"O wyte na me, now, my master dear,
50 I garr'd a' my young hawks sing,
And still I cried, Waken, gude master,
For now is the hour and time."—
"Then be it sae, my wager gane!
'T will skaith frae meikle ill;
55 For gif I had found her in bonnie broom-fields,
O' her heart's blude ye'd drunken your fill."
The stanzas below are from an American version of this ballad called The Green Broomfield, printed in a cheap song-book. (Graham's Illustrated Magazine, Sept. 1858.)
"Then when she went to the green broom field,
Where her love was fast asleep,
With a gray goose-hawk and a green laurel bough,
And a green broom under his feet.
"And when he awoke from out his sleep,
An angry man was he;
He looked to the East, and he looked to the West,
And he wept for his sweetheart to see.
"Oh! where was you, my gray goose-hawk,
The hawk that I loved so dear,
That you did not awake me from out my sleep,
When my sweetheart was so near!"