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‹‹‹ prev (214) Page 88Page 88Highlander's farewell

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(215) Page 89 - Smuggler
•I' HE SJttlGGLER.
89
Air, 'The lads o 1 L.endatfit.
The boat rifles south o' Ail_s.i eraig In the doup— in' o' Ihe
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iiM ^j Jlifl -P iigg
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light; There's thret_ty men at Lcn-dal- lit To mak her hiir-den lit»h<.
There's thretty naigs in Hazel- holm,
Wi' the halter on their head,
"Will cadg'd this night, ayont yon hijrht.
If wind and water speed.
F\, reek ye out the pat an' spit,
For the roast, but an' the boil,
For -wave— worn wight it is nae meet,
Spare feeding- and sair toil.
O Mnngo, yeve a cozie bield,
Wi' a butt ay an' a ben;
Can ye no live a lawfu' lite,
An' ligg wi' lawfu men;
Crae blaw your win aneath your |>at,
It's blawn awa on me.
For, bag' an' bark, shall be my wark
t T ntill the <lay I die.
Matin I baud by our hameart goods
An' loreign gear sae fine?
Maun 1 drink at the water 'wini
An' France sae rife o' wine?
O weel I like to see thee, K.ate,
Wi' the bairnie on thy knee?
But my heart is now wi' yon gallant crew.
That push through the angry sea.
The jauping weet, the stented sheet.
The south— west stiftest gowl,
On a moonless night, il the timmer's tight,.
Are the joys o' a Smuggler's soul.

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