Lord Thomas And Fair Annie

Lord Thomas was a very fine man
Went oot to hunt his career.
Fair Annie she was the fairest woman
That ever the sun shone on,
That ever the sun shone on.

Lord Thomas he spoke a word in jest,
And Annie she took it ill.
He said, 'I'll marry nane o' your mean maidens
Withoot my parents' will,
Withoot my parents' will.'

Then Thomas he is hame to his mither
And bowed low doon til his knee,
O shall I wed the nut-brown may
Or shall I wed fair Annie?
Or shall I wed fair Annie?

The nut-brown maid she has cows and ewes,
Fair Annie she has nane,
And for my blessin's, my son Thomas,
I pray ye let her alane,
I pray ye let her alane.

Then oot it spak his little sister,
Stood by her nurse's knee.
'O marry ye your fair Annie
And let the ither yen be,
And let the ither yen be.'

'A coo may dee in her calvin,
An ox may droon in the mire,
But marry ye your fair Annie,
Ye'll get your heart's desire,
Ye'll get your heart's desire.'

'A coo may dee in her calvin,
Or an ox may hing in the ploo,
But marry ye your fair Annie,
And ye'll get gear eneugh,
And ye'll get gear eneugh.'

Lord Thomas he's gane to Annie's bower door,
And tirled low at the pin,
Nae readier was than fair Annie
To let Lord Thomas in,
To let Lord Thomas in.

It's will ye come to my weddin', Annie?
The morn's tae be the day.
'It's never a fit.' said fair Annie.
'Unless the bride I be,
Unless the bride I be.'

Lord Thomas he gaed up the high highway,
And Annie gaed doon the glen.
An' Annie shone as fair her lane
As Thomas and a' his men.
As Thomas and a' his men.

O where got ye the water, Annie,
That washed ye sae clean?
I got it by my mither's bower door
Beneath a marble stane,
Beneath a marble stane.

O, ye maun wear my hat, Annie,
And ye maun wear my glove.
Until my wife hae born a son.
And that will end our love.
And that will end our love,

I winna wear your hat, Lord Thomas,
I winna wear your glove,
But ye maun gie't your nut-brown bride,
Tae her ye's constant prove.
Tae her ye's constant prove.

Then he sent hame wi' fair Annie
His hairt and his hairt's bleid,
But ere the hour of twal o the clock
Fair Annie she was deid,
Fair Annie she was deid.

Then Thomas he's gane to Annie's bower door.
And tirled low at the pin,
Nae readier was than Annie's mither
To let Lord Thomas in.
To let Lord Thomas in.

O deal ye weel at my lover's lyke
The white breid and the wine.
And ere the morn at twelve o' the clock
Ye'll deal as weel at mine.
Ye'll deal as weel at mine.

The ane was laid in Mary's kirk
And the ither in Mary's choir,
And fae the yen, there sprang a birk
Frae the ither a bonny sweet brier,
Frae the ither a bonny sweet brier.
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