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Rhymes and Recollections of a Hand-Loom Weaver

By William Thom. Edited, with a Biographical Sketch, by W. Skinner

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THE LASS WI' THE WANDERIN' E'E.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
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THE LASS WI' THE WANDERIN' E'E.

Oh! wha that sang yon sang to me,
That I can ne'er forget?
What is't that aucht yon lo'esome e'e?
Sae weel's I see it yet!
An' cam she frae the far, far east,
The lass wi' the wanderin' e'e;
The heart lay tremblin' in my breast
To the sang she sung to me!
“Haud doun sic hope ye fond, fond man,
For loveless is her strain;
She feasts on hearts aroun' her fa'in,
Yet scaithless keeps her ain.
She laughs to ken the bleed-drap fa',
An' gladdens at ilka woun';
Oh, turn your wishfu' heart awa',
There's wae in yon sweet soun'!

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“I maunna mind what may betide—
Oh! send that maid to me,
An' place her near this beating side,
Sae like to gar me dee;
For I would feast on her fair look
An' lavish on her sang;—
Her dark e'e is a holy book
In whilk I read nae wrang.”