{"collection":"Northern European Mythology","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/browse/neu/eng/child/ch233.htm","path":"neu/eng/child/ch233.htm","source_url":"https://sacred-texts.com/neu/eng/child/ch233.htm","text":"233A.1 \u2018AT Fyvie\u2019s yetts there grows a flower,\nIt grows baith braid and bonny;\nThere\u2019s a daisie in the midst o it,\nAnd it\u2019s ca\u2019d by Andrew Lammie.\n233A.2 \u2018O gin that flower war in my breast,\nFor the love I bear the laddie!\nI wad kiss it, and I wad clap it,\nAnd daut it for Andrew Lammie.\n233A.3 \u2018The first time me and my love met\nWas in the woods of Fyvie;\nHe kissed my lips five thousand times,\nAnd ay he ca\u2019d me bonny,\nAnd a\u2019 the answer he gat frae me,\nWas, My bonny Andrew Lammie!\u2019\n233A.4 \u2018Love, I maun gang to Edinburgh;\nLove, I maun gang and leave thee!\u2019\n\u2018I sighed right sair, and said nae mair\nBut, O gin I were wi ye!\u2019\n233A.5 \u2018But true and trusty will I be,\nAs I am Andrew Lammie;\nI\u2019ll never kiss a woman\u2019s mouth\nTill I come back and see thee.\u2019\n233A.6 \u2018And true and trusty will I be,\nAs I am Tiftie\u2019s Annie;\nI\u2019ll never kiss a man again\nTill ye come back and see me.\u2019\n233A.7 Syne he\u2019s come back frae Edinburgh\nTo the bonny hows o Fyvie,\nAnd ay his face to the nor-east,\nTo look for Tiftie\u2019s Annie.\n233A.8 \u2018I hae a love in Edinburgh,\nSae hae I intill Leith, man;\nI hae a love intill Montrose,\nSae hae I in Dalkeith, man.\n233A.9 \u2018And east and west, whereer I go,\nMy love she\u2019s always wi me;\nFor east and west, whereer I go,\nMy love she dwells in Fyvie.\n233A.10 \u2018My love possesses a\u2019 my heart,\nNae pen can eer indite her;\nShe\u2019s ay sae stately as she goes\nThat I see nae mae like her.\n233A.11 \u2018But Tiftie winna gie consent\nHis dochter me to marry,\nBecause has five thousand marks,\nAnd I have not a penny.\n233A.12 \u2018Love pines away, love dwines away,\nLove, love decays the body;\nFor love o thee, oh I must die;\nAdieu, my bonny Annie!\u2019\n233A.13 Her mither raise out o her bed,\nAnd ca\u2019d on baith her women:\n\u2018What ails ye, Annie, my dochter dear?\nO Annie, was ye dreamin?\n233A.14 \u2018What dule disturbd my dochter\u2019s sleep?\nO tell to me, my Annie!\u2019\nShe sighed right sair, and said nae mair\nBut, O for Andrew Lammie!\n233A.15 Her father beat her cruellie,\nSae also did her mother;\nHer sisters sair did scoff at her;\nBut wae betide her brother!\n233A.16 Her brother beat her cruellie,\nTill his straiks they werena canny;\nHe brak her back, and he beat her sides,\nFor the sake o Andrew Lammie.\n233A.17 \u2018O fie, O fie, my brother dear!\nThe gentlemen\u2019ll shame ye;\nThe Laird o Fyvie he\u2019s gaun by,\nAnd he\u2019ll come in and see me.\n233A.18 \u2018And he\u2019ll kiss me, and he\u2019ll clap me,\nAnd he will speer what ails me;\nAnd I will answer him again,\nIt\u2019s a\u2019 for Andrew Lammie.\u2019\n233A.19 Her sisters they stood in the door,\nSair grievd her wi their folly:\n\u2018O sister dear, come to the door,\nYour cow is lowin on you.\u2019\n233A.20 \u2018O fie, O fie, my sister dear!\nGrieve me not wi your folly;\nI\u2019d rather hear the trumpet sound\nThan a\u2019 the kye o Fyvie.\n233A.21 \u2018Love pines away, love dwines away,\nLove, love decays the body;\nFor love o thee now I maun die;\nAdieu to Andrew Lammie!\u2019\n233A.22 But Tiftie\u2019s wrote a braid letter,\nAnd sent it into Fyvie,\nSaying his daughter was bewitchd\nBy bonny Andrew Lammie.\n233A.23 \u2018Now, Tiftie, ye maun gie consent,\nAnd lat the lassie marry;\u2019\n\u2018I\u2019ll never, never gie consent\nTo the trumpeter of Fyvie.\u2019\n233A.24 When Fyvie looked the letter on,\nHe was baith sad and sorry:\nSays, The bonniest lass o the country-side\nHas died for Andrew Lammie.