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Rest, ye wild storms, in the cave of your slumbers,
How your dread howling lover alarms
Wauken ye breezes, row gently ye lows,
And waft my dear ladie ance mair in my arms

But oh, if he's faithless and mind nae Nannie,
Flow still between us, thou wide-roa(illegible text) m
May I never see it, may I never trow
But, dying, believe that my Willie's ain.