When the gos-hawk flew to that castle,
He lighted on the ash;
And there he sat and sang their loves
As she came frae the mass.
“Stay where ye be, my maidens a’,
And sip red wine anon,
Till I go to my west window
And hear a birdie’s moan.”
She’s gane unto her west window,
The bolt she fainly drew;
And unto that lady’s white, white neck
The bird a letter threw.
“Ye’re bidden to send your love a send,
For he has sent you twa;
And tell him where he may see you soon,
Or he cannot live ava.”
“I send him the ring from my finger,
The garland off my hair,
I send him the heart that’s in my breast;
What would my love have mair?
And at the fourth kirk in fair Scotland,
Ye’ll bid him wait for me there.”
She hied her to her father dear
As fast as gang could she:
“I’m sick at the heart, my father dear;
An asking grant you me!”
“Ask ye na for that Scottish lord,
For him ye’ll never see!”
“An asking, an asking, dear father!” she says,
“An asking grant you me;
That if I die in fair England,
In Scotland ye’ll bury me.
“At the first kirk o’ fair Scotland,
Ye cause the bells be rung;
At the second kirk o’ fair Scotland,
Ye cause the mass be sung;
“At the third kirk o’ fair Scotland,
Ye deal gold for my sake;
At the fourth kirk o’ fair Scotland,
O there ye’ll bury me at!