And dull and drowsy was his een.
She thought it had been a loathsome sweat,
I wot it had fallen these twa between;
But it was the blood of his fair body,
I wot his life-days were na lang.
O Saunders, I'll do for your sake
What other ladies would na thole;
When seven years is come and gone,
There's ne'er a shoe go on my sole.
O Saunders, I'll do for your sake