‘Gar saddle me the bonny black,
Gar saddle sune, and make him ready;
For I will down the Gatehope-Slack,
And all to see my bonny ladye.’
III
He has loupen on the bonny black,
He stirr’d him wi’ the spur right sairly;
But, or he wan the Gatehope-Slack,
I think the steed was wae and weary.
IV
He has loupen on the bonny grey,
He rade the right gate[570] and the ready;
I trow he would neither stint nor stay,
For he was seeking his bonny ladye.
V
O he has ridden o’er field and fell,
Through muir and moss, and mony a mire:
His spurs o’ steel were sair to bide,
And frae her fore-feet flew the fire.
VI
‘Now, bonny grey, now play your part!
Gin ye be the steed that wins my deary,
Wi’ corn and hay ye’se be fed for aye,
And never spur sall make you wearie.’