"Moss Troopers Lament" by Sir Walter Scott (1771-1832)

"Oh! a' ye gallant Borders!
Ilk water, moss and fell,
To a' your weel kent nooks and crooks,
Forever, Oh! Farewell!
For we'll go no more a roving,
A roving in the night,
We'll go no more a roving,
Though the moon shine e'er so bright.
O we'll go no more a roving!

"Oh when the Har'est moon shone
What blithe times did we see!
On wanton naigs, wi splent on spauld,
We rade sae merrilie!
But we'll go no more a roving,
A roving in the night,
We'll go no more a roving,
Though the moon shine e'er so bright.
O we'll go no more a roving!

"Our King's gone o'er the Border
In London for to dwell;
And friends we maun wi' England be,
Sin' he reigns there himsel:
And go no more a roving,
A roving in the night,
We'll go no more a roving,
Though the moon shine e'er so bright.
O we'll go no more a roving!

"O how shall I, tether'd,
On Yarrow banks abide!
That far as Trent and Humber
Hae scour'd the Southrons wide.
Oh! To go no more a roving,
A roving in the night,
We'll go no more a roving,
Though the moon shine e'er so bright.
O we'll go no more a roving!

"And how shall I follow
A droning plough's tail,
And how now break my bonnie Brown
To hart'l like a snail!
And go no more a roving,
A roving in the night,
We'll go no more a roving,
Though the moon shine e'er so bright.
O we'll go no more a roving!

"But when the blithsome Borders
Hae lost their riders gay,
The Scots will miss their hardy men,
And cry, Alack the day!
That they go no more a roving,
A roving in the night,
They go no more a roving,
Though the moon shine e'er so bright.
O they'll go no more a roving!"