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are heard afar, The battle closes deep and bloody. It's not the roar o' sea or shore Wad mak me langer wish to tarry, Nor shouts o' war that's heard afar: It's leaving thee, my bonie Mary! 10. _Of a' the Airts._ I. Of a' the airts the wind can blaw I dearly like the west, For there the bonie lassie lives, The lassie I lo'e best. There wild woods grow, and rivers row, And monie a hill between, But day and night my fancy's flight Is ever wi' my Jean. II. I see her in the dewy flowers-- I see her sweet and fair. I hear her in the tunefu' birds-- I hear her charm the air. There's not a bonie flower that springs By fountain, shaw, or green, There's not a bonie bird that sings, But minds me o' my Jean. 11. _John Anderson my Jo._ I. John Anderson my jo, John, When we were first acquent, Your locks were like the raven, Your bonie brow was brent; But now your brow is beld, John, Your locks are like the snaw, But blessings on your frosty pow, John Anderson my jo! II. John Anderson my jo, John, We clamb the hill thegither, And monie a cantie day, John, We've had wi' ane anither; Now we maun totter down, John, And hand in hand we'll go, And sleep thegither at the foot, John Anderson my jo! 12. _Ae Fond Kiss._ I. Ae fond kiss, and then we sever! Ae farewell, and then forever! Deep in heart-wrung tears I'll pledge thee, Warring sighs and groans I'll wage thee. Who shall say that Fortune grieves him, While the star of hope she leaves him? Me, nae cheerfu' twinkle lights me, Dark despair around benights me. II. I'll ne'er blame my partial fancy: Naething could resist my Nancy! But to see her was to love her, Love but her, and love for ever. Had we never lov'd sae kindly, Had we never lov'd sae blindly, Never met--or never parted-- We had ne'er been broken-hearted. III. Fare-thee-weel, thou first and fairest! Fare-thee-weel, thou best and dearest! Thine be ilka joy and treasure, Peace, Enjoyment, Love, and Pleasure! Ae fond kiss, and then we sever! Ae farewell, alas, for ever! Deep in heart-wrung tears I'll pledge thee, Warring sighs and groans I'll wage thee. 13. _Ye Flowery Banks._ I. Ye flowery banks o' bonie Doon, How can ye blume sae fair? How can ye chant, ye little birds, And I sae fu' o' care? II. Thou'll break my heart, thou bonie bird, That sings upon the bough: Thou minds me o' the happy
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