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'0 sleep ye, wake ye, Lillie Flower?
The red sun's on the rain ; Ye're bidden come to Silverwood,
But I doubt ye'll never win hame.'
She hadna ridden a mile, a mile,
A mile but barely three, Ere she came to a new-made grave
Beneath a green aik tree.
O then up started Jellon Grame Out of a bush thereby ;
'Light down, light down, now, Lille Flower, For it's here that ye maun lye.'
She lighted aff her milk-white steed, And kneel'd upon her knee ;
' O mercy, mercy, Jellon Grame,
For I'm no prepared to die.'
' Your bairn, that stirs between my sides,
Maun shortly see the light; But to see it weltering in my blood
Would be a piteous sight.'—
' O should I spare your life,' he says,
' Until that bairn were born, Full weel I ken your auld father
Would hang me on the morn.'—