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Rh Yet Monday laſt, for a’ my keeping,

I canna ſpeak it without greeting,

A villain came when I was ſleeping,

And ſtaw my ewie, horn and a’. The ewie, &c.

I ſought her fair upon the morn,

And down beneath a buſs of thorn

I got my ewie’s crooked horn,

But, ah! my ewie was awa’. The ewie, &c.

But an’ I had the lown that did it,

I’ve ſworn and bann’d, as well as ſaid it,

Tho’ a’ the world ſhou’d forbid it,

I ſhou’d gie his neck a thraw. The ewie, &c.

I never met wi’ ſie a turn

As this ſince ever I was born,

My ewie wi' the crooked horn,

Peur ſilly ewie, ſtown awa’.

The ewie, &c.

O had ſhe died of crook or cauld,

As ewies die when they grow auld,

It wadna been, by mony fauld,

So fair a heart to ane o’s a’. The ewie, &c.