3. The king he had but ae daughter, Burd Isbel was her name; An’ she has to the prison-house gane, To hear the prisoner’s mane. 4. ‘O gin a lady woud borrow me, At her stirrup-foot I woud rin; Or gin a widow wad borrow me, I woud swear to be her son. 5. ‘Or gin a virgin woud borrow me, I woud wed her wi’ a ring; I’d gi’ her ha’s, I’d gie her bowers, The bonny tow’rs o’ Linne.’ 6. O barefoot, barefoot gaed she but, An’ barefoot came she ben; It was no for want o’ hose an’ shoone, Nor time to put them on; 7. But a’ for fear that her father dear, Had heard her making din: She’s stown the keys o’ the prison-house dor An’ latten the prisoner gang. 8. O whan she saw him, Young Bekie, Her heart was wondrous sair! For the mice but an’ the bold rottons Had eaten his yallow hair. 9. She’s gi’en him a shaver for his beard, A comber till his hair, Five hunder pound in his pocket, To spen’, and nae to spair. 10. She’s gi’en him a steed was good in need, An’ a saddle o’ royal bone, A leash o’ hounds o’ ae litter, An’ Hector called one. 11. Atween this twa a vow was made, ’Twas made full solemnly, That or three years was come and gane, Well married they shoud be. 12. He had nae been in’s ain country A twelvemonth till an end, Till he’s forc’d to marry a duke’s daughter, Or than lose a’ his land. 13. ‘Ohon, alas!’ says Young Bekie, ‘I know not what to dee; For I canno win to Burd Isbel, And she kensnae to come to me.’ 14. O it fell once upon a day Burd Isbel fell asleep, An’ up it starts the Belly Blin, An’ stood at her bed-feet. 15. ‘O waken, waken, Burd Isbel, How [can] you sleep so soun’, Whan this is Bekie’s wedding day, An’ the marriage gain’ on? 16. ’Ye do ye to your mither’s bow’r, Think neither sin nor shame; An’ ye tak twa o’ your mither’s marys, To keep ye frae thinking lang. 17. ‘Ye dress yoursel’ in the red scarlet, An’ your marys in dainty green, An’ ye pit girdles about your middles Woud buy an earldome. 18. ‘O ye gang down by yon sea-side, An’ down by yon sea-stran’; Sae bonny will the Hollans boats Come rowin’ till your han’. 19. ‘Ye set your milk-white foot abord, Cry, Hail ye, Domine! An’ I shal be the steerer o’t, To row you o’er the sea.’ 20. She’s tane her till her mither’s bow’r, Thought neither sin nor shame, An’ she took twa o’ her mither’s marys, To keep her frae thinking lang. 21. She dress’d hersel’ i’ the red scarlet. Her marys i’ dainty green, And they pat girdles about their middles Woud buy an earldome. 22. An’ they gid down by yon sea-side, An’ down by yon sea-stran’; Sae bonny did the Hollan boats Come rowin’ to their han’.