"Mill o' Tifty's Annie" AKA "Andrew Lammie".

MILL O' TIFTY

At Mill o' Tifty there lived a man, in the neighbourhood o' Fyvie,
And he had a lovely daughter dear, wha's name was bonnie Annie.
Lord Fyvie had a trumpeter, by the name o' Andrew Lammie,
And he had the airt tae win the heart o' Mill O' Tifty's Annie.

Lord Fyvie he cam tae the mill whar lived bonnie Annie,
His trumpeter rade him before, even the same Andrew Lammie.
Her mither cried her tae the door, sayin, "Come here tae me, my Annie,
Did ere ye see a bonnier man, than the trumpeter o' Fyvie.

Nothing she said, but sighing so, alas for bonnie Annie,
She darena own, her heart was won by the servant Andrew Lammie.
That nicht as a' gaed tae their beds, a sleepit soond but Annie,
Love so repressed her tender breast, thinking on Andrew Lammie.

"The first time my love and I met, 'twas in the woods o' Fyvie,
He called me mistress, I said no, I was Tifty's bonnie Annie."
Her faither cam tae hear o' this, and a letter wrote tae Fyvie,
To say his dochter was bewitched by the trumpeter of Fyvie.

Lord Fyvie he cam tae the mill, sayin "What ails ye bonnie Annie?"
"Och it's a' for love that I'm cast doon for the love of Andrew Lammie".
"Oh, Tifty, Tifty, gie consent and let yer dochter marry",
"Na, it'll be tae ane o' a higher degree than the servant Andrew Lammie."

"If she'd been born o' as rich a kin as she is rich in beauty,
I wad hae ta'en the lass mysel and made her my ain Lady".
"Oh Fyvie's lands are far and wide, and they are wondrous bonnie,
But I wadnae trade my ain dear love no for a' yer lands o' Fyvie,"

At this her faither did her scorn, and likewise did her mither,
Her sisters they did her disown, oh but wae's me for her brither.
Her brither struck her wondrous o'er wi cruel blows and mony,
He's broke her back on the temple stane a' for liking Andrew Lammie.

"Oh faither, mither, sisters a', why sae cruel tae yer Annie?
My hert was broken first by love, noo my brither's broke my body".
"Oh mither, mither, mak my bed and turn my head tae Fyvie,
For it's there I'll lie and there I'll die for the servant, Andrew Lammie".


Or maybe: Sheath and knife.


SHEATH AND KNIFE

Oh 'tis whispered in the kitchen, 'tis whispered in the hall
The broom blooms bonnie, the broom blooms fair
That the King's daughter gaes wi' a bairnie by her brither
And they daur not gae doon tae the broom ony mair.

He has ta'en his sister doon tae his faither's deer park,
The broom....
Wi' his yew tree bow and arrow, slung fast across his back
And they daur....

And when the guard he heard her, gie a loud cry,
A silver arrer fae his bow, he suddenly let fly,

He has dug tae her a grave, that was long, wide and deep,
And he's buried his ain sister, wi' their bairnie at her feet,

And when the guard he came to his faither's hall,
There was music, there were minstrels, and dancin' and all,

Oh Willie, my son Willie, wha' gies tae ye sic pain,
I ha'e lost that sheath and knife I can never find again,

And My faither micht ha'e ships that sail upon the sea,
Ah, but sic a sheath and knife they can never bring tae me....