“He desires you’ll come to Edinburgh,
And hauld of him this forest free;
And, gif ye refuse to do this thing,
He’ll conquer baith thy lands and thee.
He hath vowed to cast thy Castle down,
And mak’ a widow o’ thy gay Ladye;
“He’ll hang thy merrymen, pair by pair,
In ony frith where he may them find.”
“Ay, by my troth!” the Outlaw said,
“Than wauld I think me far behind.