And a’ taegither we will flie.
I’ll meete thee when the nyghte be com,
So ryde again soone bye.
She’s met hym when the nyghte was com,
And a’ taegither they hae fled,
Now gin the Shyreff com, most sure
They maun baith be dead.
The hae na gane a league, a league,
A league nor barely ane,
When Robyn saith now by my bloode