To Linlyon she did say,
‘Och and alace, a weary nicht!
Oh, but it’s lang till day!’
7
‘Your father’s steed in my stable,
He’s eating corn and hay,
And you’re lying in my twa arms;
What need you long for day?’
8
‘If I had paper, pen, and ink,
To Linlyon she did say,
‘Och and alace, a weary nicht!
Oh, but it’s lang till day!’
7
‘Your father’s steed in my stable,
He’s eating corn and hay,
And you’re lying in my twa arms;
What need you long for day?’
8
‘If I had paper, pen, and ink,