Go seek in the wild glen
Where streamlets are falling,
Go seek on the lone hill
Where curlews are calling,
Go seek when the clear stars
Shine down without number,
For there will ye find him
My true love in slumber.
They sought in the wild glen—
The glen was forsaken;
They sought on the mountain,
’Mang lang lady-bracken;
And sore, sore they hunted
My true love to find him,
With the strong bands of iron
To fetter and bind him.
Yon green hill I’ll give thee,
Where the falcon is flying,
To show me the den where
This bold traitor’s lying—
O make me of Nithsdale’s
Fair princedom the heiress,
Is that worth one smile of
My gentle Hugh Herries?
The white bread, the sweet milk,
And ripe fruits I found him,
And safe in my fond arms
I clasp’d and I wound him;
I warn you go not where
My true lover tarries,
For sharp smites the sword of
My gentle Hugh Herries.
They rein’d their proud war-steeds,
Away they went sweeping,
And behind them dames wail’d, and
Fair maidens went weeping;
But deep in yon wild glen,
’Mang banks of blae-berries,
I dwell with my loved one,
My gentle Hugh Herries.