An he’s laid her low on the dewy grass,
An at nae ane spiered he leave.
5
Then he’s mounted on his milk-white steed,
An ridden after his men,
An a’ that his men they said to him
Was, Dear master, ye’ve tarried lang.
6
‘I’ve ridden east, an I’ve ridden wast,
An I’ve ridden amang the knowes,