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* * * There lives a young lassie Far down yon lang glen; How I lo'e that lassie There's nae ane can ken! O! a saint's faith may vary. But faithful I'll be; For weel I lo'e Mary, An' Mary lo'es me. Red, red as the rowan Her smiling wee mou'; An' white as the gowan Her breast and her brow! Wi' a foot o' a fairy She links o'er the lea; O! weel I lo'e Mary, An' Mary lo'es me. She sings sweet as onie Wee bird of the air, And she's blithe as she's bonnie. She's guid as she's fair; Like a lammie sae airy And artless is she, O! weel I lo'e Mary, And Mary lo'es me! Where yon tall forest timmer, An' lowly broom bower, To the sunshine o' simmer Spread verdure an' flower; There, when night clouds the cary, Beside her I'll be; For weel I lo'e Mary, And Mary lo'es me. John Imlah's other poems: Распечатать (Print) Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1187 |
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