6.
She held his steed in her milk-white hand,
And never shed one tear,
Until that she saw her seven brethren fa’,
And her father hard fighting, who lov’d her so dear.
7.
‘O hold your hand, Lord William!’ she said,
‘For your strokes they are wondrous sair;
True lovers I can get many a ane,
But a father I can never get mair.’