It’s twenty lang miles to Sillertoun town,
The langest that ever were gane;
But the steed it was wight, and the ladye was light,
And she cam’ linkin’ in.
XII
But when she came to Sillertoun town,
And into Sillertoun ha’,
The torches were burning, the ladies were mourning,
And they were weeping a’.
XIII
‘O where is now my wedded lord,
And where now can he be?
O where is now my wedded lord?
For him I canna see.’—
XIV
‘Your wedded lord is dead,’ she says,
‘And just gane to be laid in the clay;
Your wedded lord is dead,’ she says,
‘And just gane to be buried the day.
XV
‘Ye’se get nane o’ his gowd, ye’se get nane o’ his gear,
Ye’se get nae thing frae me;
Ye’se na get an inch o’ his gude broad land,
Tho’ your heart suld burst in three.’