Classic Poem

Aften hae I play'd at the cards and the dice,
For the love of a bonie rantin laddie;
But now I maun sit in my father's kitchen neuk,
Below a bastart babie. —

For my father he will not me own,
And my mother she neglects me,
And a' my friends hae lightlyed me,
And their servants they do slight me. —

But had I a servant at my command,
As aft-times I've had many,
That wad rin wi' a letter to bonie Glenswood,
Wi' a letter to my rantin laddie. —

Oh, is he either a laird, or a lord,
Or is he but a cadie,
That ye do him ca' sae aften by name,
Your bonie, bonie rantin laddie. —

Indeed he is baith a laird and a lord,
And he never was a cadie;
But he is the Earl o' bonie Aboyne,
And he is my rantin laddie. —

O ye 'se get a servant at your command,
As aft-times ye've had many,
That sall rin wi' a letter to bonie Glenswood,
A letter to your rantin laddie. —

When lord Aboyne did the letter get,
O but he blinket bonie;
But or he had read three lines of it,
I think his heart was sorry. —

O wha is he daur be sae bauld,
Sae cruelly to use my lassie?

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For her father he will not her know,
And her mother she does slight her,
And a' her friends hae lightlied her,
And their servants they neglect her. —

Go raise to me my five hundred men,
Make haste and make them ready;
With a milkwhite steed under every ane,
For to bring hame my lady. —

As they cam in thro Buchan shire,
They were a company bonie,
With a gude claymore in every hand,
And O, but they shin'd bonie. —