Lady Margaret cam doon the stair,
Wringin her hands an tearin her hair;
Cryin, Oh, that ever I to Scotland cam,
A’ to see Young Logie dee!
8
‘Haud your tongue noo, Lady Margaret,
An a’ your weepin lat a bee!
For I’ll counterfiet the king’s hand-write,
An steal frae him his richt hand gloe,
An send them to Pitcairn’s wa’s,