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Elphinstone Kist   Traditional Ballad, Music

Bonnie John Seton     by: Traditional

It fell about the month of June,
On Tuesday, timouslie,
The northern lords hae pitch’d their camps
Beyond the Brig o’ Dee.

They ca’ed him Major Middleton,
That man’d the brig o’ Dee;
They ca’ed him Colonel Henderson,
That gar'd the cannons flee.

Bonny John Seton o Pitmedden,
A brave baron was he;
He made his tesment ere he gaed,
And the wiser man was he.

He left his lands unto his heir,
His lady her dowrie;
Ten thousand crowns to Lady Jane,
Sat on the nourice knee.

Then out it speaks his lady gay
'Oh stay my lord wi me;
For word is come, the cause is won
Beyond the Brig o Dee.'

He turned him right and round about,
And a light laugh gaed he;
Says, 'I wouldna for my lands sae broad,
I stayed the night wi thee.'

He's taen his sword then by his side,
His buckler by his kneew:
And laid his leg in oer his horse,
Said 'Sodgers, follow me!'

So he rade on, and further on,
Till on the third mile corse:
The Covenanters' cannon balls
Dang him aff o his horse.

Up then rides him Craigievar,
Said 'Wha's this lying here?
It surely is the Lord o Aboyne,
For Huntly was not here.'
Then out speaks a fause Forbes,
Lived up in Druminner;
'My lord, this is proud Seton,
The rest will ride the thinner.'

'Spulzie him, spulzie him,' said Criagievar,
'O spulzie him presentlie,
For I could lay my lugs in pawn,
He had nae gude will at me.’

They’ve taen the shoes frae aff his feet,
The garters frae his knee;
Likewise the gloves upon his hands,
They’ve left him not a flee.

His fingers they were sae sair swell’d
The rings would not come aff;
They cuttet the grips out o his ears,
Took out the gowd signots.

Then they rade on and further on
Till they cam to the Crabestane;
And Craigievar he had a mind
To burn a’ Aberdeen.

Out it speaks the gallant Montrose,
(Grace on his fair body!)
We winna burn the bonny burgh
We'll even lat it be.'

Then out it speaks the gallant Montrose
'Your purpose I will break;
We winna burn the bonnie burgh,
We'll never build its maik.

I see the women and their children,
Climbing the crags sae high;
We'll sleep this nicht in the bonnie burgh
And even lat it be.'

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