‘O I hae dream’d a dream, mither, The thought o’t gars me greet! That fair Annie of Lochroyan Lay dead at my bed-feet.’-- XXXIX ‘Gin it be for Annie of Lochroyan That ye mak a’ this mane, She stood last night at your bower-door, But I hae sent her hame.’-- XL ‘O wae betide ye, ill woman, An ill death may ye die! That wadna open the door yoursell Nor yet wad waken me.’ XLI O he’s gane down to yon shore-side, As fast as he could dree, And there he saw fair Annie’s bark A rowing owre the sea. XLII ‘O Annie, Annie,’ loud he cried, ‘O Annie, O Annie, bide!’ But ay the mair he cried ‘Annie,’ The braider grew the tide. XLIII ‘O Annie, Annie, dear Annie, Dear Annie, speak to me!’ But ay the louder he ’gan call, The louder roar’d the sea. XLIV The wind blew loud, the waves rose hie And dash’d the boat on shore; Fair Annie’s corpse was in the faem, The babe rose never more. XLV Lord Gregory tore his gowden locks And made a wafu’ moan; Fair Annie’s corpse lay at his feet, His bonny son was gone. XLVI O cherry, cherry was her cheek, And gowden was her hair, And coral, coral was her lips, Nane might with her compare! XLVII Then first he kiss’d her pale, pale cheek, And syne he kiss’d her chin, And syne he kiss’d her wane, wane lips, There was na breath within. XLVIII ‘O wae betide my ill mither, An ill death may she die! She turn’d my true-love frae my door, Who cam so far to me. XLIX ‘O wae betide my ill mither, An ill death may she die! She has no been the deid[316] o’ ane, But she’s been the deid of three.’ L Then he’s ta’en out a little dart, Hung low down by his gore[317], He thrust it through and through his heart, And words spak never more. FOOTNOTES: [309] jimp = slim. [310] kame = comb. [311] haw bayberry =? _a corruption for_ ‘braw ivory’: _or_ bayberry _may_ = laurel-wood. [312] cramoisie = crimson. [313] reiver = robber. [314] jawing = surging. [315] dow = can. [316] deid = death. [317] gore = skirt, waist. _44. Young Bekie_ I Young Bekie was as brave a knight As ever sail’d the sea; And he’s doen him to the court of France, To serve for meat and fee. II He had nae been i’ the court of France A twelvemonth nor sae long, Til he fell in love with the king’s daughter, And was thrown in prison strong. III The king he had but ae daughter, Burd Isbel was her name; And she has to the prison-house gane, To hear the prisoner’s mane. IV ‘O gin a lady wou’d borrow[318] me, At her stirrup-foot I wou’d rin; Or gin a widow wou’d borrow me, I wou’d swear to be her son. V