18
'But she shall die and turn to clay,
And ye shall wed another may.'
19
'Another may I['ll] never wed,
Another may I['ll] neer bring hame.'
20
But sighing said that weary wight,
'I wish my life were at an end.'
21
'Ye doe [ye] unto your mother again,
That vile rank witch of vilest kind.
22
'And say your ladie has a girdle,
It's red gowd unto the middle.
23
'And ay at every silver hem,
Hangs fifty silver bells and ten.
24
'That goodlie gift has be her ain,
And let me be lighter of my young bairn.'
25
'O her young bairn she's neer be lighter,
Nor in her bower to shine the brighter.
26
'But she shall die and turn to clay,
And you shall wed another may.'
27
'Another may I'll never wed,
Another may I'll neer bring hame.'