the lass o ecclefechan(2 / 2)

o haud your tongue now, luckyng,

o haud your tongue and jauner

i held the gate till you i met,

syne i began to wander:

i tint my whistle and my sang,

i tint my peace and pleasure;

but your green graff, now luckyng,

wad airt me to my treasure.

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