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322 |
CLERK SAUNDERS. |
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But a' the bower-women e'er we saw Hadna goud buckles in their shoon."
Then up and spak her eldest brither,
Ay in ill time spak he: " It is Clerk Saunders, your true love, es
And never mat I the, But for this scorn that he has done,
This moment he sail die."
But up and spak her youngest brother,
Ay in good time spak he : ro
" O but they are a gudelie pair !— True lovers an ye be,
The sword that hangs at my sword belt Sail never sinder ye 1"
Syne up and spak her nexten brother, 7s
And the tear stood in his ee: " You've lo'ed her lang, and lo'ed her weel,
And pity it wad be, The sword that hangs at my aword-belt
Shoud ever sinder ye 1" so
But up and spak her fifthen brother,
" Sleep on your sleep for me; But we baith sail never sleep again,
For the tane o' us sail die 1"
[But up and spak her midmaist brother; ss
And an angry laugh leugh he: " The thorn that dabs, I'll cut it down,
Though fair the rose may be. |
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