Meg
At sixteen years I was blue ans sad
then father said I should find a lad
So I set out to become a wife,
An' found the real love of my life
His name it was Chris, and the last was MacGill
I met him one night pickin' flowers on the hill
He had lots of charm an' a certain kind o' touch,
An a certain kind of eagerness that pleased me very much
so there 'neath the moon where romance often springs,
I gave him my heart--an' a few other things
I don't know how long that I stayed up on the hill,
But the moon had disappeared, and so had Christopher MacGill
So I went home an' I thought I'd die,
Till Father said, make another try
So out I went to become a wife,
An' found the real love of my lfe
He came from the lowlands, the lowlands said he
I saw him an' knew he was perfect for me
Jus' one thing that puzzled me an' it always will,
Was he told me he had heard about me from his friend MacGill
We quick fell in love an' went down by the creek
The next day he said he'd be back in a week,
An' I thought he would, for now how was I to know
That of all the lowland laddies, there was never one as low!
I told my father the awful truth
He said,