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 morning,
With innocence and graceful mien,
Her beauteous form adorning.
Lord Fyvie had a trumpeter,
Whose name was Andrew Lammie,
He had the art to gain the heart
Of Mill of Tiftie's Annie.
Proper he was both young and gay,
His like was not in Fyvie,
Nor was ane there that could compare,
With this same Andrew Lammie.
Lord Fyvie he rode by the door,
Where lived Tiftie's Annie,
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
Then the trumpeter of Fyvie.
