"Why weep ye by the tide, lady? Why weep ye by the tide? I'll wed ye tae my youngest son, And ye shall be his bride: And ye shall be his bride, lady, Sae comely to hae be' seen" – But aye she let the tears doon fall For Jock O'Hazeldean. "Now let this weary grief be done, And dry your cheek so pale; Young Frank is chief of Errington, And lord of Langley-dale; His step is feared thoughout the land, His sword in battle keen" – But aye she let the tears doon fall For Jock O'Hazeldean. "A chain of gold ye shall not lack, Nor braid to bind your hair; Nor mettled hound, nor managed hawk, Nor palfrey fresh and fair; And you, the fairest of them all, Shall ride the forest queen" – But oh she let the tears doon fall For Jock O'Hazeldean. The kirk was deck'd at morning-tide, The tapers glimmer'd fair; The priest and bridegroom wait the bride, The dame and knight were there. They sought her far throughout the land; The lady was not seen! She's o'er the Border, and awa' Wi' Jock O'Hazeldean.