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 THE HIGHLAND PLAID,

lassie, wilt thou go, Where the hills are clad wi snow, Where, beneath the icy steep The hardy shepherd tends his sleep? Ill nor wae shall thee betide, When row'd within my Highland plaid.

Soon the voice of cherry Spring Vill gur a' our plantings ring: Soon our bonny heather braes Will put on their simmer claes: In the mountain's sunny side, We'll lean us on my Highland plaid.

Then the summer spreads the flowers, Musks the glens in easy bow'rs, Then we'll seek the caller shade, than us on the prinose bed: While the burning hours preside, screen thee wi' my Highland plaid.

When we'll leave the sheep and goat, Will launch the bonny boat,