Syne they tuke out his bleeding heart, and set it on a spear; Then tuke it to the house o’ Mar, and shaw’d it to his dear.
We could nae gie Sir James’s purse, we can nae gie his brechan, But ye sall hae his bleeding heart, bot and his bleeding tartan, Sir James the Rose, O for thy sake; my heart is now a-breaking! Curs’d be the day, I wrought thy wae, thou brave heir of Buleighan!
Then up she raise, and forth she gaes; and, in that hour o’ tein, She wandered to the dowie glen, and never mair was seen.
The fourteenth of April.
On the fourteenth day of April, as you might hear them say, Our goodly ship was launched, upon that very day. Bound for the stormy ocean, where thundering cannons roar, We left our parents weeping, all on our native shore.
Like lions bold undaunted we bore away to sea, Nothing we could espy, brave boys? till early the next day;
