O heard ye of a silly Harper, Liv'd long in Lochmaben town, How he did gang to fair England, To steal King Henry's Wanton Brown? But first he gaed to his gude wife Wi' a' the speed that he coud thole: "This wark," quo' he, "will never work, Without a mare that has a foal." Quo' she, "Thou hast a gude grey mare, That'll rin o'er hills baith low and hie; 10 Gae tak' the grey mare in thy hand, And leave the foal at hame wi' me. "And tak a halter in thy hose, And o' thy purpose dinna fail; But wap it o'er the Wanton's nose; 15 And tie her to the grey mare's tail: "Syne ca' her out at yon back yeate, O'er moss and muir and ilka dale, For she'll ne'er let the Wanton bite, Till she come hame to her ain foal." 20 So he is up to England gane, Even as fast as he can hie, Till he came to King Henry's yeate; And wha' was there but King Henry? "Come in," quo' he, "thou silly blind Harper, 25 And of thy harping let me hear;" "O, by my sooth," quo' the silly blind Harper, "I'd rather hae stabling for my mare." The King looks o'er his left shoulder, And says unto his stable groom, 30 "Gae tak the silly poor Harper's mare, And tie her 'side my wanton brown." And ay he harpit, and ay he carpit, Till a' the lords gaed through the floor; They thought the music was sae sweet, 35 That they forgat the stable door. And ay he harpit, and ay he carpit, Till a' the nobles were sound asleep, Than quietly he took aff his shoon, And saftly down the stair did creep. 40 Syne to the stable door he hies, Wi' tread as light as light coud be, And whan he open'd and gaed in, There he fand thirty good steeds and three. He took the halter frae his hose, 45 And of his purpose did na' fail; He slipt it o'er the Wanton's nose, And tied it to his grey mare's tail. He ca'd her out at yon back yeate, O'er moss and muir and ilka dale, 50 And she loot ne'er the Wanton bite, But held her still gaun at her tail. The grey mare was right swift o' fit, And did na fail to find the way, For she was at Lochmaben yeate, 55 Fu' lang three hours ere it was day. When she came to the Harper's door, There she gae mony a nicher and snear; "Rise," quo' the wife, "thou lazy lass, Let in thy master and his mare." 60 Then up she raise, pat on her claes, And lookit out through the lock hole; "O, by my sooth," then quoth the lass, "Our mare has gotten a braw big foal."