| 1 |
O wha will tie my shoes sae sma',
And wha will glove my hand?
And wha will lace my middle sae jimp
Wi' my new-made linen band? |
who, so small
neat |
| 2 |
Wha will kaim my yellow hair,
Wi' my new siller kaim?
And wha will faither my young son
Till Lord Gregory comes hame? |
comb
silver
home |
| 3 |
O' I will get a bonnie boat,
And I will sail the sea,
For I maun gang tae Lord Gregory
Since he canna come hame to me. |
must go to |
| 4 |
O, row your boat, ye mariners,
And tak' me to dry land,
For yonder I see my love's castel
Doon by the saut sea strand. |
salt |
| 5 |
O, open the door, Lord Gregory,
Open and let me in,
For the wind blows through my yellow hair
And I'm shiverin' to the chin. |
|
| 6 |
Awa', awa', ye wile woman,
Some ill death may ye dee,
You're either a witch or a wild warlock
Or mermaid o' the sea. |
wizard |
| 7 |
I'm neither a witch nor wild warlock,
Nor mermaid o' the sea;
But I am Annie o' Roch Royal,
Open the door to me. |
|
| 8 |
O, dinna ye mind, Lord Gregory,
When ye sat at the wine,
We changed the rings frae our fingers,
And I can show thee thine. |
don't |
| 9 |
O, dinna ye mind, Lord Gregory,
When in your faither's ha',
'Twas there ye took your will o' me,
And that was worst o' a'. |
|
| 10 |
Awa', awa' ye wile woman,
For here ye sanna win in,
Gae droon ye in the saut, saut sea,
Or hang on the gallows pin. |
drown |
| 11 |
When the cock did craw and the day did daw'
And the sun began to peep,
Then up did rise Lord Gregory
And sair, sair did he greet. |
dawn |
| 12 |
I dreamed a dream, my auld mither,
The thocht o't gars me greet,
I dreamed fair Annie o' Roch Royal
Lay cauld deid at my feet. |
thought of it makes me weep
cold dead |
| 13 |
If it be Annie o' Roch Royal
That gars ye mak this din,
She stood a' nicht at oor ha' door
But I wadna let her in. |
makes
all night |
| 14 |
O wae betide ye, ill woman,
And some ill death may ye dee,
That ye wadna hae letten poor Annie in
Or else hae waukened me. |
|
| 15 |
Lord Gregory he's gane to the shore
As fast as he could fare,
And he saw fair Annie in her boat,
And the wind it rocked her sair. |
|
| 16 |
The wind blew heich and the lift grew leich
And the boat was dashed on shore,
Fair Annie floated on the sea
But her young son rose no more. |
high, low |
| 17 |
Lord Gregory tore his yellow hair
And made his heavy moan,
Fair Annie lay deid at his feet,
But his bonnie young son was gone. |
|
| 18 |
O wae betide ye, cruel mither,
And some ill deith may ye dee,
That ye couldna hae letten fair Annie in,
When she come sae far to me. |
|
