Part II

Love Gregor started frae his sleep,
An to his mither did say,
“I dreamd a dream this night, mither,
That maks my heart right wae.

“I dreamd that Anny of Roch-royal,
The flowr o a’ her kin,
Was standin mournin at my door,
But nane would lat her in.”

“O there was a woman stood at the door,
Wi a bairn intill her arms,
But I woud na lat her within the bowr,
For fear she had done you harm.”

O quickly, quickly raise he up,
An fast ran to the stran,
An there he saw her Fair Anny,
Was sailin frae the lan.

An “Heigh, Anny!” an “Hou, Anny!
O Anny, speak to me!”
But ay the louder that he cried “Anny,”
The louder roard the sea.

An “Heigh, Anny!” an “Hou, Anny!
O Anny, winna you bide?”
But ay the langer that he cried “Anny,”
The higher roard the tide.

The win grew loud, an the sea grew rough,
An the ship was rent in twain,
An soon he saw her Fair Anny
Come floating oer the main.

He saw his young son in her arms,
Baith tossd aboon the tide;
He wrang his hands, than fast he ran,
An plung’d i the sea sae wide.

He catchd her by the yallow hair,
An drew her to the strand,
But cauld an stiff was every limb
Before he reachd the land.

O first he kissd her cherry cheek,’
An then he kissd her chin;
An sair he kissd her ruby lips,
But there was nae breath within.

O he has mournd oer Fair Anny
Till the sun was gaing down,
Then wi a sigh his heart it brast,
An his soul to heaven has flown.