| 1 |
Lord Thomas is to the hunting gone,
To hunt the fallow deer;
Lady Margaret's to the greenwood shaw,
To see her lover hunt there. |
| 2 |
He has looked over his left shoulder,
To see what might be seen,
And there he saw Lady Margaret,
As she was riding her lane. |
| 3 |
He called on his servants all,
By one, by two, by three:
'Go hunt, go hunt that wild woman,
Go hunt her far from me!' |
| 4 |
They hunted her high, they hunted her low,
They hunted her over the plain,
And the red scarlet robes Lady Margaret had on
Would never be mended again. |
| 5 |
They hunted her high, they hunted her low,
They hunted her over the plain,
Till at last she spy'd a tall young man,
As he was riding alane. |
| 6 |
'Some relief, some relief, thou tall young man!
Some relief I pray thee grant me!
For I am a lady deep wronged in love,
And chased from my own countrie.' |
| 7 |
'No relief, no relief, thou lady fair,
No relief will I grant unto thee
Till once thou renounce all the men in the world
My wedded wife for to be.' |
| 8 |
Then he set her on a milk-white steed,
Himself upon a gray,
And he has drawn his hat over his face,
And chearfully they rode away. |
| 9 |
Lady Margaret was at her bower-window,
Sewing her silken seam,
And there she spy'd, like a wandering bodie,
Lord Thomas begging alane. |
| 10 |
'Dome relief, some relief, thou lady fair!
Some relief, I pray thee grant me!
For I am a puir auld doited carle,
And banishd from my ain countrie.' |
| 11 |
'No relief, no relief, thou perjured man,
No relief will I grant unto thee;
For oh, if I had thee within my bower,
There hanged dead thou would be.' |
| 12 |
'No such thing, Lady Margaret,' he said,
'Such a thing would never be;
For with my broadsword I would kill thy wedded lord,
And carry thee far off with me.' |
| 13 |
'Oh no, no! Lord Thomas,' she said,
'Oh, no such things must be;
For I have wine in my cellars,
And you must drink with me.' |
| 14 |
Lady Margaret then called her servants all,
By one, by two, by three:
'Go fetch me the bottles of blude-red wine,
That Lord Thomas may drink with me.' |
| 15 |
They brought her the bottles of blude-red wine,
By one, by two, by three,
And with her fingers long and small
She poisond them all three. |
| 16 |
She took the cup in her lilly-white hand,
Betwixt her finger and her thumb,
She put it to her red rosy lips,
But never a drop went down. |
| 17 |
Then he took the cup in his manly hand,
Betwixt his finger and his thumb,
He put it to his red rosy lips,
And so merrily it ran down. |
| 18 |
'Oh, I am wearied drinking with thee, Margaret!
I am wearied drinking with thee!'
'And so was I,' Lady Margaret said,
'When thou hunted thy hounds after me.' |
| 19 |
'But I will bury thee, Lord Thomas,' she said,
'Just as if thou wert one of my own;
And when that my good lord comes home
I will say thou's my sister's son.' |
