the Elfin Knight stands on Yonder Hill,
bloaw, bloaw, bloaw winds, bloaw
Bloawing his horn loud and shrill.
and the wind has blawin my plaid away
if I had yon horn in my kist, and the bunny lady here I love best!
Ye maun make me a fine Holland sark,
without only stitching or needle wark.
And ye maun wash it in yonder well,
where the dew never wat, nor the rain ever fell.
Now sin ye've askd some things o me,
it's right I ask as mony o thee.
My father he askd me an acre of land,
between the saut sea and the strand.
And ye maun plow't wi your bloawin horn,
and ye maun saw't wi pepper corn.
When ye've dune, and finished your wark,
Ye'll come to me, luve, and get your sark.

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