Luyện nghe bài hát Andrew Lammie

By Mill o Tifty there a man
In the o' Fyvie
He had a daughter fair
And called her bonnie Annie

Lord Fyvie had a
name was Andrew Lammie
And he had the art to gain the
O' Mill o' Tyfty's

Lord he rode by the door
Where lived Annie
His trumpeter him before
Even this Andrew Lammie

Her cried her to the door
Come to me my Annie
Did ye see a prettier man
Than the trumpeter o'

Ah nothing she said but fu sore
alas for bonnie Annie
For she durst not own her was won
By the trumpeter o'

But at when a' goes to beds
All sleep true sound but
so oppressed her tender breast
And love will wast her

The time me and my love met
Was in the woods o'
He me mistress I said no
I'm Mill o' Tyfty's

My love I go to Edinburgh
And for a mon leave ye
O' but I'll be dede afore return
In the green o' Fyvie

Her father her wondrous sore
And likewise did her
Her sisters all so did her
But woe be to her

Her brother struck her sore
cruel strokes and many
For he broke her back the temple stein
The stein o' Fyvie

O' dear now make my bed
And lay my face to'erd
For I will lie and I die
For love o Andrew

Her mother she make her bed
And laid her face toerd
And its she lay and its there she died
For Love o Lammie