Lass Of Cessnock Banks, The(4/5)
her lips are like yon cherries ripe,
that sunny walls from boreas s;
they tempt the taste and charm the sight;
an' she has tarkling roguish een.
her teeth are like a flock of sheep,
with fleeewly washen ,
that slowly mount the rising steep;
an' she has tarkling roguish een.
her breath is like the fragrant breeze,
that gently stirs the blossom'd bean,
when phoebus sinks behind the seas;
an' she has tarkling roguish een.
her voice is like the ev'ning thrush,
that sings on ock
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