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Then up the ſtair this trumpeter,
he calls ſoon and ſhortly
Pray tell me ſoon what's this you've done,
to Tiftie's bonny annie.
Woe betide Mill of Tiftie's pride,
for it has ruin'd many,
He'd not have it ſaid, that ſhe ſhould wed,
the trumpeter of Fyvie.
In wicked art I had no part,
not therein am I canny,
True love alone the heart has won,
of Tiftie's bonny annie,
Where will I find a boy ſo kind,
that will carry a letter canny,
Who will run on to Tiftie's town,
give it to my love annie,
Here ye ſhall and a boy ſo kind,
who will carry a letter canny,
That will run on to Tiftie's town,
and give it to thy love annie.
Tiftie he has daughters three,
who all are wond'rous bonny,
But ye'll ken her o'er a' the lave,
give that to bonny annie
It's up and down in Tiftie's den,
where the burn runs clear and bonny,
There wilt thou come and meet thy love,
thy bonny andrew Lammie
When wilt thou come and I'll attend,
my love I long to ſee thee,
Thou may'ſt come to the bridge of Sheugh,
and there I'll come and meet thee.
