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 98 BURNS

The boat rocks at the pier o' Leith, Fu' loud the wind blaws frae the ferry,

The ship rides by the Berwick-law, And I maun leave my bonnie Mary.

The trumpets sound, the banners fly,

The glittering spears are ranked ready, The shouts o' war are heard afar,

The battle closes thick and bloody; But it's no the roar o' sea or shore

Wad mak me langer wish to tarry, Nor shout o' war that's heard afar,

It's leaving thee, my bonnie Mary.

��XLV DEVOTION

O MARY, at thy window be,

It is the wished, the trysted hour! Those smiles and glances let me see,

That mak the miser's treasure poor.

How blythely wad I bide the stoure, A weary slave frae sun to sun,

Could I the rich reward secure, The lovely Mary Morison !

Yestreen, when to the trembling string The dance gaed through the lighted ha',

To thee my fancy took its wing, I sat, but neither heard or saw :

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