Sum spiek o' lords, sum spiek o' lairds,
And sic like men of hie degree;
Of a gentleman I sing a sang,
Sumtyne call'd laird of Gilnockie.
The King he writes a kind letter,
Wi' his ain hand sae tenderlie,
And he has sent it to Johnie Armstrang,
To cum and spiek wi' him speedilie.

May I find grace, my sovereign Liege,
Grace for my loyal men and me,
For my name is Johnie Armstrang,
And subject of zour's, my Liege, said he,
Awa', awa', thou traytor strang,
Out of my sicht thou may'st sune be,
I grantit ne'ir a traytor's lyfe,
And now I'll not begin wi' thee.

Farweil my bonnie Gilnock-hall,
Quhair on Esk side thou standest stout;
Gif I had liev'd but seven zeirs mair,
I wou'd haif gilt thee round about;
John murd'red was at Carlingrigg,
And all his gallant companie;
But Scotland's heart was ne'er so wae,
To see sae mony brave men die.