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the ldier&039;s return

air—“the ill, ill, o”

when wild war&039;s deadly bst was bwn,

and ntle peace returng,

wi&039; ony a sweet babe fatherless,

and ony a widow ourng;

i left the les and tented field,

where ng i&039;d been a lodr,

y huble knapsack a&039; y wealth,

a poor and honest dr

a leal, light heart was y breast,

y hand unsta&039;d wi&039; pnder;

and for fair stia ha aga,

i cheery on did wander:

i thought upon the banks o&039; il,

i thought upon y nancy,

i thought upon the witchg sile

that caught y youthful fancy

at length i reach&039;d the bonie glen,

where early life i sported;

i pass&039;d the ill and trystg thorn,

where nancy aft i urted:

wha spied i but y a dear aid,

down by her other&039;s dwellg!

and turn&039;d round to hide the flood

that y een was swellg

wi&039; alter&039;d voice, h i, “sweet ss,

sweet as yon hawthorn&039;s blos,

o! happy, happy ay he be,

that&039;s dearest to thy bo:

y purse is light, i&039;ve far to gang,

and fa would be thy lodr;

i&039;ve serv&039;d y kg and untry ng—

take pity on a dr”

sae wistfully she gaz&039;d on ,

and lovelier was than ever;

o&039; she, “a dr ance i lo&039;ed,

fet hi shall i never:

our huble t, and haly fare,

ye freely shall partake it;

that galnt bad—the dear ckade,

ye&039;re wele for the sake o&039;t”

she gaz&039;d—she redden&039;d like a rose—

syne pale like only lily;

she sank with y ars, and cried,

“art thou y a dear willie?”

“by hi who ade yon sun and sky!

by who true love&039;s regarded,

i a the an; and th ay still

true lovers be rewarded

“the wars are o&039;er, and i&039; e ha,

and fd thee still true-hearted;

tho&039; poor ar, we&039;re

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