Glen Collection of printed music > Printed text > Scottish ballads

311
Sayes, " Welcome, welcome, Lord of Linne ;
Let nocht disturb thy heavy cheere ;
If thou wilt sell thy lands soe broad,
Good store of gold I'll give thee here."
« My gold is gone ; my money is spent ;
My lande now take it unto thee ;
Give me the gold, good John o' Scales,
And thine for aye my lande shall bee."
Then John he did him to record draw,
And John he gave him a god's-pennie ;
But, for every pound that John agreed,
The lande, I wis, was weel worth three.
He told him the gold upon the board ;
He was richte glad the lande to winne :
" The lande is mine, the gold is thine.
And now I'll be the Lord of Linne."
Thus he hath sold his land so broad ;
Both hill and holt, and moore and fenne,
All but a poore and lonesome lodge.
That stood far off in a lonely glenne.
For soe he to his father bight :
" My Sonne, when I am gone," said he,
" Then thou wilt spend thy land so broad,
And thou wilt spend thy gold so free :
But sweare me now upon the roode.
That lonesome lodge thoul't never spend ;
For when all the world doth frowne on thee,
Thou there shalt find a faithful friend."
The heire of Linne is full of gold :
And, " Come with me, my friends," said he ;