I Lay Dying.

I Lay Dying.

Sing to me my darling,

For it shall be the last.

I fought the duke,

Who came to own you,

He'll not harm a hair,

'Pon your pretty head,

Though I'll lay here, dead.

I have loved you truly,

Pretty sweet flower of Scotland.

In your arms I have rejoiced,

And lived the life I dreamed.

You have been the reason,

I fought today in blood,

Remember me whilst I lay dying.