There was nae pity for that lady,
For she lay cald and dead;110
But a' was for him, Glenkindie,
In bower he must go mad.
He'd harpit a fish out o' saut water;
The water out o' a stane;
The milk out o' a maiden's breast,115
That bairn had never nane.
He's taen his harp intill his hand;
Sae sweetly as it rang,
And wae and weary was to hear
[Glenkindie's dowie sang.]120
But cald and dead was that lady,
Nor heeds for a' his maen;
An he wad harpit till domisday,
She'll never speak again.
He's taen his harp intill his hand;125
He harpit and he sang;
And he is hame to Gib his man
As fast as he could gang.
"Come forth, come forth, now, Gib, my man,
Till I pay you your fee;130
Come forth, come forth, now, Gib, my man;
Weel payit sall ye be!"
And he has taen him, Gib, his man,
And he has hang'd him hie;
And he's hangit him o'er his ain yate,135
As high as high could be.
[5-8]. These feats are all but equalled by the musician in the Swedish and Danish Harpans Kraft.
"He harped the bark from every tree,
And he harped the young from folk and from fee.