Читать книгу Poems and Songs of Robert Burns - Robert Burns - Страница 81

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Tune—“John Anderson, my jo.”

One night as I did wander,

When corn begins to shoot,

I sat me down to ponder

Upon an auld tree root;

Auld Ayr ran by before me,

And bicker'd to the seas;

A cushat crooded o'er me,

That echoed through the braes

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