Andrew Lammie Lyrics - A Health To The Ladies - Craig Herbertson

By Mill o Tifty there lived a man 

In the neighbourhood o' Fyvie 

He had a lovely daughter fair 

And they called her bonnie Annie 

Lord Fyvie had a trumpeter 

Whose name was Andrew Lammie 

And he had the art to gain the heart 

O' Mill o' Tyfty's Annie 

Lord Fyvie he rode by the door 

Where lived Tifty's Annie 

His trumpeter rode him before 

Even this same Andrew Lammie 

Her mother cried her to the door 

Come here to me my Annie 

Did ye ever see a prettier man 

Than the trumpeter o' Fyvie 

Ah nothing she said but sighed fu sore 

'Twas alas for bonnie Annie 

For she durst not own her heart was won 

By the trumpeter o' Fyvie 

But at night when a' goes to beds 

All sleep true sound but Annie 

Love so oppressed her tender breast 

And love will wast her body 

The first time me and my love met 

Was in the woods o' Fyvie 

He called me mistress I said no 

I'm Mill o' Tyfty's Annie 

My love I go to Edinburgh toon 

And for a while mon leave ye 

O' but I'll be dede afore your return 

In the green kirkyard o' Fyvie 

Her father struck her wondrous sore 

And likewise did her mother 

Her sisters all so did her scorn 

But woe be to her brother 

Her brother struck her wondrous sore 

With cruel strokes and many 

For he broke her back under the temple stein 

The temple stein o' Fyvie 

O' mother dear now make my bed 

And lay my face to'erd Fyvie 

For I will lie and I will die 

For love o Andrew Lammie 

Her mother she gang make her bed 

And laid her face toerd Fyvie 

And its there she lay and its there she died 

For Love o Andrew Lammie