4
And then his friends think all away,
And left the thriftless Heir of Linne,
He hadna a penny left in’s purse,
Never a penny left but three;
The tane was brass, the tither lead,
The third it was of white monie.
"Now well-a-day, said th’ Heir of Linne,
"Now well-a-day and woe is me;
"For when I was the Lord of Linne,
"I never wanted gold or fee:
"But mony a trusty friend have I,
"And why should I feel dole or care?
"I’ll borrow of them all by turns,
"Sac need I not be ever bare."
But ane, I wot, was not at hame;
The next had paid his gold away;
Another call’d him thriftless loon,
And bad him sharply wend his wav.
"New well-a-day,” said th’ Heir of Linne,
"Now well-a-day and woe is me;
"For when I had any lands so broad,
"On me they liv’d right merrilie.
"To beg my bread from door to door,
"I’m sure, ’twould be a burning shame;
"To rob and steal would be a sin;
"To work my limbs I cannot frame.
"Now I’ll away to lonesome lodge,
"For there my father bade me wend;
"When all the world should frown on me,
"I there should find a trusty friend."
Away then hied the Heir of Linne,
O’er hill and holt, and muir and fen.
Till he came to the lonesome lodge,
That stood so low into a glen.
