And thrice he kissd her lovely lips,
And took her frae her horse.
“Gang to your bower, my lily-flower,
For a’ my mother’s spite;
There’s nae other amang her maids,
In whom I take delight.
“Ye are my jewel, and only are,
Nane’s do you injury;
For ere this-day-month come and gang
My wedded wife ye’se be.”