The button, I would say these four are the recordings of Tam Lin from source singers available, two on CD and two on cassette:
Betsy Johnson; Willie Whyte; Duncan Williamson; Eddie Butcher. If you are interested in the two that were on cassette, possibly not available at the moment, PM me, I've put them on CD and I'd send them to you. R


Tam Lin
Betsy Johnston, on The Muckle Sangs, Classic Scots Ballads, School of Scottish Studies, University of Edinburgh, Greentrax recordings, CDTRAX 9005

Lady Margaret, Lady Margaret
Been sewing at a seam
She lookèd East, she lookèd West
And she saw those merry green woods growing green
She saw those merry green woods

For she kiltit up her petticoats
It's up to them she ran
And when she came to those merry green woods
She pulled those branches down, my dear
She pulled those branches down

For it's there she spied a gentleman
Coming through the wood by her side:
Oh, it's who gave you, oh, leave, my dear
To pull those branches down, my dear
It's who gave you, oh, leave?

For it's onst I could pull those trees, those trees
It's onst I could pull those trees
It's onst I could pull those trees, those trees
All without the leave of you, my dear
All without the leave of you

For he catched her by the middle small
He gently laid her down -
It's since you've got your will of me
Come tell to me your name, kind sir
Come tell to me your name

For tomorrow it is new Halloween
And the quality's goin to ride
You'll pass them by at the old millbridge
As they go ridin by, my dear
As they go ridin by

For the first will be is a white milk-steed
And it's then there'll be a black
You hold his head, you'll fear no ill
He's the father of your child, my dear
He's the father of your child

For the next will be
Is into a snake so large
You hold his head, you'll fear no ill
He's the father of your child, my dear
He's the father of your child

For the next will be
Is into a naked man
You'll throw your mantle all around
And cry – You're won, my dear, you're won
You're the father of my child

***

Tam Lin
Willie Whyte, on The Muckle Sangs, Classic Scots Ballads, School of Scottish Studies: University of Edinburgh, Greentrax CDTRAX 9005, 1992 (first issued 1975)

Oh for the sea may run dry, and fishes fly
And the rocks melt wi' the sun
And if ever I prove false unto you
It's my heart's blood it may run, ma dear
Is It's my heart's blood it may run

When I am on the sea, oh pray think of me
When I'm far on a foreign shore
For it's hold me fast, forget me not
I'm the father of your child, ma dear
I'm the father of your child

For the very first thing that you may turn me into
May it be a lion so fierce         
But hold me fast and fear me not
I'm one of God's own make, ma dear
I am one of God's own make

***

Lady Margaret
Duncan Williamson, Put another log in the fire, Songs and tunes from a Scots Traveller, Veteran Tapes VT128 (cassette)

O Lady Margaret she sat in her high chamber
She was sewing her silken seams
For she luikit east and she luikit west
And she saw those woods grow green, grow green
She saw those woods grow green

So picking up her petticoats
Beneath a harlin gown
And when she came to this merry green wood
There she laid them down, down
There she laid them down

For she had not pulled one nut, one nut
One nut nor scarcely three
When the highest lord in all the countryside
Came a-riding through the trees, the trees
Came a-riding through the trees

How dare you pull those nuts, those nuts
How dare you bend my trees
How dare you come to my merry green wood
Without the leave of me?

But Sir, once on time those woods were mine
Without the leave of yours
And I can pull thjose nuts, those nuts
And I can bend those trees, those trees
I can bend those trees

So he took her gently by the hand
And he gently laid her down
And when he had his will of her
He rose her up again

She said - Now you've had your will of me
Come tell to me your name
And if a baby I should have
I will call it the same

He said - I'm an earl's son from Carlyle
And I own all those woods so green
But I was taken when I was small
By an evil fairy queen

But tomorrow night is Hallo'een
And all those nobles you could see
If you will to come to the five mile gate
There you could set me free, O free
There you could set me free

O first they will come some dark, some dark
Then they will come some brown
But when there comes a milkwhite steed
You may pull the rider down, down
You may pull its rider down

O first I'll turn to a wicked snake
And then to a lion so wild
But hold me fast and fear me not
I may be the father of your child

Then I'll turn to a naked man
O an angry man I'll be
Just throw your mantle over me
And then you shall have me free, O free
then you shall have me free

So that night at the midnight hour
Lady Margaret made her way
And when she came to the five mile gate
She waited patiently, O ly
She waited patiently

O first there came some dark, some dark
Then there came some brown
But when there came a milkwhite steed
She pulled the rider down, down
She pulled the rider down

O first he turned to a wicked snake
And then to a lion so wild
She held him fast for she feared him not
He may be the father of her child

Then he turned to a naked man
O an angry man was he
But she threw her mantle over him
Then she had him free, O free
Then she had him free

Then cried a voice of the fairy queen
O an angry queen was she
Saying - If I had have known yesterday what I know today
I'd took out your very heart's blood
And put in a heart of clay, of clay
And put in a heart of clay

So Lady Margaret on the white milk steed
Lord William on his dappled grey
With a bugle and horn hangin down by the side
It's merrily they rode away, away
It's merrily they rode away

***

Saturday Night Is Hallowe'en Night
Eddie Butcher, co. Derry, on Early Ballads in Ireland 1968-1985, edited by Hugh Shields & Tom Munnelly, European Ethnic Oral Traditions, cassette; recording made in 1975

This man lost his wife. And he went to the fairies to see how, what he would dae or how he would get her back again. And they told him:

Saturday Night is Hallowe'en night
The quality's all to ride
And he who has his bride to meet
At the Five-Mile Brig he'll bide

First you'll meet the black
And second you'll meet the brown
And catch thew bay by the bridle rein
And pull the rider down

And he pulled down his ain wife. The fairies, you know, knows a lot.