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797                                              For Exmoor

FOR Exmoor
For Exmoor, where the red deer run, my weary heart
   doth cry:
She that will a rover wed, far her feet shall hie.
Narrow, narrow, shows the street, dull the narrow sky.
   -Buy my cherries, whiteheart cherries, good my masters,

For Exmoor
O he left me, left alone, aye to think and sigh
   Lambs feed down yon sunny coombe, hind and yearling shy
Mid the shrouding vapours walk now like ghosts on high.
   Buy my cherries, blackheart cherries, lads and lasses, buy!

For Exmoor
Dear my dear, why did ye so? Evil day have I;
Mark no more the antlerd stag, hear the curlew cry,
Milking at my fathers gate while he leans anigh.
   Buy my cherries, whiteheart, blackheart, golden girls, O


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