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342 TONE-POETRY OF ROBERT BURNS |
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No. 353. Rob Roy from the Highlands cam.
Tune: Mill, Mill OS (see No. 266). |
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Rob Roy from the Highlands cam
Unto the Lawlan' border, To steal awa a gay ladie,
To haud his house in order : He cam owre the loch o' Lynn,
Twenty men his arms did carry ; Himsel gaed in an' fond her out,
Protesting he would marry. |
' O, will ye gae wi' me,' he says,
' Or will ye be my honey; Or will ye be my wedded wife,
For I love you best of ony' ; ' I winna gae wi' you,* she says,
' Nor will I be your honey; Nor will I be your wedded wife,
You love me for my money.' |
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But he set her on a coal black steed,
Himsel lap on behind her, An' he's awa to the Hieland hills,
Whare her frien's they canna find her.
No. 354.
[The song went on to narrate the forcing her to bed; when the tune changes to something like |
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Rob Roy was my father ca'd,
Macgregor was his name, ladie; He led a band o' heroes bauld,
An' I am here the same, ladie. Be content, be content,
Be content to stay, ladie ; For thou art my wedded wife
Until thy dying day, ladie. |
He was a hedge unto his friens,
A heckle to his foes, ladie ; Every one that durst him wrang,
He took him by the nose, ladie ; I'm as bold, I'm as bold,
I'm as bold, and more, ladie ; He that daurs dispute my word
Shall feel my guid claymore, ladie. |
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