In, in, out and in,
Blaws the wind and whirls the whin.
He's set his hand to her bridle-rein,
He's turned her horse away:
And the cry was sair, and the wrath was mair,
And fast and fain rode they.
In, in, out and in,
Blaws the wind and whirls the whin.
But when they came by Chollerford,
I wot the ways were fell;