14 Then they lay there in ither's arms
Until the day began to daw;
Then kindly to him she did say,
'It's time, my dear, ye were awa.
15 'Ye are the sleepiest young man,' she said,
'That ever my twa een did see;
Ye've lain a' nicht into my arms,
I'm sure it is a shame to be.'
16 She turnd the blankets to the foot,
And turnd the sheets unto the wa,
And there she saw his bluidy wound,
. . . . . . .
17 'O wae be to my seventhen brother,
I wat an ill death mot he dee!
He's killd Clerk Saunders, an earl's son,
I wat he's killd him unto me.'
18 Then in and cam her father dear,
Cannie cam he steppin in;
Says, Haud your tongue, my dochter dear,
What need you mak sic heavy meane?
19 'We'll carry Clerk Saunders to his grave,
And syne come back and comfort thee:'
'O comfort weel your seven sons, father,
For man sall never comfort me;
Ye'll marrie me wi the Queen o Heaven,
For man sall never enjoy me.'
D
Motherwell's MS., p. 196, from the recitation of Mrs Thomson.
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