Testo Rigs O Rye

Twas in the month o sweet July Before the sun had pierced the sky Twas in below yon rigs o rye That I heard twa lovers talkin The lad said, "Lass, I must away I have nae longer time tae stay But I've a word or two tae say If ye've the time, love, tae tarry" "Your faither o you he taks great care Your mither ties up your golden hair Your sister says ye will get nae share If ye gang wi me, love, a stranger" "Let my faither fret an my mither froun My sister's words I do disown Tho they were deid an below the ground I wad gang wi ye, love, a stranger" "O lassie, lassie, your fortune's smaa Perhaps it will be nane at aa You're no a match for me at aa Gae lay ye your love on some ither" The lassie's courage began tae fail Her lips grew wan and her cheeks grew pale Her tears cam tricklin doun like hail Or a heavy shower in the simmer An the laddie he bein o courage fine He's taen her up an he's kissed her syne Sayin, "Lassie, lassie, ye will be mine I said it aa for tae try ye" An the laddie he bein o courage bold A lad scarcely nineteen years old He's ranged the hills an the valleys owre An he's taen his bonnie lassie wi him An this couple they are mairriet nou An they hae bairnies, ane or two They live in Brechin the winter through An in Montrose in the simmer