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LIZAE BAILLIE

My bonny Lizae Baillie,
I’ll row ye in my plaidie,
And ye maun gang along wi’ me
And be a Highland lady.

I am sure they would not ca’ me wise,
Gin I would gang wi’ you, Sir;
For I can neither card nor spin,
Nor yet milk ewe nor cow, Sir.

My bonny Lizae Baillie,
Let nane of these things daunt ye;
Ye’ll hae nae need to card or spin,
Your mither weel can want ye.

Now she’s cast off her bonny shoon,
Made o’ the gilded leather,
And she’s put on her highland brogues,
To skip among the heather.

And she’s cast off her bonny gown,
Made o’ the silk and satin,
And she’s put on a tartan plaid,
To row among the bracken.

She would nae hae a Lawland laird,
Nor be an English lady;
But she would gang wi’ Duncan Graeme
And row her in his plaidie.

She was nae ten miles frae the town,
When she began to weary;
She often looked back, and said
Farewell to Castlecarry.

But I would nae gie my Duncan Graeme
For all my father’s land,
Though it were ten times ten times mair
And all at my command.

Now woe be to you loggerheads
That dwell near Castlecarry,
To let awa’ such a bonny lass,
A Highlandman to marry.

Traditional Scottish