Late at een, drinking the wine,

Or early in a mornin,

The set a combat them between,

To fight it in the dawnin.

"O stay at hame, my noble lord!

O stay at hame, my marrow!

My cruel brother will you betray,

On the dowy houms o Yarrow."

"O fare ye weel, my lady gaye!

O fare ye weel, my Sarah!

For I maun gae, tho I neer return

Frae the dowy banks o Yarrow."

She kissd his cheek, she kaimed his hair,

As she had done before, O;

She belted on his noble brand,

An he’s awa to Yarrow.

O he’s gane up yon high, high hill -

I wat he gaed wi sorrow -

An in a den spied nine armd men,

I the dowy houms o Yarrow.

"O if ye come to drink the wine,

As ye hae doon before, O?

Or if ye come to wield the brand,

On the bonny banks o Yarrow?"

"I im no come to drink the wine,

As I hae doon before, O,

But I im come to wield the brand,

On the dowy houms o Yarrow."

Four he hurt, an five he slew,

On the dowy houms o Yarrow,

Till that stubborn knight came him behind,

An ran his body thorrow.

"Gae hame, gae hame, good-brother John,

An tell your sister Sarah

To come an lift her noble lord,

Who’s sleepin sound on Yarrow."

"Yestreen I dreamd a dolefu dream;

I kend there wad be sorrow;

I dremd I pu’d the heather green,

On the dowy banks o Yarrow."

She gaed up yon high, high hill -

I wat she gaed wi sorrow -

An in a den spy’d nine dead men,

On the dowy houms o Yarrow.

She kissd his cheek, she kaimd his hair,

As oft she did before, O;

She drank the red blood frae him ran,

On the dowy houms o Yarrow.

"O haud your tongue, my douchter dear,

For what needs a’ this sorrow?

I’ll wed you on a better lord

Than him you lost on Yarrow."

"O haud your tongue, my father dear,

An dinna grieve your Sarah;

A better lord was never born

Than him I lost on Yarrow."

"Tak hame your ousen, take hame your kye,

For they hae bred our sorrow;

I wiss that they had a’ gane mad

Whan they cam first to Yarrow."