‘Fair was thy love! fair, fair indeed thy love!
In flowery bands thou didst him fetter;
Though he was fair, and well-beloved again,
Than me he never loved thee better. 60
‘Busk ye, then, busk, my bonnie, bonnie bride,
Busk ye, busk ye, my winsome marrow,
Busk ye, and lo’e me on the banks of Tweed,
And think nae mair on the braes of Yarrow.’
C. ‘How can I busk, a bonnie, bonnie bride, 65
How can I busk, a winsome marrow?