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112 THE LASS OF LOCHROYAN.
0 he's gane down to yon shore side
As fast as he could fare; He saw fair Annie in the boat,
But the wind it toss'd her sair.
" And hey, Annie, and how, Annie ! 125
0 Annie, winna ye bide ! " But aye the mair he cried Annie,
The braider grew the tide.
" And hey, Annie, and how, Annie!
Dear Annie, speak to me 1" i3"
But aye the louder he cried Annie,
The louder roar'd the sea.
The wind blew loud, the sea grew rough,
And dash'd the boat on shore; Fair Annie floated through the faem, iss
But the babie rose no more.
Lord Gregory tore his yellow hair,
And made a heavy moan ; Fair Annie's corpse lay at his feet,
Her bonny young son was gone. 140
O cherry, cherry was her cheek,
And gowden was her hair; But clay-cold were her rosy lipsó
Nae spark o' life was there.