Come to the crag an' thrice kiss me."

He's louted him o'er the lofty crag,
And he has gi'en her kisses three;
In she swang, a loathly worm;
An' out she stepped, a fair ladye.

Nae cleeding had this lady fair,
To keep her body frae the cold;
But Kempion took his mantle aff,
And around his ain true love did fold.

"An' by my sooth," says Kempion,
"My ain true love!--for this is she,--
They surely had a heart o' stane,
Could put thee to this misery.

"O was it wer-wolf in the wood,
Or was it mermaid in the sea,
Or wicked man, or wile woman,
My ain true love, that mis-shaped thee?"

"It was na wer-wolf in the wood,
Nor was it mermaid in the sea;
But it was my wicked stepmither,
And wae and weary may she be!"

"O a heavier weird light her upon
Than ever fell on wile woman!
Her hair sall grow rough, an' her teeth grow lang,