Or hang me on a tree;
For sin I’se lost my dear Margaret,
Life’s nae pleasure to me.”
“Your head will nae be touched, Etin,
Nor hanged upon a tree;
Your leddy’s in her father’s court,
And all she wants is thee.”
When in he came before the king,
He fell low on his knee;
“Win up, win up, now, Hynde Etin,