But sound, sound, was the sleep he took,
For he slept till it was noon;
And his lady cam at day, left a taiken and away,
20 Gaed as licht as a glint o' the moon.
She strawed the roses on the ground,
Threw her mantle on the brier,
And the belt around her middle sae jimp,
As a taiken that she'd been there.
25 The rustling leaves flew round his head,
And rous'd him frae his dream;
He saw by the roses, and mantle sae green,
That his love had been there and was gane.
"O whare was ye, my gude grey steed,
30 That I coft ye sae dear;
That ye didna waken your master,
Whan ye ken'd that his love was here."—
"I pautit wi' my foot, master,
Garr'd a' my bridles ring;
35 And still I cried, Waken, gude master,
For now is the hour and time."—
"Then whare was ye, my bonnie grey hound,
That I coft ye sae dear,
That ye didna waken your master,
40 Whan ye kend that his love was here."—
"I pautit wi' my foot, master,
Garr'd a' my bells to ring;
And still I cried, Waken, gude master,
For now is the hour and time."—
45 "But whare was ye, my hawks, my hawks,
That I coft ye sae dear,
That ye didna waken your master,
Whan ye ken'd that his love was here."—