And they hae chaced in gude grene-wood,
The buck but and the rae,
Till they drew near Brown Robin's hour,
About the close o' day.
Then out and spake the king himsell,
Says—"Arthur, look and see,
"Gin you be not your favourite page,
"That leans against yon tree."
O Arthur's ta'en a bugle-horn,
And blawn a blast sae shrill;