'Whenas I harp to the children small,
They press me close on either hand.
And who are you,' True Thomas said,
'That you should ride while they must stand?
'Light down, light down from your horse o' pride,
I trow ye talk too loud and hie,
And I will make you a triple word,
And syne, if ye dare, ye shall 'noble me.'
He has lighted down from his horse o' pride,
And set his back against the stone.
'Now guard you well,' True Thomas said,
'Ere I rax your heart from your breast-bone!'
True Thomas played upon his harp,
The fairy harp that couldna lee,
And the first least word the proud King heard,
It harpit the salt tear out o' his e'e.
'Oh, I see the love that I lost long syne,
I touch the hope that I may not see,
And all that I did o' hidden shame,
Like little snakes they hiss at me.
