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 howbow [sic] to his breast, And lightly lap the wa'.