‘O room ye round, my bonny brown steeds!
O room ye near the wall!
For this pain that strikes me through my sides
Full soon will gar me fall.’
XLI
She’s lean’d her back against the wall,
Strong travail seized her on;
And even among the great horse’ feet
Burd Ellen brought forth her son.
XLII
And that beheard Childe Waters’ mother,
Sat in her bower alone.
‘Rise up, rise up, Childe Waters,’ she said,
‘Seek neither hose nor shoon!’
XLIII
She said, ‘Rise up, thou Childe Waters,
I think thou’rt a cursèd man;
For yonder’s a ghost in thy stable
That grievously doth groan,
Or else some woman labours of child,
She is so woe-begone.’
XLIV
But up then rose Childe Waters,
Stay’d neither for hose nor shoon,
And he’s doen him to the stable-door
Wi’ the clear light of the moon.