Part 18 (1/2)
He saw his young son in her arms, Baith toss'd abune the tide; He wrang his hands, and fast he ran, And plunged in the sea sae wide.
He catch'd her by the yellow hair, And drew her to the strand; But cauld and stiff was every limb, Afore he reach'd the land.
O first he kiss'd her cherry cheek, And syne he kiss'd her chin, And sair he kiss'd her bonny lips, But there was nae breath within.
And he has mourn'd o'er fair Annie, Till the sun was ganging down, Syne wi' a sigh his heart it brast, And his soul to heaven has flown.
LORD THOMAS AND FAIR ANNET.
Lord Thomas and fair Annet Sat a' day on a hill, When night was come, and the sun was set, They had na talk'd their fill.
Lord Thomas said a word in jest, Fair Annet took it ill; ”O I will never wed a wife, Against my ain friends' will”
”Gif ye will never wed a wife, A wife will ne'er wed ye.”
Sae he is hame to tell his mither, And kneel'd upon his knee.
”O rede, O rede, mither,” he says, ”A gude rede gie to me; O sall I tak' the nut-brown bride, And let fair Annet be?”
”The nut-brown bride has gowd and gear, Fair Annet she's gat nane, And the little beauty fair Annet has, O it will soon be gane.”
And he has to his brither gane; ”Now, brither, rede ye me, O sall I marry the nut-brown bride, And let fair Annet be?”
”The nut-brown bride has owsen, brither, The nut-brown bride has kye; I wad hae you marry the nut-brown bride, And cast fair Annet by.”
”Her owsen may dee in the house, billie, And her kye into the byre, And I sall hae naething to mysel, But a fat fadge by the fire.”
And he has to his sister gane; ”Now, sister, rede to me; O sall I marry the nut-brown bride, And set fair Annet free?”
”I'se rede ye tak' fair Annet, Thomas, And let the brown bride alane, Lest ye sould sigh, and say, Alace, What is this we brought hame?”
”No! I will tak' my mither's counsel, And marry me out o' hand; And I will tak' the nut-brown bride, Fair Annet may leave the land.”
Up then rose fair Annet's father, Twa hours or it were day, And he has gane into the bower, Wherein fair Annet lay.
”Rise up, rise up, fair Annet,” he says, ”Put on your silken sheen, Let us gae to Saint Marie's kirk, And see that rich weddin'.”
”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.
”My maids, gae to my dressing-room And dress to me my smock, The ae half is o' the holland fine, The ither o' needle-work.”
The horse fair Annet rade upon, He amblit like the wind, Wi' siller he was shod before, Wi' burning gowd behind.
Four-and-twenty siller bells, Were a' tied to his mane, Wi' ae tift o' the norlan' wind, They tinkled ane by ane.
Four-and-twenty gay gude knights, Rade by fair Annet's side, And four-and-twenty fair ladies, As gin she had been a bride.
And when she cam' to Marie's kirk, She sat on Marie's stane; The cleiding that fair Annet had on, It skinkled in their e'en.