39
Haſte then to the glen, my Mary.
ere ſummer frae us will be gane:
O ſay that thou loveſt me, Mary,
"'twill caſe my fond heart o'its pain.
SWEET WILLY O.
THE pride of all nature was ſweet Willy O,
The pride of all nature was ſweet Willy O;
The firſt of all ſwains;
He gladden'd the plains;
None ever was like to the ſweet Willy O.
He ſung it ſo rarely did ſweet Willy O,
He ſung it &c.
He melted each maid,
So ſkilful he play'd,
No ſhepherd e'er pip'd like the ſweet Willy O.
All nature obey'd him, the ſweet Willy O,
All nature. &c.
Wherever he came,
Whatever had rame,
Whenever he ſung, follow'd ſweet Willy O.
He would be a Soidier, the ſweet Willy O;
He would, &n.
When arm'd in the field
With ſword and with ſhield,
The laurel was won by ſweet Willy O.
D2
