And pale, pale, grew her rosy cheek, That was sae bright of blee, And she seem'd to be as surely dead As any one could be. Then spake her cruel step-minnie, 105 "Tak ye the burning lead, And drap a drap on her bosome, To try if she be dead." They took a drap o' boiling lead, They drapp'd it on her breast; 110 "Alas! alas!" her father cried, "She's dead without the priest." She neither chatter'd with her teeth, Nor shiver'd with her chin; "Alas! alas!" her father cried, 115 "There is nae breath within." Then up arose her seven brethren, And hew'd to her a bier; They hew'd it frae the solid aik, Laid it o'er wi' silver clear. 120 Then up and gat her seven sisters, And sewed to her a kell; And every steek that they put in Sewed to a siller bell. The first Scots kirk that they cam to, 125 They garr'd the bells be rung; The next Scots kirk that they cam to, They garr'd the mass be sung. But when they cam to St. Mary's kirk, There stude spearmen all on a raw; 130 And up and started Lord William, The chieftane amang them a.' "Set down, set down the bier," he said, "Let me look her upon:" But as soon as Lord William touch'd her hand, Her colour began to come. 136 She brightened like the lily flower, Till her pale colour was gone; With rosy cheek, and ruby lip, She smiled her love upon. 140 "A morsel of your bread, my lord, And one glass of your wine; For I hae fasted these three lang days, All for your sake and mine.-- "Gae hame, gae hame, my seven bauld brothers, Gae hame and blaw your horn! 146 I trow ye wad hae gi'en me the skaith, But I've gi'en you the scorn. "Commend me to my grey father, That wished my saul gude rest; 150 But wae be to my cruel step-dame, Garr'd burn me on the breast."-- "Ah! woe to you, you light woman! An ill death may ye die! For we left father and sisters at hame 155 Breaking their hearts for thee."