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Why weep ye
by the tide, ladie?
Why weep ye by the tide?
I'll wed ye to my youngest son,
And ye sall be his
bride:
And ye sall be his bride, ladie,
Sae
comely to be seen"--
But aye she loot the tears sown
fa'
For Jock of Hazeldean.
"Now let this
wilfu' grief be done,
And dry that cheek so pale;
Young Frank is chief of Errington,
And lord of
Langley-dale;
His step is first in peaceful ha'
His sword in battle keen"--
But aye she loot the
tears down fa'
For Jock of Hazeldean.
"A
chain of gold you sall not lack,
Nor braid to bind
your hair;
Nor mettled hound, nor managed hawk,
Nor palfrey fresh and fair;
And you, the foremost o'
them a',
Shall ride our forest queen"--
But aye
she loot the tears down fa'
For Jock of Hazeldean.
The kirk was deck'd at morning-tide,
The tapers
glimmer'd fair;
The priest and bridegroom wait the
bride,
And dame and knight are there.
They
sought her baith by bower and ha';
The ladie was not
seen!
She's o'er the Border and awa'
Wi' Jock of
Hazeldean.
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