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LORD INGRAM AND CHILDE VYET
' I'd rather be Childe Vyet's wife,
With him to beg my bread, Before I were Lord Ingram's wife,
To wear the gold so red. . . .
' O where will I get a bonny boy,
Will win gold to his fee, And will run unto Childe Vyet
With this letter from me ?'—
' O here I am, the boy,' says one,
' Will win gold to my fee, And carry away any letter
To Childe Vyet from thee.'
The first line that Childe Vyet read,
A grieved man was he ; The next line that Childe Vyet read,
A tear blinded his e'e. i I wonder what ails my one brother,
He'll not let my love be!
' But I'll send to my brother's bridal— The gammons o' the swine—
With four and twenty buck and roe, And ten tun of the wine;
And bid my love be blithe and glad, And I will follow syne.'