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The wars are o'er, and I'm come hame,

and find thee ſtill true hearted,

Though poor in gear, we're rich in love,

and mair we' ſe ne'er be parted.

Quoth ſhe My Grandſire left me gowd,

a mailin plenih'd fairly;

And come my faithful ſodger lad,

thou' rt welcome to it dearly.

For gold the merchant plows the main ;

the farmer plows the manor ;

Bur glory is the ſodger's prize,

The ſodger's wealth is honour The brave poor ſodger ne'er deſpiſe,

nor count him as a ſtranger:

Remember, he's his country's ſtay,

in day and hour of danger.

LOVELY JEAN.

Of a' the airts the win can blaw

I dearly like the weſt:

For there the bonny laſſie lives,

The laſs that I love beſt.

Tho wild woods grow, and rivers row,

W' mony a hill between,

Baith day and night, my fancy's fight,

Is ever wi' my Jean.

I ſee her in the dewy flower,