I fear that her days are dune."
Some drew to them their silken hose,
Some drew to them their shoon,
Some drew to them their silk mantles,
Their coverings to put on;
And they re awa to Fair Janet,
By the high light o' the moon.
"O I have born this babe, Willie,
Wi' mickle toil and pain;
Take hame, take hame, your babe, Willie,