Page:Andrew Lammie, or, Mill of Tiftie's Annie (1).pdf/7

 Her iters always did her corn,

but woe be to her brother,

Her brother truck her wonderous ore

with cruel trokes and many

He brake her back in the hal door,

for liking Andrew Lammie

Alas i! [sic] my father and mother dear,

Why o cruel to your Annie,

My heart was broken firt by love,

my brother has broken my body.

Mother dear make ye my bed,

and lay my face to Fyvie

Thus will I ly and thus will die,

for my love Andrew Lammie.

Ye neighbours here both far and near,

Ye pity Tiftie's Annie,

Who dies for love of one poor lad.

for bonny Andrew Lammie

kind of vice e'er tain'd my life,

hurt my virgin honour,

My youthful heart was won by love,

but death will me exhonour.

Her mother then he made her bed,

and laid her face to Fyvie

Her lovely heart it soon did break,

and ne'er aw Andrew Lammie.

But the word oon went up and down,

through all the lands of Fyvie,

That he was dead and buried,

even Tiftie's bonny Annie,

Lord Fyvie he did wring his hands,

aid alas! for Tiftie's Annie,