I’m sorry for my comin;
For the night we’ll alight at the bonny Bog o Gight,
Tomorrow tak horse for Lunan.’
15
‘O Thomas, my man, gae after him,
An spier gin I’ll win wi him;’
‘Yes, madam, I hae pleaded for thee,
But a mile ye winna win wi him.’
16
Here and there she ran in care,