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 My maidens all hall wear the ame,

Six boys in white hail bear his train,

While I alone his praie proclaim,

The titles of Jamie the Rover.

All in tartan my love hall be dret,

With a diamond tar upon his bread.

And of the ret I’ll count him the bet,

Young Jamie you call the Rover.

Tho’ ome call him a bricklayer’s on,

But I ay he is nobly born,

For to the royal he does belong.

Young Jamie you call the Rover.

I need not trange at Nature’s change,

Tho’ he abroad be forc’d to range,

I'll find him out where he remains,

Young Jamie you call the Rover.

It is not in England I delight,

But over to Flanders I’ll take my flight,

And there I'll ramble both day and night,

With Jamie you call the Rover.

O if I were on the top of yon tree,

Where none they would hear nor ee,

Then I would ing right cheerfully,

With Jamie you call the Rover.