7
Says, I'll lay all my lands and rents,
that yonder's the laird of Logie free.
The King has sent to the prison strong,
he has call'd for his keepers three:
Says, How does all your prisoners,
and how does the young laird of Logie?
Your Majesty sent me your wedding rings
with your high command to set him free;
Then to morrow before that I eat or drink,
I surely will hang you keepers three,
Then out bespoke our gracious Queen,
and she spoke words most tenderlie,
If ever you begin to hang a man for this,
your Majesty must begin with me.
The one took shipping at Lith
the other at the Queen's-ferrie;
Lady Margaret has gotten the man she loves,
I mean the young laird of Logie.
The Soldier's Adieu.
ADIEU! adieu my only life.
My honour cal:ls me from thee!
Remember thou’rt a ſoldiers wife.
Thoſe tears but ill ⟨become⟩ thee.
What tho' by duty I am call'd,
Where thund'nin cannons rattle:
Where valour's ſelf might stand appall'd,
When on the wings of thy dear love,
To hevan above
Thy ſervant oriſons are flown?
The tener pray'r
Thou put'ſt up there,
