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                                                Once on a morning of sweet recreation,
                                                I heard a fair lady amaking her moan,
                                                With sighing and sobbing and sad lamentation,
                                                Aye singing, "My Blackbird for ever is flown!
                                                He's all my heart's treasure, my joy and my pleasure,
                                                So justly my love my heart follows thee;
                                                And I am resolved, in foul or fair weather,
                                                To seek out my Blackbird, wherever he be.
                                                "I will go. a stranger, to peril and danger,
                                                My heart is so loyal in every degree;
                                                For he's constant and kind, and courageous in mind.
                                                Good luck to my Blackbird, wherever he be!
                                                In Scotland he's loved and deeply approved,
                                                In England a stranger he seemeth to be;
                                                But his name I'll advance in Britain or France.
                                                Good luck to my Blackbird, wherever he be!
                                                "The birds of the forest are all met together,
                                                The turtle is chosen to dwell with the dove,
                                                And I am resolved, in foul or fair weather,
                                                Once in the spring-time to seek out my love.
                                                But since fickle Fortune, which still proves uncertain,
                                                Hath caused this parting between him and me,
                                                His right I'll proclaim, and who dares me blame?
                                                Good luck to my Blackbird, wherever he be!" 
Footnote : An old Jacobite song - The Blackbird of the song is the exiled James Francis Stewart, The Old Pretender, the Jacobite James III and VIII.  This week sees the 284th anniversary of the dispersal by a storm of a Jacobite invasion-fleet which had sailed from Cadiz, Spain. Two ships reached Scotland but the 1719 Rising was short-lived and ended in failure at Glenshiel.   


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