O whan he came to broken briggs,
He bent his bow and swam,
An’ whan he came to the green grass growin’
He slack’d his shoone and ran.
XXIII
O whan he came to Lord William’s gates,
He baed[457] na to chap[458] or ca’,
But set his bent bow till his breast,
An’ lightly lap’ the wa’;
An’, or the porter was at the gate,
The boy was i’ the ha’.
XXIV
‘O is my biggins[459] broken, boy?
Or is my towers won?
Or is my lady lighter yet,
Of a dear daughter or son?’—
XXV
‘Your biggin is na broken, sir,
Nor is your towers won;
But the fairest lady in a’ the land
For you this day maun burn.’—
XXVI
‘O saddle me the black, the black,
Or saddle me the brown;
O saddle me the swiftest steed
That ever rade frae a town!’