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JAMIE DOUGLAS |
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XXIII
'Tis not the frost, that freezes fell, Nor blawing snaw's inclemencie,
'Tis not sic cauld that makes me cry; But my Love's heart grown cauld to me.
XXIV
When we cam' in by Glasgow toun, We were a comely sicht to see;
My Love was clad in the black velvet, And I mysel' in cramasie.
xxv But had I wist, before I kist,
That love had been sae ill to win, I had lock'd my heart in a case o' gowd,
And pinn'd it wi' a siller pin.
xxvi And O ! if my young babe were bom.
And set upon the nurse's knee; And I mysel' were dead and gane,
And the green grass growing over me! |
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