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122i THE BONNIE EARL O' MURRAY.
The lady came down the stair,
Wringing her hands; " He has slain the Earl o' Murray, u
The flower o' Scotland."
But Huntly lap on his horse,
Eade to the king: " Ye're welcome hame, Huntly,
And whare hae ye been ? 20
" Whare hae ye been ?
And how hae ye sped ? " " I've killed the Earl o' Murray,
Dead in his bed."
" Foul fa' you, Huntly ! 25
And why did ye so ? You might have ta'en the Earl o' Murray
And saved his life too."
" Her bread it's to bake,
Her yill is to brew; 30
My sister's a widow,
And sair do I rue.
" Her corn grows ripe,
Her meadows grow green, But in bonny Dinnibristle as
I darena be seen." |
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