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(191) Page 173 - Lord Archibald
173
I've wandered east, I've wandered west,
I've borne a weary lot ;
But in my wanderings, far or near,
Ye never were forgot.
The fount that first burst frae this heart,
Still travels on its way ;
And channels deeper as it rins,
The luve o' life's young day.
O dear, dear Jeanie Morrison,
Since we were sindered young,
I've never seen your face, nor heard
The music o' your tongue ;
But I could hug all wretchedness.
And happy could I die,
Did I but ken your heart still dreamed
O' bygane days and me !
LORD ARCHIBALD.
A BALLAD.
saftlie, saftlie laie him doun, and hap upo' his heid
The cauld reid erd ful lichtlie feris, this is a knichtlie rede ;
And pight a carvit croce of stane abune quhare he dois lye.
Syne it was for the halie rude Lord Archibald did die.
Its saftlie, saftlie have they layd Lord Archibald in graif.
And its dowie, dowie owre his bouk thatr plumis and bannerie
waif ;
And its lichtlie, lichtlie doe thay hap the red erth on his heid ;
And waefil was ilk knichtly fere to luik upon the deid.

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