Jock of Hazeldean

WHY weep ye by the tide, ladie?

Why weep ye by the tide?

I'll wed ye to my youngest son,

And ye sall be his bride:

And ye sall be his bride, ladie,

Sae comely to be seen"--

But aye she loot the tears sown fa'

For Jock of Hazeldean.

"Now let this wilfu' grief be done,

And dry that cheek so pale;

Young Frank is chief of Errington,

And lord of Langley-dale;

His step is first in peaceful ha'

His sword in battle keen"--

But aye she loot the tears down fa'

For Jock of Hazeldean.

"A chain of gold you sall 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',

Shall ride our forest queen"--

But aye she loot the tears down fa'

For Jock of Hazeldean.

The kirk was deck'd at morning-tide,

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 ladie was not seen!

She's o'er the Border and awa'

Wi' Jock of Hazeldean.

Sir Walter Scott

Index to poems in the collection by Sir Walter Scott