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 Though Betsey she stuck close by Duncan,

Her features were mild, sweet and meek,

And fairer than the dewy roses,

The colours of this lass's cheek.

To be such assembly collected

They behaved a' wonderous weel;

There's none was more modest and decent,

Than they from auld Doune and the Mill.

But ane I do think was amang them,

For beauty none did her excel,

Like lillies and roses entwined,

Sweet Jessie she did bear the bell.

The town and the country were jovial,

And finely agree they did all,

And blythe as the lark in the morning,

When they did return frae the ball.

The lads and the lasses from Deanston,

And about Doune and the Mill,

Combin'd in good humour each other,

And parted a' friends o'er a gill.





Of a the airts the wind can blaw,

I dearly like the west,