At Mill o' Tifty lived a man,
In the neighbourhood of Fyvie;
He had a lovely daughter fair,
Was called bonnie Annie.
Her bloom was like the springing flower
That salutes the rosy morning;
With innocence, and graceful mien,
Her beauteous form adorning.
Lord Fyvie had Atrumpeter,
Whose name was Andrew Lammie;
He had the art to gain the heart
Of Mill o' Tifty's Annie.
Proper he was, both young and gay,
His like was not in Fyvie;
No one was there that could compare
With this same Andrew Lammie.
Lord Fyvie he rode by the door
Where lived Tifty's Annie;
His Trumpeter rode him before,
Even this same Andrew Lammie.
Her mother call'd her to the door —
" Come hear to me, my Annie;
Did you ever see a prettier man
Than the Trumpeter of Fyvie? "
She sighed sore, but said no more;
Alas for bonnie Annie!
She durst not own her heart was won
By the Trumpeter of Fyvie.
At night, when they went to their beds,
All slept full sound but Annie;
Love so opprest her tender breast,
Thinking on Andrew Lammie.
" Love comes in at my bedside,
And love lies down beyond me;
Love has possess'd my tender breast,
And love will waste my body.
" The first time I and my love met,
Was in the woods of Fyvie;
His lovely form and speech so sweet
Soon gain'd the heart of Annie.
" He called me mistress; I said, No —
I'm Tifty's bonnie Annie;
With apples sweet he did me treat,
And kisses soft and many.
" It's up and down in Tifty's den,
Where the burn runs clear and bonnie,
I've often gone to meet my love,
My bonnie Andrew Lammie. "
But now, alas! her father heard
That the Trumpeter of Fyvie
Had had the art to gain the heart
Of Tifty's bonnie Annie.
Her father soon a letter wrote,
And sent it on to Fyvie,
To tell his daughter was bewitched
By his servant Andrew Lammie.
When Lord Fyvie this letter read,
Oh, dear! but he was sorry;
" The bonniest lass in Fyvie's land
Is bewitched by Andrew Lammie. "
Then up the stair his Trumpeter
He called soon and shortly —
" Pray, tell me soon, what's this you've done
To Tifty's bonnie Annie? "
" In wicked art I had no part,
Nor therein am I cannie;
True love alone the heart has won
Of Tifty's bonnie Annie.
" But woe betide Mill o' Tifty's pride,
For it has ruin'd many;
He'll no ha'e 't said that she should wed
The Trumpeter of Fyvie.
" Where will I find a boy so kind,
That'll carry a letter cannie;
Who will run on to Tifty's town,
Give it to my love Annie? "
" Here you shall find a boy so kind,
Who'll carry a letter cannie:
Who will run on to Tifty's town,
And gi'e 't to thy love Annie. "
" It's Tifty he has daughters three,
Who all are wond'rous bonnie;
But ye'll ken her o'er a' the lave, —
Gi'e that to bonnie Annie. "
" It's up and down in Tifty's den,
Where the burn rins clear and bonnie,
There wilt thou come and meet thy love,
Thy bonnie Andrew Lammie.
" When wilt thou come, and I'll attend,
My love, I long to greet thee? "
" Thou may'st come to the Bridge of Sleugh,
And there I'll come and meet thee. "
" My love I go to Edinbro',
And for a while must leave thee. "
She sighed sore, and said no more,
But " I wish that I were with thee. "
" I'll buy to thee a bridal gown,
My love, I'll buy it bonnie. "
" But I'll be dead ere you come back
To see your bonnie Annie. "
" If you'll be true and constant too,
As my name's Andrew Lammie,
I shall thee wed when I come back
To see the lands of Fyvie. "
" I will be true, and constant too,
To thee, my Andrew Lammie;
But my bridal bed will ere then be made
In the green churchyard of Fyvie. "
" Our time is gone and now comes on,
My dear, that I must leave thee;
If longer here I should appear,
Mill o' Tifty he would see me. "
" I now for ever bid adieu
To thee, my Andrew Lammie;
Ere ye come back, I will be laid
In the green churchyard of Fyvie. "
He hied him to the head of the house,
To the housetop of Fyvie;
He blew his trumpet loud and shrill,
'Twas heard at Mill o' Tifty.
Her father locked the door at night,
Laid by the keys fu' cannie;
And when he heard the trumpet sound,
Said — " Your cow is lowing, Annie. "
" My father dear, I pray forbear,
And reproach no more your Annie;
For I'd rather hear that cow to low,
Than hae a' the kye in Fyvie.
" I would not for my braw new gown,
And a' your gifts sae many,
That it were told in Fyvie's land,
How cruel you are to Annie.
" 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. "
At this same time my lord came in;
He said — " What ails thee, Annie? "
" 'Tis all for love now I must die,
For bonnie Andrew Lammie. "
" Pray, Mill o' Tifty, gi'e consent,
And let your daughter marry. "
" It will be with some higher match
Than the Trumpeter of Fyvie. "
" If she were come of as high a kind
As she's adorn'd with beauty,
I would take her unto myself,
And make her mine own Ladye. "
" It's Fyvie's lands are fair and wide,
And they are rich and bonnie;
But I would not leave my own true love,
For all the lands of Fyvie. "
Her father struck her wond'rous sore,
As also did her mother;
Her sisters both they did her scorn —
But woe be to her brother!
