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POSTHUMOUS POEMS

Gin I may win to ye, Annie,
The tane o' us should weel fare.
There's three men keep the ways, Robert,
Between the gate and the water-stair.

I wot the night there's deep water,
Runs red upon the brim:
It's full between the wa's, Annie,
This were but ill to swim.

There's rain the night in Carrilees,
I wot the rain is rank;
There be twa fathoms of strang water
Between it bank and bank.

But he's rid out through Carrilees' brow,
I wot, baith wet and wan;
Annie lay in her chamber-window,
She was a glad woman.

Between the gate and the water-stair
He made him room to stand;
The wet ran frae his knees and feet,
It ran upon his hand.

And he's won through to her chamber,
He's kissed her neist the chin:
"O gin ye'll keep me out, Annie,
Is there ony will take me in?"

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