11
'O no, O no, my brother dear,
O you must not say so;
But say that I'm gane to a foreign land,
Whare nae man does me know.'
12
When he sat in his father's chair,
He grew baith pale and wan:
'O what blude's that upon your brow?
O dear son, tell to me;'
'It is the blude o my gude gray steed,
He wadna ride wi me.'
13
'O thy steed's blude was neer sae red,
Nor eer sae dear to me:
O what blude's this upon your cheek?
O dear son, tell to me;'
'It is the blude of my greyhound,
He wadna hunt for me.'
14
'O thy hound's blude was neer sae red,
Nor eer sae dear to me:
O what blude's this upon your hand?
O dear son, tell to me;'
'It is the blude of my gay goss-hawk,
He wadna flee for me.'
15
'O thy hawk's blude was neer sae red,
Nor eer sae dear to me:
O what blude's this upon your dirk?
Dear Willie, tell to me;'
'It is the blude of my ae brother,
O dule and wae is me!'
16
'O what will ye say to your father?
Dear Willie, tell to me;'
'I'll saddle my steed, and awa I'll ride,
To dwell in some far countrie.'
17
'O when will ye come hame again?
Dear Willie, tell to me;'
'When sun and mune leap on yon hill,
And that will never be.'
18
She turnd hersel right round about,
And her heart burst into three:
'My ae best son is deid and gane,
And my tother ane I'll neer see.'
F.
Buchan's MSS, I, 57; Motherwell's MS., p. 662.