7
When he came to his own bower-door,
He tirled at the pin:
‘Sleep ye, wake ye, my gay lady,
Ye’ll let your gude lord in.’
8
Huly, huly raise she up,
And slowly put she on,
And slowly came she to the door;
She was a weary woman.
7
When he came to his own bower-door,
He tirled at the pin:
‘Sleep ye, wake ye, my gay lady,
Ye’ll let your gude lord in.’
8
Huly, huly raise she up,
And slowly put she on,
And slowly came she to the door;
She was a weary woman.