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YOUNG Jamie lo'ed me weel, and he sought me for his bride,

But saving a crown he had naething else beside;

To make that crown a pound, my

Jamie gaed to sea,

And the crown and the pound were baith for me.

He had na been awa a week but only twa,

When my mither she fell sick, and the cow was stown awa,

My father brak his arm, and my Jamie at the sea,

And auld Robin Gray cam' a-courting to me.

My father cou'dna work, and my mither cou'dua spin;

I toiled baith day and night, but their bread I cou'dna win; Auld Rob maintained them baith, and wi' tears in his ee Said, Jenny, for their sakes, oh, will you marry me?

My heart it said nay; I looked for Jamie back;

But the wind it blew high, and the

ship it proved a wrack, The ship it proved a wrack, - why didna Jenny dee?

And why do I live to say, Oh, waes me!

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When we came in by Glasgow town,
We were a comely sight to see;
My love was clad in the black vel-

And I mysel in cramasie.

But had I wist before I kissed,
That love had been sae ill to win,
I'd locked my heart in a case of

And pinned it with a silver pin.

O, O, if my young babe were born,
And set upon the nurse's knee,
And I mysel were dead and gane
And the green grass growin' ower



"It's narrow, narrow, make your bed,

And learn to lie your lane;

For I'm gaun o'er the sea, Fair Annie,
A braw bride to bring hame.
Wi' her I will get gowd and gear;
Wi' you I ne'er got nane.

"But wha will bake my bridal bread, Or brew my bridal ale?

And wha will welcome my brisk bride,

That I bring o'er the dale?".

"It's I will bake your bridal bread,
And brew your bridal ale;
And I will welcome your brisk bride,
That you bring o'er the dale."

"But she that welcomes my brisk bride

Maun gang like maiden fair;
She maun lace on her robe sae jimp,
And braid her yellow hair."

"But how can I gang maiden-like,
When maiden I am nane?
Have I not born seven sons to thee,
And am with child again?"

She's ta'en her young son in her


Another in her hand;

And she's up to the highest tower, To see him come to land.

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And aye she served the lang tables With white bread and with wine; And aye she drank the wan water, To haud her colour fine.

And aye she served the lang tables, With white bread and with brown; And ay she turned her round about, Sae fast the tears fell down.

And he's ta'en down the silk napkin, Hung on a silver pin;

And aye he wipes the tear trickling Adown her cheek and chin.

And aye he turned him round about,
And smiled amang his men,
Says "Like ye best the old ladye,
Or her that's new come hame?

When bells were rung, and mass was sung,

And a' men bound to bed,
Lord Thomas and his new-come bride,
To their chamber they were gaed.

Annie made her bed a little forbye, To hear what they might say; "And ever alas!" fair Annie cried, "That I should see this day!

"Gin my seven sons were seven young rats,

Running on the castle wa',
And I were a grey cat mysell,
I soon would worry them a'.

"Gin my seven sons were seven young hares,

Running o'er yon lilly lee,
And I were a grew hound mysell,
Soon worried they a' should be.”.

And wae and sad fair Annie sat,
And drearie was her sang;
And ever, as she sobbed and grat,
"Wae to the man that did the

"My gown is on," said the new-come bride,

"My shoes are on my feet,

And I will to fair Annie's chamber, And see what gars her greet.

"What ails ye, what ails ye, Fair Annie,

That ye make sic a moan?

Has your wine barrells cast the girds,
Or is your white bread gone?

"O wha was't was your father, Annie,
Or wha was't was your mother?
And had you ony sister, Annie,
Or had you ony brother?".

"The Earl of Wemyss was my father,
The Countess of Wemyss my mother;
And a' the folk about the house,
To me were sister and brother.".

"If the Earl of Wemyss was your father,

I wot sae was he mine;

And it shall not be for lack o'gowd,
That ye your love sall tyne.

"Come to your bed, my sister dear,
It ne'er was wranged for me,
But an ae kiss of his merry mouth,
As we cam owre the sea."

"Awa, awa, ye forenoon bride,
Awa, awa frae me:

I wudna hear my Annie greet,
For a' the gold I got wi' thee."

"OI have seven ships o' mine ain, A' loaded to the brim;

And I will gie them a' to thee,
Wi' four to thine eldest son,
But thanks to a' the powers in heaven
That I gae maiden hame!"




Ther is right at the West side of Itaille

Doun at the rote of Vesulus the cold, A lusty plain, abundant of vitaille, Ther many a toun and tour thou

maist behold,

That founded were in time of fathers old,

And many another delitable sighte. And Saluces this noble contree highte.

A markis whilom lord was of that


As were his worthy elders him before, And obeysant, ay redy to his hand,

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