‘You’re the likest to my ae brither
That ever I hae seen;
But he’s buried in Dunfermline kirk
A month an’ mair bygane.’—
V
‘I’m the likest to your ae brither
That ever ye did see;
But I canna get rest in my grave,
A’ for the pride o’ thee.
VI
‘Leave pride, Margret, leave pride, Margret,
Leave pride an’ vanity;
Cou’d ye see the sights that I hae seen
Sair warnèd ye wou’d be.
VII
‘For the wee worms are my bedfellows,
An’ cauld clay is my sheets,
An’ when the stormy winds do blow
My body lies and sleeps.
VIII
‘O ye come in at the kirk-door
Wi’ the red gowd on your crown;
But when you come where I have been,
You’ll wear it laigher[217] down.