8
Dear lad gin ye'll be leel and true,
Ther'es nane I like sae weel as you,
Sae there's my hand I swear and vow.
For life to be your ain.
Now there's my loof in thine lad,
In thine lad in thine lad,
In hopes you will prove kind, lad
and tak me for your ain.
FAR, FAR AT SEA
'Twas at night when the bell had toll'd twelve,
And poor Susan was laid on her pillow,
In her ear ewhisper'd some fleeting elve,
Your love is now toss'd on a billow,
Far, Far at sea,
All was dark as she woke out of breath,
Not an object her fears could discover;
All was still as the silence of death,
Save fancy, which painted her lover.
Far Far at sea.
So she whisper'd a pray'r———clos'd her eyes.
But the phantom still haunted her pillow,
While in terror she echoed his cries,
As struggling he sunk in the billow,
Far, Far at sea.
FINIS.
