7
'O mother dear, when I was thine,
You did na prove to me sae kind.'
* * * * *
C.
Motherwell's Minstrelsy, p. 161.
1
She leaned her back unto a thorn,
Three, three, and three by three
And there she has her two babes born.
Three, three, and thirty-three
2
She took frae 'bout her ribbon-belt,
And there she bound them hand and foot.
3
She has taen out her wee pen-knife,
And there she ended baith their life.
4
She has howked a hole baith deep and wide,
She has put them in baith side by side.
5
She has covered them oer wi a marble stane,
Thinking she would gang maiden hame.
6
As she was walking by her father's castle wa,
She saw twa pretty babes playing at the ba.