When Johnie's mother gat word o' that,
Her hands for dule she wrang—
"O Johnie! for my benison,
"To the grenewood dinna gang!
"Eneugh ye hae o' the gude wheat bread,
"And eneugh o' the blude-red wine;
"And, therefore, for nae venison, Johnie,
"I pray ye, stir frae hame."
But Johnie's busk't up his gude bend bow,
His arrows, ane by ane;