474 Rattling, Roaring Willie. By the late Sir W. Elliot. 



The longer compositions, which I consider ballads, are those 

 given by Sir Walter Scott, in the Lay above alluded to, 1 and by 

 Allan Cunningham in his own collection, 2 and quoted by Professor 

 Veitch 3 which for the sake of comparison are printed side by side 

 below. 



Sir Walter Scott, 1805. 



" Now Willie's gane to Jeddart, 



And he's for the rude-day ; 

 But Stobs and young Falnash, 



They followed him a' the way ; 

 They followed him a' the way, 



They sought him up and down, 

 In the links of Ousenam water, 



They fand him sleeping sound. 



Allan Cunningham, 1825. 

 Bob Bool and Battling Willie. 

 " Our Willie's away to Jeddart, 



To dance on the rood-day, 

 A sharp sword by his side, 



A fiddle to cheer the way. 

 The joy oils tharms o' his fiddle 



Rob Rool had handled rude, 

 And Willie left New Mill banks 



Red-wat wi' Robin's blude. 



" Stobs lighted aft' his horse, 



And never a word he spak, 

 Till he tied Willie's hands 



Fu' fast behind his back ; 

 Fu' fast behind his back, 



And down beneath his knee, 

 And drink will be dear to Willie, 



When sweet milk gars him die. 



' Our Willie's away to Jeddart — 



May ne'er the saints forbode, 

 That ever sae merry a fellow 



Should gang sae black a road ! 

 For Stobs and yonng Falnash, 



They followed him up and down- 

 In t'he links of Onsenam water 



They found him sleeping soun 1 J 



" Ah, wae light on ye, Stobs ! 



An ill death mot ye die ; 

 Ye' re the first and foremost man 



That e'er laid hands on me ; 

 That e'er laid hands on me, 



And took my mare me frae ; 

 Wae to you, Sir Gilbert Elliot ! 



Ye are my mortal fae ! 



" Now may the name of Elliot 



Be cursed frae firth to firth ! 

 He has fettered the gude right hand 



That keepit the land in mirth : 

 That keepit the land in mirth, 



And charm'd maids' hearts frae dool; 

 And sair will they want him, Willie, 



When birks are bare at Yule. 



" The lasses of .Ousenam water 



Are rugging and riving their hair, 

 And a' for the sake of Willie, 



His beauty was so fair : 

 His beauty was so fair, 



And comely for to see, 

 And drink will be dear to Willie, 



When sweet milk gars him die." 



" The lasses of Ousenam water 



Are rugging and riving their hail 

 And a' for the sake of Willie — 



They'll hear his sangs nae mair. 

 Nae mair to his merrie fiddle 



Dance Teviot's maidens free : 

 My curses on their cunning 



Wha gaured Sweet Willie dee." 



1 Note xxii., Canto iv. (3rd Edition, 1800). 



2 Vol. ii., p. 336. 



3 History and "Poetry of the Scottish Border, p 



538. 



