5 I took his body on my back,
And whiles I gaed, and whiles I sate;
I diggd a grave, and laid him in,
And happd him with the sod sae green.
6 But think na ye my heart was sair,
When I laid the moul on his yellow hair?
O think na ye my heart was wae,
When I turnd about, away to gae?
7 Nae living man I'll love again,
Since that my lovely knight is slain;
Wi ae lock of his yellow hair
I'll chain my heart for evermair.
Again, there are six couplets in Johnson's Museum, p. 90, No 89, called, from the burden, 'Oh ono chrio,' which have a little of The Border Widow, and incidentally of The Flower of Serving-Men, winding up with sentiments of transcendent elegance.
Oh was I not a weary wight,
Maid, wife and widow in one night!
When in my soft and yielding arms,
When most I thought him free from harms,
Even at the dead time of the night,
They broke my bower, and slew my knight.
With ae lock of his jet-black hair
I'll tye my heart for ever mair.
Nae sly-tongued youth, or flattering swain,
Shall eer untye this knott again.
Thine still, dear youth, that heart shall be,
Nor pant for aught save heaven and thee.