Makyne went hame withouttin faill,
Full werry eftir cowth weip:
Than Robene in a ful fair daill75
Assemblit all his scheip.
Be that sum parte of Makyne's ail
Out throw his hairt cowd creip;
He followit hir fast thair till assail,
And till her tuke gude keep.80
"Abyd, abyd, thou fair Makyne,
A word for ony thing;
For all my luve it sall be thyne,
Withouttin departing.
All haill! thy harte for till haif myne,85
Is all my cuvating;
My scheip to morn, quhill houris nyne,
Will neid of no keping."
"Robene, thou hes hard soung and say,
In gestis and storeis auld,90
The man that will not quhen he may,
Sall haif nocht quhen he wald.
I pray to Jesu every day,
Mot eik thair cairis cauld,
That first preissis with thé to play,95
Be firth, forrest, or fawld."
"Makyne, the nicht is soft and dry,
The wedder is warme and fair,
And the grene woud rycht neir us by
To walk attour all quhair:100
Thair ma na janglour us espy,
That is to lufe contrair;
Thairin, Makyne, bath ye and I,
Unsene we ma repair."
"Robene, that warld is all away,105
And quyt brocht till ane end,
And nevir again thereto, perfay,
Sall it be as thou wend;
For of my pane thou maide it play,
And all in vane I spend:110
As thou hes done, sa sall I say,
Murne on, I think to mend."
"Makyne, the howp of all my heill,
My hairt on thé is sett,
And evir mair to thé be leill,115
Quhile I may leif but lett;
Nevir to faill, as utheris faill,
Quhat grace that evir I gett."
"Robene, with thé I will not deill;
Adew, for thus we mett."120
Makyne went hame blyth anewche,
Attoure the holtis hair;
Robene murnit, and Makyne lewche;
Scho sang, he sichit sair:
And so left him, bayth wo and wreuch,125
In dolour and in cair,
Kepand his hird under a huche,
Amang the holtis hair.