O Keith o’ Craigentolly!
Ye sall live to rue the day
When ye brak the berried holly
Beside St. Andrew's bay!
When Pitcullo's kine
Card down to the brine,
And were drooned in the driving spray!
In the bower o’ Craigentolly
Is a wan and waefu’ bride,
Singing, O waly! waly!
Through the whole country side;
And a river to wade
For a dying maid,
And a weary way to ride!
O Keith o’ Craigentolly,
The bairn's grave by the sea!
O Keith o’ Craigentolly,
The graves of maidens three!
And a bluidy shift,
And a sainless shrift,
For Keith o’ Craigentolly!