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Legends & Sagas
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233A: Andrew Lammie
233A.1 AT Fyvies yetts there grows a flower,
It grows baith braid and bonny;
Theres a daisie in the midst o it,
And its cad by Andrew Lammie.
233A.2 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.
233A.3 The first time me and my love met
Was in the woods of Fyvie;
He kissed my lips five thousand times,
And ay he cad me bonny,
And a the answer he gat frae me,
Was, My bonny Andrew Lammie!
233A.4 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!
233A.5 But true and trusty will I be,
As I am Andrew Lammie;
Ill never kiss a womans mouth
Till I come back and see thee.
233A.6 And true and trusty will I be,
As I am Tifties Annie;
Ill never kiss a man again
Till ye come back and see me.
233A.7 Syne hes come back frae Edinburgh
To the bonny hows o Fyvie,
And ay his face to the nor-east,
To look for Tifties Annie.
233A.8 I hae a love in Edinburgh,
Sae hae I intill Leith, man;
I hae a love intill Montrose,
Sae hae I in Dalkeith, man.
233A.9 And east and west, whereer I go,
My love shes always wi me;
For east and west, whereer I go,
My love she dwells in Fyvie.
233A.10 My love possesses a my heart,
Nae pen can eer indite her;
Shes ay sae stately as she goes
That I see nae mae like her.
233A.11 But Tiftie winna gie consent
His dochter me to marry,
Because has five thousand marks,
And I have not a penny.
233A.12 Love pines away, love dwines away,
Love, love decays the body;
For love o thee, oh I must die;
Adieu, my bonny Annie!
233A.13 Her mither raise out o her bed,
And cad on baith her women:
What ails ye, Annie, my dochter dear?
O Annie, was ye dreamin?
233A.14 What dule disturbd my dochters sleep?
O tell to me, my Annie!
She sighed right sair, and said nae mair
But, O for Andrew Lammie!
233A.15 Her father beat her cruellie,
Sae also did her mother;
Her sisters sair did scoff at her;
But wae betide her brother!
233A.16 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.
233A.17 O fie, O fie, my brother dear!
The gentlemenll shame ye;
The Laird o Fyvie hes gaun by,
And hell come in and see me.
233A.18 And hell kiss me, and hell clap me,
And he will speer what ails me;
And I will answer him again,
Its a for Andrew Lammie.
233A.19 Her sisters they stood in the door,
Sair grievd her wi their folly:
O sister dear, come to the door,
Your cow is lowin on you.
233A.20 O fie, O fie, my sister dear!
Grieve me not wi your folly;
Id rather hear the trumpet sound
Than a the kye o Fyvie.
233A.21 Love pines away, love dwines away,
Love, love decays the body;
For love o thee now I maun die;
Adieu to Andrew Lammie!
233A.22 But Tifties wrote a braid letter,
And sent it into Fyvie,
Saying his daughter was bewitchd
By bonny Andrew Lammie.
233A.23 Now, Tiftie, ye maun gie consent,
And lat the lassie marry;
Ill never, never gie consent
To the trumpeter of Fyvie.
233A.24 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.
233A.25 O Andrews gane to the house-top
O the bonny house o Fyvie,
Hes blawn his horn baith loud and shill
Oer the lawland leas o Fyvie.
233A.26 Mony a time hae I walkd a night,
And never yet was weary;
But now I may walk wae my lane,
For Ill never see my deary.
233A.27 Love pines away, love dwines away,
Love, love decays the body;
For the love o thee now I maun die;
I come, my bonny Annie!
233B: Andrew Lammie
233B.1 THERE springs a rose in Fyvies yard,
And O but it springs bonny!
Theres a daisy in the middle of it,
Its name is Andrew Lammie.
233B.2 I wish the rose were in my breast,
For the love I bear the daisy;
So blyth and merry as I would be,
And kiss my Andrew Lammie.
233B.3 The first time I and my love met
Was in the wood of Fyvie;
He kissed and he dawted me,
Calld me his bonny Annie.
233B.4 Wi apples sweet he did me treat,
Which stole my heart so canny,
And ay sinsyne himself was kind,
My bonny Andrew Lammie.
233B.5 But I am going to Edinburgh,
My love, Im going to leave thee;
She sighd full sore, and said no more,
I wish I were but wi you.
233B.6 I will buy thee a wedding-gown,
My love, Ill buy it bonny;
But Ill be dead or ye come back,
My bonny Andrew Lammie.
233B.7 I will buy you brave bridal shoes,
My love, Ill buy them bonny;
But Ill be dead or ye come back,
My bonny Andrew Lammie.
233B.8 If youll be true and trusty too,
As I am Andrew Lammie,
That you will neer kiss lad nor lown
Till I return to Fyvie.