\n233A.25 O Andrew\u2019s gane to the house-top\nO the bonny house o Fyvie,\nHe\u2019s blawn his horn baith loud and shill\nOer the lawland leas o Fyvie.\n233A.26 \u2018Mony a time hae I walkd a\u2019 night,\nAnd never yet was weary;\nBut now I may walk wae my lane,\nFor I\u2019ll never see my deary.\n233A.27 \u2018Love pines away, love dwines away,\nLove, love decays the body;\nFor the love o thee now I maun die;\nI come, my bonny Annie!\u2019\n233B: Andrew Lammie\n233B.1 \u2018THERE springs a rose in Fyvie\u2019s yard,\nAnd O but it springs bonny!\nThere\u2019s a daisy in the middle of it,\nIts name is Andrew Lammie.\n233B.2 \u2018I wish the rose were in my breast,\nFor the love I bear the daisy;\nSo blyth and merry as I would be,\nAnd kiss my Andrew Lammie.\n233B.3 \u2018The first time I and my love met\nWas in the wood of Fyvie;\nHe kissed and he dawted me,\nCalld me his bonny Annie.\n233B.4 \u2018Wi apples sweet he did me treat,\nWhich stole my heart so canny,\nAnd ay sinsyne himself was kind,\nMy bonny Andrew Lammie.\u2019\n233B.5 \u2018But I am going to Edinburgh,\nMy love, I\u2019m going to leave thee;\u2019\nShe sighd full sore, and said no more,\n\u2018I wish I were but wi you.\u2019\n233B.6 \u2018I will buy thee a wedding-gown,\nMy love, I\u2019ll buy it bonny;\u2019\n\u2018But I\u2019ll be dead or ye come back,\nMy bonny Andrew Lammie.\u2019\n233B.7 \u2018I will buy you brave bridal shoes,\nMy love, I\u2019ll buy them bonny;\u2019\n\u2018But I\u2019ll be dead or ye come back,\nMy bonny Andrew Lammie.\u2019\n233B.8 \u2018If you\u2019ll be true and trusty too,\nAs I am Andrew Lammie,\nThat you will neer kiss lad nor lown\nTill I return to Fyvie.\u2019\n233B.9 \u2018I shall be true and trusty too,\nAs my name\u2019s Tifty\u2019s Nanny,\nThat I\u2019ll kiss neither lad nor lown\nTill you return to Fyvie.\u2019-+--+-\n233B.10 \u2018Love pines awa, love dwines awa,\nLove pines awa my body;\nAnd love\u2019s crept in at my bed-foot,\nAnd taen possession o me.\n233B.11 \u2018My father drags me by the hair,\nMy mother sore does scold me;\nAnd they would give one hundred merks\nTo any one to wed me.\n233B.12 \u2018My sister stands at her bower-door,\nAnd she full sore does mock me,\nAnd when she hwars the trumpet sound,-+--+-\n\"[Your cow is lowing, Nanny!\"]\n233B.13 \u2018O be still, my sister Jane,\nAnd leave off all your folly;\nFor I\u2019d rather hear that cow low\nThat all the kye in Fyvie.\n233B.14 \u2018My father locks the door at night,\nLays up the keys fu canny,\nAnd when he hears the trumpet sound,-+--+-\n\"[Your cow is lowing, Nanny!\"]\n233B.15 \u2018O hold your tongue, my father dear,\nAnd let be a\u2019 your folly;\nFor I would rather hear that cow\nThan all the kye in Fyvie.\u2019\n* * * * *\n233B.16 \u2018If you ding me, I will greet,\nAnd gentlemen will hear me;\nLaird Fyvie will be coming by,\nAnd he\u2019ll come in and see me.\u2019\n233B.17 \u2018Yea, I will ding you though ye greet\nAnd gentlemen should hear you;\nThough Laird Fyvie were coming by,\nAnd did come in and see you.\u2019\n233B.18 So they dang her, and she grat,\nAnd gentlemen did hear her,\nAnd Fyvie he was coming by,\nAnd did come in to see her.\n233B.19 \u2018Mill of Tifty, give consent,\nAnd let your daughter marry;\nIf she were full of as high blood\nAs she is full of beauty,\nI would take her to myself,\nAnd make her my own lady.\u2019\n233B.20 \u2018Fyvie lands ly broad and wide,\nAnd O but they ly bonny!\nBut I would not give my own true-love\nFor all the lands in Fyvie.\n233B.21 \u2018But make my bed, and lay me down,\nAnd turn my face to Fyvie,\nThat I may see before I die\nMy bonny Andrew Lammie.\u2019\n233B.22 They made her bed, and laid her down,\nAnd turnd her face to Fyvie;\nShe gave a groan, and died or morn,\nSo neer saw Andrew Lammie.