A WEARY LOT IS THINE, FAIR MAID.
(From "Rokeby," Canto III.)
A weary lot is thine, fair niaid, ^ I A weary lot is thine! To pull the tborn thy broff to I And press the rue for wine. I A lightsome eye, a soldier s 1111 ' H' A feather of tlie blue I A doublet of the Lincoln green, I No more of mo you knew, I My Love! I No more of me you Lnf " I This morn is merry June, II | The rose is budding 1'"'.ir su0*, I But she shall bloom in ^ j Ere we two maet again- I He turn'd his charger as 1 Upon the river shore, I He rave the bridle-reins ■ SOd "Adicu lor | My Love ! » I And, Adieu for evcrrnore. ^ ^ I cL.lt "Pqetical W0^ -S Sir Walter Scott, [
Permanent link to this item
https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/periodicals/DIGRSA19200528.2.47
Bibliographic details
Digger (Invercargill RSA), Issue 11, 28 May 1920, Page 12
Word Count
135A WEARY LOT IS THINE, FAIR MAID. Digger (Invercargill RSA), Issue 11, 28 May 1920, Page 12
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