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I've heard on Teviot of a shepherd's dog |
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Outlaw'd for sheep-stealing, whose talents quite |
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Defied the power of collar, chain, or clog, |
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To keep him in his master's yard at night. |
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He did not kill his victims, but would bite |
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A morsel of their hearts, and drink their blood; |
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Then scour away to let them die outright |
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As much at leisure as they pleas'd or could, |
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Till he got shot, a fate much for the brute too good. |