7
Five wounds on his body, his hair scalped away,
His clothes, sword, and pistol, of all made a prey.
And one of his fingers from his hand they had cut,
On which was the gold ring from his lover he got.
In that very moment in Scotland we hear,
A dreadful spectre to his love did appear.
As she was a-weeping under the green oak,
He quiekly passed by her and not a word spoke,
Yet shaking his left hand, where the ring he did wear.
It wanted a finger, and blood dropped there.
Whereat the young lady was struck with amaze,
And rose to run after and on him did gaze,
As she knew it was Grigor, but how in that plaee,
It made her to wonder and dread the sad case.
With terror and grief home she did retire,
And spent the whole night in weeping and prayer;
So early next morning she rose with the sun,
And went back to the green oak to weep all alone.
For always she esteemed that place as we hear,
As on it she got the last sight of her dear:
As there she sat weeping and tearing her hair,
Again the pale spectre to her did appear.
And with a wild aspect it stared in her face,
Then said, O dear Katie, do not me embrace,
For I'm but a spirit though shining in blood,
My body lies murdered in a foreign wood.
There's two wounds in my body and three in my side,
With hatchets and arrows that's both deep and wide
My sealp and fine hair for a premium are sold,
As also my finger with the ring of pure gold.
