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" O baud your tongue, ye eldren man,
And bring me not to shame; »
Although that I do gang wi' bairn, Yese naeways get the blame.
" Were my love but an earthly man, As he's an elfin knicht, I wadna gie my ain true luve, «
For a' that's in my sicht."
Then out it speaks her brither dear, He meant to do her harm, " There is an herb in Charter-woods
Will twine you an' the bairn." «>
She's taen her mantle her about,
Her coiffer by the band; And she is on to Charter-woods,
As fast as she coud gang.
She hadna poud a rose, a rose, «
Nor braken a branch but ane, Till by it came him, Tam-a-Line,
Says, " Ladye, lat alane."
" O! why pou ye the pile, Margaret,
The pile o' the gravil green, 70'
For to destroy the bonny bairn That we got us between ?
" O ! why pou ye the pile, Margaret, The pile o' the gravil gray, For to destroy the bonny bairn n
That we got in our play ?