20 'Win up, win up noo, Fair Margaret,
An see that my steed has meat;
See that his corn is in his travisse,
Nor lyin amang his feet.'
21 Slowly, slowly rase she up,
An slowly put she on,
An slowly gaed she doon the stair,
Aye makin a heavy moan.
* * * * *
22 'An asken, an asken, gude Lord John,
I pray you grant it me;
For the warst bed in a' your hoose,
To your young son an me.'
23 'Your asken is but sma, Margaret,
Sune grantet it shall be;
For the best bed in a' my hoose
Is owre little for thee.'
24 'An asken, an asken, gude Lord John,
I pray you grant it me;
For the warst ale in a' your hoose,
That ye wald gie to me.'
25 'Your asken is but sma, Margaret,
Sune grantet it sall be;
For the best wine in a' my hoose
Is owre little for thee.
26 'But cheer up your heart noo, Fair Margaret,
For, be it as it may,
Your kirken an your fair weddin
Sall baith be on one day.'
F
Jamieson's Popular Ballads, I, 114, from Mrs Arrot of Arberbrothick.