304
'Thro' Sillarwood, sweet Sillarwood,
The deer hounds run so free;
But the hunter stark of Sillarwood
An Ettin lang is he!'
'O, Sillarwood! sweet Sillarwood,'
Fair Marjorie did sing,
'On the tallest tree in Sillarwood,
That Ettin lang will hing!'
The Southern wind it blaws fu' saft,
And Sillarwood is near;
Fair Marjorie's sang in Sillarwood,
The stark hunter did hear.
He band his deer hounds in their leash,
Set his bow against a tree,
And three blasts on his horn has brocht
The wood elf to his knee.
'Gae bring to me a shapely weed,
Of silver and of gold,
Gae bring to me as stark a steed,
As ever stepped on mold;
For I maun ride frae Sillarwood
This fair maid to behold!'
