Jock O'hazeldean

Why weep ye by the tide, lady

Why weep ye by the tide?

I'll wed ye to my youngest son

And you will be his bride

And you will be his bride, lady

Sae comely to be seen

And aye she let the tears doon fa'

For Jock o' Hazeldean.

Now let this willfu' grief be done

And dry ya cheek sae pale

Young Frank is chief of Errington

And laird o' Langley-dale

His step is first in peaceful ha'

His sword in battle keen

But aye she let the tears doon fa'

For Jock o' Hazeldean.

A chain of gold you shall not lack

Nor braid to bind your hair

Nor mettled hound, nor managed hawk

Nor palfrey fresh and fair.

And you, the foremost o' them a'll

Will ride our forrest queen

But aye she let the tears doon fa'

For Jock o' Hazeldean.

The church was deck'd at morningtide

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 lady was nae seen

She's o'er the border and awa'

Wi' Jock o' Hazeldean.