But grip ye to the milk-white steed,
And pu' the rider doun.

"My right hand will be glov'd, Janet,
My left hand will be bare,
And thae's the tokens I gie thee;
Nae doubt I will be there.

"Ye'll seize upon me with a spring,
And to the ground I'll fa',
And then you'll hear an elrish cry
That Tamlane is awa'.

"They'll turn me in your arms, Janet,
An adder and a snake;
But haud me fast, let me not pass,
Gin ye would be my maik.

"They'll turn me in your arms, Janet,
An adder and an aske;
They'll turn me in your arms, Janet,
A bale that burns fast.

"They'll shape me in your arms, Janet,
A dove, but and a swan:
And last they'll shape me in your arms
A mother-naked man:
Cast your green mantle over me--
And sae shall I be wan!"