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CRAIGO WOODS
49
And the braw reid puddock-stales are like jewels
blinkin’
And the bramble happs ye baith,
O what do I see, i’ the lang nicht, lyin’ an’ thinkin’
As I see yer wraith—yer wraith ?
There’s a road to a far-aff land, an’ the land is
yonder
Whaur a’ men’s hopes are set;
We dinna ken foo lang we maun hae to wander.
But we’ll a’ win to it yet;
An’ gin there’s woods o’ fir an’ the licht atween
them,
I winna speir its name.
But I’ll lay me doon by the puddock-stules when
I’ve seen them.
An’ I’ll cry “ I’m hame—I’m hame !”

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