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Monday, October 22

TEXTURE OF THE SEASIDE

One morning I rambled down by the sea shore
The wind it did whistle and the waters did roar
I heard some fair maiden give a pitiful cry
It sounded so lonesome, it swept off on high.

I never will marry, I'll be no man's wife
I expect to live single all the days of my life.

The shells in the ocean shall be my death-bed
While the fish in deep water swim over my head
She cast her fair body in the water so deep
And closed her pretty blue eyes forever to sleep.

-traditional













St. Margarets Bay, Nova Scotia


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