The weather it is clear, and the wind blaws fair,

And yonder a boy rins bonnie,

And he is awa to the gates of Hye,

With a letter to my dear ladie.

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The first line that she lookit on,

She was baith red and rosy;

She droppit down, and she dropt in a swoon,

Crys, Och and alace for Geordie!

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