"THE water weets my toe," she said, "The water weets my knee; Haud up, Sir Knicht, my horse's head, If you a true luve be!" "I luved ye weel, and luved ye lang, Yet grace I failed to win; Nae trust put I in ladye's troth Till water weets her chin!' "Then water weets my waist, proud lord, The water weets my chin; My achin' head spins round about, The burn maks sik a din -- Now, help thou me, thou fearsome Knicht, If grace ye hope to win!" "I mercy hope to win, high dame, Yet hand I've nane to gie -- The trinklin' o' a gallant's blude Sae sair hath blindit me!" "Oh! help! -- Oh! help! -- If man ye be Have on a woman ruth -- The waters gather round my head And gurgle in my mouth!" "Turn round and round, fell Margaret, Turn round and look on me -- The pity that ye schawed yestreen I'll fairly schaw to thee! "Thy girdle-knife was keen and bricht -- The ribbons wondrous fine -- 'Tween every knot o' them ye knit Of kisses I had nine! "Fond Margaret! Fause Margaret! You kissed me cheek and chin -- Yet, when I slept, that girdle-knife You sheathed my heart's blude in! "Fause Margaret! Lewde Margaret! The nicht ye bide wi' me -- The body, under trust, you slew, My spirit weds wi' thee!" |