"Ye bid him bake his bridal bread,
And brew his bridal ale;
And I'll meet him in fair Scotland,
Lang, lang ere it be stale."
She's doen to her father dear,
Fa'en low down on her knee:
"A boon, a boon, my father dear,
I pray you, grant it me."
"Ask on, ask on, my daughter,
An granted it shall be;