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Shield him, ye angels. frae death in alarms,
Return him with laurels to my langing arms,
Syne frae all my care ye'll pleasantly free me,
When back to my wishes my sodger ye gi'e me.

O soon may his honours bloom fair on his brow,
As quickly they must. if he get his due:
For in noble actions his courage is ready,
Which makes me delight in my sodger laddie.

Ewe-bughts Marion.

Will ye go to the ewe-bughts, Marion,
And wear in the sheep wi' me?
The sun shines sweet, my Marion,
But nae half sae sweet as thee.

O Marion's a bonny lassie,
And the blythe blink's in her e'e;
And fain wad I marry Marion,
Gin Marion wad marry me.

There's gowd in your garters, Marion,
And silk on your white hause-bane;
An' fain wad I kiss my Marion,
At e'en when I come hame.

I've nine milk ewes, my Marion,

A cow and a brawney quey,