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' And pleasant is the fairy land
For those that in it dwell, But ay at end of seven years
They pay a teind to hell; I am sae fair and fu' o' flesh
I'm fear'd 'twill be mysell.
' But the night is Hallowe'en, Janet,
The morn is Hallowday; Then win me, win me, an ye will,
For weel I wat ye may.
' The night it is gude Hallowe'en,
The fairy folk do ride, And they that wad their true-love win,
At Miles Cross they maun bide.'—
' But how should I you ken, Tarn Lin,
How should I borrow you, Amang a pack of uncouth knights
The like I never saw ?'—
' You'll do you down to Miles Cross
Between twel' hours and ane, And fill your hands o' the holy water
And cast your compass roun'.
teind] tithe. borrow] ransom. tincouthj unknown.