5
He pouit aff his holland sark,
And rave it frae gore to gore,
And stapt it in his bleeding wounds,
But ay they bled the more.
6
'O brither, tak me on your back,
And bear me hence away,
And carry me to Chester kirk,
And lay me in the clay.'
7
'What will I say to your father,
This night when I return?'
'Tell him I'm gane to Chester scule,
And tell him no to murn.'
8
'What will I say to your mother,
This nicht whan I gae hame?'
'She wishd afore I cam awa
That I might neer gae hame.'
9
'What will I say to your true-love,
This nicht when I gae hame?'
'Tell her I'm dead and in my grave,
For her dear sake alane.'
10
He took him upon his back
And bore him hence away,
And carried him to Chester kirk,
And laid him in the clay.
11
He laid him in the cauld cauld clay,
And he cuirt him wi a stane,
And he's awa to his fathers ha,
Sae dowilie alane.
12
'You're welcome, dear son,' he said,
'You're welcome hame to me;
But what's come o your brither John,
That gade awa wi thee?'
13
'Oh he's awa to Chester scule,
A scholar he'll return;
He bade me tell his father dear
About him no to murn.'
14
'You're welcome hame, dear son,' she said,
'You're welcome hame to me;
But what's come o your brither John,
That gade awa wi thee?'