‘All you that is my maidens winna show me to my bed,
Tho the blankets they be ready, the sheets be comely spread;
I’ll nae lie in your airms till twelve o the day,
An I never will forsake him Young Annochie.’
8
It’s that day they wedded her, an that day she died,
An that day Young Annochie cam in on the tide;
. . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . .
9