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Yestreen I made my bed fu' braid
 * The night I'll mak' it narrow;

or a' the live-lang winter's night,
 * I lie twin'd o' my marrow.

O came you by yon water side,
 * Pu'd you the rose and lily?

Or came you by yon meadow green,
 * Or saw you my sweet Willy?

She sought him east, she sought him west,
 * She sought him broad and narrow,

Byne in the clifting o' a craig
 * She fand him drown'd in Yarrow.

How hard's the fate of womankind,
 * When I think on't, for a' that;

Though they meet a laddie to their mind,
 * They darena tell't, for a' that,
 * For a' that, and a' that,
 * And twice as meikle's a' that;
 * Though they lo'e the laddie e'er sae weel.
 * They dare na tell, for a' that.

The warld's sae censorious grown,
 * When I think on't, for a' that.