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(370) Page 362 - Cowdenknowes
362 SONGS OF SCOTLAND.
While thus we spent our time, by turns,
Betwixt our flocks and play,
I envied not the fairest dame,
Though e'er so rich or gay.
Hard fate, that I should banished be,
Gang heavily, and mourn,
Because I loved the kindest swain
That ever yet was born.
He did oblige me every hour j
Could I but faithful be ?
He stawe my heart ; could I refuse
Whate'er he ask'd of me ?
My doggie, and my little kit
That held my wee soup whey,
My plaidie, brooch, and crookit stick,
May now lie useless by.
Adieu, ye Cowdenknowes, adieu !
Fareweel, a' pleasures there !
Ye gods, restore me to my swain —
Is a' I crave or care.
Oh, the brume, the bonnie, bonnie brume !
The brume o' the Cowdenknowes !
I wish I were with my dear swain,
With his pipe and my yowes !
COWDENKNOWES.
When summer comes, the swains on Tweed
Sing their successful loves ;
Around the ewes the lambkins feed,
And music fills the groves.

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