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Johnie Cock

JOHNNIE BRAD, on a May mornin, Called for water to wash his hands, An there he spied his twa blude-hounds, Waur bound in iron bands. bands Waur bound in iron bands
Johnnie's taen his gude bent bow, Bot an his arrows kene, An strippit himsel o the scarlet red, An put on the licht Lincoln green.
Up it spak Johnnie's mither, An' a wae, wae woman was she: I beg you bide at hame, Johnnie, I pray be ruled by me.
Baken bread ye sall nae lack, An wine you sall lack nane; Oh Johnnie, for my benison, I beg you bide at hame!
He has made a solemn aith, Atween the sun and the mune, That he wald gae to the gude green wood, The dun deer to ding doon.
He luiket east, he luiket wast, An in below the sun, An there he spied the dun deer, Aneath a bush o brume.
The firsten shot that Johnnie shot, He wounded her in the side; The nexten shot that Johnnie shot, I wat he laid her pride.
He's eaten o the venison, An drunken o the blude, Until he fell as sound asleep As though he had been dead.
Bye there cam a silly auld man, And a silly auld man was he, An he's on to the Seven Foresters, As fast as he can flee.
'As I cam in by yonder haugh, An in among the scroggs, The bonniest boy that ere I saw Lay sleepin atween his dogs.'

The firsten shot that Johnnie shot, He shot them a' but ane, An he flang him owre a milk-white steed, Bade him bear tidings hame.