A collection of ancient and modern Scottish ballads, etc

188
^' What colour were his hawks ?" she cried,
" What colour were his hounds ?
What colour was the gallant steed.
That bore him from the bounds j^'*
^' Bloody, bloody were his hawks,
And bloody were his hounds.
And milk-white was the gallant steed.
That bore him from the bounds."
*' Yes, bloody, bloody were his ha^vkSj
And bloody were his hovmds.
And milk-white was the gallant steed.
That bore him from the bounds :
^ But light ye down, now, gentlemen^
And take some bread and wine ;
An' the steed be good he rides upon.
He's past the bridge of Tyne."
" We thank you for your bread, lady.
We thank you for your wine ;
I wad gie thrice three thousand pounds
Your fair bodie was mine."
*' Lie still, lie still, my dear Johnstone,
Lie still and take a sleep.
For there's four-and-twenty belted knights
Just gone out at the gate."
But young Johnstone had a wee penknife^,
Hung low down by his gair.
And he ritted it through his dear lady^
And wounded her sae sair.