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No. 66 |
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Ibby Damsel |
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2 Her hair's as black as a raven's feather That do sit on yon willow tree,
Her sparkling eyes they're so enticing; But from her chamber I can't get free.
3 Her heart as sweet as any posy, Her cheeks are of the rosy red, Her sparkling eyes are so enticing,
Her eyebrows wove with a golden thread. |
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223 |
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