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 Gae back the gait ye cam again,

I winna let ye in, jo.

I tell you now this ae night.

This ae, ae, ae night;

And ance for a’ this ae night,

I winna let ye in, jo.

The snellest blast, at mirkest hours,

That round the pathless wand'rer pour

Is nocht to what poor she endures,

That’s trusted faithless man, jo.

I tell you now, &c.

The sweetest flower that deck’d the mead,

Now trodden like the vilest weed;

Let simple maid the lesson read,

The weird may be her ain, jo.

I tell thee now, &c.

The bird that charm’d his summer-day

Is now the cruel fowler’s prey;

Let witless, trusting, woman say

How aft her fate’s the same, jo,

I tell thee now, &c.