"O gin I loe a lady fair,
Nae ill tales o her wad I tell,
And it's wi thee I fain wad gae,
Tho it were een to heavn or hell."
"Then harp and carp, Thomas," she said,
"Then harp and carp alang wi me;
But it will be seven years and a day
Till ye win back to yere ain countrie."
The lady rade, True Thomas ran,
Until they cam to a water wan;
O it was night, and nae delight,
And Thomas wade aboon the knee.
It was dark night, and nae starn-light,
And on they waded lang days three,
And they heard the roaring o a flood,
And Thomas a waefou man was he.
Then they rade on, and farther on,
Untill they came to a garden green;
To pu an apple he put up his hand,
For the lack o food he was like to tyne.
"O haud yere hand, Thomas," she cried,
"And let that green flourishing be;
For it's the very fruit o hell,
Beguiles baith man and woman o yere countrie.
"But look afore ye, True Thomas,
And I shall show ye ferlies three;
Yon is the gate leads to our land,
Where thou and I sae soon shall be.
"And dinna ye see yon road, Thomas,
That lies out-owr yon lilly lee?
Weel is the man yon gate may gang,
For it leads him straight to the heavens hie.
"But do you see yon road, Thomas,
That lies out-owr yon frosty fell?
Ill is the man yon gate may gang,
For it leads him straight to the pit o hell.
"Now when ye come to our court, Thomas,
See that a weel-learned man ye be;
For they will ask ye, one and all,
But ye maun answer nane but me.