For I'm sick at the heart, and I fain wad lie doun."
"Where gat ye the fishes, Lord Donald, my son?
Where gat ye the fishes, my jolly young man? ''
"In my fathers black ditches:—mither, mak my bed sune,
For I'm sick at the heart, and I fain would lie doun."
"What like were your fishes, Lord Donald, my son?
What like were your fishes, my jolly young man?"
"Black backs and speckl'd bellies:—mither, mak my bed sune,
For I'm sick at the heart, and I fain would lie doun."
"O I fear ye are poison'd, Lord Donald, my son!