Bonny Lizie Bailie/Bonny Lizie Bailie

BONNY LIZIE BAILIE.

IT fell upon the Lambass-tide,
⁠when the leaves were fresh and green,
Lizie Bailie’s to Gartartan gone,
⁠to see her sister Jean.

She had not been long in Gartartan,
⁠even but a little while,
Till luck and fortune happen’d to her,
⁠and she went to the Isle.

And when she went unto the Isle,
⁠she met with Duncan Graham;
So bravely as he courted her,
⁠and he convoy’d her hame.

My bonny Lizie Bailie,
⁠I'll row thee in my plaidie,
If thou wilt go along with me,
⁠and be my Highland Lady.

If I would go along with you,
⁠they’d think I were not wife,
For I can neither milk cow nor ewe,
⁠nor yet can I speak Earse;

Hold thy tongue bonny Lizie Bailie,
⁠and hold thy tongue, said he,
For any thing that thou dost lack,
⁠my dear I will learn thee.

She would not have a lowland laird,
⁠that wears the high heel’d shoes;
But she will marry Duncan Graham,
⁠for Duncan he wears trews.

She would not have a gentleman,
⁠a farmer in Kilsyth,
But she would have the Highlandman
⁠that lives into Montieth.

She would not have the Lowlandman,
⁠nor yet the English Laddie,
But she would have the Highlandman
⁠to row her in his plaidie.

He took her by the milk-white hand,
⁠and he convoy’d her hame,
And still she thought both night and day
⁠on bonny Duncan Graham.

O my bonny Duncan Graham,
⁠why should you me miscarry,
For if you have a love for me,
⁠we’ll meet at Castle-Carry.

As I came in by Denny-bridge,
⁠and by the Holland-bush,
My mother took from me my clothes,
⁠my rings, ay, and my purse.

Hold your tongue my mother dear,
⁠for that I do not care ;
For I will go with Duncan Graham,
⁠though I should ne’er get mair.

For first when I met Duncan Ghraham,
⁠I met with meikle joy,
And mony a pretty Highlandman,
⁠was there at my convoy.

And now she is gone through the muir,
⁠and he is through the glen:
O my bonny Lizie Bailie,
⁠when will we meet again ?

Shame light on these logar-heads,
⁠that lives in Castle-Cary,
That let away the bonny Lass,
⁠the Highlandman to marry.

O bonny Lizie stay at hame,
⁠thy mother cannot want thee,
For any thing that thou dost want,
⁠my dear, I’ll surely grant thee.

I would not give my Duncan Graham
⁠for all my father’s land,
Although he had three lairdships mair,
⁠and all at my command.

Now she’s cast aff her silken gown,
⁠that she wore in the Lowlands,
And she’s up to the Higland hills,
⁠to wear the gowns of tartans.

And she's cast aff her high heel’d shoes,
⁠was made of oiled leather ;
And she’s up to the Highland hills,
⁠to gang among the heather.

And she’s cast aff her high heel’d shoes,
⁠put on a pair of laigh ones,
And she's away with Duncan Graham,
⁠to go amang the brechans :

O my bonny Lizie Bailie,
⁠thy mother cannot want thee;
And if thou go with Duncan Graham,
⁠there’ll be a Killicrankie.

Hold your tongue my mother dear,
⁠with your folly let me be,
Should I not fancy Duncan Graham,
⁠’fore all the men I see.

Who is it that has done this turn ?
⁠or who hath done this deed ?
A minister it’s, father, she says,
⁠lives at the Red Burn-bridge.

A minister, daughter, he says,
⁠a minister for mister;
O hold your tongue my father dear,
⁠he marry’d first my sister.

So fare you well my daughter dear,
⁠so dearly as I love thee ;
Since thou wilt go with Duncan Graham,
⁠thou'lt get no gear from me.

O fare you well my father dear,
⁠also my sister Betty :
O fare you well my mother dear
⁠I leave you all completely.