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" Mend up the fire, my fause brother, 105 It's nae come to my knees."
0 whan he lighted at the yeat, She heard his bridle ring:
" Mend up the fire, my fause brother ; It's far yet frae my chin. no
" Mend up the fire to me, brother,
Mend up the fire to me ; For I see him comin' hard and fast,
Will soon men't up for thee.
" 0 gin my hands had been loose, Willy, ns Sae hard as they are boun',
1 wadd hae turn'd me frae the gleed,
And casten out your young son."
" 0 I'll gar burn for you, Maisry,
Your father and your mother; 120
And I'll gar burn for you, Maisry, Your sister and your brother;
" And I'll gar burn for you, Maisry,
The chief o' a' your kin; And the last bonfire that I come to, va
Mysell I will cast in."