"O waes me," said the royal king,
"I'm sorry for the same;
She maun take bread and wine sae red,15
Give it to Sir Colvin."
Then gently did she bear the bread,
Her page did carry the wine,
And set a table at his bed;—
"Sir Colvin, rise and dine."20
"O well love I the wine, lady,
Come frae your lovely hand;
But better love I your fair body,
Than all fair Scotland's strand."
"O hold your tongue now, Sir Colvin,25
Let all your folly be;
My love must be by honour won,
Or nane shall enjoy me.
"But on the head o' Elrick's hill,
Near by yon sharp hawthorn,30
Where never a man with life e'er came,
Sin our sweet Christ was born;—
"O ye'll gang there and walk a' night,
And boldly blaw your horn;
With honour that ye do return,35
Ye'll marry me the morn."
Then up it raise him, Sir Colvin,
And dress'd in armour keen;
And he is on to Elrick's hill,
Without light of the meen.40
At midnight mark the meen upstarts;
The knight walk'd up and down;
While loudest cracks o' thunder roar'd,
Out ower the bent sae brown.