< Page:Posthumous poems (IA posthumousswinb00swin).pdf
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WESTLAND WELL
Ye maun mak' me a scarlet gown, Lord John,
A scarlet gown to the knee;
It maun be sewn wi' a gowd needle,
To mak' fit wear to me.
A scarlet gown to the knee;
It maun be sewn wi' a gowd needle,
To mak' fit wear to me.
It maun be sewn wi' a gowd needle,
And spun o' silk for thread;
And ye maun gie me a band of silk,
To tie upon my head.
And ye maun gie me a sheet of silk
To put into my bed.
And spun o' silk for thread;
And ye maun gie me a band of silk,
To tie upon my head.
And ye maun gie me a sheet of silk
To put into my bed.
O wha was't made ye proud, Janet,
Or ever ye were born?
There's nae gowd in the land, Janet,
Is redder than the corn.
Or ever ye were born?
There's nae gowd in the land, Janet,
Is redder than the corn.
O wha was't taught you words, Janet,
Or wha was't learned you pride?
There's mony a better face than yours
Would fain lie neist my side.
Or wha was't learned you pride?
There's mony a better face than yours
Would fain lie neist my side.
44
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