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The small birds rejoice . . . .270 |
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The smiling spring comes in rejoicing |
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The sun he is sunk in the west |
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The taylor fell thro' the bed . |
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The taylor he cam here to sew |
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The Thames flows proudly to the sea |
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The weary fund, the weary pund |
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The wintry west extends iis blast |
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Their groves o' sweet myrtle . |
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Then, gudewife, count the lawin |
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Then hey for a lass wt a tocher |
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Theniel Menzies' bonie Mary . |
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Then up wit a', my ploughman lad |
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There grows a bonie brier-bush |
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There lived a carl in Kellyburn braes |
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"There liv'd a man in yonder glen |
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There 's a youth in this city |
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*There 's canld kail in Aberdeen |
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There 's news, lasses, news |
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There's nought but care on ev'ry han' |
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There's sax eggs in the pan, gudeman |
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There's three true gude fellows |
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*There was a battle in the North |
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There was a lad was born in Kyle |
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There was a lass, and she was fair |
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There was a lass, they ca'd her Meg |
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There was a wife wonn'd in Cockpen |
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There was five carlins in the South |
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There was three kings into the east |
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They snool me sair, and hand me down |
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Thickest night, surround my dwelling |
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Thine am 1, my faithful fair |
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Tho' cruel fate should bid us part |
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Thou hast left me ever, Jamie . |
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Thou ling'ring star with less'ning ray |
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Tho' women's minds like winter winds |
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To daunton me, to daunton me |
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To the weavers gin ye go, fair maids |
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Turn again, thou fair Eliza |
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*Twa bonie lads were Sandy and Jockie |
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- 'Twas even—the dewy fields were green |
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'Twas in the seventeen hunderd year . |
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'Twas na her bonie bine e'e was my ruin |
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'Twas on a Monday morning . |
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