3 'One wing of the beaten gowd,
And another of the silver clear;
It's all unto thee, my pretty little bird,
If thou my tidings will bear.'
4 The bird flew high, the bird flew low,
This bird flew to and fro,
Until that he came to the king of England's dochter,
Who was sitting in her bower-window.
5 'Here is a gift, a very rare gift,
And the king has sent you three;
He says if your father and mother winna let,
You may come privately.
6 'Here is a gift, and a very rare gift,
The king has sent you five;
He says he will not wait any longer on you,
If there be another woman alive.'
7 She's away to her mother dear,
Made a low beck on her knee:
'What is your asking of me, daughter?
Queen of Scotland you never shall be.'
8 'That's not my asking of thee, mother,
That's not my asking of thee;
But that if I die in merry England,
In Scotland you will bury me.'
9 She's awa to her father dear,
Made a low beck on her knee:
'What is your asking of me, daughter?
Queen of Scotland you never shall be.'
10 'That's not my asking of thee, father,
That's not my asking of thee;
But that if I die in merry England,
In Scotland you will bury me.'
11 She walked to and fro,
She walked up and down,
But ye wud na spoken three words to an end
Till she was in a deep swoon.
12 Out then spoke an auld witch-wife,
And she spoke random indeed:
Honoured madam, I would have you to try
Three drops of the burning lead.