Then he's drawn out a trusty brand,
And stroak'd it o'er a stray;
And thro' and thro' sweet Willie's middle
He's gart cauld iron gae, my dear,
He's gart cauld iron gae.95
Then up it waken'd Lady Maisry,
Out o' her drowsy sleep;
And when she saw her true love slain,
She straight began to weep, my dear,
She straight began to weep.100
"O gude forgie you now, father," she said,
"I wish ye be't for sin;
For I never lov'd a love but ane,
In my arms ye've him slain, my dear,
In my arms ye've him slain."105
"This night he's slain my gude bold watch,
Thirty stout men and twa;
Likewise he's slain your ae brother,
To me was worth them a', my dear,
To me was worth them a'."110
"If he has slain my ae brither,
Himsell had a' the blame;
For mony a day he plots contriv'd,
To hae sweet Willie slain, my dear,
"And tho' he's slain your gude bold watch,
He might hae been forgien;
They came on him in armour bright,
When he was but alane, my dear,
When he was but alane."120
Nae meen was made for this young knight,
In bower where he lay slain;
But a' was for sweet Maisry bright,
In fields where she ran brain, my dear,
In fields where she ran brain.125