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THE HEIE OP LINNE. |
63 |
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All but a poore and lonesome lodge, That stood far off in a lonely glenne.
For soe he to his father hight. *
" My sonne, when I am gonne," sayd hee,
" Then thou wilt spend thy lande so broad, And thou wilt spend thy gold so free.
" But sweare me nowe upon the roode,
That lonesome lodge thou'lt never spend; w
For when all the world doth frown on thee, Thou there shalt find a faithful friend."
The heire of Linne is full of golde :
" And come with me, my friends," sayd hee,
" Let's drinke, and rant, and merry make, « And he that spares, ne'er mote he thee."
They ranted, drank, and merry made,
Till all his gold it waxed thinne; And then his friendes they slunk away;
They left the unthrifty heire of Linne. so
He had never a penny left in his purse,
Never a penny left but three, And one was brass, another was lead,
And another it was white money.
" Nowe well-aday," sayd the heire of Linne, ei " Nowe well-aday, and woe is mee, |
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