‘There’s fey[197] folk in our ship, she winna sail for me, There’s fey folk in our ship, she winna sail [ony].’ VIII They’ve castin’ black bullets twice six and forty, And ae the black bullet fell on bonnie Annie. IX ‘Ye’ll tak me in your arms twa, lo, lift me cannie, Throw me out owre-board, your ain dear Annie.’ X He has ta’en her in his arms twa, lo, lifted her cannie, He has laid her on a bed of down, his ain dear Annie. XI ‘What can a woman do, love, I’ll do for ye:’ ‘Muckle can a woman do, ye canna do for me.’ XII ‘Lay about, steer about, lay our ship cannie, Do all ye can to save my dear Annie.’ XIII ‘I’ve laid about, steer’d about, laid about cannie, Our ship’s on a sand-bank, she winna sail [ony]-- XIV ‘Ye’ll take her in your arms twa, lo, lift her cannie, And throw her out owre-board, your ain dear Annie.’ XV He has ta’en her in his arms twa, lo, lifted her cannie, He has thrown her out owre-board, his ain dear Annie. XVI [The corse it did float, the ship it did follow] Until that they came to the high banks o’ Yarrow[198]. XVII ‘O I’d bury my love on the high banks o’ Yarrow, But the wood it is dear, and the planks they are narrow.’ XVIII He made his love a coffin o’ the gowd sae yellow, And buried his bonnie love doun in a sea valley. FOOTNOTES: [196] cannie = gently. [197] fey = destined to die. [198] Yarrow =? Jarrow. _21. Brown Robyn’s Confession_ I It fell upon a Wadensday Brown Robyn’s men went to sea; But they saw neither moon nor sun Nor starlight wi’ their e’e. II ‘We’ll cast kevels[199] us amang; See wha the man may be.’-- The kevel fell on Brown Robyn, The master-man was he. III ‘It is nae wonder,’ said Brown Robyn, ‘Altho’ I dinna thrive; [For at hame I murder’d my ain father-- I would he were on live.] IV ‘But tie me to a plank o’ wude, And throw me in the sea; And if I sink, ye may bid me sink, But if I swim, let be.’ V They’ve tied him to a plank o’ wude And thrown him in the sea; He didna sink, tho’ they bade him sink, He swim’d, and they bade let be. VI He hadna been into the sea An hour but barely three, Till by it came Our Blessed Ladie Her dear young son her wi’. VII ‘Will ye gang to your men again, Or will ye gang wi’ me? Will ye gang to the high heavens Wi’ my dear son and me?’-- VIII ‘I winna gang to my men again, For they would be fear’d at me; But I would gang to the high heavens, Wi’ thy dear son and thee.’ IX ‘It’s for nae honour ye did, Brown Robyn, It’s for nae gude ye did to me; But a’ is for your fair confession You’ve made upon the sea.’ FOOTNOTES: [199] kevels = lots. _22. The Cruel Mother_