1. |
Mill o' Tifty's Annie
05:10
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At Mill o’ Tifty, there bade a man
In the neighbourhood o’ Fyvie
He had a bonny dother fair,
An’ they ca’d her bonny Annie
Her bloom wis like the springin’ flooer
That greets the rosy morning,
Her innocence and graceful mien,
Her beauteous face adornin’
Lord Fyvie had a trumpeter,
An’ his name wis Andra Lammie
An’ he hid the airt tae win the hairt
O’ Mill o Tifty’s Annie
Lord Fyvie he rade by the door
Far dwelt sweet Tifty’s Annie
His trumpeter rode him afore
And his name wis Andra Lammie
Her mither ca’ed her tae the door
Come here tae me, my Annie
Did ye iver see sic a bonny man
Than the trumpeter o Fyvie?
Naething she said, but sighing sore,
Twas alas for bonnie Annie
For she durst not own that her hairt wis won
By the trumpeter o’ Fyvie
The first time that this couple met,
It was in the wids o’ Fyvie
And his handsome face and flatterin tongue
Seen won the hairt o’ Annie
Her faither cam tae hear o this
And a letter wrote tae Fyvie
Tae tell his dother had been bewitched
By his servant Andra Lammie
Faan Fyvie hid the letter read
He ca’ed for Andra Lammie
Pray tell me fit is this ye’ve daen
Tae Tifty’s bonnie Annie
In wicked airt, I’ve play nae pairt
Nor thocht tae injure ony
It’s honest love, that won the hairt
O’ Tifty’s bonnie Annie
But tae Edinburgh, he wis sent
Tae brak his tie wi Annie
For they tocht that she wid seen forget
Her love for Andra Lammie
The next time that Lord Fyvie passed
He caught a sicht o Annie
An said “If ye cam o higher kin,
I wid maak ye my ain lady”
Says she “yer lands are far and wide
And they are wonderous bonny
But I widna leave my ain true love
For aa the lands o’ Fyvie”
Then her faither struck her wonderous sore
And also did her mither,
Her sisters also took their score,
But wae be tae her brither
For her brither struck her wonderous sair
Wi cruel strokes and mony
And he’s broke her back across a stane
Jist for lovin Andra Lammie
Oh mither dear, mak me my bed
An’ lay my face tae Fyvie
It’s there I’ll lie and it’s there I’ll die
A’ for loving Andra lammie
Noo people here baith far and near
They pity Tifty’s Annie
Wha died for lovin one peer lad,
For lovin Andra Lammie
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2. |
Barbara Allen
04:42
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It fell aboot the Martinmas Time
Fan the green leaves they were fa’in
That young John Graeme, fae the north countrie
Fell in love wi Barbara Allan
Fell in love wi Barbara Allan
He’s coortit her for seiven lang years
till he could coort nae langer
For he fell sick and his hairt wis sair
So he sent for his true lover
Aye he sent for his true lover
He sent his man doon through the toon
Tae the place far she wis dwellin
Sayin haste ye cam tae my maisters side
Gin yer name bees Barbara Allan
Gin yer name bees Barbara Allan
Sae hooly hooly she rose up
And sae slowly she’s gaed wi him
And fan she pulled the curtains roon
She said young man I think yer dyin
Young man I think yer dyin
Aye surely I am dyin love
but a kiss fae you micht cure me
A kiss fae me that’ll niver dee
Gin yer hairts blid wis a-spillin
Gin yer hairts blid wis a-spillin
For mind ye no young man she said
Fan we sat in yonder tavern
Ye gart the healths gae roon an roon
But ye forgot yer Barbara Allan
Ye forgot yer Barbara Allan
O look ye doon tae my bed fit
It’s there ye’ll find a token
A china vase that’s ful o tears
Gae that tae Barbara Allan
Gae that tae Barbara Allan
He’s tirnt his face untae the waa
For daith wis wi him dealin
And he’s bid fareweel tae aa his freens
And adieu tae Barbara Allan
And adieu tae Barbara Allan
Noo she hid scarcely walked a mile
Fan she heard the deid bell tollin
And ivry strike, it seemed tae say
Hard-hairted Barbara Allan
Hard-hairted Barbara Allan
O mither, mither maak my bed
For I am broken hairted
For young John Graeme his died fir me
But we winna lang be pairted
No we winna lang be pairted
The pair wis laid in yon kirk-yaird
Aye she wis laid aside him
And frae her hairt there grew a rose
And frae his hairt a briar
And frae his hairt a briar
They grew up tae the bell tower tap
Till they could grow nae higher
And there they made a lovers knot
The rose amang the briar
The rose amang the briar
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3. |
The Gaberlunzie Man
04:54
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O, a beggar a beggar cam' ower yon lea,
He wiz seeking oot for charity
And he said guid wife for yer courtesy,
Will ye lodge a beggar man?
