(5)
It's ſurely to my bow'r woman,
it ne'er cou'd be to me.
I brought it to Lord Barnard's Lady,
I true that ye be ſhe.
Then and ſpake the wylie nurſe,
(the bairn upon her knee,)
If it be come from Gill Morice,
'tis dear welcome to me.
Ye leid, ye leid, ye filthy nurſe,
ſae loud's I hear ye lie!
I brought it to Lord Barnard's Lady,
I trow ye bs na ſhe.
Then up and ſpake the bauld Baron,
an angry man was he!
He's tain the table wi' his foot,
in flinders gart a' flee!
Gae bring a ⟨robe⟩ of yon cleiding,
that hangs upon the pin,
And I'll gae to the good Green-wood,
and ſpeak with your leman.
O bide at hame, now Lord Barnard,
I warn ye, bide at hame;
Ne'er wyte a nan for violence,
that ne'er wyte ye wi' nane.
Gill Morice fits in good Green-wood,
he whiſtl'd, and he ſang;
O what means a' yon folk coming?
my mother tarries lang.
