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'Twas within a mile of Edinbro' town,

In the rosy time of the year;
Sweet flowers bloom’d, and the grass was down,
And each shepherd woo'd his dear.

Bonnie Jocky, blythe and gay,

Kiss'd sweet Jenny making hay:
The lassie blush'd, and frowning cried, “ No, no, it will not do ;
I cannot, cannot, wonnot, wonnot, mannot buckle to."

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In our cottage, that peeps from the skirts of the wood,

I am mistre, no mother have I;
Yet blithe are my days, for my father is good,

And kind is my lover, hard by:
They both work towether beneath the green shade,

Both wrodmen, my father and Joe;
Where I've listend whole hours to the echo that mado

So much of a laugh or Illo!

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From my basket at noon they expect their supply,

And with joy from my threshold I pring;
For the woodlands I love, and the oaks waving high,

Aud Echo that sings as I sing.
Though deep shades delight me vet love is my food,

As I call the dear name of my Joe;
His 11t1sical shout is the price of the wood,

And my heart leaps to hear the- Hallo!

Simple flowers of the grove, little birds, live at ease,

I wi-h not to wander fron 10u;
I'll still duell beneath the deep roar of your trees,

For I know that my Joe will be true.

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