Page:Tragical history of Gill Morice (1).pdf/3

"Haste, haste, I say, gae to the ha',
And bid her come here wi' speed;
If ye refuse my high command
I'll gar thy body bleed.
Gae, bid her take this gay mantle.
'Tis a' gowd but the hem:
Bid her come to the good green wood,
And bring nane but her lane;
And there it is, a silken sark,
Her ain hand sew'd the sleeve;
And bid her come to Gill Morice,
Speir nae bauld Baron's leave."
"Yes, I will gae your black errand,
Though it be to my cost;
Sin ye by me will hae be warn'd,
In it ye shall find frost.
The Baron he's a man of might,
He ne'er could bide a taunt,
As ye shall see before it's night,
How sma' ye ha'e to vaunt.
Now, sin I maun your errand rin,
Sair, sair against my will,
I'se make a vow, and keep in true,
It shall be done for ill."
And when he came to broken brig,
He bent his bow and swam;
And when he came to grass growing,
Set down his feet and ran:
And when he came to Barnard's ha',
Wou'd neither chap nor ca';
But set his bent how to his breast,

And lightly lap the wa'.