Wi' bow and arrow by his side,
He took his path alane;
And left his seven young children
To bide wi' their mither at hame.

"O I wad ask ye something, mither,
An ye wadna angry be."
"Ask on, ask on, my eldest son;
Ask ony thing at me."

"Your cheeks are aft-times weet, mither;
You're greetin', as I can see."
"Nae wonder, nae wonder, my little son,
Nae wonder though I should dee!

"For I was ance an Earl's daughter,
Of noble birth and fame;
And now I'm the mither o' seven sons
Wha ne'er gat christendame."

He's ta'en his mither by the hand,
His six brithers also,
And they are on through Elmond-wood
As fast as they could go.

They wistna weel wha they were gaen,
And weary were their feet;
They wistna weel wha they were gaen,
Till they stopped at her father's gate.