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Then we'd cheer him loud and long,
O come my love! O come with me
This arm will guard—no guide need we,
I am not of thy clime nor creed,
Love makes these accidents, indeed,
Thine eyebrow is the vault of night—
Thy cheek the dusk of dawn;
My pretty bounding fawn!
Thy neck with rich brocade;
My pretty Indian Maid!
Then come, my love, O come with me,
And ere the braves awake,
Across the mighty lake;
Sweet flow'ret of the shade,
My lovely Indian Maid!
Then the elder ones would tell
Or that my ear is falsely strung,
"Lord Sempill's mounted on his steed,
And to the greenwood gone ;
And whispers Lady Jane.
But his lay she does not hear,
With hope, with doubt, and fear.
"' Thy father's halls are fair and wide, The Sempill woods are green;
But love can smile, O sweeter far,
In a Gipsy tent, I ween;
The rose by Elderslie,
The heather bell on Dee.
"'But I've built our bower beside the Gryffe,
Where hangs the hinny pear;
To match the vale of Weir.'
The bonnie wee birds sing,
Away with the Gipsy King!
"But the false page hurries to my Lord,
And the tale to him doth bear;
And away to the vale of Weir.
But gloamin's hour is long;
And mars the bridal song.
"' You've stolen the pride of my house and heart,
With thy spells and magic ring; Thy head goes at my saddle bow,
Wert thou thrice a Gipsy King.'"
And love knows no degree;
But I will not fight with thee/"
"The Gipsy reels on the bloody sod,
And the lady flies between;
Was meant for the Gipsy King. "' Oh! what have I done,' Lord Sempill cries,
And his sword away doth fling; "Arise, my daughter, oh! arise,
And wed with your Gipsy King."
He lifts her gently in his arms,
And holds her drooping head;
For the Lady Jane is dead.
With many a sigh and tear;