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Mourn, Saylan, mourn oh!
Mourn, Saylan, mourn;
I come to town to see you hang, hang, you mus' be hang.

An' the gal cry to her sister an' brother an' lover, an' they give her answer:

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Sister, you bring me some silver?
No, my child, I bring you none.
Brother, you bring me some gold?
No, my child, I bring you none.
Lover, you bring me some silver?
Yes, my dear, I bring you some.
Lover, you bring me some gold?
Yes, my dear, I bring you some.
I come to town to see you save, save you mus' be saved.

An' the lover bring a buggy an' carry her off an' save her life at last.

An' the mumma say:—"You never better, tuffa."

Jack Mantora me no choose any.

NOTES.