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THE FIRE OP FEENDRAUGHT. |
179 |
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Said,—" Stay this night untill we sup,
The morn untill we dine ; 10
'Twill be a token of good 'greement 'Twixt your good Lord and mine."
" We'll turn again," said good Lord John ;—
" But no," said Rothiemay,— " My steed's trapan'd, my bridle's broken, is
I fear the day I'm fey."
"When mass was sung, and bells was rung,
And all men bound for bed, Then good Lord John and Rothiemay
In one chamber was laid. r a>
They had not long cast off their cloaths,
And were but now asleep, When the weary smoke began to rise,
Likewise the scorching heat.
" O waken, waken, Eothiemay ! 25
O waken, brother dear! And turn you to our Saviour;
There is strong treason here."
When they were dressed in their cloaths,
And ready for to boun, 30
The doors and windows was all secur'd, The roof-tree burning down. |
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