Her sisters they went to a room,
To make to her a sark;
The cloth of it was satin fine,85
And the steeking silken wark.
"But well is me, my jolly goshawk,
That ye can speak and flee;
Come shew to me any love tokens
That you have brought to me."90
"She sends you the rings from her fingers,
The garlands from her hair;
She sends you the heart within her breast:
And what would you have mair?
And at the fourth kirk of fair Scotland,95
She bids you meet her there."
"Come hither, all my merry young men,
And drink the good red wine;
For we must on to fair England,
To free my love from pine."100
At the first kirk of fair Scotland,
They gart the bells be rung;
At the second kirk of fair Scotland,
They gart the mass be sung.
At the third kirk of fair Scotland,105
They dealt gold for her sake;
And the fourth kirk of fair Scotland
Her true love met them at.
"Set down, set down the corpse," he said,
"Till I look on the dead;110
The last time that I saw her face,
She ruddy was and red;
But now, alas, and woe is me!
She's wallowed like a weed."
He rent the sheet upon her face,115
A little aboon her chin;
With lily white cheek, and lemin' eyne,
She lookt and laugh'd to him.
"Give me a chive of your bread, my love,
A bottle of your wine;120
For I have fasted for your love,
These weary lang days nine;
There's not a steed in your stable,
But would have been dead ere syne.