  The kye are come hame, But I see not my hinny, The kye are come hame, But I see not my bairn: I’d rather lose all the kye Than lose my hinny, I’d rather lose all the kye Than lose my bairn. Fair fac’d is my hinny, His blue eyes are bonny, His hair in curl’d ringlets Hang sweet to the sight; O mount the old poney, Seek after my hinny, And bring to his mammy Her only delight. |
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