. . . . so frank and so free,
. . . and I get na Glenlogie, I’ll die.’
5
‘O bonnie Jeanie, your portion’s but sma
To lay your love on me, that’s promist awa.’
6
Her cherry cheeks grew pale an wan; with the tear in her ee,
‘Gin I get na Glenlogie, I surely will die.’
7
Ben came her father, steps to her bowr: