Up than spak the nut-browne bride,
She spak wi' meikle spite;90
"And whair gat ye that rose-water,
That does mak yee sae white?"
"O I did get the rose-water
Whair ye wull neir get nane,
For I did get that very rose-water95
Into my mithers wame."
The bride she drew a long bodkin
Frae out her gay head-gear,
And strake fair Annet unto the heart,
That word she nevir spak mair.100
Lord Thomas he saw fair Annet wex pale,
And marvelit what mote bee:
But whan he saw her dear hearts blude,
A' wood-wroth wexed hee.
He drew his dagger, that was sae sharp,105
That was sae sharp and meet,
And drave into the nut-browne bride,
That fell deid at his feit.
"Now stay for me, dear Annet," he sed,
"Now stay, my dear," he cry'd;110
Then strake the dagger untill his heart,
And fell deid by her side.
Lord Thomas was buried without kirk-wa',
Fair Annet within the quiere;
And o' the tane thair grew a birk,115
The other a bonny briere.
And ay they grew, and ay they threw,
As they wad faine be neare;
And by this ye may ken right weil,
They were twa luvers deare.120