"Now come, now come, Willie," she said,
"Tak your young son frae me,
And hie him to your mother's bower,
With speed and privacie."
And he is to his mother's bower,45
As fast as he could rin;
"Open, open, my mother dear,
Open, and let me in;
"For the rain rains on my yellow hair,
The dew stands on my chin,50
And I have something in my lap,
And I wad fain be in."
"O go, O go now, sweet Willie,
And make your lady blithe,
For wherever you had ae nourice,55
Your young son shall hae five."—
Out spak Annet's mother dear,
An' she spak a word o' pride;
Says, "Whare is a' our bride's maidens,
They're no busking the bride?"60
"O haud your tongue, my mother dear,
Your speaking let it be,
For I'm sae fair and full o' flesh,
Little busking will serve me."
Out an' spak the bride's maidens,65
They spak a word o' pride;
Says, "Whare is a' the fine cleiding?
Its we maun busk the bride."
"Deal hooly wi' my head, maidens,
Deal hooly wi' my hair,70
For it was washen late yestreen,
And it is wonder sair.
"My maidens, easy wi' my back,
And easy wi' my side;
O set my saddle saft, Willie,75
I am a tender bride."