Classic Poem

At Fyvie's yetts there grows a flower,
It grows baith braid and bonny;
There's a daisie in the midsdt o' it,
And it's ca'd by Andrew Lammie.

O gin that flower war in my breast
For the love I bear the laddie,
I wad kiss it and I wad clap it
And daut it for Andrew Lammie.

The first time me and my love met
Was in the woods of Fyvie;
He kissed my lips five thousand times
And ay he ca'd me bonny,
And a' the answer he gat frae me
Was, My bonny Andrew Lammie!

Love, I maun gang to Edinburgh,
Love, I maun gang and leave thee.
I sighed right sair and said nae mair
But, O gin I were wi' ye.

But true and trusty will I be
As I am Andrew Lammie;
I'll never kiss a woman's mouth
Till I come back and see thee.

And true and trusty will I be
As I am Tiftie's Annie;
I'll never kiss a man again
Till ye come back and see me.

Syne he's come back frae Edinburgh
To the bonny hows o' Fyvie,
And ay his face to the nor-east
To look for Tiftie's Annie.

I ha'e a love in Edinburgh,
Sae ha'e I intill Leith, man;
I ha'e a love intill Montrose,
Sae ha'e I in Dalkeith, man.

And east and west where'er I go
My love she's always wi' me;
For east and west where'er I go
My love she dwells in Fyvie.

My love possesses a' my heart,
Nae pen can e'er indite her;
She's ay sae stately as she goes
That I see nae mae like her.

But Tiftie winna gi'e consent
His dochter me to marry,
Because she has five thousand marks
And I have not a penny.

Love pines away, love dwines away,
Love, love decays the body;
For love o' thee, oh I must die:
Adieu, my bonny Annie!

Her mither raise out o' her bed
And ca'd on baith her women:
What ails ye, Annie, my dochter dear?
O Annie, was ye dreamin'?

What dule disturb'd my dochter's sleep,
O tell to me, my Annie?
She sighed right sair, and said nae mair
But, O for Andrew Lammie!

Her father beat her cruellie,
Sae also did her mither;
Her sisters sair did scoff at her,
But wae betide her brother!

Her brother beat her cruellie,
Till his straiks they werena canny;
He brak her back and he beat her sides
For the sake o' Andrew Lammie.

O fie, O fie, my brother dear,
The gentlemen 'll shame ye;
The laird o' Fyvie he's gaun by
And he'll come in and see me.

And he'll kiss me and he'll clap me
And he will speer what ails me;
And I will answer him again,
It's a' for Andrew Lammie.

Her sisters they stood in the door,
Sair griev'd her wi' their folly;
O sister dear, come to the door,
Your cow is lowin' on you.

O fie, O fie, my sister dear,
Grieve me not wi' your folly;
I'd rather hear the trumpet sound
Than a' the kye o' Fyvie.

Love pines away, love dwines away,
Love, love decays the body;
For love o' thee now I maun die:
Adieu to Andrew Lammie!

But Tiftie 's wrote a braid letter
And sent it into Tyvie
Saying, His daughter was bewitch'd
By bonny Andrew Lammie.

Now Tiftie, ye maun gi'e consent
And lat the lassie marry.--
I'll never, never gi'e consent
To the Trumpeter of Fyvie.

When Fyvie looked the letter on
He was baith sad and sorry;
Says, The bonniest lass o' the country-side
Has died for Andrew Lammie.

O Andrew's gane to the house-top
O' the bonny house o' Fyvie;
He's blawn his horn baith loud and shill
O'er the lawland leas o' Fyvie:

Mony a time ha'e I walk'd a' night
And never yet was weary;
But now I may walk wae may lane
For I'll never see my deary.

Love pines away, love dwines away,
Love, love decays the body;
For the love o' thee now I maun die:
I come, my bonnie Annie!