Lord Ronald my Son—-

O WHERE hae ye been, Lord Ronald, my son?
O where hae ye been, Lord Ronald, my son?
I hae been wi' my sweetheart, mother, make my bed soon;
For I'm weary wi' the hunting, and fain wad lie down.------

What got ye frae your sweetheart, Lord Ronald, my son?
What got ye frae your sweetheart, Lord Ronald, my son?
I hae got deadly poison, mother, make my bed soon,
For life is a burden that soon I'll lay down.----