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Five hundred marks I'll give her,
Besides a piece of land;
But scarcely had he spoke the word,
Till I thought on Peggy Bawn.
Your offer, Sir, is very good,
And I thank you too, said I;
But I cannot be your son-law,
And I'll tell you the reason why:
My business calleth me in haste,
I am the king's servant bound,
And I must gang awa this day,
Straight to Edinburgh town.
Oh Peggy Bawn, thou art my own,
Thy heart lies in my breast,
And tho’ we at a distance are,
Yet I love thee best.
Altho' we at a distance are,
And the seas between us roar,
Yet I’ll be constant, Peggy Bawn,
To thee for evermore.
Lucy of the Vale.
I’ve search’d each cottage far and near,