The rings that were on her fingers,
She laid upon a stane,
To let him know, when he did wake,
His love was come and gane.
Now when she had her work all dune,
She went to a bush o’ broom,
That she might hear what he did say,
When he saw that she was gane.
“O where were ye my guid grey hound,
That I paid for sae dear,
Ye didna waken me frae my sleep
When my true love was sae near?”
“I scraped wi’ my foot, master,
Till a’ my collars rang,
But still the mair that I did scrape,
Waken woud ye nane.”
“Where were ye, my bony brown steed,
That I paid for sae dear,
That ye woudna waken me out o’ my sleep
When my love was sae near?”
“I patted wi my foot, master,
Till a’ my bridles rang,
But the mair that I did patt,
Waken woud ye nane.”
“O where were ye, my gay goss-hawk
That I paid for sae dear,
That ye woudna waken me out o’ my sleep
When ye saw my love near?”
“I flapped wi my wings, master,
Till a’ my bells they rang,
But still, the mair that I did flap,
Waken woud ye nane.”
“O where were ye, my merry young men
That I pay meat and fee,
That ye woudna waken me out o’ my sleep
When my love ye did see?”
“Ye’ll sleep mair on the night, master,
And wake mair on the day;
Gae sooner down to Broomfield Hills
When ye’ve sic pranks to play.