It fell upon anither day,
This forester thought lang;
And he is to the hunting gane
The forest leaves amang.
Wi' bow and arrow by his side,
He took his path alane;
And left his seven young children
To bide wi' their mither at hame.
"O I wad ask ye something, mither,
An ye wadna angry be."
"Ask on, ask on, my eldest son;
Ask ony thing at me."
"Your cheeks are aft-times weet, mither;
You're greetin', as I can see."
"Nae wonder, nae wonder, my little son,
Nae wonder though I should dee!
"For I was ance an Earl's daughter,
Of noble birth and fame;
And now I'm the mither o' seven sons
Wha ne'er gat christendame."
He's ta'en his mither by the hand,
His six brithers also,
And they are on through Elmond-wood
As fast as they could go.
They wistna weel wha they were gaen,
And weary were their feet;
They wistna weel wha they were gaen,
Till they stopped at her father's gate.
"I hae nae money in my pocket,
But jewel-rings I hae three;
I'll gie them to you, my little son,
And ye'll enter there for me.
"Ye'll gie the first to the proud porter,
And he will lat you in;
Ye'll gie the next to the butler-boy,
And he will show you ben.
"Ye'll gie the third to the minstrel
That's harping in the ha',
And he'll play gude luck to the bonny boy
That comes frae the greenwood shaw."