3
The supper-bell it will be rung,
No longer must I stand;
My father he'll no supper take,
If I be miss'd know:
So I'll not lie in your bed,
Neither at stock nor wa'.
Then says the pretty lady,
I pray tell me your name;
My name is Captain Wedderburn,
A servant to the king:
Tho' thy father and his men were here,
Of them I'd have no awe,
But would take thee into my bed,
And lay thee next the wa'.
He lighted off his milk-white steed,
And set this lady on;
And held her by the milk-white hand,
Even as they rode along:
He held her by the middle jimp,
For fear that she should fa',
And said, I'll take thee to my bed,
And lay thee next the wa'.
He took her to his lodging-house,
His landlady looked ben,
Says, Many ladies in Edinburgh I've seen,
But never such a one.
For such a pretty face as this,
