5 He did love her very weel,
He shewed to her trulye;
He took her to her mother's bower,
Whare she was wont to be.
6 'It's ye'll stand up at my richt side,
You will on tiptaes stand,
Until you hear your auld son weep,
But an your Janet mourn.
7 'Come take your auld son in your arms,
He is both large and lang;
Come take your auld son in your arms,
And for a nourice gang.'
8 He is to his mother's bowers,
An hour or it struck nine:
'I have a babe into my arms,
He'll die for nouricing.'
9 'Goe home, go home, my son,' she says,
'And mak thy Jenny blythe;
If ae nurse winna sere her son,
It's I'll provide him five.'
10 Fair Janet was nae weel lichter,
Nor weel doun on her side,
Till ben and cam her father dear,
Saying, Wha will busk our bride?
11 Ben and cam her brethren dear,
Saying, Wha will busk our bride?
And wha will saddle our bride's horse?
Whom ahint will she ride?
12 'Hold your tongue, my brethren dear,
And let your folly be,
For I'm sae fair and full of hair
Sma busking will serve me.
13 'Hold your tongue, my brethren dear,
And let your folly be,
For I will ride behint William,
He will best wait on me.
14 'Willie, lay the saddle saft,
And lead the bridle soun,
And when we come to Mary's Kirk,
Ye'll set me hooly down.'