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THE BROOMFIELD HILL
i O where were ye, my milk-white steed,
That I hae coft sae dear, That wadna watch and waken me
When there was maiden here ?'—
41 stamped wi' my foot, master,
And gar'd my bridle ring, But no kin' thing wald waken ye
Till she was past and gane.'—
' And wae betide ye, my gay goss-hawk,
That I hae coft sae dear, That wadna watch an' waken me
When my true-love was here.'—
' I clapped wi' my wings, master,
And aye my bells I rang, And aye cried, Waken, ivaken, master.
Before the ladye gang !'—
' But haste, but haste, my gude white steed3
To come the maiden till, Or a' the birds of the gude greenwood
O' your flesh shall have their fill I'—
' Ye needna burst your gude white steed
Wi' racing o'er the howm ; Nae bird flies faster thro' the wood
Than she fled thro' the broom.'
coft] bought. howm] holm, river-mead.