X
‘O out o’ my stythe[127] I winna rise—
And it is na for the fear o’ thee—
Till Kemp Owyne, the kingis son,
Come to the craig an’ thrice kiss me.’
‘O out o’ my stythe[127] I winna rise—
And it is na for the fear o’ thee—
Till Kemp Owyne, the kingis son,
Come to the craig an’ thrice kiss me.’