8
"It had been gude for my wife, father,
To me she'd borne an heir;
He would have got my lands and rents
Where they lie fine and fair.”
The steeds they strave into their stables,
The boys could not get them bound,
The hounds lay howling on the beach,
'Cause their master was behind.
"I dream'd a dream since late yestreen,
I wish it may be good,
That our chamber was full of swine,
An' our bed full of blood.
"I saw a woman come from the west,
Full sore wringing her hands,
And aye she cried, Ohon, alas!
My good lord's broken bands.
"As she came by my gude lord's bower
Saw mony black steeds and brown,—
I'm feared it be mony unco lords
Having my love from town.
"As she came by my gude lord's bower,
Saw mony black steeds and grey,—
I'm fear'd it's mony unco lords
Havin' my love to the clay."
