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THE SCOTTISH BORDER. 269
I trust to God, no more they shall,
Except it be one for a great chance ;
For God will punish all those
With a great heavy pestilence.
Thir limmer thieves, they have good hearts,
They nevir think to be overthrown ;
Three banners against Weardale-men they bare.
As if the world had been all their own.
Thir Weardale-men, they have good hearts.
They are as stiff' as any tree ;
For, if they'd every one been slain,
Never a foot back man would flee.
And such a storm amongst them fell.
As I think you never heard the hke :
For he that bears his head so high,
He oft-times falls into the dyke.
And now I do entreat you all,
As many as are present here.
To pray for the singer of this song,
For he sings to make blythe your cheer.

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