Page:Andrew Lammie (the trumpeter of Fyvie), or, Mill of Tifties' Annie (1).pdf/8

 but death will me exoner.

Her mother than she made her bed,

and laid her face to Fyvie,

Her tender heart it soon did brake,

and never saw Andrew Lammie.

Lord Fyvie he did wring his hands,

said alas for tifties annie;

The fairest flower cut down by love

that ever sprang in Fyvie.

woe be to mill of tifties pride,

he might have let them marry,

I should have given them both to live

into the lands of Fyvie.

Her father sorely now laments

the loss of his dear annie,

And wishes he had given consent

to wed with Andrew Lammie.

when andrew home from Edinburgh came

with muckle grief and sorrow,

My love is dead for me to day,

I‘ll die for her to morrow.

Now I will rin to tifties den,

for the burn runs clear and bonny,

with tears I‘ll view the bridge of staugh,

where I parted with my annie

Then will I speed to the kirk-yard.

to the green kirk-yard of Fyvie,

with tears I'll water my loves grave,

till I follow tifties annie.