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they fparkle like dimonds or ftars in the fkys, Her pretty nett carriage is very complite, and her lips are like rubbish, and her kiffes fweet. Her neet leg and foot, it trips over the plain, it wounds every young man that beholds the fame. Her pretty neet body and like ways it’s fmall, fhe’s mild and fhe's modeft and comley with all. But as for her perfon I do not mind that. fhe has portion enough fhe has beauty and witt, She’s a charming fine creature what can I fay more, there’s none in this world but her I adore. But becaufe I’m a ftranger fine will no pity take, and here I muft languifh and die for her fake, I'm a journey-man Wiver and that is my tread; and here I muft languifh and die for this maid. But now I’ll take courage and crofs over the main, Perhaps longer abfence her favour may gain, And that if I chance to fee Scotland again, I’ll come back and vifit the flower of Stratblain. The Parfon’s Daughter.

THere was a parfon’s daugher, fome ca’s her Jermy Bell, She takes a ftart into the dark, but alas fhe durft not tell. She takes a Hart into the dark, and ay fo prettily, Till once fhe was difcovered, by the youngeft of the three. She cry’d her back and both her fides, alas, what fhall I do. I’ve ta'n a pain unto my brek, my trouble will not hide.