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that was as sharp and meek,
And drove it into the brown brides ⟨heart⟩
that fell dead at his feet.
O stay for me fair Annet, he said,
now stay, my dear, he cry’d.
Then struck the dagger into his side,
and fell dead by her side,
Lord Thomas was buried without ⟨the kirk⟩
fair Annet within the quire,
And on the one their sprang the birk,
the other a bonny brier.
And ay the grew and ay the grew,
as they’d fain been near,
And by this ye may know right well,
they were two lovers dear.
What's that to you.
MY Jeany and I have toil’d,
the live lang summer day,
Till we amaist were spoll’d,
at making of the hay;
Her kurchy was of Holland clear,
