Jock of Hazeldean

Why weep ye by the tide, Lady
Why weep ye by the tide?
I’ll wed ye to my youngest son
And ye shall be his bride
And ye shall be his bride, Lady
Se comely to be seen
By ay she’s let the tears down fa'
For Jock of Hazeldean
Noo let this wilfu' grief be done
And dry that cheek so pale
Young Frank is chief or Errington
And lord of Langley-dale
His step is first in peaceful ha'
His sword in battle keen
But ay she’s let the tears down fa'
For Jock of Hazeldean
A chain o' gowd ye shall na lack
Nor braid to bind your hair
Not mettled hound, nor managed hawk
Nor palfrey fresh and fair
And ye the fairest o' them a'
Shall ride our forest queen
But ay she’s let the tears down fa'
For Jock of Hazeldean