‘Tell her to make me a cambric shirt,
Without any needles or thread, or owt through’t;
And then she shall be a true lover of mine.
8
‘Tell her to wash it by yonder wall,
Where water neer sprung, nor a drop o rain fall;
And then she shall be a true lover of mine.
9
‘Tell her to dry it on yonder thorn,
Where blossom neer grew sin Adam was born;