"O haud your tongue," her father says,
"And let be a' your sorrow;
I'll wed you to a better lord
Than him ye lost on Yarrow."

"O haud your tongue, father," she says,
"Far warse ye mak' my sorrow;
A better lord could never be
Than him that lies on Yarrow."

She kiss'd his lips, she kaim'd his hair,
As aft she had dune before, O;
And there wi' grief her heart did break,
Upon the banks o' Yarrow.





Hugh of Lincoln



SHOWING THE CRUELTY OF A JEW'S DAUGHTER


Four and twenty bonny boys
Were playing at the ba',
And up it stands him sweet Sir Hugh,