“The water is waxing deeper still, Sae does it wax mair wide; And aye the farther that we ride on, Farther off is the other side. “O help me now, thou false, false knight, Have pity on my youth, For now the water jawes owre my head, And it gurgles in my mouth.” The knight turned right and round about, All in the middle stream; And he stretched out his head to that lady, But loudly she did scream. “O this is hallow-morn,” he said, “And it is your bridal-day, But sad would be that gay wedding, If bridegroom and bride were away. “And ride on, ride on, proud Margaret! Till the water comes o’er your bree, For the bride maun ride deep, and deeper yet, Wha rides this ford wi’ me. “Turn round, turn round, proud Margaret! Turn ye round, and look on me, Thou hast killed a true knight under trust, And his ghost now links on with thee.” ROSE THE RED AND WHITE LILY (_Child_, Part IV.) O ROSE the Red and White Lilly, Their mother dear was dead, And their father married an ill woman, Wishd them twa little guede. Yet she had twa as fu fair sons As eer brake manis bread, And the tane of them loed her White Lilly, And the tither lood Rose the Red. O, biggit ha they a bigly bowr, And strawn it oer wi san, And there was mair mirth i the ladies’ bowr Than in a’ their father’s lan. But out it spake their step-mother, Wha stood a little foreby: “I hope to live and play the prank Sal gar your loud sang ly.” She’s calld upon her eldest son: “Come here, my son, to me; It fears me sair, my eldest son, That ye maun sail the sea.” “Gin it fear you sair, my mither dear, Your bidding I maun dee; But be never war to Rose the Red Than ye ha been to me.” “O had your tongue, my eldest son, For sma sal be her part; You’ll nae get a kiss o her comely mouth Gin your very fair heart should break.” She’s calld upon her youngest son: “Come here, my son, to me; It fears me sair, my youngest son, That ye maun sail the sea.” “Gin it fear you sair, my mither dear, Your bidding I maun dee; But be never war to White Lilly Than ye ha been to me.” “O haud your tongue, my youngest son, For sma sall be her part; You’ll neer get a kiss o her comely mouth Tho your very fair heart should break.” When Rose the Red and White Lilly Saw their twa loves were gane, Then stopped ha they their loud, loud sang, And tane up the still moarnin; And their step-mother stood listnin by, To hear the ladies’ mean. Then out it spake her, White Lily; “My sister, we’ll be gane; Why shou’d we stay in Barnsdale, To waste our youth in pain?”