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Broadside entitled 'Morag's Fary Glen'



Copies of this song can always be had at the
Poets BOX 192 & 190 Overgate Dundee


Ye ken whar yon wee burnie, love,

Rins roarin' to the sea ;
And tumbles o'er its rocky beds,

Like spirits wild and free.
The mellow moves tunes his lay,

The blackbird swells his not ;
And little robin sweetly sings,

Above the woody grot.

Then meet me, love, by a' unseen,

    Beside you mossy den----

Oh, meet me, love, at dewy eve,

In Morag's Farey Glen.
Oh. meet me, love, at dewy eve,

In Morag's Farey Glen.

Come when the sun in robs of gold.

Sinks o'er yon hill to rest ;
And fragrance floating in the breeze,

And I will pu' a garland gay,

To deck thy brow sae fair ;
For many a woodbine covered glad,

And sweet wild flower is there.

There's music in the wild cascad,

Thrre's love among the trees;
There's beauty in ilka bank and brae,

An' balm upon the breeze.
There's a of nature and of art,

'That mistly weel could be ;
An' O, my love, when thou art-there,

There's bliss in store for thee.

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Probable period of publication: 1880-1900   shelfmark: L.C.Fol.70(35a)
Broadside entitled 'Morag's Fary Glen'
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