After 27:
That sweetly wavd around his face,
That face beyond compare;
He sang sae sweet, it might dispel
A' rage but fell dispair.
The following stanzas were appended to the ballad in the edition reprinted by Percy:
'Obraid me not, my Lord Barnard,
Obraid me not for shame!
With that saim speir O pierce my heart,
And put me out o pain.
'Since nothing bot Gill Morice head
Thy jelous rage could quell,
Let that saim hand now tak hir life
That neir to thee did ill.
'To me nae after days nor nichts
Will eir be saft or kind;
I'll fill the air with heavy sighs,
And greet till I am blind.'
'Enouch of blood by me's bin spilt,
Seek not your death frae mee;
I rather lourd it had been my sel
Than eather him or thee.
'With waefo wae I hear your plaint;
Sair, sair I rew the deid,
That eir this cursed hand of mine
Had gard his body bleid.
'Dry up your tears, my winsom dame,
Ye neir can heal the wound;
Ye see his head upon the speir,
His heart's blude on the ground.
'I curse the hand that did the deid,
The heart that thocht the ill,
The feet that bore me wi sik speid
The comely youth to kill.