24.2 ‘lilly lee,’ lovely lea.
‘Gin my seven sons were seven young hares,
Running o’er yon lilly lee,
And I were a grew hound mysell,
Soon worried they a’ should be.’
25.
And wae and sad Fair Annie sat,
And drearie was her sang,
And ever, as she sobb’d and grat,
‘Wae to the man that did the wrang!’