That lonesome lodge thou’lt never spend;
For when all the world doth frown on thee,
Thou there shalt find a faithful friend.’
. . . . . . .
Away then hyed the heire of Linne
O’er hill and holt, and moore and fenne,
Untill he came to the lonesome lodge,
That stood so lowe in a lonely glenne.
. . . . . . .
Then round his necke the corde he drewe,