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Hermitage

 Strength of Liddesdale

 Guardhouse of the bloodiest valley

 In Elliott lands

 Here it is said

 Are things to be feared

 By all men on this earth

 A certain lonely spot

 Home long ago

 Of a holy man

 In the great wastes of Tarras Moss

 Wicked baron, Lord Soulis

 Practitioner of black magic

 In league with the devil

 Master of dark arts

 Rope could not hold

 Nor steel pierce

 Loathed by his vassals

 In counsel with spirit familiar

 Villages grieve lost innocents

 Lusting near maiden

 Confronted, her father slain

 Enflamed mob dispersed

 By Laird of Mangerton

 At nightfall

 Those grieving deep