| 1 |
The lady's taen her mantle her middle about,
Into the woods she's gane,
. . . . . .
. . . . . |
| 2 |
She hadna poud a flower o gude green-wood,
O never a flower but ane,
Till by he comes, an by he gangs,
Says, Lady, lat alane. |
| 3 |
For I am forester o this wood,
And I hae power to pine
Your mantle or your maidenhead,
Which o the twa ye'll twine. |
| 4 |
'My mantle is o gude green silk,
Another I can card an spin;
But gin ye tak my maidenhead,
The like I'll never fin.' |
| 5 |
He's taen her by the milk-white hand,
And by the grass-green sleeve,
And laid her low at the foot o a tree,
At her high kin spierd nae leave. |
| 6 |
'I am bold Burnet's ae daughter,
You might hae lat me be:'
'And I'm bold Burnet's ae dear son,
Then dear! how can this dee?' |
| 7 |
'Ye lie, ye lie, ye jolly hind squire,
So loud's I hear you lie!
Bold Burnet has but ae dear son,
He's sailing on the sea.' |
| 8 |
'Yesterday, about this same time,
My bonny ship came to land;
I wish she'd sunken in the sea,
And never seen the strand! |
| 9 |
'Heal well this deed on me, lady,
Heal well this deed on me!'
'Although I would heal it neer sae well,
Our God above does see.' |
| 10 |
She's taen her mantle her middle about,
And mourning went she hame,
And a' the way she sighd full sair,
Crying, Am I to blame! |
| 11 |
Ben it came her father dear,
Stout stepping on the flear:
'Win up, win up, my daughter Janet,
And welcome your brother here.' |
| 12 |
Up she's taen her milk-white hand,
Streakd by his yellow hair,
Then turnd about her bonny face,
And word spake never mair. |
