This is a representative text of the Gairdner Child.
Difficulties with the Scots dialect are eliminated in this re-written version. It uses modernized language, and drops confusing bits, including the term “child”, which here refers to a young man.
I’ve used the ballad as the focal point for a seasonal meditation, extrapolating into what Smithson called the “dialectical landscape” of Central Park.
The song itself is deeper than that.
An interesting “new feminist” treatment can be found at this site, (see the Taunter essay and the Ballad Appendix,) which goes beyond my present concerns. I will point out that I chose to ignore the lady’s father, as a sort of patriarchal overlay not essential to the conflict. He is not an active character, or even mentioned in some versions of the song. He represents a social structure that might explain the narrative - the dutiful daughter must refuse the unsuitable suitor, whose earthy solicitation avoids the proper paternal channel, indicating illicit desire - but the lady’s rejection seems to me of a more fundamental nature. Her argument is based in the poetry of her heart, not etiquette. And maidens in old ballads do not often behave as their parents would wish. The context of the father’s yard places the encounter on the edge of virginity, but the courtship dialectic, I think, extends to all our relationships, and is properly called a Mystery.


The Gairdner Child

Proud Maisrie stands at her faither's door
As straight's a willow wand
Till by there came a gairdner child
And a red rose in his hand, his hand,
A red rose in his hand

"It's you will hae my rose, fair maid,
Gin ye'll gie yer floo'r tae me
And amang the floo'rs o' yer faither's yard
I'll make a goon for thee, for thee
I'll make a goon for thee

"The lily white will be yer smock
And lie yer body neist
The marigold will be yer stays
And a red rose at yer briest, yer breist,
A red rose at yer briest

"Yer goon shall be o' the smellin' thyme
And yer petticoat camowine
And yer apron o the soladine
Jine yer love wi' mine, wi' mine,
Come jine yer love wi' mine

"Yer shoon will be o' yon red rue
That grows in the garden fine
And I'll them wi' the tapitan
Oh kiss, sweetheart and jine, and jine
Oh kiss, sweetheart and jine"

"Since you hae made a goon for me
Amang the simmer floo'rs
I will mak' a suit for thee
Amang the winter shoo'rs, the shoo'rs
Amang the winter shoo'rs

"The milk-white snaw will be yer sark
And lie yer body neist
The mirk black rain will be yer coat
A wind gale at yer briest, yer briest
A wind gale at yer briest

"The horse that ye shall ride upon
Will be the winter snell
And I'll bridle him wi' some norland blasts
And some sharp shoo'rs o'hail, o' hail
And some sharp shoo'rs o' hail

"The bonnet's that be upon yer heid
Will be the southron grey
And every time that ye pass by
I'll wish ye were away, away
I'll wish ye were away