‘I lo’e Brown Adam well,’ she says,
‘An’ I ken sae does he me;
An’ I wadna be your light leman
For mair nor ye could gie.’
XIII
Then out he drew his lang, lang bran’,
And he’s flash’d it in her e’en:
‘Now grant me love for love, lady,
Or thro’ you this sall gang.’—
XIV
‘O,’ sighing said that gay ladye,
‘Brown Adam tarries lang!’—
Then up and starts him Brown Adam,
Says, ‘I’m just to your hand.’
XV
He’s gar’d him leave his bow, his bow,
He’s gar’d him leave his brand;
He’s gar’d him leave a better pledge—
Four fingers o’ his right hand.
FOOTNOTES:
[350] biggit = built.
[351] breer = briar.