And went upon her way.
And she has gathered the green willow
To lay on the threshold stane,
And the yew and the rue in the chalmer of state,
That the house might be kent for desolate
When she was lost and gane.
Oh! father, kindly fare ye well,
Good may your last days be,
And God send your son were hame in peace,
Since ye’ll nae joy in me.