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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