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There's nae a cock in a' the land
But has wappit his wings and crawn."
Glenkindie's tane his harp in hand, «>
He harpit and he sang, And he has reach'd the lady's bower,
Afore that e'er he blan.
When he cam to the lady's bower,
He chappit at the chin ; 100
" 0, wha is that at my bower door, That opens na and comes in ? "
•" It's I, Glenkindie, your ain true love, And in I canna win."
* » • * #
" Forbid it, forbid it," says that lady, 10s
" That ever sic shame betide ; That I should first be a wild loon's lass,
And than a young knight's bride."
There was nae pity for that lady,
For she lay cald and dead ; no
But a' was for him, Glenkindie,
In bower he must go mad.
He'd harpit a fish out o' saut water; The water out o' a stane;