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A SHROPSHIRE LAD
VIII
'Farewell to barn and stack and tree,
Farewell to Severn shore.
Terence, look your last at me,
For I come home no more.
Farewell to Severn shore.
Terence, look your last at me,
For I come home no more.
'The sun burns on the half-mown hill,
By now the blood is dried;
And Maurice amongst the hay lies still
And my knife is in his side.
By now the blood is dried;
And Maurice amongst the hay lies still
And my knife is in his side.
'My mother thinks us long away;
'Tis time the field were mown.
She had two sons at rising day,
To-night she'll be alone.
'Tis time the field were mown.
She had two sons at rising day,
To-night she'll be alone.
'And here's a bloody hand to shake,
And oh, man, here's good-bye;
We'll sweat no more on scythe and rake,
My bloody hands and I.
And oh, man, here's good-bye;
We'll sweat no more on scythe and rake,
My bloody hands and I.
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