O I fear ye are poison'd, my jolly young man!"
"O yes! I am poison'd:—mither, mak my bed sune,
For I'm sick at the heart, and I fain wad lie doun."
"What will ye leave to your father, Lord Donald, my son?
What will ye leave to your father, my jolly young man?"
"Baith my houses and land:—mither, mak my bed sune,
For I'm sick at the heart, and I fain wad lie doun."
"What will ye leave to your brither, Lord Donald, my son?
What will ye leave to your brither, my jolly young man?"
"My horse and the saddle:—mither, mak my bed sune,