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Title: Glenlogie
Author: Frank Sidgwick [
More Titles by Sidgwick]
The Text is from Sharpe's Ballad Book (1823). It is an extremely popular ballad in Scotland.
The Story.--Lady Jean Melville (in other versions Jean of Bethelnie, in Aberdeenshire), scarce sixteen years old, falls in love at first sight with Glenlogie, and tells him her mind. But he is already engaged, and Lady Jean takes to her care-bed. Her father offers the consolation, usual in such cases, of another and a richer husband. Jean, however, prefers the love of Glenlogie to the euphony of Drumfendrich, and gets her father's chaplain to write a letter to Glenlogie, which is so well indited that it moves him to tears, and all ends happily.
GLENLOGIE
1.
Four and twenty nobles sits in the king's ha',
Bonnie Glenlogie is the flower among them a'.
2.
In came Lady Jean, skipping on the floor,
And she has chosen Glenlogie 'mong a' that was there.
3.
She turned to his footman, and thus she did say:
'Oh, what is his name? and where does he stay?'
4.
'His name is Glenlogie, when he is from home;
He is of the gay Gordons, his name it is John.'
5.
'Glenlogie, Glenlogie, an you will prove kind,
My love is laid on you; I am telling my mind.'
6.
He turned about lightly, as the Gordons does a':
'I thank you, Lady Jean, my loves is promised awa'.'
7.
She called on her maidens her bed for to make,
Her rings and her jewels all from her to take.
8.
In came Jeanie's father, a wae man was he;
Says, 'I'll wed you to Drumfendrich, he has mair gold than he.'
9.
Her father's own chaplain, being a man of great skill,
He wrote him a letter, and indited it well.
10.
The first lines he looked at, a light laugh laughed he;
But ere he read through it the tears blinded his e'e.
11.
Oh, pale and wan looked she when Glenlogie cam in.
But even rosy grew she when Glenlogie sat down.
12.
'Turn round, Jeanie Melville, turn round to this side,
And I'll be the bridegroom, and you'll be the bride.'
13.
Oh, 'twas a merry wedding, and the portion down told,
Of bonnie Jeanie Melville, who was scarce sixteen years old.
[The end]
Frank Sidgwick's poem: Glenlogie
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