| 1 |
'O where hae ye been, Lord Ronald, my son?
O where hae ye been, Lord Ronald, my son?'
'I hae been wi my sweetheart; mother, make my bed soon,
For I'm weary wi the hunting, and fain wad lie down.' |
| 2 |
'What got ye frae your sweetheart, Lord Ronald, my son?
What got ye frae your sweetheart, Lord Ronald, my son?'
'I hae got deadly poison; mother, make my bed soon,
For life is a burden that soon I'll lay down.'
* * * * * |
