"I wot the wild fowls are boding day;
"Give me my faith and troth again,
"And let me fare me on my way."
"Thy faith and troth thou sall na get,
"And our true love sall never twin,
"Until ye tell what comes of women,
"I wot, who die in strong traivelling?"[[B]]
"Their beds are made in the heavens high,
"Down at the foot of our good lord's knee,
"Weel set about wi' gillyflowers: