"Gin ye be there, my sweet Sir Hugh,

I pray you to me speak!

She neard Our Lady's deep draw-well,

Was fifty fathom deep:

"Whareer ye be, my sweet Sir Hugh,

I pray you to me speak."

"Gae hame, gae hame, my mither dear,

Prepare my winding sheet,

And at the birks[174] o' merry Lincoln

The morn I will you meet."