Jean O Bethelnie

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There were four-and-twenty nobles fasted at the king's ha'
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And bonnie Glenlogie was the flo'er o' them a'
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There were nine and nine nobles rade thro' Banchory fair
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Aye, bonnie Glenlogie was the flo'er o' them there

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There were six-and-six maidens fasted at the king's ha'
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Bonnie Jean o' Bethelnie was the flo'er o' them a'
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Doon cam' Jeannie Gordon, she cam' trippin' doon the stair
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She's chosen Glenlogie o' a' that was there

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"Glenlogie, Glenlogie, gin ye'll prove sae kind
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My love is laid upon you, I've tell'd ye my mind"
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He's turnin' 'roon lightly as the Gordons does a'
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"I'm sorry, Jeannie Gordon, but I'm promised awa'"

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So he's ca'ed tae her maidens for tae make her a bed
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Aye, wi' ribbons an' wi' napkins tae tie up her heid
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An' it's up an' spak' her faither, well a wae man wis he
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"I'll wad ye tae Dunfermline, he's mair gowd than he"

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"Ye haud your tongue, faither, for this winna be
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Gin I get me Glenlogie, for him will I dee"
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Her faither's ain chaplain, he's a man o' great skill
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He's write a braid letter, oh, indicted him weel

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Saying, "A pox on ye, Logie, noo sin' it is so
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There's a lady's love laid on ye, must she die in her woe?
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And a pox on ye, Logie, noo sin' it is time
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There's a lady's love laid on ye, must she die in her prime?"

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When Glenlogie's got the letter, him bein' amangst men
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Ach, it's up an' spak' Glenlogie, "What does yon woman mean?"
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Then he looked at the letter, a light lauch gied he
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Aye, but e'er he read ower it, ach, a tear blint his e'e

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"Ga' saddle me the black horse, saddle me the broon
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Bonnie Jean o' Bethelnie will be deid e'er I win"
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But the horses was nae saddled, nor led on the green
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Aye, an' bonnie Glenlogie was twelve miles his lane

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It was pale and wan was she when Glenlogie cam' in
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But was red and rosy grew she when she kent it was him
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"Whaur lies your pain, lady? Does it lie in your side?
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Whaur lies your pain, lady? Does it lie in your heid?"

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"Oh no, no, Glenlogie, you're far frae the pairt
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For the pain that ye speak of, oh it lies in my heart"
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"Turn 'roon, Jeannie Gordon, turn 'roon on your side
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It's I'll be the bridegroom, ye'll be the bride"

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Oh, noo Jeannie's gotten mairried and her tocher doon told
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Bonnie Jean o' Bethelnie was scarce sixteen years auld
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Bethelnie, oh Bethelnie, ye shine whaur ye stand
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And the heather bells aroon ye shine ower Fyvie's land

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