Thomas Stuart was a lord,
A lord of mickle land;
He used to wear a coat of gold,
But now his grave is green.
Now he has wooed the young countess,5
The Countess of Balquhin,
An' given her for a morning gift,
Strathboggie and Aboyne.
But women's wit is aye willful,
Alas! that ever it was sae;10
She longed to see the morning gift
That her gude lord to her gae.
When steeds were saddled an' weel bridled,
An' ready for to ride,
There came a pain on that gude lord,15
His back, likewise his side.
He said, "Ride on, my lady fair,
May goodness be your guide;
For I'm sae sick an' weary that
Now ben did come his father dear,
Wearing a golden band;
Says, "Is there nae leech in Edinburgh,
Can cure my son from wrang?"
"O leech is come, an' leech is gane,25
Yet, father, I'm aye waur;
There's not a leech in Edinbro'
Can death from me debar.
"But be a friend to my wife, father,
Restore to her her own;30
Restore to her my morning gift,
Strathboggie and Aboyne.
"It had been gude for my wife, father,
To me she'd born a son;
He would have got my land an' rents,35
Where they lie out an' in.