7
'Deep and drowsy was the sleep
On my poor body fell;
By came the Queen of Faery,
Made me with her to dwell.
8
'But the morn at een is Halloween,
Our fairy foks a' do ride;
And she that will her true-love win,
At Blackstock she must bide.
9
'First let by the black,' he said,
'And syne let by the brown;
But when you see the milk-white steed,
You'll pull his rider down.
10
'You'll pull him into thy arms,
Let his bricht bridle fa,
And he'll fa low into your arms
Like stone in castle's wa.
11
'They'll first shape him into your arms
An adder or a snake;
But hold him fast, let him not go,
He'll be your world's make.
12
'They'll next shape him into your arms
Like a wood black dog to bite;
Hold him fast, let him not go,
For he'll be your heart's delight.
13
'They'll next shape [him] into your arms
Like a red-het gaud o airn;
But hold him fast, let him not go,
He's the father o your bairn.
14
'They'll next shape him into your arms
Like the laidliest worm of Ind;
But hold him fast, let him not go,
And cry aye "Young Tamlin."'
* * * * *
15
Lady Margaret first let by the black,
And syne let by the brown,
But when she saw the milk-white steed
She pulled the rider down.