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And if I kiss thy comely mouth, u
Thy days of life will not be lang.
" 0 cocks are crowing a merry midnight, I wot the wild fowls are boding day ; ~ Give me my faith and troth again,
And let me fare me on my way."— ^
" Thy faith and troth thou sail na get, And our true love shall never twin,
Until ye tell what comes of women, I wot, who die in strong traiveling."
" Their beds are made in the heavens high, as Down at the foot of our good Lord's knee,
Weel set about wi' gillyflowers ; I wot sweet company for to see.
" 0 cocks are crowing a merry midnight, I wot the wild fowl are boding day ; a>
The psalms of heaven will soon be sung, And I, ere now, will be miss'd away."—
Then she has ta'en a crystal wand,
And she has stroken her troth thereon ;
She has given it him out at the shot-window, * Wi' mony a sad sigh, and heavy groan.
" I thank ye, Marg'ret; I thank ye, Marg'ret; And aye I thank ye heartilie ; 33. Chrisom.