| 1 |
At Mill of Tifty lived a man,
In the neighbourhood of Fyvie;
He had a luvely daughter fair,
Was call d bonny Annie. |
| 2 |
Her bloom was like thr springing flower
That hails the rosy morning,
With innocence and graceful mein
Her beautous form adorning. |
| 3 |
Lord Fyvie had a trumpeter
Whose name was Andrew Lammie;
He had the art to gain the heart
Of Mill of Tifty's Annie. |
| 4 |
Proper he was, both young and gay,
His like was not in Fyvie,
Nor was ane there that could compare
With this same Andrew Lammie. |
| 5 |
Lord Fyvie he rode by the door
Where liv d Tifty's annie;
His trumpeter rode him before,
Even this same Andrew Lammie. |
| 6 |
Her mother called her to the door;
'Come here to me, my Annie:
Did eer you see a prettier man
Than the trumpeter of Fyvie?' |
| 7 |
Nothing she said, but sighing sore,
Alas for Bonnie Annie!
She durst not own her heart was won
By the trumpeter of Fyvie. |
| 8 |
At night when all went to their bed,
All slept full soon but Annie;
Love so oppresst her tender breast,
Thinking on Andrew Lammie. |
| 9 |
'Love comes in at my bed-side,
And love lies down beyond me;
Love has possest my tender breast,
And love will waste my body. |
| 10 |
'The first time me and my love met
Was in the woods of Fyvie;
His lovely form and speech so soft
Soon gaind the heart of Annie. |
| 11 |
'He called me mistress;I said, No,
I'm Tifty's bonny Annie;
With apples sweet he did me treat,
And kisses soft and mony. |
| 12 |
'It's up and down in Tifty's den,
Where the burn runs clear and bonny,
I've often gane to meet my love,
My bonny Andrew Lammie.' |
| 13 |
But now alas! her father heard
That the trumpeter of Fyvie
Had had the art to gain the heart
Of Mill of Tifty's Annie. |
| 14 |
Her father soon a letter wrote,
And sent it on to Fyvie,
To tell his daughter was bewitchd
By his servant, Andrew Lammie. |
| 15 |
Then up the stair his trumpeter
He call d soon and shortly:
'Pray tell me soon what's this you've done
To Tifty's bonny Annie.' |
| 16 |
'Woe be to Mill of Tifty's pride,
For it has ruined many;
They'll not have 't said that she should wed
The trumpeter of Fyvie. |
| 17 |
'In wicked art I had no part,
Nor therein am I canny;
True love alone the heart has won
Of Tifty's bonnie Annie. |
| 18 |
'Where will I find a boy so kind
That will carry a letter canny,
Who will run to Tifty's town,
Give it to my love Annie? |
| 19 |
'Tifty he has daughters three
Who all are wonderous bonny;
But ye'll ken her oer a' the rest;
Give that to bonny Annie. |
| 20 |
'It's up and down in Tifty's den,
Where the burn runs clear and bonny,
There wilt thou come and I'll attend;
My love, I long to see thee. |
| 21 |
'Thou mayst come to the brig of Slugh,
And there I'll come and meet thee;
It's there we will renew our love,
Before I go and leave you. |
| 22 |
'My love, I go to Edinburgh town,
And for a while must leave thee;'
She sighed sore, and said no more
But 'I wish that I were with you!' |
| 23 |
'I'll buy to thee a bridal gown,
My love, I'll buy it bonny;'
'But I'll be dead ere ye come back
To see your bonny Annie.' |
| 24 |
'If ye'll be true and constant too,
As I am Andrew Lammie,
I shall thee wed when I come back
To see the lands of Fyvie.' |
| 25 |
'I will be true and constant too
To thee, my Andrew Lammie,
But my bridal bed or then'll be made
In the green church-yard of Fyvie.' |
| 26 |
'The time is gone, and now comes on
My dear, that I must leave thee;
If longer here I should appear,
Mill of Tifty he would see me.' |
| 27 |
'I now for ever bid adieu
To thee, my Andrew Lammie;
Or ye come back I will be laid
In the green church-yard of Fyvie.' |
| 28 |
He hied him to the head of the house,
To the house-top of Fyvie,
He blew his trumpet loud and shrill,
It was heard at Mill of Tifty. |
| 29 |
Her father lockd the door at night,
Laid by the keys fu canny,
And when he heard the trumpet sound
Said, Your cow is lowing, Annie. |
| 30 |
'My father dear, I pray forbear,
And reproach not your Annie;
I'd rather hear that cow to low
Than all the kye in Fyvie. |
| 31 |
'I would not for my braw new gown,
And all your gifts so many,
That it was told in Fyvie land
How cruel ye are to Annie. |
| 32 |
'But if you strike me I will cry,
And gentlemen will hear me;
Lord Fyvie will be riding by,
And he'll come in and see me.' |
| 33 |
At the same time the lord came in;
He said, What ails thee Annie?
'It's all for love now I must die,
For bonny Andrew Lammie.' |
| 34 |
'Pray, Mill of Tifty, give consent,
And let your daughter marry;'
'It will be with some higher match
Than the trumpeter of Fyvie.' |
| 35 |
'If she were come of as high a kind
As she's advanced in beauty,
I would take her unto myself,
And make her my own lady.' |
| 36 |
Fyvie lands are far and wide,
And they are wonderous bonny;
But I would not leave my own true-love
For all the lands in Fyvie.' |
| 37 |
Her father struck her wonderous sore,
As also did her mother;
Her sisters also did her scorn,
But woe be to her brother! |
| 38 |
Her brother struck her wonderous sore,
With cruel strokes and many;
He broke her back in the hall-door,
For liking Andrew Lammie. |
| 39 |
'Alas! my father and my mother dear,
Why so cruel to your Annie?
My heart was broken first by love,
My brother has broke my body. |
| 40 |
'O mother dear, make me my bed,
And lay my face to Fyvie;
Thus will I lie, and thus will die
For my dear Andrew Lammie. |
| 41 |
'Ye neighbours hear, baith far and near,
And pity Tifty's Annie,
Who dies for love of one poor lad,
For bonny Andrew Lammie. |
| 42 |
'No kind of vice eer staind my life,
Or hurt my virgin honour;
My youthful heart was won by love,
But death will me exoner.' |
| 43 |
Her mother than she made her bed,
And laid her face to Fyvie;
Her tender heart it soon did break,
And never saw Andrew Lammie. |
| 44 |
Lord Fyvie he did wring his hands,
Said, Alas foe Tifty's Annie!
The fairest flower's cut down by love
That ever sprang in Fyvie. |
| 45 |
'Woe be to Mill of Tifty's pride!
He might have let them marry;
I should have given them both to live
Into the lands of Fyvie.' |
| 46 |
Her father sorely now laments
The loss of his dear Annie,
And wishes he had given consent
To wed with Andrew Lammie. |
| 47 |
When Andrew home frae Edinburgh came,
With muckle grief and sorrow,
'My love is dead for me to-day,
I'll die for her to-morrow. |
| 48 |
'Now I will run to Tifty's den,
Where the burn runs clear and bonny;
With tears I'll view the brig of Slugh,
Where I parted from my Annie. |
| 49 |
'Then will I speed to the green kirk-yard,
To The green kirk-yard of Fyvie,
With tears I'll water my love's grave,
Till I follow Tifty's Annie.' |
