Page:Mill o' Tiftie's Annie, or, Andrew Lammie, the trumpeter of Fyvie (2).pdf/7



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He hied him to the head of the house, To the house top of Fyvie; He blew his trumpet loud and shrill, 'Twas heard at Mill o' Tifty.

Her father lock'd the door at night, Laid by the keys fu' canny; And when he heard the trumpet sound, Said, "Your cow is lowing Annie."

"My father dear, I pray forbear,        And reproach no more your Annie,       For I'd rather hear that cow to low,         Than ha'e a' the kine in Fyvie.

"I would not for ny braw new gown,        And a' your gifts so many,       That it were told in Fyvie's land         How cruel you are to Annie.

“But if you strike me I will cry, And gentlemen will hear me; Lord Fyvie will be riding by, And he'll come in and see me."

At the same time the lord came in, He said, "What ails thee, Annie?" “ 'Tis all for love, now I must die For bonnie Andrew Lammie.”

“Pray, Mill o' Tifty, gi'e consent, And let your daughter marry."      "It will be with some higher match Than the Trumpeter of Fyvie."

"If she were come of as high a kind        As she's adorned with beauty,       I would take her unto myself,         And make her mine own lady."