She has mounted on her true love’s steed,
By the ae light o’ the moon;
She has whipped him and spurred him,
And roundly she rade frae the toun.
She hadna ridden a mile o’ gate,
Never a mile but ane,
When she was aware of a tall young man,
Slow riding o’er the plain,
She turned her to the right about,
Then to the left turn’d she;
But aye, ’tween her and the wan moonlight,
That tall knight did she see.
And he was riding burd alane,
On a horse as black as jet,
But tho’ she followed him fast and fell,
No nearer could she get.
“O stop! O stop! young man,” she said;
“For I in dule am dight;
O stop, and win a fair lady’s luve,
If you be a leal true knight.”
But nothing did the tall knight say,
And nothing did he blin;
Still slowly ride he on before
And fast she rade behind.
She whipped her steed, she spurred her steed,
Till his breast was all a foam;
But nearer unto that tall young knight,
By Our Ladye she could not come.
“O if you be a gay young knight,
As well I trow you be,
Pull tight your bridle reins, and stay
Till I come up to thee.”
But nothing did that tall knight say,
And no whit did he blin,
Until he reached a broad river’s side
And there he drew his rein.
“O is this water deep?” he said,
“As it is wondrous dun?
Or is it sic as a saikless maid,
And a leal true knight may swim?”