Jean O' Bethelnie

There were four and twenty nobles fasted at the king's ha'

And bonnie Glenlogie was the flo'er o' them a'

There were nine and nine nobles rade thro' Banchory fair

Aye, bonnie Glenlogie was the flo'er o' them there

There were six and six maidens fasted at the king's ha'

Bonnie Jean o' Bethelnie was the flo'er o' them a'

Doon cam' Jeannie Gordon, she cam' trippin' doon the stair

She's chosen Glenlogie o' a' that was there

"Glenlogie, Glenlogie, gin ye'll prove sae kind

My love is laid upon you, I've tell'd ye my mind"

He's turnin' 'roon lightly as the Gordons does a'

"I'm sorry, Jeannie Gordon, I'm promised awa'"

So he's ca'ed tae her maidens for tae make her a bed

Aye wi' ribbons an' wi' napkins tae tie up her heid

An' it's up an' spak' her faither, well a wae man wis he

"I'll wad ye tae Dunfermline, he's mair gowd than he"

"Ye haud your tongue, faither, for this winna be

Gin I get me Glenlogie, for him will I dee"

Her faither's ain chaplain, he's a man o' great skill

He's write a braid letter, and indited him weel

Saying, "A pox on ye, Logie, noo sin' it is so

There's a lady's love laid on ye, must she'll die in her woe?

An' a pox on ye, Logie, noo sin' it is time

There's a lady's love laid on ye, must she die in her prime?"

When Glenlogie's got the letter, him bein' amangst men

Ach, it's up an' spak' Glenlogie, "What does young women mean?"

Then he looked at the letter, a light lauch gied he

Aye, but e'er he read ower it, a tear blint his e'e

"Saddle me the black horse, saddle me the broon

Bonnie Jeannie o' Bethelnie will be deid e'er I win"

But the horses wisnae saddled, nor led on the green

Aye, an' bonnie Glenlogie was twelve miles his lane

It was pale and wan was she when Glenlogie cam' in

But was red and rosy grew she when she kent it was him

"Whaur lies your pain, lady? Does it lie in your side?

Whaur lies your pain, lady? Does in lie in your heid?"

"Oh no, no, Glenlogie, you're far frae the pairt

For the pain that ye speak of, oh it lies in my heart"

"Turn 'roon, Jeannie Gordon, turn 'roon on your side

It's I'll be the bridegroom, ye'll be the bride"

Oh noo Jeannie's gotten mairried and her tocher doon told

Bonnie Jean o' Bethelnie was scarce sixteen years auld

Bethelnie, oh Bethelnie, ye shine whaur ye stand

And the heather bells aroon ye shine ower Fyvie's land