“By Eildon Tree, for long nights three, In bloody grave have I lain; The mass and the death-prayer are said for me, But, Lady, they are said in vain.
“By the Baron’s brand, near Tweed’s fair strand, Most foully slain, I fell; And my restless sprite on the beacon’s height, For a space is doomed to dwell.
“At our trysting-place, for a certain space, I must wander to and fro; But I had not had power to come to thy bower, Hadst thou not conjured me so.”--
Love mastered fear--her brow she crossed; “How, Richard, hast thou sped? And art thou saved, or art thou lost?” The vision shook his head!
“Who spilleth life, shall forfeit life; So bid thy lord believe: That lawless love is guilt above, This awful sign receive.”
He laid his left palm on an oaken beam: His right upon her hand; The Lady shrunk, and fainting sunk, For it scorched like a fiery brand.
The sable score, of fingers four, Remains on that board impressed; And for evermore that Lady wore A covering on her wrist.
There is a nun in Dryburgh bower, Ne’er looks upon the sun; There is a monk in Melrose tower, He speaketh word to none.
That nun, who ne’er beholds the day, That monk, who speaks to none-- That nun was Smaylho’me’s Lady gay, That monk the bold Baron.
_And mony ane sings o’ grass, o’ grass, And mony ane sings o’ corn; And mony ane sings o’ Robin Hood, Kens little whare he was born._
_It wasna in the ha’, the ha’, Nor in the painted bower; But it was in the gude green wood, Amang the lily flower._
When Robin Hood was about twenty years old, With a hey down down and a down He happend to meet Little John, A jolly brisk blade, right fit for the trade, For he was a lusty young man.
Tho he was calld Little, his limbs they were large, And his stature was seven foot high; Where-ever he came, they quak’d at his name, For soon he would make them to fly.
How they came acquainted, I’ll tell you in brief, If you will but listen a while; For this very jest, amongst all the rest, I think it may cause you to smile.
Bold Robin Hood said to his jolly bowmen, “Pray tarry you here in this grove; And see that you all observe well my call, While thorough the forest I rove.
“We have had no sport for these fourteen long days, Therefore now abroad will I go; Now should I be beat, and cannot retreat, My horn I will presently blow.”