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 I left the lines and tented field, Where lang I had been a lodger, My humble knapsack a' my wealth, A poor, but honest sodger.

A leal light heart beat in my breast, My hard unstain'd wi' plunder, And for fair Scotia hame again, I cheery on did wander. I thought upon the banks o' Coil, I thought npon my Nancy, I thought upon the witching smile, That caught my youthful fancy.

At length I reach'd the bonny glen, Where early life I sported I passed the mill and trysting throrn, Whare Nancy aft I courted. Wha spied I but my ain dear maid, Down by her mother's dwelling, And turn'd me round to hide the flood, That in my e'e was swelling.

Wi' altered voice, quoth I, sweet maid, Sweet as yon hawthorn blossom, O happy happy may he be, That's dearest to thy bosom. My purse is light, I've far te gang,