Death And Dying Words Of Poor Mailie, Th（3 / 3）

  i lea'e my blessin wi' you baith:
  an' when you think upo' your mither,
  mind to be kind to ane anither.
  “now, honest hughoc, dinna fail,
  to tell my master a' my tale;
  an' bid him burn this cursed tether,
  an' for thy pains thou'se get my blather.”
  this said, poor mailie turn'd her head,
  and clos'd her een amang the dead! ↑返回顶部↑