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This night I'll ly in a tenant’s barn,
whatever shall betide me.

Come to your bed, says Johny Faa,
oh come to your bed, my deary;
For I vow and swear, by the hilt of my sword,
that your Lord shall nae mair come near ye,

I'll go to bed to my Johny Faa,
I’ll go to bed to my deary;
For I vow and swear by what past yestreen,
that my Lord shall nae mair come near me.

I’ll mak a hap to my Johny Faa.
and I'll mak a hap to my deary,
And he’s get a' the coat gaes round,
and my Lord shall nae mair come near me.

And when our Lord came hame at een,
and speer'd for his fair Lady,
The tane she cry’d, and the other reply’d,
she’s away with the gypsie Laddie.

Gae saddle to me the black black steed,
get saddle and make him ready;
Before that I either eat or sleep,
I'll gae seek my fair Lady.

And we were fifteen well-made men,
altho’ we were nae bonny:
And we were a’ put down for ane,
a fair young wanton Lady.

GLASGOW
Printed by J. & M. Robertson, Saltmarket, 1803.