The bonnie Lass o' Fyvie

There once was a troop o' Irish dragoons, Cam marching doon through Fyvie-o. And the captain's fa'en in love wi' a very bonnie lass, And her name it is cried, "pretty Peggy-o". There's many a bonnie lass in the howe o' Auchterless. There's many a bonnie lass in the Garioch. There's many a bonnie Jean in the streets o' Aiberdeen, But the floower o' them aw lies in Fyvie-o. O' come doon the stair, pretty Peggy, my dear, Come doon the stair, pretty Peggy-o. Come doon the stair, bind up your yellow hair, Tak a last fareweell o' your daddy-o. Then up cries the colonel, "mount, boys, mount!", "Tarry!" says the captain, "O-tarry-o!". O-tarry for a while, for another day or twa, Til I see if this bonnie lass will marry-o. Twas in the early morning, when we marched awa, O' but the captain was sorry-o. The drums they did beat o'er the bonnie braes o' Gight, The pipes played the lowlands of Fyvie-o. Alang 'ere we come tae auld Meldrum toon, We had our captain to carry-o. Alang 'ere we come, to bonnie Aiberdeen, We had our captain to bury-o. Green grow the birks on bonnie Ythanside, Low lie the lowlands of Fyvie-o. The captain's name was Ned and he died for a maid, He died for the chambermaid of Fyvie-o. I never did intend a soldier's lady for to be, I never will marry a soldier-o. I never did intend to gae tae a foreign land, And I never will marry a soldier-o. It's braw, aye it's braw, a captain's lady for to be, Braw to be a captain's lady-o. Braw to rant and roam, to follow at his word, And ride when your captain he is ready-o.