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(373) Page 355 - Meg Meiklejohn
355
It's naething but a sword, lassie !
A bluidy, bluidy ane !
Waving owre poor Scotland,
For her rebellious sin.
Scotland's a' -vvrang, lassie,
Scotland's a' wrang —
It's neither to the hiU nor glen,
Lassie, we daur gang.
The Martyrs' Hill's forsaken,
In simmer's dusk sae calm ;
There's nae gathering now, lassie.
To sing the e'ening psalm !
But the martyr's grave will rise, lassie,
Aboon the warrior's cairn ;
An' the martyr soun' will sleep, lassie,
Aneath the waving fern !
MEG MEIKLEJOHN.
Ye kentna Meg Meiklejohn, midwife in Mauchlin i
She was the widow of lilti-cock Lauchlan ;
He was a body gaed rockin' and rowin' —
His ae leg was stracht — its neibour a bow in't.
IS boussie frae croon to the causey,
Lauchie was gizen'd 's an auld girnal bassie ;
And as for their features, folk said it that kent them.
If nature meant sour anes, she needna repent them.

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