And he has ridden o'er field and fell, Through moor, and moss, and many a mire; His spurs of steel were sair to bide, And from her four feet flew the fire. "My bonny gray, now play your part! The gray was a mare, and a right gude mare; But when she wan the Annan Water, She could not have ridden the ford that night Had a thousand merks been wadded at her. Put off "O boatman, boatman, put off your boat, your boat for golden money!" But for all the gold in fair Scotland, He dared not take him through to Annie. Oh, I was sworn so late yestreen, The side was stey, and the bottom deep, For she heard the water-kelpy roaring. |