Page:Tullochgorum (2).pdf/7

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7
I may not, dare not, fancy now,
The grief that clouds thy lovely brow;
I dare not think upon thy vow,
And all it promis’d me, Mary!
No fond regret must Norman know;
When bursts clan Alpine on the foe,
His heart must be like bended bow,
His foot like arrow free, Mary!

A time will come with feeling fraught,
For if I fall in battle fought,
Thy hapless lover’s dying thought,
Shall be a thought on thee, Mary!
And if return’d from conquer’d foes,
How blithely will the evening close,
How sweet the linnet sing repose,
To my young bride and me, Mary!


She's Fair and Fause.

She’s fair and fause that causes my smart
I loo’d her meikle and lang;
She’s broken her vow, she's broken my heart,
And I may e‘en gae hang.
A coof cam in wi’ rowth o’ gear,
And I hae tint my dearest dear;