11 'Fair faa ye, my little sister,
A guid dead mat ye die!
An ever I hae goud,
Well tochered sall ye be.'
12 He's awa to Fair Annie,
As fast as gan could he:
'O will ye come to my marriage?
The morn it is to be.'
13 'O I will come to yer marriage,
The morn, gin I can win.'
. . . . . . .
. . . . . . .
14 Annie did her to her father dear,
Fell low down on her knee:
'An askin, my father,
And ye man grant it me;
Lat me to Sweet Willie's marriage,
The morn it is to be.'
15 'Yer horse sall be siller shod afore,
An guid red goud ahin,
An bells in his mane,
To ring against the win.'
16 She did her to her mother dear,
Fell low down on her knee:
'Will ye lat me to Willie's marriage?
The morn it is to be;'
'I'll lat ye to Willie's marriage,
An we the morn see.'
17 Whan Annie was in her saddle set
She flam'd against the fire;
The girdle about her sma middle
Wad a won an earl's hire.
18 Whan they came to Mary kirk,
And on to Mary quire,
'O far gat ye that watter, Ann,
That washes ye sae clear?'
19 'I got it in my father's garden,
Aneth a marbell stane;
. . . . . . .
. . . . . . .
20 'O whar gat ye that water, Annie,
That washes ye sae fite?'
'I gat it in my mother's womb,
Whar ye['s] never get the like.