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 * Nobody coming to marry me,
 * Nobody coming to woo.

My father's a hedger and ditcher,
 * My mother does nothing but spin,

And I'm a pretty young girl,
 * But the money comes slowly in.
 * Oh dear, &c.

They say I am beauteous and fair,
 * They say I am scornful and bold,

Alas! I must now despair,
 * For ah! I am grown, very old.
 * Oh! dear, &c.

And now I must die an old maid,
 * Oh dear, how shocking the thought!

And all my beauty must fade,
 * But I'm sure it's not my fault.
 * Oh! dear, &c.

ROSLIN CASTLE.

' in that season of the year, When all things gay and sweet appear, That Colin, with the morning ray, Arose and sung his rural lay. Of Nannie's charms the shepherd sung,