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My maidens all ſhall wear the ſame,
Six boys in white ſhail bear his train,
While I alone his praiſe proclaim,
The titles of Jamie the Rover.

All in tartan my love ſhall be dreſt,
With a diamond ſtar upon his bread.
And of the reſt I’ll count him the beſt,
Young Jamie you call the Rover.

Tho’ ſome call him a bricklayer’s ſon,
But I ſay he is nobly born,
For to the royal he does belong.
Young Jamie you call the Rover.

I need not ſtrange at Nature’s change,
Tho’ he abroad be forc’d to range,
I'll find him out where he remains,
Young Jamie you call the Rover.

It is not in England I delight,
But over to Flanders I’ll take my flight,
And there I'll ramble both day and night,
With Jamie you call the Rover.

O if I were on the top of yon tree,
Where none they would hear nor ſee,
Then I would ſing right cheerfully,
With Jamie you call the Rover.