“O rede, O rede, mither,” he says, “A gude rede gie to mee; O sall I tak the nut-browne bride, And let Faire Annet bee?” “The nut-browne bride haes gowd and gear, Fair Annet she has gat nane; And the little beauty Fair Annet haes O it wull soon be gane.” And he has till his brother gane: “Now, brother, rede ye mee; A, sall I marrie the nut-browne bride, And let Fair Annet bee?” “The nut-browne bride has oxen, brother, The nut-browne bride has kye; I wad hae ye marrie the nut-browne bride, And cast Fair Annet bye.” “Her oxen may dye i’ the house, billie, And her kye into the byre; And I sall hae nothing to mysell Bot a fat fadge by the fyre.” And he has till his sister gane: “Now, sister, rede ye mee; O sall I marrie the nut-browne bride, And set Fair Annet free?” “I’se rede ye tak Fair Annet, Thomas, And let the browne bride alane; Lest ye sould sigh, and say, Alace, What is this we brought hame!” “No, I will tak my mither’s counsel, And marrie me owt o hand; And I will tak the nut-browne bride, Fair Annet may leive the land.” Up then rose Fair Annet’s father, Twa hours or it wer day, And he is gane unto the bower Wherein Fair Annet lay. “Rise up, rise up, Fair Annet,” he says “Put on your silken sheene; Let us gae to St. Marie’s Kirke, And see that rich weddeen.” “My maides, gae to my dressing-roome, And dress to me my hair; Whaireir yee laid a plait before, See yee lay ten times mair. “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.” The horse Fair Annet rade upon, He amblit like the wind; Wi siller he was shod before, Wi burning gowd behind. Four and twanty siller bells Wer a’ tyed till his mane, And yae tift o the norland wind, They tinkled ane by ane. Four and twanty gay gude knichts Rade by Fair Annet’s side, And four and twanty fair ladies, As gin she had bin a bride. And whan she cam to Marie’s Kirk, She sat on Marie’s stean: The cleading that Fair Annet had on It skinkled in their een. And whan she cam into the kirk, She shimmerd like the sun; The belt that was about her waist Was a’ wi pearles bedone. She sat her by the nut-browne bride, And her een they wer sae clear, Lord Thomas he clean forgat the bride, When Fair Annet drew near. He had a rose into his hand, He gae it kisses three, And reaching by the nut-browne bride, Laid it on Fair Annet’s knee. Up then spak the nut-browne bride, She spak wi meikle spite: “And whair gat ye that rose-water, That does mak yee sae white?”