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Wha spied I but my ain dear maid,
Down by her mother's dwelling ! I turn'd me round to hide the food
That in my een was swelling.
W;' alter'd voice quoth I, “Sweet lass,
Sweet as yon hawthorn's blossom,
That's dearest to thy bosom!
And fain wad be thy lodger;
Take pity on a sodger.”
Sae wistfully she gazed on me,
And lovelier was than ever :
Forget him shall I never ;
Ye freely shall partake o't;
Ye're welcome for the sake o't!"
She gazed—she redden'd like a rose-
Syne pale like ony lily!
“ Art thou my ain dear Willie ?” “ By Him who made yon sun and sky,
By whom true love's regarded, I am the man; and thus
still True lovers be rewarded.
“ The wars are o’er, and I'm come hame,
And find thee still true-hearted; Though poor in gear, we're rich in love;
And mair, we’se ne'er be parted.”