‘No, I will tak’ my mither’s counsel,
And marry me out of hand;
And I will tak’ the nut-brown bride;
Fair Annet may leave the land.’
XVII
Up then rose Fair Annet’s father
Twa hours or it were day,
And he is gone to Fair Annet,
To the bower wherein she lay.
XVIII
‘Rise up, rise up, Fair Annet,’ he says,
‘Put on your silken sheen;
Ye are bidden come to St. Mary’s Kirk,
To see a rich weddin’.’...
XIX
‘My maids, gae to my dressing-room
And dress to me my hair;
Where’er ye laid a plait before
See ye lay ten times mair.
XX
‘My maids gae to my dressing-room
And dress to me my smock,
The one half is o’ the holland fine,
The other o’ needle-work.’