Why weep ye by the tide, ladye? 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, ladye Sae comely to be seen But aye she loot the tears down la' For Jock o' Hazeldean. A chain of gold ye shall not lack Nor braid to bind you hair Nor mettled hound, nor managed halk Nor palfrey fresh and fair And you, the fairest of them a' Shall ride our forest queen But aye she loot the tears down la' For Jock o' 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 ladye was not seen She's o'er the border and awa' Wi' Jock o' Hazeldean!