Dear Willie, tell to me?’
‘I’ll saddle my steed, and awa’ I’ll ride
To dwell in some far countrie.’ 75
‘O when will ye come hame again,
Dear Willie, tell to me?’
‘When the sun and mune dance on yon green,
And that will never be.’
She turned hersel’ right round about, 80
And her heart burst into three:
‘My ae best son is deid and gane,