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CHILDE VTET. |
75 |
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The next line that he looked on, A tear blinded his e'e.
" What ails my own brother," he says, " He'll not let my love be; a>
But I'll send to my brother's bridal; The woman shall be free.
" Take four and twenty bucks and ewes,
And ten tun of the wine, And bid my love be blythe and glad, es
And I will follow syne."
There was not a groom about that castle,
But got a gown of green; And a' was blythe, and a' was glad,
But Lady Maiserey was wi' wean. w
There was no cook about the kitchen,
But got a gown of gray ; And a' was blythe, and a' was glad,
But Lady Maiserey was wae.
'Tween Mary Kirk and that castle, n
Was all spread o'er with garl, To keep the lady and her maidens,
From tramping on the marl.
70, she was neen. Motherwell. 76, gold, 78, mould. N. 0. G. |
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