"Robin, that warld is now away, 105
And quyt brocht till an end:
And nevir again thereto, perfay,
Sall it be as thou wend;
For of my pain thou made but play;
I words in vain did spend: 110
As thou hast done, sae sall I say,
Murn on, I think to mend."
Makyne, the hope of all my heil,[432]
My heart on thee is set;
I'll evermair to thee be leil,[433] 115
Quhyle I may live but lett,[434]
Never to fail as uthers feill,[435]
Quhat grace so eir I get.
"Robin, with thee I will not deill;
Adieu, for thus we met." 120
Makyne went hameward blyth enough,
Attowre the holtis hair;[436]
Pure Robin murnd, and Makyne leugh;[437]
Scho sang, and he sicht sair:[438]
And so left him bayth wo and wreuch,[439] 125
In dolor and in care,
Keipand his herd under a heuch,[440]
Amang the rushy gair.[441]
FOOTNOTES:
[391] [keeping a flock of sheep.]
[392] [when merry.]
[393] [unto.]
[394] [take pity.]
[395] [openly and secretly.]
[396] [these twelvemonths.]