CHORUS: Lassie tae ma tow row rey
The nicht been cauld, and the carle been wat,
Its in ayont the ingle he sat,
And he’s flung his meal-pocks aff his back
And aye hes ranted and sang,
"Oh gin I were black as l am white,
Like yonder snaw that lies on yonder dyke,
I wad dress mysel' some beggar-like?
And awa' wi' you I’d gang."
"0 lassie, 0 lassie, you’re far ower young,
And ye dinnae hae the cant o’ the beggin’ tongue,
Nah ye dinnae hae the cant o' the beggin' tongue
And wi' me ye canna gang."
"Oh I'II bend my back and I’ll boo my knee,
And I'II pit a black patchie ower my e'e,
Aye and mony’s a fine tale I’ll tell ye,
and awa' wi' you I’ll gang."
Syne atween the twa they hae set the plot
Tae rise twa hoors afore the cock
Sae cannily as she slipped the lock
And its ower the fields they’ve ran
Noo In the mornin' the auld wife rose,
And eagerly pittin’ on her clothes
Straight to the servant's bed she goes
To speir for the silly auld man.
Noo the servants gaed where the auld man lay
Bit the staw was cauld and he wis away
Then its straight tae the auld wife she did say
Is ony o' oor guid gear gane?"
Some ran to the coffer, and some tae the kist
Bit nocht was taken or yet was missed
And she’s lifted up her airms, crying Lord Be Blessed
We’ve Iodged an honest old man.
Noo the servant gaed where the dochter lay,
But the sheets were cauld and she was away,
Then its straight tae the auld wife he did say
"She's awa' wi' the beggar man."
Some rode on horseback, some ran on fit,
A' but the auld wife cause she wasna fit,
She hobbled aboot frae hip to hip
An' aye she’s cursed and banned.
Oh a few years later, maybe twa or three
That same old beggar cam' ower yon lea,
And he says "Gudewife, for your courtesie,
Wid ye lodge a beggin’ man?"
"A beggar, a beggar I'II ne'er lodge again,
For l had ae dochter but ane o' my ain,
And awa' wi' the beggin’ man she's gane
And l dinna ken whence nor whar."
"0, yonder she's coming, and yonder she stands
Wi' a comb and glass intae her hand
Aye and servants aw at her command
Since she went with the beggin’ man
"0, yonder she's comin' to your bower,
Wi silks an' satins wi' monys a flower,"
She's lifted up her airms and she's blest the hour
That she went wi’ the beggin man.
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4. |
Johnnie o' Breadisley
05:00
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Johnnie rose up on a May morning
Caad fir water tae wash his hauns
Sayin “Gae lowse tae me my twa grey dugs
That lie bound in iron bands, bands
That lie bound in iron bands”
Fan Johnnie’s mither heard o this
Her hauns fir dule she wrang,
Sayin “Johnnie, fir yer venison,
Tae the greenwood dinna gang, gang
Tae the greenwood dinna gang”
But he has taen his guid bend-bow
His arras one by one
And he’s awa tae the greenwood gane,
Tae ding the dun deer doon, doon
Tae ding the dun deer doon
Johnnie shot and the dun deer lap,
And he wounded her on the side;
And atween the water and the wids,
The grey dugs laid her pride, pride
The grey dugs laid her pride
They ate sae much o’ the venison,
And drank sae much o’ the bleed
That Johnnie and his twa grey dugs,
Fell asleep as they’d been deid, deid
Fell asleep as they’d been deid
By there cam’ a silly auld man,
And an ill daith may he dee;
And he’s awa tae Esslemont
The seiven foresters for tae see see,
The seiven foresters for tae see
“As I cam’ doon by Monymusk,
And doon amang yon scrogs,
Wha did I spy, but the bonniest loon
Lyin sleepin atween twa dugs, dugs
Lyin sleepin atween twa dugs
“The buttons that were on his sleeves
Were o’ the gowd sae guid
And the twa dugs that he lay atween
Their moo’s were dyed wi bleed, bleed
Their moo’s were dyed wi bleed”
Then up and spak’ the first forester
He wis heidsman ower them aa
“Gin this be Jock o’ Breadislie,
Then unto him we will draw, draw
Then unto him we will draw”
The first shot that the forester fired,
It wounded him in the knee’
But the seicond shot that the forester fired
His hairts blid blint his e’e, e’e
His hairts blid blint his e’e
Up rose Johnnie oot o’ his sleep,
And an angry man wis he;
“Ye micht hae waukened me frae my sleep,
For ma hairts blid blins my e’e e’e
Ma hairts blid blins my e’e
He his leant his back against an oak,
His fit against a stane,
And he has fired at the seiven foresters,
And he’s kil’t them aa’ but ane, ane
He’s kil’t them aa’ but ane
He has broken fower o’ this man’s ribs,
His airm an’ his collar bone,
And he has set him tae his horse,
Tae cairry the tidings home, home
For tae cairry the tidings home
Johnnies guid bend-bow is broke,
His twa grey dugs are slain;
And his body lies in Monymusk,
And his huntin’ days are dane, dane
His huntin’ days are dane
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5. |
Edom o' Gordon
03:59
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It fell aboot the Martinmas time
When the wind blew shrill and cauld
Cried Edom o' Gordon tae his men
"We maun draw tae some hauld"
"Whit hauld, whit hauld,"
cried his merry men
"Whit hauld sal we gang tae?"
