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 But still I‘ll wait and ne'er repine.

While fortune still may on me shine,

An‘ bring him back to mak him mine,

An' never leave his dearie, O.

While thus she sang an' made a mane,

Waefu' sitting a‘ her lane,

Her lad unken'd come back again,

The lad she Lo‘d sae dearly, O.

But still she sang, my, &c.

While there he kiss'd her cherry mou,

Her wonted colour frae her flew,

An' half o'ercome her Donald knew,

That lo'ed her ever dearly, O.

An' then she sang, my, &c.

There many a blush glow'd on her cheek,

A tear did then her love bespeak,

An' baith their hearts did fondness beat.

That each had found their dearie, O.

Nae mair she sang, my, &c.

An' now behind the hawthorn tree,

Baith they live frae sorrow free,

An' never till the day she'll die.

She'll sing again sae eerie, O.

O! where is gane, my, &c.