Rigs of Rye

Track 2 (Traditional, Arranged Niamh Parsons

and Graham Dunne).

It was in the month of sweet July,

Before the sun shone in the sky,

Down between two rigs of rye,

I heard two lovers talking.


He said ‘Lassie lassie, I must go away,

And so no longer with you can I stay,

But I’ve a word or two to say,

If you’ve a mind for to tarry.

Of you, your father he takes good care,

And your mother too, she combs down your yellow hair,

And your sisters too say they’ll get no share,

If you follow me love, a stranger.


And lassie, lassie, your fortune it is but small,

And perhaps it’s true that you’ve got none at all,

And I’m not a match love for you at all,

So go and give your love to another’.


‘Oh my father can fret and my mother can frown,

And my sisters too I do disown,

And if they were dead and below the ground,

I’d still follow you love, you’re no stranger’.


But this lassie’s courage began to fade,

And her rosy cheeks they soon grew wan and pale,

And the tears came trickling down like hail,

Or a heavy shower in summer.


And he’s taken her kerchief of linen so fine,

And he’s kissed her lips and then he’s dried her eyes,

Saying ‘Weep no more love for you shall be mine,

And all that I said was to try you’.


And this laddie was of courage bold,

A gallant chief, just nineteen years old,

And he’s made the hills and the valleys to roam,

And the young bonny lass has gone with him.


And this couple they are married now,

And they have babies one and two.

And they live in Brechin the winter through,

Aye, and in Montrose in the summer.