Jock o' Hazeldean (V)

'Why weep ye by the tide, ladie,
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, ladie
Sae comely tae be seen'
But aye she loot the tears doon fa'
Fae Jock o' Hazeldean.

'Now let this wilfu' grief be done,
And dry that cheek sae pale;
Young Frank is chief o' Errington,
And laird o' Langley-dale;
His step is first in peaceful ha',
His sword in battle keen'
But aye she loot the tears doon fa'
Fae Jock o' Hazeldean.

'A chain o' gold ye shall no lack,
Nor braid tae bind your hair,
Nor mettled hound, nor managed hawk,
Nor palfrey fresh and fair
And ye, the fairest o them a'
Shall ride wer forest queen.'
But aye she loot the tears doon fa'
Fae Jock o' Hazeldean.

The kirk was deck'd at mornin tide,
The tapers glimmer'd fair.
The priest and bridegroom wait the bride,
And dame and knight are there.
They sought her baith by bower and ha'
The ladie wasnae seen.
She's o'er the border and awa',
Wi' Jock o' Hazeldean!