The night was dark, an the win blew caul,
An her love was fast asleep,
An the bairn that was in her twa arms
Fu sair began to weep.
Long stood she at her true-love’s door,
An lang tirld at the pin;
At length up gat his fa’se mither,
Says, “Wha’s that woud be in?”
“O it is Anny of Roch-royal,
Your love, come oer the sea,