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 And as they walk’d, of love they talk’d, and joys which lovers crown'd.

And now the un had roe to noon, the zenith of his power, When to a hade their teps they made, to pas the mid-day hour. The bonny lad row’d in his plaid the las, who corn’d to frown; the oon forgot the ewes he fought, and he to gang to town.





Of all the days that’s in the year, The tenth of June I love mot dear ; And for his ake thee robes I’ll wear, For he alone is all my care, Young Jamie you call the Rover.

The fairet flowers of white and blue, I’ll wear a robe of that ame hue, All this and mere for him I’ll do. Young Jamie you call the Rover.