3 She leapd on a milk-white steed, And he on a dapple-grey; They rode til they came to a fair river's side, Three hours before it was day. 4 'O light, O light, you lady gay, O light with speed, I say, For six knight's daughters have I drowned here, And you the seventh must be.' 5 'Go fetch the sickle, to crop the nettle That grows so near the brim, For fear it should tangle my golden locks, Or freckle my milk-white skin.' 6 He fetchd the sickle, to crop the nettle That grows so near the brim, And with all the strength that pretty Polly had She pushd the false knight in. 7 'Swim on, swim on, thou false knight, And there bewail thy doom, For I don't think thy cloathing too good To lie in a watry tomb.' 8 She leaped on her milk-white steed, She led the dapple grey; She rid till she came to her father's house, Three hours before it was day. 9 'Who knocked so loudly at the ring?' The parrot he did say; 'O where have you been, my pretty Polly, All this long summer's day?' 10 'O hold your tongue, parrot, Tell you no tales of me; Your cage shall be made of beaten gold, Which is now made of a tree.' 11 O then bespoke her father dear, As he on his bed did lay: 'O what is the matter, my parrot, That you speak before it is day?' 12 'The cat's at my cage, master, And sorely frighted me, And I calld down my Polly To take the cat away.' * * * * * #A.# _Burden. Song xix of Forbes's 'Cantus,' Aberdeen, 1682, 3d ed., has, as pointed out by Motherwell, Minstrelsy, p. lx, nearly the same burden: ~The gowans are gay, The first morning of May~. And again, a song in the Tea Table Miscellany, as remarked by Buchan, ~There gowans are gay, The first morning of May~: p. 404 of the 12th ed., London, 1763._ #b.# _No doubt furnished to Motherwell by Buchan, as a considerable number of ballads in this part of his MS. seem to have been._ 3^2. Then in. 8^1. kind sir, said she. 10^2. That we may some rest before I die. 11^1. the near. 13^2. to them ilk ane. _1 is given by Motherwell, Minstrelsy, p. lx, but apparently to improve metre and secure rhyme, thus_: Lady Isabel sits in her bouir sewing, She heard an elf-knight his horn blowing. #B b.# _Buchan's printed copy differs from the manuscript very slightly, except in spelling._ 4^3, 6^3. Aft times hae I. 5^3. And sighing sair says. 7^3, 9^3. And sighing says. 14^2. Till she swam. 14^3. Then thanked. 14^4. she'd. #c.# _Like #A b#, derived by Motherwell from Buchan._