Chapter XXXI: Part I

“O wha will shoe my fu fair foot?
An wha will glove my han?
An wha will lace my middle gimp
Wi the new made London ban?

“Or wha will kemb my yallow hair,
Wi the new made silver kemb?
Or wha’ll be father to my young bairn,
Till Love Gregor come hame?”

Her father shoed her fu fair foot,
Her mother glovd her han;
Her sister lac’d her middle gimp
Wi the new made London ban.

Her brother kembd her yallow hair,
Wi the new made silver kemb,
But the king o heaven maun father her bairn,
Till Love Gregor come hame.

“O gin I had a bony ship,
An men to sail wi me,
It’s I would gang to my true-love,
Since he winna come to me.”

Her father’s gien her a bonny ship,
An sent her to the stran;
She’s tane her young son in her arms,
An turnd her back to the lan.

She had na been o the sea saillin
About a month or more,
Till landed has she her bonny ship
Near her true-love’s door.

The night was dark, an the win blew caul,
An her love was fast asleep,
An the bairn that was in her twa arms
Fu sair began to weep.

Long stood she at her true-love’s door,
An lang tirld at the pin;
At length up gat his fa’se mither,
Says, “Wha’s that woud be in?”

“O it is Anny of Roch-royal,
Your love, come oer the sea,
But an your young son in her arms;
So open the door to me.”

“Awa, awa, you ill woman,
You’ve na come here for gude;
You’re but a witch, or wile warlock,
Or mermaid o the flude.”

“I’m na a witch, or wile warlock,
Nor mermaiden,” said she;
“I’m but Fair Anny o Roch-royal;
O open the door to me.”

“O gin ye be Anny o Roch-royal,
As I trust not ye be,
What taiken can ye gie that ever
I kept your company?”

“O dinna ye mind, Love Gregor,” she says,
“Whan we sat at the wine,
How we changed the napkins frae our necks,
It’s na sae lang sin syne?

“An yours was good, an good enough,
But nae sae good as mine;
For yours was o the cumbruk clear,
But mine was silk sae fine.

“An dinna ye mind, Love Gregor,” she says,
“As we twa sat at dine,
How we changed the rings frae our fingers,
But ay the best was mine?

“For yours was good, an good enough,
Yet nae sae good as mine;
For yours was of the good red gold,
But mine o the diamonds fine.

“Sae open the door now, Love Gregor,
An open it wi speed,
Or your young son that is in my arms
For cauld will soon be dead.”

“Awa, awa, you ill woman,
Gae frae my door for shame;
For I hae gotten another fair love,
Sae ye may hye you hame.”

“O hae you gotten another fair love,
For a’ the oaths you sware?
Then fair you well now, fa’se Gregor,
For me you’s never see mair.”

O heely, heely gi’d she back,
As the day began to peep;
She set her foot on good ship-board,
An sair, sair did she weep.