'Childe Owlet,' Buchan's Ballads of the North of Scotland, I, 27; Motherwell's MS., p.572.

1 Lady Erskine sits in her chamber,
Sewing at her silken seam,
A chain of gold for Childe Owlet,
As he goes out and in.

2 But it fell ance upon a day,
She unto him did say;
Ye must cuckold Lord Ronald,
And me his sister's son.

3 'O cease, forbid, Madam,' he says,
'That this shou'd e'er be done!
How would I cuckold Lord Ronald,
And me his sister's son?'

4 Then she's ta'en out a little penknife,
That lay below her bed;
Put it below her green stay's cord,
Which made her body bleed.

5 Then in it came him, Lord Ronald,
Hearing his lady's moan;
'What blood is this, my dear, he says,
That sparks on the fire like stone?'

6 'Young Childe Owlet, your sister's son,
Is now gane frae my bower,
If I hadna been a good woman,
I'd been Childe Owlet's whore.'

7 Then he has taen him, Childe Owlet,
Laid him in prison strong;
And all his men a council held,
How they wou'd work him wrong.

8 Some said they wou'd Childe Owlet hang,
Some said thet wou'd him burn;
Some said they wou'd have Childe Owlet
Between wild horses torn.

9 'There are horses in your stables stand,
Can run right speedilie,
And ye will to your stable go,
And wile out four for me.'

10 They put a foal to ilka foot,
And ane to ilka hand;
And sent them down to Darling muir,
As fast as they cou'd gang.

11 There was not a kow in Darling muir,
Nor ae piece o' a rind, [i.e. a strip of ground
But drappit o' Childe Owlet's blude,
And pieces o' his skin.

12 There was not a kow in Darling muir,
Nor ae piece o' a rash, [i.e. grass or rush
But drappit o' Childe Owlet's blude,
And pieces o' his flesh.

Francis J Child was often (wrongly) critical and suspicious of Peter Buchan's texts. In this case he considered the ballad to be 'at best a late one and perhaps an imitation, but, for an imitation the last two stanzas are unusually successful.' No tunes seem to be known for this rare ballad.