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7
I'm sure it's winter fairly;
Up in the morning &c.
The birds sit chattering on the thorn,
A day they fare but sparely;
And lang's the night frae e'en to morn
I'm sure it's winter fairly.
Up in the morning, &c.
AWAY WITH MELANCHOLY.
Away with melancholy,
Not do'eful changes ring;
On life and human folly,
But merrily, merrily sing.
Fal lal.
Come on ye rosy hours,
Gay smiling moments bring;
We'll strew the way with flowers,
And merrily, merrily sing,
Fal lal.