\n233B.23 Her father sorely did lament\nThe loss of his dear Nannie,\nAnd wishd that he had gien consent\nTo wed with Andrew Lammie.\n233B.24 But ah! alas! it was too late,\nFor he could not recall her;\nThrough time unhappy is his fate,\nBecause he did controul her.\n233B.25 You parents grave who children have,\nIn crushing them be canny,\nLest for their part they break their heart,\nAs did young Tifty\u2019s Nanny.\n233C: Andrew Lammie\n233C.1 AT Mill of Tifty lived a man,\nIn the neighbourhood of Fyvie;\nHe had a luvely daughter fair,\nWas call d bonny Annie.\n233C.2 Her bloom was like thr springing flower\nThat hails the rosy morning,\nWith innocence and graceful mein\nHer beautous form adorning.\n233C.3 Lord Fyvie had a trumpeter\nWhose name was Andrew Lammie;\nHe had the art to gain the heart\nOf Mill of Tifty\u2019s Annie.\n233C.4 Proper he was, both young and gay,\nHis like was not in Fyvie,\nNor was ane there that could compare\nWith this same Andrew Lammie.\n233C.5 Lord Fyvie he rode by the door\nWhere liv d Tifty\u2019s annie;\nHis trumpeter rode him before,\nEven this same Andrew Lammie.\n233C.6 Her mother called her to the door;\n\u2018Come here to me, my Annie:\nDid eer you see a prettier man\nThan the trumpeter of Fyvie?\u2019\n233C.7 Nothing she said, but sighing sore,\nAlas for Bonnie Annie!\nShe durst not own her heart was won\nBy the trumpeter of Fyvie.\n233C.8 At night when all went to their bed,\nAll slept full soon but Annie;\nLove so oppresst her tender breast,\nThinking on Andrew Lammie.\n233C.9 \u2018Love comes in at my bed-side,\nAnd love lies down beyond me;\nLove has possest my tender breast,\nAnd love will waste my body.\n233C.10 \u2018The first time me and my love met\nWas in the woods of Fyvie;\nHis lovely form and speech so soft\nSoon gaind the heart of Annie.\n233C.11 \u2018He called me mistress;I said, No,\nI\u2019m Tifty\u2019s bonny Annie;\nWith apples sweet he did me treat,\nAnd kisses soft and mony.\n233C.12 \u2018It\u2019s up and down in Tifty\u2019s den,\nWhere the burn runs clear and bonny,\nI\u2019ve often gane to meet my love,\nMy bonny Andrew Lammie.\u2019\n233C.13 But now alas! her father heard\nThat the trumpeter of Fyvie\nHad had the art to gain the heart\nOf Mill of Tifty\u2019s Annie.\n233C.14 Her father soon a letter wrote,\nAnd sent it on to Fyvie,\nTo tell his daughter was bewitchd\nBy his servant, Andrew Lammie.\n233C.15 Then up the stair his trumpeter\nHe call d soon and shortly:\n\u2018Pray tell me soon what\u2019s this you\u2019ve done\nTo Tifty\u2019s bonny Annie.\u2019\n233C.16 \u2018Woe be to Mill of Tifty\u2019s pride,\nFor it has ruined many;\nThey\u2019ll not have \u2019t said that she should wed\nThe trumpeter of Fyvie.\n233C.17 \u2018In wicked art I had no part,\nNor therein am I canny;\nTrue love alone the heart has won\nOf Tifty\u2019s bonnie Annie.\n233C.18 \u2018Where will I find a boy so kind\nThat will carry a letter canny,\nWho will run to Tifty\u2019s town,\nGive it to my love Annie?\n233C.19 \u2018Tifty he has daughters three\nWho all are wonderous bonny;\nBut ye\u2019ll ken her oer a\u2019 the rest;\nGive that to bonny Annie.\n233C.20 \u2018It\u2019s up and down in Tifty\u2019s den,\nWhere the burn runs clear and bonny,\nThere wilt thou come and I\u2019ll attend;\nMy love, I long to see thee.\n233C.21 \u2018Thou mayst come to the brig of Slugh,\nAnd there I\u2019ll come and meet thee;\nIt\u2019s there we will renew our love,\nBefore I go and leave you.\n233C.22 \u2018My love, I go to Edinburgh town,\nAnd for a while must leave thee;\u2019\nShe sighed sore, and said no more\nBut \u2018I wish that I were with you!\u2019\n233C.23 \u2018I\u2019ll buy to thee a bridal gown,\nMy love, I\u2019ll buy it bonny;\u2019\n\u2018But I\u2019ll be dead ere ye come back\nTo see your bonny Annie.\u2019\n233C.24 \u2018If ye\u2019ll be true and constant too,\nAs I am Andrew Lammie,\nI shall thee wed when I come back\nTo see the lands of Fyvie.