2: Lord Donald
Versions from the Singing Tradition
1: Rundle My Son
As sung by John Stewart, Peat Inn, Fife
2: Lord Donald
As sung by Archie Webster, Strathkiness, Fife
3: Rundle My Son
As sung by Mary Reid, Peat Inn, Fife
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As sung by Archie Webster at his house in Strathkinness, Fife in 1969 (69.2.16) and at an informal ceilidh in the bar at Peat Inn 13 Sept 1971 (71.3.71). Archie was brought up on the farms of North East Fife working as a horseman from the age of around 14 through to the 1950s when he was one of the last horse ploughman on the farm of Denbrae near Strathkiness. He had many songs and ballads learned within his family and in the farm bothies.
'Oh where hae ye been
Lord Donald my son?
Where hae ye been
My handsome young man?'
'I have been to the wildwood,
Mother make my bed soon;
For I'm wearied wi huntin,
An' fain would lie doun.'
'Oh have you had supper
Lord Donald my son?
Oh have you had supper
My handsome young man?'
'Oh yes I've had supper,
Mither, make my bed soon,
For I'm wearied wi huntin
And I fain wid lie doun.'
'Oh what had you for supper,
Lord Donald my son;
What had you for supper,
My handsome young man?'
'I had eels boiled in broo,
Mither, make my bed soon;
For I'm wearied wi huntin,
An' fain would lie doun.'
'Then I fear ye are poisoned,
Lord Donald my son;
Then I fear ye are poisoned
My handsome young man?'
'Oh yes I am poisoned,
Mither, make my bed soon;
For I'm wearied wi huntin,
An' fain would lie doun.'
'What will you leave to your father
Lord Donald my son?
'What will you leave to your father
My handsome young man?'
'My land and my horses,
Mither, make my bed soon,
For I'm wearied wi huntin,
An' fain would lie doun.'
'What will you leave to your mother
Lord Donald my son?
'What will you leave to your mother
My handsome young man?'
'My gold and my silver,
Mither, make my bed soon;
For I'm wearied wi huntin,
An' fain would lie doun.'
'What will you leave to your sweethert
Lord Donald my son?
'What will you leave to your sweethert
My handsome young man?'
'The tow and the halter
That hangs on yon tree,
That's what she'll get
For the poisonin o me.'
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