Robert Burns


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O SAW ye my dear, my Phely?
O saw ye my dear, my Phely?
Shes down i the grove, shes wi a new love,
  She winna come hame to her Willy.

What says she, my dearest, my Phely?
What says she, my dearest, my Phely?
She lets thee to wit that she has thee forgot,
  And for ever disowns thee, her Willy.

O had I neer seen thee, my Phely!
O had I neer seen thee, my Phely!
As light as the air, and fause as thous fair,
  Thoust broken the heart o thy Willy.




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