Her brother struck her wond'rous sore,
With cruel strokes and many;
He brake her back in the hall door,
For liking Andrew Lammie.
" Alas! my father and mother dear,
Why so cruel to your Annie?
My heart was broken first by love —
My brother has broken my body.
" Oh, mother dear, make ye my bed,
And lay my face to Fyvie;
Thus will I lie, and thus will die,
For my love Andrew Lammie!
" Ye neighbours dear, both far and near,
Ye'll pity Tifty's Annie;
Who dies for love of one poor lad,
For bonnie Andrew Lammie.
" No kind of vice e'er stained my life,
Nor hurt my virgin honour;
My youthful heart was won by love,
But death will me exoner. "
Her mother then she made her bed,
And laid her face to Fyvie;
Her tender heart it soon did break;
She ne'er saw Andrew Lammie.
But the tidings soon went up and down,
Through all the lands of Fyvie;
That she was dead and buried,
Even Tifty's bonnie Annie.
Lord Fyvie he did wring his hands; —
" Alas! for Tifty's Annie!
The fairest flow'r's cut down by love,
That e'er sprung up in Fyvie.
" Oh, woe betide Mill o' Tifty's pride!
He might have let them marry;
I should have gi'en them both to live
Into the lands of Fyvie. "
Her father sorely now laments
The loss of his dear Annie,
And wishes he had gi'en consent
To wed with Andrew Lammie.
Her mother grieves both ear' and late,
Her sisters, 'cause they scorn'd her;
Sorely her brother doth mourn and grieve,
For the cruel usage gi'en her.
But now, alas! it was too late,
For they could not recall her;
Through life unhappy is their fate,
Because they did control her.
When Andrew hame from Edinbro' came,
With meikle griet and sorrow;
" My love has died for me to-day,
I'll die for her to-morrow.
" Now I will on to Tifty's den,
Where the burn runs clear and bonnie;
With tears I'll view the Bridge of Sleugh,
Where I parted last with Annie.
" Then will I speed to the churchyard,
To the green churchyard of Fyvie;
With tears I'll water my love's grave,
Till I follow Tifty's Annie. "
Ye parents grave, who children have,
In crushing them be canny,
Lest, when too late, you do repent;
Remember Tifty's Annie.
In the neighbourhood of Fyvie;
He had a lovely daughter fair,
Was called bonnie Annie.
Her bloom was like the springing flower
That salutes the rosy morning;
With innocence, and graceful mien,
Her beauteous form adorning.
Lord Fyvie had Atrumpeter,
Whose name was Andrew Lammie;
He had the art to gain the heart
Of Mill o' Tifty's Annie.
Proper he was, both young and gay,
His like was not in Fyvie;
No one was there that could compare
With this same Andrew Lammie.
Lord Fyvie he rode by the door
Where lived Tifty's Annie;
His Trumpeter rode him before,
Even this same Andrew Lammie.
Her mother call'd her to the door —
" Come hear to me, my Annie;
Did you ever see a prettier man
Than the Trumpeter of Fyvie? "
She sighed sore, but said no more;
Alas for bonnie Annie!
She durst not own her heart was won
By the Trumpeter of Fyvie.
At night, when they went to their beds,
All slept full sound but Annie;
Love so opprest her tender breast,
Thinking on Andrew Lammie.
" Love comes in at my bedside,
And love lies down beyond me;
Love has possess'd my tender breast,
And love will waste my body.
" The first time I and my love met,
Was in the woods of Fyvie;
His lovely form and speech so sweet
Soon gain'd the heart of Annie.
" He called me mistress; I said, No —
I'm Tifty's bonnie Annie;
With apples sweet he did me treat,
And kisses soft and many.
" It's up and down in Tifty's den,
Where the burn runs clear and bonnie,
I've often gone to meet my love,
My bonnie Andrew Lammie. "
But now, alas! her father heard
That the Trumpeter of Fyvie
Had had the art to gain the heart
Of Tifty's bonnie Annie.
Her father soon a letter wrote,
And sent it on to Fyvie,
To tell his daughter was bewitched
By his servant Andrew Lammie.
When Lord Fyvie this letter read,
Oh, dear! but he was sorry;
" The bonniest lass in Fyvie's land
Is bewitched by Andrew Lammie. "
Then up the stair his Trumpeter
He called soon and shortly —
" Pray, tell me soon, what's this you've done
To Tifty's bonnie Annie? "
" In wicked art I had no part,
Nor therein am I cannie;
True love alone the heart has won
Of Tifty's bonnie Annie.
" But woe betide Mill o' Tifty's pride,
For it has ruin'd many;
He'll no ha'e 't said that she should wed
The Trumpeter of Fyvie.
