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282 THE GAT GOSS-HAWK. |
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Then spake her cruel step-minnie, iob
" Tak ye the burning lead, And drap a drap on her bosome,
To try if she be dead."
They took a drap o' boiling lead,
They drapp'd it on her breast; no
"Alas! alas ! " her father cried,
" She's dead without the priest."
She neither chatter'd with her teeth,
Nor shiver'd with her chin; " Alas ! alas ! " her father cried, us
" There is nae breath within."
Then up arose her seven brethren,
And hew'd to her a bier; They hew'd it frae the solid aik,
Laid it o'er wi' silver clear. 120
Then up and gat her seven sisters,
And sewed to her a kell; And every steek that they put in
Sewed to a siller bell.
The first Scots kirk that they cam to, 125
They garr'd the bells be rung; The next Scots kirk that they cam to,
They garr'd the mass be sung. |
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