Young Allan

There was three lords sat drinkin wine
In bonnie Aberdeen, [O]
. . . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . .

Some o them talked o their merchandise,
An some o their ladies fine, [O]
But Young Allan he talked o his bonnie ship,
That cost him mony a poun.


" Whar will I get a bonnie wee boy
That 'll tak my helm in han, O
Till I gang up to my high topmast
An look oot for some dry lan?

" He 'll get half o my gowd, an half o my gear,
An the third pairt o my lan,
An gin he row me safe on shore
He shall hae my daughter Ann."

" O here am I, a bonny wee boy
That 'll tak your helm in han
Till ye gang up to your high topmast
An look oot for some dry lan.

" I 'll nae seek your gowd, nor I 'll nae seek your gear,
Nor the third pairt o your lan,
But gin I row you safe to shore
I shall hae your daughter Ann.

" Come doon, come doon, Young Allan," he cries,
" Ye see nae what I see;
For through an through your bonnie ship-side
An I see the open sea.

" Ye 'll tak twenty-four o your feather-beds,
Ye 'll busk your bonnie ship roon,
An as much o the guid canvas-claith
As gar her gang hale an soun.

" An whar ye want an iron bolt
Ye 'll ca a siller pin,
An whar ye want an oaken bolt
Ye 'll beat the yellow gold in."

He 's taen twenty-four o his feather-beds
An buskit 's bonnie ship roon,
An as much o the guid canvas-claith
As gar her gang hale an soun.

An whar he 's wantit an iron bolt
He 's ca'd a siller pin,
An whar he 's wantit an oaken bolt
He 's beat the yellow gold in.

The firstan shore that they cam till,
It was the shore o Linn;
They held their spears an beenits oot,
An they wouldna lat Allan in.

The neistan shore that they cam till
It was the shore o ...;
. . . . . . . . . .
An they turned their ship aboot.

But the neistan shore that they cam till,
'T was bonnie Aberdeen;
The fifes an drums they a' did play,
To welcome Allan in.

" O where is he, the bonnie wee boy
That took my helm in han
Till I gied up to my high topmast
An lookd oot for some dry lan?

" He 's get half o my gowd, an half o my gear,
An the third pairt o my lan,
An since he 's rowt me safe to shore
He sall hae my daughter Ann."

" O here am I, the bonnie wee boy
That took your helm in han
Till ye gied up to your high topmast
An lookd oot for some dry lan.

" I 'll nae seek half o your good, nor half o your gear,
Nor the third pairt o your lan,
But since I 've rowt you safe to shore
I sall hae your daughter Ann."
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