Jock O'Hazeldean

"Why weep ye by the tide, lady?
 Why weep ye by the tide?
 I'll wed ye tae my youngest son,
 And ye shall be his bride:
 And ye shall be his bride, lady,
 Sae comely to hae be' seen" –
 But aye she let the tears doon fall
 For Jock O'Hazeldean.
 "Now let this weary grief be done,
 And dry your cheek so pale;
 Young Frank is chief of Errington,
 And lord of Langley-dale;
 His step is feared thoughout the land,
 His sword in battle keen" –
 But aye she let the tears doon fall
 For Jock O'Hazeldean.
 "A chain of gold ye shall not lack,
 Nor braid to bind your hair;
 Nor mettled hound, nor managed hawk,
 Nor palfrey fresh and fair;
 And you, the fairest of them all,
 Shall ride the forest queen" –
 But oh she let the tears doon fall
 For Jock O'Hazeldean.
 The kirk was deck'd at morning-tide,
 The tapers glimmer'd fair;
 The priest and bridegroom wait the bride,
 The dame and knight were there.
 They sought her far throughout the land;
 The lady was not seen!
 She's o'er the Border, and awa'
 Wi' Jock O'Hazeldean.