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Frank Patterson
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The Lass Of Aughrim
If you'll be the lass of Aughrim as I'm taking you mean to be tell me the first token that passed between you and me.
Oh don't you remember that bight on yon lean hill when we both met together which I'm sorry now to tell.
Oh the rain falls on my heavy locks and the dew wets my skin. My babe lies coold within my arms but none will let me in.
My babe lies coold within my arms but none will let me in.
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