Rigs o Rye
Twas in the month o sweet July
Afore the sun had pierced the sky
Twas in below yon rigs o rye
That I heard twa lovers talkin
The lad said, "Lass, I must away
I have nae langer time tae stay
But I've a word or two tae say
If ye've the time, love, tae tarry"
"Yer faither o you he taks great care
Yer mither ties up your gowden hair
Yer sister says ye will get nae share
If ye gang wi me, love, a stranger"
"Let my faither fret an my mither froun
My sister's words I do disown
Tho they were deid an below the grun
I wad gang wi ye, love, a stranger"
"O lassie, lassie, yer fortune's smaa
Perhaps it will be nane at aa
Ye're no a match for me at aa
Gae lay ye yer love on some ither"
The lassie's courage began tae fail
Her lips grew wan an her cheeks grew pale
Her tears cam tricklin doun like hail
Or a heavy shower in the simmer
An the laddie he bein o courage fine
He's taen her up an he's kissed her syne
Sayin, "Lassie, lassie, ye will be mine
I said it aa for tae try ye"
An the laddie he bein o courage bauld
A lad scarcely nineteen years auld
He's ranged the hills an the valleys ower
An he's taen his bonnie lassie wi him
An this couple thae are mairriet nou
An thae hae bairnies, ane or two
Thae live in Brechin the winter thro
An in Montrose in the simmer