| Were I the morning star
|
| I could never shine so fair
|
| Lady in your sequin gown
|
| Riding on a milk with palfrey
|
| Popinjay and minstrel gaily
|
| Riding down a forest road
|
| Knights and ladies come ye well
|
| To be at Falkland Grene
|
| To be at Falkland Grene
|
| Sand your coat of steel my lord
|
| You could have a winesome favour
|
| Ride you fair and speak you well
|
| Maybe know a ladys pleasure
|
| Stuart lord in gold and crimson
|
| Hunt the boar and fleetfoot deer
|
| Poet if your lines be true
|
| Then come to Falkland Grene
|
| Come to Falkland Grene
|
| Blow cold the winter wind
|
| Whistle you a mournful song
|
| Jesters words they pealed like bells
|
| Down below the rims of Lomond
|
| Flew the hawk and waltzed the courtier
|
| In the gardens were they seen
|
| In days of wine and madrigal
|
| Down at Falkland Grene
|
| Down at Falkland Grene |