5
It's surely to my bower woman,
It ne'er could be to me;
Then up and spake the wily nurse,
(The bairn upon her knee,)
If it be come from Gill Moricc,
'Tis dear welcome to me.
Ye lied, ye lied, ye filthy nurse,
Sae loud's I hear you lie;
I brought it to Lord Barnard's Lady,
I trow ye be not she.
Then up and spake the bauld Baron,
An angry man was he,
He's ta'en the table wi' his foot,
In flinders gart a' flee;
Gae bring a robc 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 hamc,
Ne'er wyte a man for violence,
That ne'er wyte ye wi' nane.
Gill Morice sits in yon green wood,
He whistled and he sang;
O what mcan a' these folk coming?
My mother tarries lang.
And whcn he came to good green wood,
