‘But alas, alas!’ says Lord Thomas,
‘O fair is Annet’s face!’—
‘But what matter for that, son Thomas?
She has nae ither grace.’—
XII
‘Alas, alas!’ says Lord Thomas,
‘But white is Annet’s hand!’—
‘What matter for that, son Thomas?
She has not a fur’[378] o’ land.’—
XIII
‘Sheep will die in cots, mither,
And owsen[379] die in byre;
And what is warldis wealth to me,
An’ I getna my heart’s desire?’
XIV
And he has till his sister gane:
‘Now, sister, rede ye me;
O sall I marry the nut-brown bride
And set Fair Annet free?’—
XV
‘I’se rede ye tak’ Fair Annet, Thomas,
And let the brown bride alane,
Lest ye should sigh and say Alas!
What is this we brought hame?’—