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the laird o’ drum / the hare in the corn - lorre wyatt lyrics

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oh, the laird o’ drum has a*walking gone
on one morning early; *
he has spied a well*favored lass
shearing her father’s barley

“oh, would you nae be a gentleman’s wife?
would you nae fancy me*o”
would you nae be of some higher degree
an let your shearing be*o?”

“yes, i would be a gentleman’s wife
and i would fancy thee*o;
but i cannae wear silk that rustles at the knee
nor make a cup of tea*o

“my father is a poor shepherd man
with sheep on yonder hill*o;
you may go thеre and ask of him
i’m always at his will*o.”

“my daughter can neithеr read nor write
she was never at a school*o;
but any other thing right well can she do
for i learned the lassie myself*a.”

“it’s who will bake our bridal cake
and who will brew the ale*o;
and who will welcome my bonnie lassie home
is more than i can tell*o.”
“oh, the baker can bake the bridal cake
the brewer can brew the ale*o;
if no one welcomes your bonnie lassie home
welcome her in yourself*a.”

four and twenty fine gentlemen
stood at the gates of drum*o;
but no one lifted his hat from his head
to welcome the bonnie lassie in*o

then up and spoke his brother john
an angry man was he*o;
“you’ve married a wife this sad, sorry night
and she’s not a match for thee*o.”

“oh, the last lady i had in this house
was far above our degree*o;
i dared not enter into her room
’til my hat was below my knee*o.”

he has ta’en her by the hand
and gently led her in*o;
saying, “welcome home, my lady of drum
for this is all your own*o.”

“i told you, my laird, ere we came here
was not of your degree*o;
but now we are wed and lying in one bed
i’m just as good as thee*o.”
“for if you were dead and i were dead
and both laid in one grave*o
nine years down and lifted up again
who’s to know your dust from mine*o?”

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