| An earthly nourris sits and sings
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| And aye she sings 'Ba lily wain
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| And little ken I my bairn’s father
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| Far less the land that he dwells in'
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| Then one arose at her bedfoot
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| And a grumbly guest I’m sure was he
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| Saying here am I, thy bairn’s father
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| Although I be not comely
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| I am a man upon the land
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| I am a silkie on the sea
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| And when I’m far and far frae land
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| My home it is in Sules Skerry
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| And he has ta’en a purse of gold
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| And he has placed it upon her knee
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| Saying give to me my little young son
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| And take thee up thy nurse’s fee
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| And it shall come tae pass on a summer’s day
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| When the sun shines bright on every stone
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| I’ll come and fetch my little young son
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| And teach him how to swim the foam
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| And you, you shall marry a pround gunner
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| And a proud gunner I’m sure he’ll be
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| But the very first shot that e’er he shoots
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| He’ll kill both my young son and me |