Celtic Lyrics Corner > Artists & Groups > Tannahill Weavers > Leaving St. Kilda > The Rigs O' Rye
'Twas in the month o' sweet July
Before the sun shone in the sky
There in between twa rigs o' rye
That I heard twa lovers talkin'
He said, "My love, I must gang away
No longer can I bide wi' ye
But I hae a word or twa tae say
Gin ye hae the time for tae tarry
Your faither o' ye, he tak's guid care
Your mither combs back your golden hair
Your sisters say that you'll get nae share
Gin ye follow me, a stranger"
"Let faither fret and my mither frown
My sisters twa I do disown
Though a' were deid and below the grun
I would go wi' you, a stranger"
"But lass, your fortune, it is but sma'
And maybe there will be nane ava'
You're no' the match for me at a'
So go lay your love on another"
The lass's courage began to fail
Her rosie cheeks grew wan and pale
Her tears cam' tricklin' doon like hail
Or a sudden shower in the summer
He's ta'en his kerchief o' the linen fine
He's dried her tears and he's kissed her syne
Sayin', "Weep nae mair, lass, ye will be mine
I said it all for tae try you"
This lad, he bein' o' the courage bold
A gallant chiel but nineteen years old
He's made the hills and the valleys roar
And the bonnie lassie's gone wi' him