233B.9 I shall be true and trusty too,
As my names Tiftys Nanny,
That Ill kiss neither lad nor lown
Till you return to Fyvie.-+--+-
233B.10 Love pines awa, love dwines awa,
Love pines awa my body;
And loves crept in at my bed-foot,
And taen possession o me.
233B.11 My father drags me by the hair,
My mother sore does scold me;
And they would give one hundred merks
To any one to wed me.
233B.12 My sister stands at her bower-door,
And she full sore does mock me,
And when she hwars the trumpet sound,-+--+-
"[Your cow is lowing, Nanny!"]
233B.13 O be still, my sister Jane,
And leave off all your folly;
For Id rather hear that cow low
That all the kye in Fyvie.
233B.14 My father locks the door at night,
Lays up the keys fu canny,
And when he hears the trumpet sound,-+--+-
"[Your cow is lowing, Nanny!"]
233B.15 O hold your tongue, my father dear,
And let be a your folly;
For I would rather hear that cow
Than all the kye in Fyvie.
* * * * *
233B.16 If you ding me, I will greet,
And gentlemen will hear me;
Laird Fyvie will be coming by,
And hell come in and see me.
233B.17 Yea, I will ding you though ye greet
And gentlemen should hear you;
Though Laird Fyvie were coming by,
And did come in and see you.
233B.18 So they dang her, and she grat,
And gentlemen did hear her,
And Fyvie he was coming by,
And did come in to see her.
233B.19 Mill of Tifty, give consent,
And let your daughter marry;
If she were full of as high blood
As she is full of beauty,
I would take her to myself,
And make her my own lady.
233B.20 Fyvie lands ly broad and wide,
And O but they ly bonny!
But I would not give my own true-love
For all the lands in Fyvie.
233B.21 But make my bed, and lay me down,
And turn my face to Fyvie,
That I may see before I die
My bonny Andrew Lammie.
233B.22 They made her bed, and laid her down,
And turnd her face to Fyvie;
She gave a groan, and died or morn,
So neer saw Andrew Lammie.
233B.23 Her father sorely did lament
The loss of his dear Nannie,
And wishd that he had gien consent
To wed with Andrew Lammie.
233B.24 But ah! alas! it was too late,
For he could not recall her;
Through time unhappy is his fate,
Because he did controul her.
233B.25 You parents grave who children have,
In crushing them be canny,
Lest for their part they break their heart,
As did young Tiftys Nanny.
233C: Andrew Lammie
233C.1 AT Mill of Tifty lived a man,
In the neighbourhood of Fyvie;
He had a luvely daughter fair,
Was call d bonny Annie.
233C.2 Her bloom was like thr springing flower
That hails the rosy morning,
With innocence and graceful mein
Her beautous form adorning.
233C.3 Lord Fyvie had a trumpeter
Whose name was Andrew Lammie;
He had the art to gain the heart
Of Mill of Tiftys Annie.
233C.4 Proper he was, both young and gay,
His like was not in Fyvie,
Nor was ane there that could compare
With this same Andrew Lammie.
233C.5 Lord Fyvie he rode by the door
Where liv d Tiftys annie;
His trumpeter rode him before,
Even this same Andrew Lammie.
233C.6 Her mother called her to the door;
Come here to me, my Annie:
Did eer you see a prettier man
Than the trumpeter of Fyvie?
233C.7 Nothing she said, but sighing sore,
Alas for Bonnie Annie!
She durst not own her heart was won
By the trumpeter of Fyvie.
233C.8 At night when all went to their bed,
All slept full soon but Annie;
Love so oppresst her tender breast,
Thinking on Andrew Lammie.
233C.9 Love comes in at my bed-side,
And love lies down beyond me;
Love has possest my tender breast,
And love will waste my body.
233C.10 The first time me and my love met
Was in the woods of Fyvie;
His lovely form and speech so soft
Soon gaind the heart of Annie.
233C.11 He called me mistress;I said, No,
Im Tiftys bonny Annie;
With apples sweet he did me treat,
And kisses soft and mony.
233C.12 Its up and down in Tiftys den,
Where the burn runs clear and bonny,
Ive often gane to meet my love,
My bonny Andrew Lammie.
233C.13 But now alas! her father heard
That the trumpeter of Fyvie
Had had the art to gain the heart
Of Mill of Tiftys Annie.
233C.14 Her father soon a letter wrote,
And sent it on to Fyvie,
To tell his daughter was bewitchd
By his servant, Andrew Lammie.
233C.15 Then up the stair his trumpeter
He call d soon and shortly:
Pray tell me soon whats this youve done
To Tiftys bonny Annie.
233C.16 Woe be to Mill of Tiftys pride,
For it has ruined many;
Theyll not have t said that she should wed
The trumpeter of Fyvie.
