His bodie lies deep amang rushes green,
Where corbies pike at his bonnie blue een,
And taeds sleep in his hair,
Balow!
And taeds sleep in his hair.

"The grey owl sits on yon willow tree,
Whose branches o'er him weep,
And sends its scream far o'er the lea,
Where night winds whisper mournfullie,
And through the rashes sweep,
Balow!
And through the rashes sweep.

"When first I met wi' Hab o' the Howe
I had scarce twice nine years seen,
And he swore by our Ladye o' Rumbollow
I had set a' his heart in a holy lowe
Wi' the fire o' my twa black een,
Balow!
Wi' the fire o' my twa black een.

"Of a' the fair maidens on Rumbollow green
There was nane sae fair as me,
Wi' my kilted kirtle o' mazarine,
And buckles as bright as the siller sheen,
And my coatie o' cramosie,
Balow!
And my coatie o' cramosie.