Luyện nghe bài hát Andrew Lammie

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

Lord had a trumpeter
Whose name was Lammie
And he had the art to the heart
O' Mill o' Annie

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

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

Ah she said but sighed fu sore
'Twas for bonnie Annie
For she durst not own her was won
By the o' Fyvie

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

The first me and my love met
Was in the o' Fyvie
He called me mistress I no
I'm Mill o' Annie

My I go to Edinburgh toon
And for a while mon ye
O' but I'll be afore your return
In the kirkyard o' Fyvie

Her father struck her wondrous
And likewise did her
Her all so did her scorn
But woe be to her

Her struck her wondrous sore
With cruel and many
For he broke her back under the stein
The temple stein o'

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

Her she gang make her bed
And laid her face Fyvie
And its there she lay and its there she
For Love o Andrew