‘But again, dear love, and again, dear love, Will ye ne’er love me again? Alas, for loving you sae well, And you nae me again!’ IX The firstan town that they cam’ till, He bought her brooch and ring; And aye he bade her turn again, And nae farther gang wi’ him. X ‘But again, dear love, and again, dear love, Will ye ne’er love me again? Alas, for loving you sae well, And you nae me again!’ XI The nextan town that they cam’ till, He bought her muff and gloves; But aye he bade her turn again, And choose some other loves. XII ‘But again, dear love, and again, dear love, Will ye ne’er love me again? Alas, for loving you sae well, And you nae me again!’ XIII The nextan town that they cam’ till, His heart it grew mair fain, And he was as deep in love wi’ her As she was ower again. XIV The nextan town that they cam’ till, He bought her wedding gown, And made her lady of ha’s and bowers, Into sweet Berwick town. _73. Lady Maisry_ I The young lords o’ the north country Have all a-wooing gone, To win the love of Lady Maisry, But o’ them she wou’d hae none. II O they hae courted Lady Maisry Wi’ a’ kin kind of things; An’ they hae sought her Lady Maisry Wi’ brooches an’ wi’ rings. III An’ they ha’ sought her Lady Maisry Frae father and frae mother; An’ they ha’ sought her Lady Maisry Frae sister an’ frae brother. IV An’ they ha’ follow’d her Lady Maisry Thro’ chamber an’ thro’ ha’; But a’ that they cou’d say to her, Her answer still was Na. V ‘O haud your tongues, young men,’ she says, ‘An’ think nae mair o’ me; For I’ve gi’en my love to an English lord, An’ think nae mair o’ me.’ VI Her father’s kitchy-boy heard that, An ill death may he dee! An’ he is on to her brother, As fast as gang cou’d he. VII ‘O is my father an’ my mother well, But an’ my brothers three? Gin my sister Lady Maisry be well, There’s naething can ail me.’-- VIII ‘Your father an’ your mother is well, But an’ your brothers three; Your sister Lady Maisry’s well, So big wi’ bairn gangs she.’ IX ‘Gin this be true you tell to me, My malison light on thee! But gin it be a lie you tell, You sal be hangit hie.’ X He’s done him to his sister’s bow’r, Wi’ meikle doole an’ care; An’ there he saw her Lady Maisry Kaiming her yellow hair. XI ‘O wha is aught[455] that bairn,’ he says, ‘That ye sae big are wi’? And gin ye winna own the truth, This moment ye sall dee.’ XII She turn’d her right and roun’ about, An’ the kame fell frae her han’; A trembling seiz’d her fair body, An’ her rosy cheek grew wan. XIII