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Twas in the month of sweet July
Before the sun had pierced the sky
'Twas in between two rigs o' rye
I heard two lovers talking.

The lad said, Lassie I must away
I have no longer time to stay
But I've a word or two tae say
If you've got time tae tarry,

Your father of you he takes great care
Your mother combs doon your yellow hair
Your sisters say that ye'll get nae share
If ye gang wi' me, a stranger.

Let my faither fret and my mither frown
My sisters words I do disown
Tho' they were deid and below the ground
I would gang wi' ye, a stranger,

Oh, lassie, lassie, your fortune's small
And maybe it will be nane at all
You're no a match for me at all
Lay your love upon some other,

The lassie's courage began to fail
Her rosy cheeks they grew wan and pale
And her tears came trickling doon like hail
Or a heavy shower in summer,

But he's taken his handkerchief linen fine
He's dried her tears and he's kissed her syne
Saying, Lassie, lassie will ye be mine?
I said it all just to try ye.

This laddie being of courage bold
A bonnie lad scarce nineteen years old
He's ranged the hills and the valleys over
And he's ta'en his lassie wi him.

And aye, this couple are married noo
And they hae bairnies one and two
And they live in Breckin the winter through
And in Montrose in summer.

DT #475
Laws O11

@courtship @Scottish @trick
recored by Sara Grey and by Jean Redpath
filename[ RIGSORYE

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