19 Syne up and spak her nexten brother,
And the tear stood in his ee:
'You've loed her lang, and loed her weel,
And pity it wad be
The sword that hangs at my sword-belt
Shoud ever sinder ye.'
20 But up and spak her fifthen brother:
'Sleep on your sleep for me;
But we baith sall never sleep again,
For the tane o us sall die.'
21 And up and spak her thirden brother,
Ay in ill time spak he:
'Curse on his love and comeliness!
Dishonourd as ye be,
The sword that hangs at my sword-belt
Sall quickly sinder ye.'
22 The eldest brother has drawn his sword,
The second has drawn anither,
Between Clerk Saunders' hause and collar-bane
The cald iron met thegither.
23 'O wae be to you, my fause brethren,
And an ill death mat ye die!
Ye mith slain Clerk Saunders in open field,
And no in bed wi me.'
G
Buchan's Ballads of the North of Scotland, I, 160.
1 Clerk Sandy and a lady gay
Where walking in the garden green,
And great and heavy was the love
That hae befa'en these twa between.
2 'A bed, a bed,' said Clerk Sandy,
'A bed, my love, for you and me;'
'O never a foot,' said the lady gay,
'Till ance that we twa married be.
3 'My seven brithers will come in,
And a' their torches burning bright;
They'll say, We hae but ae sister,
And here she's lying wi a knight.'