* * * * *
6 He's powd out a hundred punds,
Weel lockit in a glove;
. . . . . . .
. . . . . . .
7 'I'll hae nane o your gowd,' she said,
'Nor either o your fee;
But I will hae your ain bodie
The king has granted me.'
8 'O was ye gentle gotten, maid?
Or was ye gentle born?
Or hae ye onie gerss growing?
Or hae ye onie corn?
9 'Or hae ye onie lands or rents,
Lying at libertie?
Or hae ye onie education,
To dance alang wi me?'
10 'I was na gentle gotten, madam,
Nor was I gentle born;
Neither hae I gerss growing,
Nor hae I onie corn.
11 'I have na onie lands or rents,
Lying at libertie;
Nor hae I onie education,
To dance alang wi thee.'
12 He lap on ae milk-white steed,
And she lap on anither,
And then the twa rade out the way
Like sister and like brither.
13 And whan she cam to Tyne's water,
She wililie did say,
Fareweil, ye mills o Tyne's water,
With thee I bid gude-day.
14 Fareweil, ye mills o Tyne's water,
To you I bid gud-een,
Whare monie a day I hae filld my pock,
Baith at midnicht and at een.