Trad The boar he has a-hunting gone to
a lady of command
And he's gone to the lady fox and he has
proffered her his hand
You're welcome here, Lord Bruin, she
says, you are welcome here to me
But ere I lie unto your bed, you must grant me
favours three
Favours three then I will grant, no
matter what these favours are
For there isn't a beast in all the wood that will
dare to challenge me
Then bid me bring the red-deer's
heart, or the nambles of the hind
To be a bridal supper dish fitting my true
lover's mind
No! Ah no! cries the lady fox, These
are not the gifts for me
But there are three birds in fair Scotland,
sitting on a single tree
And I must have the hearts of one, and
the heads of the other two
Then I will go, for will or woe, and be a bride,
a bride to you
Repeat 1
Woe be to that lady fox, she's the
vilest of her breed
For the bonny birds were reaved awa' and
condemned by her to bleed
The boar was caught inside her den
with a trap that severed his leg
And she's tied the boar up by the neck, and he
has hung till he was dead
As sung by The Battlefield Band