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
