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THE FOLK-SONGS OF POITOU.
Poor marine, from whence come you ? Good and kind.
Madame, I come from the war,
Good and kind. Madame, I come from the war,
Good and kind. Bring me now a brimming glass, That I may drink it as I pass,
Good and kind.
The brave marine begins to drink,
Good and kind. The brave marine begins to drink,
Good and kind. Drinks and sings a ballad gay, While madame wipes the tears away,
Good and kind.
What troubles you, my fair hostess ?
Good and kind. What troubles you, my fair hostess ?
Good and kind. Do you regret the kindly glass, That you give me as I pass ?
Good and kind.
I don't regret my good white wine,
Good and kind. I don't regret my good white wine,
Good and kind. A husband's loss bedims my eyes, For in your looks his image lies,
Good and kind. |
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