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LADY MARGARET. See p. 205. From Kinloch's Ancient Scottish Ballads, p. 180. |
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" The corn is turning ripe, Lord John,
The nuts are growing fu', And ye are bound for your ain countrie ;
Fain wad I go wi' you."
" Wi me, Marg'ret, wi me, Marg'ret, «
What wad ye do wi' me ? I've mair need o' a pretty little boy,
To wait upon my steed."
" It's I will be your pretty little boy, To wait upon your steed; w
And ilka town that we come to, A pack of hounds I'll lead."
" My hounds will eat o' the bread o' wheat,
And ye of the bread of bran : And then you will sit and sigh, w
That e'er ye loed a man." |
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