Falkland Grene Paroles

riding down a forest road.
Knights and ladies come ye well
to be at falkland grene,
to be at falkland grene.
Send your coat of steel my lord,
you could have a winesome favour.
Ride your fair and speak you well,
maybe know a ladys pleasure.
Stuart lord in gold and crimson,
hunt the board and flectfoot tear.
Poet if your lines be true
then come to falkland grene,
come to falkland grene.
Blow cold the winter wind,
whistle you a moanful song.
Jesters words they peated like bells
down below the rims of lomond.
Flew the hawk and watched the court here,
in the gardens were they seen.
In days of wine and madrigar
down at falkland grene,
down at falkland grene.