\u2019\n233C.25 \u2018I will be true and constant too\nTo thee, my Andrew Lammie,\nBut my bridal bed or then\u2019ll be made\nIn the green church-yard of Fyvie.\u2019\n233C.26 \u2018The time is gone, and now comes on\nMy dear, that I must leave thee;\nIf longer here I should appear,\nMill of Tifty he would see me.\u2019\n233C.27 \u2018I now for ever bid adieu\nTo thee, my Andrew Lammie;\nOr ye come back I will be laid\nIn the green church-yard of Fyvie.\u2019\n233C.28 He hied him to the head of the house,\nTo the house-top of Fyvie,\nHe blew his trumpet loud and shrill,\nIt was heard at Mill of Tifty.\n233C.29 Her father lockd the door at night,\nLaid by the keys fu canny,\nAnd when he heard the trumpet sound\nSaid, Your cow is lowing, Annie.\n233C.30 \u2018My father dear, I pray forbear,\nAnd reproach not your Annie;\nI\u2019d rather hear that cow to low\nThan all the kye in Fyvie.\n233C.31 \u2018I would not for my braw new gown,\nAnd all your gifts so many,\nThat it was told in Fyvie land\nHow cruel ye are to Annie.\n233C.32 \u2018But if you strike me I will cry,\nAnd gentlemen will hear me;\nLord Fyvie will be riding by,\nAnd he\u2019ll come in and see me.\u2019\n233C.33 At the same time the lord came in;\nHe said, What ails thee Annie?\n\u2018It\u2019s all for love now I must die,\nFor bonny Andrew Lammie.\u2019\n233C.34 \u2018Pray, Mill of Tifty, give consent,\nAnd let your daughter marry;\u2019\n\u2018It will be with some higher match\nThan the trumpeter of Fyvie.\u2019\n233C.35 \u2018If she were come of as high a kind\nAs she\u2019s advanced in beauty,\nI would take her unto myself,\nAnd make her my own lady.\u2019\n233C.36 Fyvie lands are far and wide,\nAnd they are wonderous bonny;\nBut I would not leave my own true-love\nFor all the lands in Fyvie.\u2019\n233C.37 Her father struck her wonderous sore,\nAs also did her mother;\nHer sisters also did her scorn,\nBut woe be to her brother!\n233C.38 Her brother struck her wonderous sore,\nWith cruel strokes and many;\nHe broke her back in the hall-door,\nFor liking Andrew Lammie.\n233C.39 \u2018Alas! my father and my mother dear,\nWhy so cruel to your Annie?\nMy heart was broken first by love,\nMy brother has broke my body.\n233C.40 \u2018O mother dear, make me my bed,\nAnd lay my face to Fyvie;\nThus will I lie, and thus will die\nFor my dear Andrew Lammie.\n233C.41 \u2018Ye neighbours hear, baith far and near,\nAnd pity Tifty\u2019s Annie,\nWho dies for love of one poor lad,\nFor bonny Andrew Lammie.\n233C.42 \u2018No kind of vice eer staind my life,\nOr hurt my virgin honour;\nMy youthful heart was won by love,\nBut death will me exoner.\u2019\n233C.43 Her mother than she made her bed,\nAnd laid her face to Fyvie;\nHer tender heart it soon did break,\nAnd never saw Andrew Lammie.\n233C.44 Lord Fyvie he did wring his hands,\nSaid, Alas foe Tifty\u2019s Annie!\nThe fairest flower\u2019s cut down by love\nThat ever sprang in Fyvie.\n233C.45 \u2018Woe be to Mill of Tifty\u2019s pride!\nHe might have let them marry;\nI should have given them both to live\nInto the lands of Fyvie.\u2019\n233C.46 Her father sorely now laments\nThe loss of his dear Annie,\nAnd wishes he had given consent\nTo wed with Andrew Lammie.\n233C.47 When Andrew home frae Edinburgh came,\nWith muckle grief and sorrow,\n\u2018My love is dead for me to-day,\nI\u2019ll die for her to-morrow.\n233C.48 \u2018Now I will run to Tifty\u2019s den,\nWhere the burn runs clear and bonny;\nWith tears I\u2019ll view the brig of Slugh,\nWhere I parted from my Annie.\n233C.49 \u2018Then will I speed to the green kirk-yard,\nTo The green kirk-yard of Fyvie,\nWith tears I\u2019ll water my love\u2019s grave,\nTill I follow Tifty\u2019s Annie.\u2019","title":"The Child Ballads: 233. Andrew Lammie","type":"page"}