The Laird o'Drum

Oh, the Laird o' Drum's a-hunting gone
All in the morning early
There he spied a well-favored lass
She was shearing her father’s barley
Shearing her father’s barley

Oh, would ye nae be a gentleman’s wife
Would ye nae be his lady?
And would ye nae be of some higher degree,
And leave yer shearin’ alone-o?
And leave yer shearin’ alone-o

My father’s a poor shepherd man
Keeps sheep on yonders hill-o
And anything that he bids me do
Well, I’m always at his command-o
Well, I’m always at his command-o

The lassie can neither read nor write
She was never at a school-o
But any other thing, right well can she do
For I learnt the lassie myself-o
For I learnt the lassie myself-o

She can’t wash your china cups,
Nor make a cup of tea-oh
But right well can she milk either cow or yow
With a baby on her knee-o
With a baby on her knee-o

Who will bake your bridal bread?
And who will brew your ale-o?
And who will stand at the gate of the Drum
To welcome my bonnie lassie home-o?
To welcome my bonnie lassie home-o?

The baker can bake my bridal bread
The brewer can brew my ale-oh
And I will stand at the gate of the Drum
To welcome my bonnie lassie home-o
To welcome my bonnie lassie home-o

Then up and spoke his brother John
A man of high degree-o
Says you’re marryin’ a wife, this same night
And she’s not a match for thee-o
And she’s not a match for thee-o

The last lady who lived in this house
She was far above our degree-o
We dared not enter into her room
Till our hats were below our knee-o
Till our hats were below our knee-o

If you was dead and I was dead,
And buried in one grave-o
Nine years down, and lifted up again,
Who't to ken your dust from mine-o?
Ken your dust from mine-o?