28 She had nae turned her throw the dance,
Throw the dance but thrice,
Whan she fell doun at Willie's feet,
And up did never rise.
29 Willie's taen the key of his coffer,
And gien it to his man:
'Gae hame, and tell my mother dear
My horse he has me slain;
Bid her be kind to my young son,
For father he has nane.'
30 The tane was buried in Marie's kirk,
And the tither in Marie's quire;
Out of the tane there grew a birk,
And the tither a bonny brier.
B
Motherwell's MS., p. 357, from the recitation of Agnes Lyle, Kilbarchan.
1 'If you do love me weel, Willie,
Ye'll shew to me truelie;
Ye'll build to me a bonnie ship,
And set her on the sea.'
2 He did love her very weel,
He shewed to her trulie;
He builded her a bonnie ship,
And set her on the sea.
3 They had not sailed one league, one league,
One league but only three,
Till sharp, sharp showers fair Janet took,
She grew sick and like to die.
4 'If you do love me weel, Willie,
Ye'll shew to me trulye;
Ye'll tak me to my mother's bower,
Whare I was wont to be.'