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NOR IS LOVE SOLD
'You've bought me with your gold,' she said,
'You've bought me with your gold;
Upon this breast you lay your head;
I would this breast were cold,' she said;
'I would this breast were cold
In churchyard mould.'
'But O! I love him well,’ she said,
'But O! I love him well—
So well I would that I were dead,
And laid in narrow cell,' she said;
'And laid in narrow cell,
For life is hell.'
'Bodies are bought for gold,' she said,