“O gin ye ha a brither on earth
That ye love better nor me,
Ye blaw the horn yoursel,” he says,
“For ae blast I winna gie.”
She’s set the horn till her mouth,
And she’s blawn three blasts sae shrill;
Sweet Willy heard i the kingis court,
And came her quickly till.
Then up it started Brown Robin,
An an angry man was he:
“There comes nae man this bowr within
But first must fight wi me.”
O they hae fought that bowr within
Till the sun was gaing down,
Till drops o blude frae Rose the Red
Cam trailing to the groun.
She leand her back against the wa,
Says, “Robin, let a’ be;
For it is a lady born and bred
That’s foughten sae well wi thee.”
O seven foot he lap a back;
Says, “Alas, and wae is me!
I never wisht in a’ my life,
A woman’s blude to see;
An ae for the sake of ae fair maid
Whose name was White Lilly.”
Then out it spake her White Lilly,
An a hearty laugh laugh she:
“She’s lived wi you this year an mair,
Tho ye kenntna it was she.”
Now word has gane thro a’ the lan,
Before a month was done,
That Brown Robin’s man, in good green wood,
Had born a bonny young son.
The word has gane to the kingis court,
An to the king himsel;
“Now, by my fay,” the king could say,
“The like was never heard tell!”
Then out it spake him Bold Arthur,
An a hearty laugh laugh he:
“I trow some may has playd the loun,
And fled her ain country.”