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* * * YOUNG Jamie, pride of a’ the plain, Sae gallant and sae gay a swain; Thro a’ our lasses he did rove, And reign’d resistless King of Love: But now wi’ sighs and starting tears, He strays amang the woods and briers; Or in the glens and rocky caves His sad complaining dowie raves: I wha sae late did range and rove. And changed with every moon my love, I little thought the time was near, Repentance I should buy sae dear; The slighted maids my torment see, And laugh at a’ the pangs I dree; While she, my cruel, scornfu’ fair, Forbids me e’er to see her mair! Robert Burns's other poems:
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