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Changed I am, sighed Willie till her, Changed, nae doubt, as changed can be : Yet, alas, does Jeanie Miller Nought of Willie Gairlace see ?

Ha’e ye marked the dews of morning Glittering in the sunny ray, Quickly fa’, whan, without warning, Rough blasts cam’ and shook the spray.

Ha’e you seen the bird fast fleeing Drap, when pierced by death mail fleet ? Then see Jean, wi’ colour deeing, Senseless drap at Willie’t feet.

After three king years’ affliction, (A' their waes now hushed to rest,) Jean ance mair, in fond affection, Clasps her Willie to her breast.

Tells him a’ her sad, sad sufferings, How she wandering, starving, poor, Gleaning Pity’s scanty offerings, Wi’ three bairns frae door to door. How she served—and toiled—and fevered. Lost her health and syne her bread ; how that grief, when scarce recovered, look her brain, and turned her head.

how she wandered round the country, Mony a live lang night her lane ; Till at last an angel’s bounty Brought her senses back again.