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ANDREW I.AMMIB. |
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At the same time, the Lord came in;
He said, " What ails thee, Annie ? " " 'Tis all for love now I must die,
For bonny Andrew Lammie." "o
" 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 us
As she's adorned with beauty, I would take her unto myself,
And make her mine own lady."
" It's Fyvie's lands are fair and wide,
And they are rich and bonny; ia>
I would not leave my own true love, For all the lands of Fyvie."
Her father struck her wondrous sore,
And also did her mother; Her sisters always did her scorn ; 155
But woe be to her brother !
Her brother struck her wondrous sore,
With cruel strokes and many; He brake her back in the hall door,
For liking Andrew Lammie. mo |
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