233C.17 In wicked art I had no part,
Nor therein am I canny;
True love alone the heart has won
Of Tiftys bonnie Annie.
233C.18 Where will I find a boy so kind
That will carry a letter canny,
Who will run to Tiftys town,
Give it to my love Annie?
233C.19 Tifty he has daughters three
Who all are wonderous bonny;
But yell ken her oer a the rest;
Give that to bonny Annie.
233C.20 Its up and down in Tiftys den,
Where the burn runs clear and bonny,
There wilt thou come and Ill attend;
My love, I long to see thee.
233C.21 Thou mayst come to the brig of Slugh,
And there Ill come and meet thee;
Its there we will renew our love,
Before I go and leave you.
233C.22 My love, I go to Edinburgh town,
And for a while must leave thee;
She sighed sore, and said no more
But I wish that I were with you!
233C.23 Ill buy to thee a bridal gown,
My love, Ill buy it bonny;
But Ill be dead ere ye come back
To see your bonny Annie.
233C.24 If yell be true and constant too,
As I am Andrew Lammie,
I shall thee wed when I come back
To see the lands of Fyvie.
233C.25 I will be true and constant too
To thee, my Andrew Lammie,
But my bridal bed or thenll be made
In the green church-yard of Fyvie.
233C.26 The time is gone, and now comes on
My dear, that I must leave thee;
If longer here I should appear,
Mill of Tifty he would see me.
233C.27 I now for ever bid adieu
To thee, my Andrew Lammie;
Or ye come back I will be laid
In the green church-yard of Fyvie.
233C.28 He hied him to the head of the house,
To the house-top of Fyvie,
He blew his trumpet loud and shrill,
It was heard at Mill of Tifty.
233C.29 Her father lockd the door at night,
Laid by the keys fu canny,
And when he heard the trumpet sound
Said, Your cow is lowing, Annie.
233C.30 My father dear, I pray forbear,
And reproach not your Annie;
Id rather hear that cow to low
Than all the kye in Fyvie.
233C.31 I would not for my braw new gown,
And all your gifts so many,
That it was told in Fyvie land
How cruel ye are to Annie.
233C.32 But if you strike me I will cry,
And gentlemen will hear me;
Lord Fyvie will be riding by,
And hell come in and see me.
233C.33 At the same time the lord came in;
He said, What ails thee Annie?
Its all for love now I must die,
For bonny Andrew Lammie.
233C.34 Pray, Mill of Tifty, give consent,
And let your daughter marry;
It will be with some higher match
Than the trumpeter of Fyvie.
233C.35 If she were come of as high a kind
As shes advanced in beauty,
I would take her unto myself,
And make her my own lady.
233C.36 Fyvie lands are far and wide,
And they are wonderous bonny;
But I would not leave my own true-love
For all the lands in Fyvie.
233C.37 Her father struck her wonderous sore,
As also did her mother;
Her sisters also did her scorn,
But woe be to her brother!
233C.38 Her brother struck her wonderous sore,
With cruel strokes and many;
He broke her back in the hall-door,
For liking Andrew Lammie.
233C.39 Alas! my father and my mother dear,
Why so cruel to your Annie?
My heart was broken first by love,
My brother has broke my body.
233C.40 O mother dear, make me my bed,
And lay my face to Fyvie;
Thus will I lie, and thus will die
For my dear Andrew Lammie.
233C.41 Ye neighbours hear, baith far and near,
And pity Tiftys Annie,
Who dies for love of one poor lad,
For bonny Andrew Lammie.
233C.42 No kind of vice eer staind my life,
Or hurt my virgin honour;
My youthful heart was won by love,
But death will me exoner.
233C.43 Her mother than she made her bed,
And laid her face to Fyvie;
Her tender heart it soon did break,
And never saw Andrew Lammie.
233C.44 Lord Fyvie he did wring his hands,
Said, Alas foe Tiftys Annie!
The fairest flowers cut down by love
That ever sprang in Fyvie.
233C.45 Woe be to Mill of Tiftys pride!
He might have let them marry;
I should have given them both to live
Into the lands of Fyvie.
233C.46 Her father sorely now laments
The loss of his dear Annie,
And wishes he had given consent
To wed with Andrew Lammie.
233C.47 When Andrew home frae Edinburgh came,
With muckle grief and sorrow,
My love is dead for me to-day,
Ill die for her to-morrow.
233C.48 Now I will run to Tiftys den,
Where the burn runs clear and bonny;
With tears Ill view the brig of Slugh,
Where I parted from my Annie.
233C.49 Then will I speed to the green kirk-yard,
To The green kirk-yard of Fyvie,
With tears Ill water my loves grave,
Till I follow Tiftys Annie.
Next: 234. Charlie MacPherson