204. Your fair bodie was mine.
213, 4. For there's four and twenty belted knights
Just gone out at the gate.
221. had a wee penknife.
223, 4.
And he ritted it through his dear ladie,
And wounded her sae sair.
25. How can I live, my dear Johnstone?
How can I live for thee?
O do ye na see my red heart's blood
Run trickling down my knee?
26. But go thy way, my dear Johnstone,
And ride along the plain,
And think no more of thy true love
Than she had never been.
27. wanting.
C.
191. Oh.
251. O: the first.