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O he's gone to yon tavern house,
An' ay he counted his lawin,
An' ay he drank to her guid health,
Was to meet him in the dawin'.

O he's gone to yon tavern house,
An' counted owre his lawin,
When in there cam' three armed men,
To meet him in the dawin'.

O, woe be unto woman's wit,
It has beguiled many!

She promised to come hersel'

But she sent three men to slay me!

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Get

up, get up, now sister Ann,

I fear we've wrought you sorrow; Get up, ye'll find your true love slain, Among the banks of Yarrow.

She sought him east, she sought him west, She sought him braid and narrow,

"Till in the clintin of a craig

She found him drown'd in Yarrow.

She's ta'en three links of her yellow hair, That hung down lang and yellow,

And she's tied it about sweet Willie's waist, An' drawn him out of Yarrow.

*

I made my love a suit of clothes,
I clad him all in tartan,
But ere the morning sun arose
He was a' bluid to the gartan.

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ROB ROY.

Tune-A RUDE SET OF MILL MILL O

Rob Roy from the Highlands cam Unto the Lawlan' border,

To steal awa a gay ladie,

To haud his house in order: He cam owre the lock o' Lynn, Twenty men his arms did carry; Himsel gaed in an' fand her out, Protesting he would marry.

O will

ye gae wi' me, he says,
Or will ye be my honey;
Or will ye be my wedded wife,
For I love you best of any:
I winna gae wi' you, she says,
Nor will I be your honey;
Nor will I be your wedded wife,

You love me for my money.

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But he set her on a coal-black steed,
Himsel lap on behind her;

An' he's awa to the Highland hills,

Whare her frien's they canna find her.

[The song went on to narrate the forcing her to bed; when the tnne changes to something like "Jenny dang the weaver."]

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Rob Roy was my father ca'd,
Macgregor was his name, ladie;
He led a band o' heroes bauld,
An' I am here the same ladie.

Be content, be content,

Be content to stay, ladie;
For thou art my wedded wife
Until thy dying day, ladie.

He was a hedge unto his frien's,
A heckle to his foes, ladie;
Every one that durst him wrang,
He took him by the nose, ladie.

I'm as bold, I'm as bold,

I'm as bold, an' more, ladie;

He that daurs dispute my word

Shall feel my guid claymore, lady.*

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* The history of Rob Roy the reader may find at great length in Maclaurin's Criminal Trials. He was the son of the Rob Roy Macgregor who figures in the Rebellion, 1715. The short account of him is this. He was outlawed by sentence of the Court of Justiciary in Scotland, in 1736, for not appearing to stand trial for the murder of a man of the name of Maclaren. In this state of outlawry, he formed the mad and desperate project of carrying off and forcibly accomplishing a marriage with Jane Key, heiress of Edinbelly, and thus getting possession of her estate. He and his brother James Macgregor, at the head of a band of armed ruffians, entered her mother's house, dragged her out, and tying her, hand and foot with ropes, laid her across a horse, and brought her in this situation to the house of one of their clan, in a wild and sequestered part of the mountains of Argyleshire; where, after some show of a marriage ceremony, she was put to bed, and forcibly compelled to submit to his embraces.

On a discovery of the place of her concealment she was rescued by her relations, and Rob Roy, and his brother James, were tried capitally for the crime. James made his escape from prison before sentence, was outlawed in consequence, and some years afterwards obtained a pardon. Rob Roy was condemned and executed, February, 1753.

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