"Ae bit I canna eat, father, Ae drop I canna drink, Till I see Etin, my husband dear; Sae lang for him I think!" "O where are a' my rangers bold That I pay meat and fee, To search the forest far and wide, And bring Hynd Etin to me?" Out it speaks the little wee boy: "Na, na, this maunna be; Without ye grant a free pardon, I hope ye'll na him see!" "O here I grant a free pardon, Well sealed wi' my ain han'; And mak' ye search for Hynd Etin, As sune as ever ye can." They searched the country braid and wide, The forest far and near, And they found him into Elmond-wood, Tearing his yellow hair. "Win up, win up now, Hynd Etin, Win up and boun' wi' me; For we are come frae the castle, And the Earl wad fain you see." "O lat him tak' my head," he says, "Or hang me on a tree; For sin' I've lost my dear lady, My life's nae worth to me!" "Your head will na be touched, Etin, Nor sall you hang on tree; Your lady's in her father's court, And all he wants is thee." When he cam' in before the Earl, He louted on his knee: "Win up, win up now, Hynd Etin; This day ye'se dine wi' me." As they were at their dinner set, The boy he asked a boon: "I wold we were in haly kirk, To get our christendoun. "For we hae lived in gude greenwood These twelve lang years and ane; But a' this time since e'er I mind Was never a kirk within." "Your asking's na sae great, my boy, But granted it sall be: This day to haly kirk sall ye gang, And your mither sall gang you wi'." When she cam' to the haly kirk, She at the door did stan'; She was sae sunken doun wi' shame, She couldna come farther ben. Then out it spak' the haly priest, Wi' a kindly word spak' he: "Come ben, come ben, my lily-flower, And bring your babes to me." * * * * * LAMKIN. It's Lamkin was a mason good As ever built wi' stane; He built Lord Wearie's castle, But payment gat he nane. "O pay me, Lord Wearie, Come, pay me my fee:" "I canna pay you, Lamkin, For I maun gang o'er the sea." "O pay me now, Lord Wearie, Come, pay me out o' hand:" "I canna pay you, Lamkin, Unless I sell my land." "O gin ye winna pay me, I here sall mak' a vow, Before that ye come hame again, Ye sall hae cause to rue." Lord Wearie got a bonny ship, To sail the saut sea faem; Bade his lady weel the castle keep, Ay till he should come hame. But the nourice was a fause limmer As e'er hung on a tree; She laid a plot wi' Lamkin, Whan her lord was o'er the sea. She laid a plot wi' Lamkin, When the servants were awa', Loot him in at a little shot-window, And brought him to the ha'. "O where's a' the men o' this house, That ca' me Lamkin?" "They're at the barn-well thrashing; 'Twill be lang ere they come in." "And where's the women o' this house, That ca' me Lamkin?" "They're at the far well washing; 'Twill be lang ere they come in."