ANDREW LAMMIE.
At Mill of Tifty lived a man,
In the neighbourhood of Fyvie—
He had a lovely daughter fair,
Was called bonny Annie.
Her bloom was like the springing flower,
That hails the rosy morn—
With innocence and graceful mien,
Her beauteous face adorning.
Lord Fyvie had a trumpeter,
Whose name was Andrew Lammie—
He had the art to gain the heart
Of Mill of Tifty’s Annie.
Proper he was, both young and gay,
His like was not in Fyvie—
Nor was there ane there that could compare
With this same Andrew Lammie.
And Fyvie he rode by the door,
Where lived Tifty’s Aunie—
His trumpeter rode him before
Even this same Andrew Lammie.
Her mother called her to the door,
Come here to me my Annie—
Did e’er you see a prettier man
Than the trumpeter of Fyvie.
