A ballad of Gretna Green

Oh, come ye from beyond Carlisle,

Or come ye from the North?

Oh, we have come full many a mile,

'Twas night when we set forth.

My lady fair and I have rid

From set to set of sun_

Oh, haste thee, haste thee, jolly smith,

Be quick and make us one.

My lady's father rides behind,

And he has pressed us sore,

His horses hoof beats have I heard

For fifteen miles or more;

So haste thee, haste thee. jolly smith,

Be quick and make us one.

If only for thy lady's eyes,

My Lord, it shall be done.

So get thee from thy reeking horse,

I'll help thy lady down,

And ye shall bravely wedded be

As e'er in London Town.

So come then, come within my forge

And thou shalt wed thy bride,

And ne'er a one shall break the bond,

From Land's End to the Clyde.