And out o' the tither a brier.

And ay they grew, and ay they drew,
Until they twa did meet,
And every ane that pass'd them by,
Said, "Thae's been lovers sweet!"

* * * * *


THE BANKS O' YARROW.

Late at e'en, drinking the wine,
And ere they paid the lawing,
They set a combat them between,
To fight it in the dawing.

"What though ye be my sister's lord,
We'll cross our swords to-morrow."
"What though my wife your sister be,
I'll meet ye then on Yarrow."

"O stay at hame, my ain gude lord!
O stay, my ain dear marrow!
My cruel brither will you betray
On the dowie banks o' Yarrow."

"O fare ye weel, my lady dear!
And put aside your sorrow;
For if I gae, I'll sune return