When Rose the Red and White Lilly Saw their twa loves were gane, Then stoppit ha’ they their loud, loud sang For and the still mournin’: And their step-mither stood forbye, To hear the maiden’s mane[391]. XIII Then out it spake her White Lilly: ‘My sister, we’ll be gane; Why should we stay in Burnèsdale To waste our youth in pain?’ XIV Then cuttit ha’ they their green clothing A little below their knee, And sae ha’ they their yellow hair A little abune their bree[392]; And they’re do’en them to haly chapel, Was christen’d by Our Ladye. XV There ha’ they changed their ain twa names, Sae far frae ony town; And the tane o’ them hight[393] Sweet Willy, And the tither Roge the Roun[394]. XVI Between this twa a vow was made, And they sware it to fulfil; That at three blasts o’ a bugle-horn She’d come her sister till. XVII Now Sweet Willy’s gane to the Kingis court, Her true-love there to see, And Roge the Roun to good green-wood, Brown Robin’s man to be. XVIII As it fell out upon a day They a’ did put the stane, Fu’ seven feet ayont them a’ She gar’d the puttin’-stane gang. XIX She lean’d her back against an oak, And ga’e a loud Ohone! Then out it spake him Brown Robin, ‘But that’s a woman’s moan!’ XX ‘O ken ye by my red rose lip? Or by my yallow hair? Or ken ye by my milk-white breast? For ye never saw it bare.’ XXI ‘I ken no by your red rose lip, Nor by your yallow hair; Nor ken I by your milk-white breast, For I never saw it bare; But come to your bow’r whaever sae likes Will find a lady there.’ XXII About the tenth hour of the night The lady’s bow’r-door was broken; And ere the first hour of the night The bonny knave-bairn[395] was gotten. XXIII When days were gane, and months were run, Rose the Red took travailing; And sair she cried for a bow’r-woman, Her pine[396] to wait upon. XXIV Then out it spake him Brown Robin: ‘Now what needs a’ this din? For what cou’d any woman do But I cou’d do the same?’-- XXV ‘It was never my mither’s fashion, Nor sall it e’er be mine, That belted Knights shou’d e’er stand by Where ladies dreed[397] their pine. XXVI ‘But tak’ ye up my bugle-horn, And blaw three blasts for me; I’ve a brither in the Kingis court Will come me quickly ti’.’-- XXVII ‘O gin ye hae a brither on earth That ye love better nor me, Ye blaw the horn yoursel’,’ he says, ‘For ae blast I’ll not gie.’ XXVIII She set the horn untill her mouth, And blawn three blasts sae shrill; Sweet Willy heard i’ the Kingis court, And came her quickly till.... XXIX