7
"I row'd my apron round his head,
For fear my men should tell,
And I hid him in my Lord's castle,
And I nursed him there mysell.
And the best leeches in a' the land
Have tended him as he lay,
And he never has lack'd my helping hand,
By night nor yet by day.
"I durstna tell you before, Janet,
For I fear'd his life was gane,
But now he's sae weel, ye may visit him,
And ye’se meet by yoursells alane."
Then Janet she fell at her Lady's feet,
And she claspit them ferventlye,
And she steepit them a' wi' the tears o' joy
Till the good' Lady wept to see:
"Oh ye are an angel sent frae heaven,
To lighten calamitye!
For, in distress, a friend or foe
Is a' the same to thee.
If good deeds count in heaven, Ladye,
Eternal bliss to share,
Ye ha'e done a deed will save your soul,
Though you should never do mair."
“Get up, get up, my kind Janet,
But never trow tongue or pen,
That a' the warld are lost to good,
Except the Covenant men.
