The Bonnie Lass of Fyvie 

(aka Maid of Fyfie-O)
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This example of "The Bonnie Lass of Fyvie" is performed by Mary Smith
Please refer to Cantaria's Copyright information

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There once was a troop of Irish dragoons 
Come marching down thru Fyvie-O 
And the captain fell in love wi' a very bonnie lass 
And he called her by name, pretty Peggy-O 

There's many a bonnie lass in the glen of Auchterlass 
There's many a bonnie lass in Gairioch-oO 
There's many a bonnie Jean in the streets of Aberdeen 
But the flower of them all lives in Fyvie, O 

Come trippin' down the stair, Pretty Peggy, my dear 
Come down the stairs, Pretty Peggy-O 
Come trippin' down the stairs, combin' back your yellow hair 
Bid a long farewell to your mammy-O 

It's braw, aye it's braw, a captain's lady for to be 
And it's braw to be a captain's lady-O 
It's braw to ride around and to follow the camp 
And to ride when your captain he is ready-O 

O I'll give you ribbons, love, and I'll give you rings 
I'll give you a necklace of amber-O 
I'll give you a silken petticoat with flounces to the knee 
If you'll convey me doon to your chamber-O 

What would your mother think if she heard the guineas clink 
And saw the haut-boys marching all before you-O 
O little would she think gin she heard the guineas clink 
If I followed a soldier laddie-O 

I never did intend a soldier's lady for to be 
A soldier shall never enjoy me-O 
I never did intend to gae tae a foreign land 
And I will never marry a soldier-O 

I'll drink nae more o your claret wine 
I'll drink nae more o your glasses-O 
Tomorrow is the day when we maun ride away 
So farewell tae your Fyvie lasses-O 

The colonel he cried, mount, boys, mount, boys, mount 
The captain, he cried, tarry-O
O tarry yet a while, just another day or twa 
Til I see if the bonnie lass will marry-O 

Twas in the early morning, when we marched awa 
And O but the captain he was sorry-O
The drums they did beat on the merry braes o' Gight 
And the band played the bonnie lass of Fyvie-O 

Long ere we came to the glen of Auchterlass 
We had our captain to carry-O
And long ere we won into the streets of Aberdeen 
We had our captain to bury-O 

Green grow the birks on bonnie Ethanside 
And low lie the lowlands of Fyvie-O 
The captain's name was Ned and he died for a maid 
He died for the bonny lass of Fyvie-O