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146 THE DEATH OP PAKCT EEED.
'_' There's some will ca' me Parcy Reed, ix
And some will ca' me Laird Troughen';
It's little matter what they ca' me, My faes hae made me ill to ken.
" There's some will ca' me Parcy Reed,
And speak my praise in tower and town; !«-•
It's little matter what they do now,
My life-blood rudds the heather brown.
" There's some will ca' me Parcy Reed,
And a' my virtues say and sing; I would much rather have just now n&
A draught o' water frae the spring!"
The herd flung aff his clouted shoon,
And to the nearest fountain ran; He made his bonnet serve a cup,
And wan the blessing o' the dying man. isa
" Now, honest herd, ye maun do mair,—
Ye maun do mair as I ye tell; Ye maun bear tidings to Troughend,
And bear likewise my last farewell.
" A farewell to my wedded wife, is
A farewell to my brother John, Wha sits into the Troughend tower,
Wi' heart as black as any stone. |
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