‘Get up, get up, lady mother,’ he says,
‘Get up, and let me in!
Get up, get up, lady mother,’ he says,
‘For this night my fair lady I’ve win.
XVI
‘O mak my bed, lady mother,’ he says,
‘O mak it braid and deep,
And lay Lady Margret close at my back,
And the sounder I will sleep.’
XVII
Lord William was dead lang ere midnight,
Lady Margret lang ere day,
And all true lovers that go thegither,
May they have mair luck than they!
XVIII
Lord William was buried in St. Mary’s kirk,
Lady Margret in Mary’s quire;
Out o’ the lady’s grave grew a bonny red rose,
And out o’ the knight’s a brier.
XIX
And they twa met, and they twa plat[285],
And fain they wad be near;
And a’ the warld might ken right weel
They were twa lovers dear.