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 Your clouted hose I cannot wear,

Your mended shoes I can't endure,

And for your lordship I am not sure,

So I never shall be your dearie, O.

The deil pick out your twa black een,

I wish your face I ne'er had seen,

For you are a proud and saucy queen,

And never shall be my dearie, O.

I am a noble lord of high renown,

I am great Argyle when I came to town,

But my blue bonnet has fallen down,

And you never shall be my dearie, O.

O pardon, pardon, Argyle, allow,

For what I've done in saying so,

To the highland hills with you I'll go,

I long to be your dearie, O.

There is not a whore in London town

Shall set a foot on Campbell's ground,

For I am related to the crown,

And you never shall be my dearie, O.

I am a noble lord of great renown,

I am great Argyle when I come to town;

While drums do beat, and trumpets sound,

You never shall be my dearie, O.

I wish I had you in Lancashire,

To follow me through dub and mire,