"And hey, Annie, and how, Annie!125
O Annie, winna ye bide!"
But aye the mair he cried Annie,
The braider grew the tide.
"And hey, Annie, and how, Annie!
Dear Annie, speak to me!"130
But aye the louder he cried Annie,
The louder roar'd the sea.
The wind blew loud, the sea grew rough,
And dash'd the boat on shore;
Fair Annie floated through the faem,135
But the babie rose no more.
Lord Gregory tore his yellow hair,
And made a heavy moan;
Fair Annie's corpse lay at his feet,
Her bonny young son was gone.140
O cherry, cherry was her cheek,
And gowden was her hair;
But clay-cold were her rosy lips—
Nae spark o' life was there.
And first he kiss'd her cherry cheek,145
And syne he kiss'd her chin,
And syne he kiss'd her rosy lips—
There was nae breath within.
"O wae betide my cruel mother!
An ill death may she die!150
She turn'd my true love frae my door,
Wha came sae far to me.
"O wae betide my cruel mother!
An ill death may she die!
She turn'd fair Annie frae my door,155
Wha died for love o' me."