{"collection":"Northern European Mythology","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/browse/neu/eng/child/ch092.htm","path":"neu/eng/child/ch092.htm","source_url":"https://sacred-texts.com/neu/eng/child/ch092.htm","text":"92A.1 BY Arthur\u2019s Dale as late I went\nI heard a heavy moan;\nI heard a ladie lammenting sair,\nAnd ay she cried Ohone!\n92A.2 \u2018Ohon, alas! what shall I do,\nTormented night and day!\nI never loved a love but ane,\nAnd now he\u2019s gone away.\n92A.3 \u2018But I will do for my true-love\nWhat ladies woud think sair;\nFor seven year shall come and go\nEre a kaim gang in my hair.\n92A.4 \u2018There shall neither a shoe gang on my foot,\nNor a kaim gang in my hair,\nNor eer a coal nor candle-light\nShine in my bower nae mair.\u2019\n92A.5 She thought her love had been on the sea,\nFast sailling to Bee Hom;\nBut he was in a quiet chamer,\nHearing his ladie\u2019s moan.\n92A.6 \u2018Be husht, be husht, my ladie dear,\nI pray thee mourn not so;\nFor I am deep sworn on a book\nTo Bee Hom for to go.\u2019\n92A.7 She has gien him a chain of the beaten gowd,\nAnd a ring with a ruby stone:\n\u2018As lang as this chain your body binds,\nYour blude can never be drawn.\n92A.8 \u2018But gin this ring shoud fade or fail,\nOr the stone shoud change its hue,\nBe sure your love is dead and gone,\nOr she has proved untrue.\u2019\n92A.9 He had no been at Bonny Bee Hom\nA twelve month and a day,\nTill, looking on his gay gowd ring,\nThe stone grew dark and gray.\n92A.10 \u2018O ye take my riches to Bee Hom,\nAnd deal them presentlie,\nTo the young that canna, the auld that maunna,\nAnd the blind that does not see.\u2019\n92A.11 Now death has come into his bower,\nAnd split his heart in twain;\nSo their twa souls flew up to heaven,\nAnd there shall ever remain.\n92B: Bonny Bee Hom\n92B.1 IN Lauderdale I chanc\u2019d to walk,\nAnd heard a lady\u2019s moan,\nLamenting for her dearest dear,\nAnd aye she cried, Ohon!\n92B.2 \u2018Sure never a maid that eer drew breath\nHad harder fate than me;\nI\u2019d never a lad but one on earth,\nThey forc\u2019d him to the sea.\n92B.3 \u2018The ale shall neer be brewin o malt,\nNeither by sea nor land,\nThat ever mair shall cross my hause,\nTill my love comes to hand.\n92B.4 \u2018A handsome lad, wi shoulders broad,\nGold yellow was his hair;\nNone of our Scottish youths on earth\nThat with him could compare.\u2019\n92B.5 She thought her love was gone to sea,\nAnd landed in Bahome;\nBut he was in a quiet chamber,\nHearing his lady\u2019s moan.\n92B.6 \u2018Why make ye all this moan, lady?\nWhy make ye all this moan?\nFor I\u2019m deep sworn on a book,\nI must go to Bahome.\n92B.7 \u2018Traitors false for to subdue\nOer seas I\u2019ll make me boun,\nThat have trepand our kind Scotchmen,\nLike dogs to ding them down.\u2019\n92B.8 \u2018Weell, take this ring, this royal thing,\nWhose virtue is unknown;\nAs lang\u2019s this ring\u2019s your body on,\nYour blood shall neer be drawn.\n92B.9 \u2018But if this ring shall fade or stain,\nOr change to other hue,\nCome never mair to fair Scotland,\nIf ye\u2019re a lover true.\u2019\n92B.10 Then this couple they did part,\nWith a sad heavy moan;\nThe wind was fair, the ship was rare,\nThey landed in Bahome.\n92B.11 But in that place they had not been\nA month but barely one,\nTill he lookd on his gay gold ring,\nAnd riven was the stone.\n92B.12 Time after this was not expir\u2019d\nA month but scarcely three,\nTill black and ugly was the ring,\nAnd the stone was burst in three.\n92B.13 \u2018Fight on, fight on, you merry men all,\nWith you I\u2019ll fight no more;\nI will gang to some holy place,\nPray to the King of Glore.\u2019\n92B.14 Then to the chapel he is gone,\nAnd knelt most piteouslie,\nFor seven days and seven nights,\nTill blood ran frae his knee.\n92B.15 \u2018Ye\u2019ll take my jewels that\u2019s in Bahome,\nAnd deal them liberallie,\nTo young that cannot, and old that mannot,\nThe blind that does not see.\n92B.16 \u2018Give maist to women in child-bed laid,\nCan neither fecht nor flee;\nI hope she\u2019s in the heavens high,\nThat died for love of me.\u2019\n92B.17 The knights they wrang their white fingers,\nThe ladies tore their hair;\nThe women that neer had children born,\nIn swoon they down fell there.\n92B.18 But in what way the knight expir\u2019d,\nNo tongue will eer declare;\nSo this doth end my mournful song,\nFrom me ye\u2019ll get nae mair.","title":"The Child Ballads: 92. Bonny Bee Hom","type":"page"}