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THE FOLK-SONGS OF POITOU. 241
Ah, tell me now, my fair hostess,
Good and kind. Ah, tell me now, my fair hostess,
Good and kind. Children three he left behind, But now three more with you I find,
Good and kind.
I had a letter from the war,
Good and kind. I had a letter from the war,
Good and kind. Which said my brave marine was dead, I thought it true ; again I wed,
Good and kind.
The brave marine drank out his glass,
Good and kind. The brave marine drank out his glass,
Good and kind. Without a word, while soft tears flowed, To his corps went back his road,
Good and kind. |
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