I ken'd Maggie weel ere she grew to a wife,
An' smiled in the sunshine o' a' its sweet life;
But, wae's me, a twalmonth had scarce gane to rest
Ere the green kirkyard sod was laid ow'r her young breast,
Leavin' to this cauld warld, to warsle its lane,
A wee feeble lifie they ca'd Maggie's wean.
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