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One morning in springtime as day was a dawning |
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Bright Phoebus had risen from over the lea |
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I spied a fair maiden as homeward she wandered |
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From herding her flocks on the hills of Glenshee |
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I stood in amazement, says I, "Pretty fair maid |
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If you will come down to St. John's Town with me |
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There's ne'er been a lady set foot in my castle |
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There's ne'er been a lady dressed grander than thee" |
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A coach and six horses to go at your bidding |
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And all men that speak shall say "ma'am unto thee |
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Fine servants to serve you and go at your bidding |
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I'll make you my bride, my sweet lass of Glenshee |
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"Oh what do I care for your castles and coaches? |
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And what do I care for your gay grandeury? |
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I'd rather be home at my cot, at my spinning |
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Or herding my flocks on the hills of Glenshee" |
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"Away with such nonsense and get up beside me |
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E'er summer comes on my sweet bride you will be |
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And then in my arms I will gently caress thee" |
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'Twas then she consented, I took her with me |
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Seven years have rolled on since we were united |
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There's many's a change, but there's no change on me |
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And my love, she's as fair as that morn on the mountain |
[04:20.21] |
When I plucked me a wild rose on the hills of Glenshee |