"It's tae Towie's Hoose that we maun ride
And see yon fair lady"
She thocht it was her ain dear lord
That she saw ridin' hame
But was the traitor Edom o' Gordon
That hid nae sin nor shame
"Come doon, come doon,
Lady Campbell," he cried
"And gie yer hoose tae me
Or else this nicht I swear I'll burn
Ye an' yer bairnies three"
"I winna come doon," the lady cried
"For laird nor yet for loon
Nor yet for any rank robber
That comes frae Auchendoon"
The lady frae the battlements
Twa bullets she let flee
But it missed its mark wi' Gordon
For it scarcely grazed his knee
"Lady Campbell," the Gordon cried
"That shot will cost you dear"
An' he has ca'ed tae his ain Jock
Tae bring the faggots near
"I winna come doon, ye fause Gordon
I winna gie up tae ye
I winna forsake ma ain dear lord
That is sae far frae me"
Then up and spak her youngest son
Sat on the nooris's knee
"Oh open the door and let me oot
For this reek is choking me"
"I wid gie up ma gowd," she cried
"Ma siller and ma fee
For a blast o' the whistling wind
Tae blaw this reek frae me"
Then up an' spak her dother dear
She wis baith jimp and sma'
"Oh row me in a pair o' sheets
And throw me ower the wa'"
They rowed her in a pair o' sheets
Aye and threw her ower the wa'
But on the point o' the Gordon's sword
She got a deidly fa'
Then Gordon turned her ower and ower
And oh her face was white
Ah micht had spared that bonny face
Tae be some man's delight
Oh pity on yon fair castle
That was biggit wi' stane and lime
And wae for Lady Campbell herself
Burnt wi' her bairnies nine
Oh three o' them were mairried wives
And three o' them were bairns
And three o' them were leal maidens
That ne'er lay in young men's airms
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6. |
Jock o' Hazeldean
02:49
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Why weep ye by the tide lady,
Why weep ye by the tide,
Ill wed ye tae my youngest son,
And ye shall be his bride.
And ye shall be his bride lady,
Sae comely tae be seen,
But aye she let the tears down fa
For Jock o Hazeldean.
Noo let this willfu greif be done,
And dry that cheek sae pale.
Young Frank is Chief o Errington,
And Lord o langleydale,
His step is first in peacefull ha,
His sword in battle keen,
But aye she lets the tears down fa
For Jock o Hazeldean.
A chain of gold ye shall not lack,
Nor braid tae bind your hair,
Nor mettled hound, nor managed hawk,
Nor palfry fresh and fair,
And you the foremost o them a,
Shall ride our forest Queen,
But aye she let the tears down fa
For Jock o Hazeldean.
The kirk was decked at morning tide,
The taper glimmered fair,
The priest and bridegroom wait the bride,
And dame and night are there,
They sought her baith by bower and ha
The lady was not seen,
She's ower the border and awa,
Wi Jock o Hazeldean
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Iona Fyfe Scotland, UK
Aberdeenshire folksinger, Iona Fyfe, has become one of Scotland’s finest young folk singers, rooted in the singing
traditions of the North East of Scotland. The first ever singer to win the coveted title of Musician of the Year at the MG ALBA Scots Trad Music Awards 2021, Iona has been described as “one of the best Scotland has to offer.” (Global-Music.de)
www.ionafyfe.com
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