Till he came to the chin;
And he rade in, and farther in,
Till he came to dry land.
And when he came to his love's gates,
He tirled at the pin.
"Open your gates, Meggie,
Open your gates to me;
For my boots are fu' o' Clyde's water
And the rain rains ower my chin."
"I hae nae lovers thereout," she says,