Gibb Manuscript, p. 9. "From recitation; traced to Mary
Jack, Lochlee, Forfarshire, died 1881, aged 94."
| 1 |
Bonny May has to the ewe-bughts gane,
To milk her father's ewes,
An aye as she milked her bonny voice rang
Far out amang the knowes.
* * * * * |
| 2 |
'Milk on, milk on, my bonny, bonny may,
Milk on, milk on,' said he;
'Milk on, milk on, my bonny, bonny may;
Will ye shew me out-ower the lea?' |
| 3 |
'Ride on, ride on, stout rider,' she said,
'Yere steed's baith stout and strang;
For out o the eww-bught I daurna come,
For fear ye do me wrang.' |
| 4 |
But he's tane her by the milk-white hand,
An by the green gown-sleeve,
An he's laid her low on the dewy grass,
An at nae ane spiered he leave. |
| 5 |
Then he's mounted on his milk-white steed,
An ridden after his men,
An a' that his men they said to him
Was, Dear master, ye've tarried lang. |
| 6 |
'I've ridden east, an I've ridden wast,
An I've ridden amang the knowes,
But the bonniest lassie eer I saw
Was milkin her daddie's yowes.' |
| 7 |
She's taen the milk-pail on her heid,
An she's gane langin hame,
An a her father said to her
Was, Daughter, ye've tarried lang. |
| 8 |
'Oh, wae be to your shepherds! father,
For they take nae care o the sheep;
Fro they've bygit the ewe-bught far frae hame,
An they've trysted a man to me. |
| 9 |
'There came a tod unto the bucht,
An a waefu tod was he,
An, or ever he had tane that ae ewe-lamb,
I had rather he had tane ither three.' |
| 10 |
But it fell on a day, an a bonny summer day,
She was ca'in out her father's kye,
An bye came a troop o gentlemen,
Cam ridin siwftly bye. |
| 11 |
Out an spoke the foremost ane,
Says, Lassie hae ye got a man?
She turned herself saucy round about,
Says, Yes, I've ane at hame. |
| 12 |
'Ye lee, ye lee, ye my bonny may,
Saw loud as I hear ye lee!
For dinna ye mind that misty nicht
Ye were in the ewe-bughts wi me?' |
| 13 |
He ordered ane o his men to get down;
Says, Lift her up behind me;
Your father may ca in the kye when he likes,
They sall neer be ca'ed in by thee. |
| 14 |
'For I'm the laird o Athole swaird,
Wi fifty ploughs an three,
An I hae gotten the bonniest lass
In a' the north countrie.' |
