“哦，谁来给我漂亮的脚穿鞋?”我戴什么手套呢?还有什么能让我跳起来呢，是伦敦新乐队吗?“我的黄头发用什么来染，用新做的银发吗?”在爱格里高尔回来之前，我的小儿子有什么父亲呢?“你的父亲会给你穿鞋，你的母亲会给你戴手套;你姐姐会用新做的伦敦腰带给你系上腰带。“你哥哥会用新做的银发剪掉你的黄头发;天堂之王将是你孩子的父亲，直到爱格里高尔来到他身边。“但是我要弄一艘漂亮的船，我要在海上航行，因为我不能爱格里高尔，因为他不能回到我身边。” O she has gotten a bonny boat, And sailld the sa't sea fame; She langd to see her ain true-love, Since he could no come hame. 'O row your boat, my mariners, And bring me to the land, For yonder I see my love's castle, Close by the sa't sea strand.' She has ta'en her young son in her arms, And to the door she's gone, And lang she's knocked and sair she ca'd, But answer got she none. 'O open the door, Love Gregor,' she says, 'O open, and let me in; For the wind blaws thro' my yellow hair, And the rain draps o'er my chin.' 'Awa, awa, ye ill woman, You'r nae come here for good; You'r but some witch, or wile warlock, Or mer-maid of the flood.' 'I am neither a witch nor a wile warlock, Nor mer-maid of the sea, I am Fair Annie of Rough Royal; O open the door to me.' 'Gin ye be Annie of Rough Royal-- And I trust ye are not she-- Now tell me some of the love-tokens That past between you and me.' 'O dinna you mind now, Love Gregor, When we sat at the wine, How we changed the rings frae our fingers? And I can show thee thine. 'O yours was good, and good enough, But ay the best was mine; For yours was o' the good red goud, But mine o' the diamonds fine. 'But open the door now, Love Gregor, O open the door I pray, For your young son that is in my arms Will be dead ere it be day.' 'Awa, awa, ye ill woman, For here ye shanno win in; Gae drown ye in the raging sea, Or hang on the gallows-pin.' When the cock had crawn, and day did dawn, And the sun began to peep, Then up he rose him, Love Gregor, And sair, sair did he weep. 'O I dreamd a dream, my mother dear, The thoughts o' it gars me greet, That Fair Annie of Rough Royal Lay cauld dead at my feet.' 'Gin it be for Annie of Rough Royal That ye make a' this din, She stood a' last night at this door, But I trow she wan no in.' 'O wae betide ye, ill woman, An ill dead may ye die! That ye woudno open the door to her, Nor yet woud waken me.' O he has gone down to yon shore-side, As fast as he could fare; He saw Fair Annie in her boat, But the wind it tossd her sair. And 'Hey, Annie!' and 'How, Annie! O Annie, winna ye bide?' But ay the mair that he cried 'Annie,' The braider grew the tide. And 'Hey, Annie!' and 'How, Annie! Dear Annie, speak to me!' But ay the louder he cried 'Annie,' The louder roard the sea. The wind blew loud, the sea grew rough, And dashd the boat on shore; Fair Annie floats on the raging sea, But her young son rose no more. Love Gregor tare his yellow hair, And made a heavy moan; Fair Annie's corpse lay at his feet, But his bonny young son was gone. O cherry, cherry was her cheek, And gowden was her hair, But clay cold were her rosey lips, Nae spark of life was there, And first he's kissd her cherry cheek, And neist he's kissed her chin; And saftly pressd her rosey lips, But there was nae breath within. 'O wae betide my cruel mother, And an ill dead may she die! For she turnd my true-love frae my door, When she came sae far to me.'