24 'Nut-brown was his hawk,' they said,
'And yellow-fit was his hound,
And milk-white was the goodly steed
The bluidie knicht rade on.'
25 'Gin nut-brown was his hawk,' she said,
'And yellow-fit was his hound,
And milk-white was the gudely steed,
He's up to London gone.'
26 They spurrd their steeds out ower the lea,
They being void o fear;
Syne up she gat, and awa she gade,
Wi tidings to her dear.
27 'Lye still, lye still, Love Willie,' she said,
'Lye still and tak your sleep;'
Syne he took up his good braid sword,
And wounded her fu deep.
28 'O wae be to you, Love Willie,' she said,
'And an ill death may ye die!
For first ye slew my ae brither,
And now ye hae killd me.'
29 'Oh live, oh live, true-love,' he said,
'Oh live but ae half hour,
And there's not a docter in a' London
But sall be in your bower.'
30 'How can I live, Love Willie,' she said,
'For the space of half an hour?
Dinnae ye see my clear heart's blood
A rinnin down the floor?
31 'Tak aff, tak aff my holland sark,
And rive't frae gare to gair,
And stap it in my bleeding wounds;
They'll may be bleed nae mair.'
32 Syne he took aff her holland sark,
And rave't frae gare to gair,
And stappit it in her bleeding wounds,
But aye they bled the mair.
33 'Gae dress yoursell in black,' she said,
'And gae whistling out the way,
And mourn nae mair for your true-love
When she's laid in the clay.'