And then they just sat there, without another word between them,
pressed close together.
A little song ran through the play--one of Burns's most famous
songs, although Maggie, who had never read anything, did not know
that. The verses were:
O my luve's like a red, red rose That's newly sprung in June: O my
luve's like the melodie That's sweetly played in tune!
As fair art thou, my bonnie lass, So deep in luve am I: And I will
luve thee still, my dear, Till a' the seas gang dry:
Till a' the seas gang dry, my dear, And the rocks melt wi' the sun;
I will luve thee still, my dear, While the sands o' life shall run.
And fare thee weel, my only Luve, And fare thee weel a while! And I
will come again, my Luve, Tho' it were ten thousand mile.
First the handsome soldier sang this to the Charity girl, and then,
because it was a sentimental tune, it was always turning up through
the play, and if one of the characters were not singing it the
orchestra was quietly playing it. Maggie loved it; she was not
sentimental but she was simple, and the tune seemed at once to
belong to herself and to Martin by natural right.
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