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Bonnie Lass of Fyvie

Gaberlunzie
Bonnie Lass O' Fyvie

Gaberlunzie - The Travelling Man - Bonnie Lass O' Fyvie

There once was a troop of Irish dragoons
Come marching down thru Fyfie, O.
And the captain fell in love with a very bonnie lass
And the name she was called was pretty Peggy-o.

There's many a bonnie lass in the glen of Auchterless
There's many a bonnie lass in Garioch-o
There's many a bonnie Jean in the streets of Aberdeen
But the flower of them all lives in Fyvie, O.

O come down the stairs, Pretty Peggy, my dear
Come down the stairs, Pretty Peggy-o
Come down the stairs, comb back your yellow hair
Bid a long farewell to your mammy-o.

It's braw, aye it's braw, a captain's lady for to be
And it's braw to be a captain's lady-o.
It's braw to ride around and to follow the camp,
And to ride when your captain he is ready-o.

O I'll give you ribbons, love, and I'll give you rings,
I'll give you a necklace of amber-o,
I'll give you a silken petticoat with flounces to the knee,
If you'll convey me doon to your chamber-o.

What would your mother think if she heard the guineas clink
And saw the haut-boys marching all before you O?
O little would she think gin she heard the guineas clink,
If I followed a soldier laddie-o.

I never did intend a soldier's lady for to be,
A soldier shall never enjoy me-o.
I never did intend to gae tae a foreign land
And I will never marry a soldier-o.

I'll drink nae more o your claret wine,
I'll drink nae more o your glasses-o.
Tomorrow is the day when we maun ride away,
So farewell tae your Fyvie lasses-o.

The colonel he cried, mount, boys, mount,boys, mount.
The captain, he cried, tarry-o.
O tarry yet a while, just another day or twa,
Til I see if the bonnie lass will marry-o.

Twas in the early morning, when we marched awa,
And O but the captain he was sorry-o.
The drums they did beat a merry brasselgeicht,
And the band played the bonnie lass of Fyvie, O.

Long ere we came to the glen of Auchterlass,
We had our captain to carry-o.
And long ere we won into the streets of Aberdeen
We had our captain to bury-o.

Green grow the birks on bonnie Ethanside,
And low lie the lowlands of Fyvie, O.
The captain's name was Ned and he died for a maid,
He died for the bonny lass of Fyvie, O

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