Digital Tradition Mirror

Brown Adam

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Pennywhistle notation and Dulcimer tab for this song is also available

Brown Adam

O wha wou'd wish the win' to blaw
Or the green leaves fa' therewith;
Or wha wad wish a leeler love
Than Brown Adam the Smith!

His hammer's o' the beaten gold,
His study's o' the steel,
His fingers white are my delite,
He blows his bellows we[e]l.

But they ha' banish'd him Brown Adam
Frae father and frae mither,
An' they ha' banish'd him Brown Adam
Frae sister and frae brither;

And they ha' banish'd [him] Brown Adam
Frae the fow'r  o a' his kin;
An' he's bigger a bow'r I' the good green wood
Between his lady an' him.

O it fell once upon a day
Brown Adam he thought lang,
An' he wou'd to the green wood gang
To hunt some venison.

He's ta'en his bow his arm o'er,
His bran' intill his han',
And he is to the good green wood
As fast as he cou'd gang.

O he's shot up an' he's shot down
The bird upo' the briar,
An' he's sent it hame to his lady,
Bade her be of good cheer.

he's shot up an' he's shot down
The bird upo' the thorn,
And sent it hame to his lady,
And hee'd be hame the morn.

Whan he came till his lady's bow'r-door
He stood a little foreby,
And there he heard a fu' fa'se knight
Temptin' his gay lady.

O he's ta'en out a gay gold ring
Had cost him mony a poun':
O grant me love for love
An' this sal be your own.

I loo' Brown Adam well, she says,
I wot sae does he me,
An' I wou'd na gi' Brown Adam's love
For nae fa'se knight I see.

Out has he ta'en a purse of gold
Was a' fu' to the string:
Grant me but love for love, lady,
An' a' this sal be thine.

I loo' Brown Adam well, she says,
An' I ken sae does he me,
An' I wou'dna be your light leman
For mair nor ye cou'd gie.

Then out has he drawn his lang, lang bran'
And he's flash'd it in her e'en:
Now grant me love for love, lady,
Or thro' you this sal gang.

O sighing said that gay lady,
Brown Adam tarrys lang;
Then up it starts Brown Adam,
Says, I'm just at your han'.

He's gar'd him leave his bow, his bow,
He's gar'd him leave his bran';
He's gar'd him leave a better pledge,
Four fingers o' his right han'.

Child #98
From Kinsley, Oxford Book of Ballads
SOF
oct97

Thanks to Mudcat for the Digital Tradition!