" Where will I find a boy so kind,
That'll carry a letter cannie;
Who will run on to Tifty's town,
Give it to my love Annie? "
" Here you shall find a boy so kind,
Who'll carry a letter cannie:
Who will run on to Tifty's town,
And gi'e 't to thy love Annie. "
" It's Tifty he has daughters three,
Who all are wond'rous bonnie;
But ye'll ken her o'er a' the lave, —
Gi'e that to bonnie Annie. "
" It's up and down in Tifty's den,
Where the burn rins clear and bonnie,
There wilt thou come and meet thy love,
Thy bonnie Andrew Lammie.
" When wilt thou come, and I'll attend,
My love, I long to greet thee? "
" Thou may'st come to the Bridge of Sleugh,
And there I'll come and meet thee. "
" My love I go to Edinbro',
And for a while must leave thee. "
She sighed sore, and said no more,
But " I wish that I were with thee. "
" I'll buy to thee a bridal gown,
My love, I'll buy it bonnie. "
" But I'll be dead ere you come back
To see your bonnie Annie. "
" If you'll be true and constant too,
As my name's Andrew Lammie,
I shall thee wed when I come back
To see the lands of Fyvie. "
" I will be true, and constant too,
To thee, my Andrew Lammie;
But my bridal bed will ere then be made
In the green churchyard of Fyvie. "
" Our time is gone and now comes on,
My dear, that I must leave thee;
If longer here I should appear,
Mill o' Tifty he would see me. "
" I now for ever bid adieu
To thee, my Andrew Lammie;
Ere ye come back, I will be laid
In the green churchyard of Fyvie. "
He hied him to the head of the house,
To the housetop of Fyvie;
He blew his trumpet loud and shrill,
'Twas heard at Mill o' Tifty.
Her father locked the door at night,
Laid by the keys fu' cannie;
And when he heard the trumpet sound,
Said — " Your cow is lowing, Annie. "
" My father dear, I pray forbear,
And reproach no more your Annie;
For I'd rather hear that cow to low,
Than hae a' the kye in Fyvie.
" I would not for my braw new gown,
And a' your gifts sae many,
That it were told in Fyvie's land,
How cruel you are to Annie.
" 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. "
At this same time my lord came in;
He said — " What ails thee, Annie? "
" 'Tis all for love now I must die,
For bonnie Andrew Lammie. "
" Pray, Mill o' Tifty, gi'e consent,
And let your daughter marry. "
" It will be with some higher match
Than the Trumpeter of Fyvie. "
" If she were come of as high a kind
As she's adorn'd with beauty,
I would take her unto myself,
And make her mine own Ladye. "
" It's Fyvie's lands are fair and wide,
And they are rich and bonnie;
But I would not leave my own true love,
For all the lands of Fyvie. "
Her father struck her wond'rous sore,
As also did her mother;
Her sisters both they did her scorn —
But woe be to her brother!
Her brother struck her wond'rous sore,
With cruel strokes and many;
He brake her back in the hall door,
For liking Andrew Lammie.
" Alas! my father and mother dear,
Why so cruel to your Annie?
My heart was broken first by love —
My brother has broken my body.
" Oh, mother dear, make ye my bed,
And lay my face to Fyvie;
Thus will I lie, and thus will die,
For my love Andrew Lammie!
" Ye neighbours dear, both far and near,
Ye'll pity Tifty's Annie;
Who dies for love of one poor lad,
For bonnie Andrew Lammie.
" No kind of vice e'er stained my life,
Nor hurt my virgin honour;
My youthful heart was won by love,
But death will me exoner. "
Her mother then she made her bed,
And laid her face to Fyvie;
Her tender heart it soon did break;
She ne'er saw Andrew Lammie.
But the tidings soon went up and down,
Through all the lands of Fyvie;
That she was dead and buried,
Even Tifty's bonnie Annie.
Lord Fyvie he did wring his hands; —
" Alas! for Tifty's Annie!
The fairest flow'r's cut down by love,
That e'er sprung up in Fyvie.
" Oh, woe betide Mill o' Tifty's pride!
He might have let them marry;
I should have gi'en them both to live
Into the lands of Fyvie. "
Her father sorely now laments
The loss of his dear Annie,
And wishes he had gi'en consent
To wed with Andrew Lammie.
Her mother grieves both ear' and late,
Her sisters, 'cause they scorn'd her;
Sorely her brother doth mourn and grieve,
For the cruel usage gi'en her.
But now, alas! it was too late,
For they could not recall her;
Through life unhappy is their fate,
Because they did control her.
When Andrew hame from Edinbro' came,
With meikle griet and sorrow;
" My love has died for me to-day,
I'll die for her to-morrow.
" Now I will on to Tifty's den,
Where the burn runs clear and bonnie;
With tears I'll view the Bridge of Sleugh,
Where I parted last with Annie.
" Then will I speed to the churchyard,
To the green churchyard of Fyvie;
With tears I'll water my love's grave,
Till I follow Tifty's Annie. "
Ye parents grave, who children have,
In crushing them be canny,
Lest, when too late, you do repent;
Remember Tifty's Annie.