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Sweet "Willy was a widow's son,
And at her stirrup he did run; w
And she was clad in the finest pall,
But aye she let the tears down fall.
" O is your saddle set awrye ? Or rides your steed for you ower high ? Or are you mourning, in your tide, is
That you suld be Cospatrick's bride ? "
" I am not mourning, at this tide, That I suld be Cospatrick's bride; But I am sorrowing in my mood, That I suld leave my mother good. 20
" But, gentle boy, come tell to me,
What is the custom of thy countrie ? "— " The custom thereof, my dame," he says, " Will ill a gentle laydye please.
" Seven king's daughters has our lord wedded, 25 And seven king's daughters has our lord
bedded; But he's cutted their breasts frae their breast-bane, And sent them mourning hame again.
" Yet, gin you're sure that you're a maid, Ye may gae safely to his bed; »