I
May Margaret sits in her bower door
Sewing her silken seam;
She heard a note in Elmond’s wood,
And wish’d she there had been.
II
She loot[259] the seam fa’ frae her side,
The needle to her tae[260],
And she is on to Elmond’s wood
As fast as she could gae.
III
She hadna pu’d a nut, a nut,
Nor broken a branch but ane,
Till by there came the Hynd Etin,
Says, ‘Lady, lat alane.
IV
‘O why pu’ ye the nut, the nut,
Or why break ye the tree?
For I am forester o’ this wood:
Ye should spier[261] leave at me.’—
V
‘I’ll ask leave at nae living man,
Nor yet will I at thee;
My father is king o’er a’ this realm,
This wood belongs to me.’