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SAW YE MY WEE THING? |
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It was na my wee thing, it was na my ain thing, It was na my true love ye met by the tree :
Proud is her leal heart, an' modest her nature,
. She never lo'ed ony till ance she lo'ed me.
Her name it is Mary, she's frae Castle-Cary; Aft has she sat, when a bairn, on my knee:
Fair as your face is, wer't fifty times fairer, Young bragger, she ne'er wad gi'e kisses to thee.
It was, then, your Mary, she's frae Castle-Cary, It was, then, your true love, I met by the tree ;
Proud as her heart is, and modest her nature, Sweet were the kisses that she ga'e to me. |
Sair gloomed his dark brow, blood-red his cheek grew, And wild flash'd the fire frae his red-rolling e'e; Ye 'se rue sair this morning your boasts and your scorning ! Defend ye, fause traitor, fu' loudly ye lie !
Awa' wi' beguiling, cried the youth, smiling ; —
Aff went the bonnet, the lint-white locks flee ; The belted plaid fa'ing, her white bosom shawing,
Fair stood the lov'd maid wi' the dark, rolling e'e Is it my wee thing ? is it my ain thing ?
Is it my true love here that I see ? O Jamie, forgi'e me, your heart's constant to me,
I'll never mair wander, dear laddie, frae thee! |
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THE ROSE OF ALLANDALE.
This simple, familiar, Scottish-sounding ditty was written by Charles Jefperys, and the music was composed by his friend Sidney Nelson. |
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