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ANNET appear arms ballad beauty blooming bonny bower braes brave breaſt bride charms coming dear death DOUGLAS e'er Earl eyes face fair faith fall faſt father fear fell firſt flowers frae gang give green gude hame hand happy haſte head hear heart hill I'll John kind king lady land laſs leave live look Lord loud lover luve maid mair Mary maun meet mind mony morning mother muſt nae mair nane ne'er never night o'er PEGGY pleaſe Queen roſe round ſae ſaid ſaw ſay ſee ſeen ſet ſhall ſhe ſhould ſmiles ſon ſtill ſwain ſweet ſword tell thair thee theſe thou thought tree true Tune wind Yarrow yellow young youth zour
Сторінка 28 - O wha is this has don this deid, This ill deid don to me, To send me out this time o' the yeir, To sail upon the se!
Сторінка 250 - OR ever, Fortune, wilt thou prove An unrelenting foe to love, And when we meet a mutual heart, Come in between, and bid us part: Bid us sigh on from day to day, And wish, and wish the soul away; Till youth and genial years are flown, And all the life of life...
Сторінка 71 - My love, as he had not been a lover. The boy put on his robes, his robes of green, His purple vest, 'twas my ain sewing; Ah!
Сторінка 70 - Sweet smells the birk, green grows, green grows the grass, Yellow on Yarrow's bank the gowan ; Fair hangs the apple frae the rock, Sweet the wave of Yarrow flowan.
Сторінка 298 - I wish nae mair of a' that's rare. My Peggy speaks sae sweetly, To a' the lave I'm cauld; But she gars a' my spirits glow, At wauking of the fauld. My Peggy smiles sae kindly, Whene'er I whisper love. That I look down on a' the town, — That I look down upon a crown.
Сторінка 24 - LORD THOMAS and Fair Annet Sate a' day on a hill ; Whan night was cum, and sun was sett, They had not talkt their fill. Lord Thomas said a word in jest, Fair Annet took it ill : " A, I will nevir wed a wife Against my ain friends
Сторінка 57 - And thus in rage did say : Ere thus I will out-braved be, One of us two shall die : I know thee well, an earl thou art, Lord Percy, so am I.
Сторінка 21 - He was a braw gallant, And he rid at the ring: And the bonny Earl of Murray, Oh he might have been a king! He was a braw gallant, And he playd at the ba; And the bonny Earl of Murray Was the flower amang them a'.
Сторінка 70 - Curse ye, curse ye, his useless, useless shield, My arm that wrought the deed of sorrow, The fatal spear that pierced his breast, His comely breast on the Braes of Yarrow.