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THERE liv'd a wife in Whistle-cockpen Will ye na can ye na let me be; She brews gude yill for gentleman, And ay she waggit it wantonlie. The night blew sair wi' wind and weet, Will ye na, &c. She shaw'd the traveller ben to sleep, And ay, &c.
She saw a sight below his sark, Will ye na, &c. She wadna wanted it for a mark, And ay, &c. She saw a sight aboon his knee, Will ye na, &c. She wad na wanted it, for three, And ay, &c. O whare live ye, and what's your trade? Will ye na, &c. I am a thresher gude, he said, And ay, &c. And that's my flail and workin' graith, Will ye na, &c. And noble tools, quo' she, by my faith! And ay, &c. I wad gie a browst, the best I hae, Will ye na, &c.
For a gude darge o' graith like thae, And ay, &c. I wad sell the hair frae aff my tail, Will ye na, &c. To buy our Andrew siccan a flail," And ay, &c.
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