“Now I have a wife and children five,
  (Follow, my love, come over the strand)
  In Edenborough they be alive,
  And thou the fair flower of Northumberland.

  “And if thou wilt not give thy hand,
  (Follow, my love, come over the strand)
  Then get thee home to fair England,
  And thou the fair flower of Northumberland

  “This favour thou shalt have, to boot,
  (Follow, my love, come over the strand)
  I’ll have thy horse; go thou on foot,
  Even thou the fair flower of Northumberland.”

  “O false and faithless knight,” quoth she;
  (Follow, my love, come over the strand)
  “And canst thou deal so bad with me,
  Even I the fair flower of Northumberland?”

  He took her from her stately steed,
  (Follow, my love, come over the strand)
  And left her there in extreme need,
  And she the fair flower of Northumberland.

  Then she sat down full heavily,
  (Follow, my love, come over the strand)
  At length two knights came riding by,
  And she the fair flower of Northumberland.

  Two gallant knights of fair England,
  (Follow, my love, come over the strand)
  And there they found her on the strand,
  Even she the fair flower of Northumberland.

  She fell down humbly on her knee,
  (Follow, my love, come over the strand)
  Crying, “Courteous knights, take pity on me,
  Even I the fair flower of Northumberland.

  “I have offended my father dear,
  (Follow, my love, come over the strand)
  For a false knight that brought me here,
  Even I the fair flower of Northumberland.”

  They took her up beside them then,
  (Follow, my love, come over the strand)
  And brought her to her father again,
  And she the fair flower of Northumberland.

  Now all you fair maids, be warned by me,
  (Follow, my love, come over the strand)
  Scots never were true, nor ever will be,
  To lord, nor lady, nor fair England.

  WHITTINGHAM FAIR.

  Are you going to Whittingham Fair
  (Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme),
  Remember me to one that lives there,
  For once she was a true lover of mine.

  Tell her to make me a cambric shirt,
  (Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme),
  Without any seam or needlework,
  Then she shall be a true lover of mine.

  Tell her to wash it in yonder well,
  (Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme),
  Where never spring water or rain ever fell,
  And she shall be a true lover of mine.

  Tell her to dry it on yonder thorn,
  (Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme),
  Which never bore blossom since Adam was born. 
  Then she shall be a true lover of mine.

  Now he has asked me questions three,
  (Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme),
  I hope he’ll answer as many for me,
  Before he shall be a true lover of mine.