‘I want nane o’ his gowd, I want nane o’ his gear,
I want nae land frae thee;
But I’ll hae the rings that’s on his finger,
For them he did promise to me.’
XVII
‘Ye’se na get the rings that’s on his finger,
Ye’se na get them frae me;
Ye’se na get the rings that’s on his finger,
An’ your heart suld burst in three.’
XVIII
She’s turn’d her back unto the wa’,
And her face unto a rock,
And there, before the mother’s face,
Her very heart it broke.
FOOTNOTES:
[410] roudès = hag-like.