'Twas in the month of sweet July, Before the sun had pierced the sky; Down between two rigs of rye I heard two lovers talking. Said he, "Lassie, I must away, Along with you I cannot stay, But I've a word or two to say If you've the time to listen." "Of your father he takes great care, Your mother combs your yellow hair; But your sisters say you'll get no share If you follow me, a stranger." "My father may fret and my mother may frown, My sisters too I do disown; If they were all dead and below the ground I would follow you, a stranger." "Oh lassie, lassie, your portion's small, Perhaps it may be none at all. You're not a match for me at all So go and wed with some other." The lassie's courage began to fail, Her rosy cheeks grew wan and pale; And the tears come trickling down like hail, Or a heavy shower in the summer. This lad he being of courage fine, He's dried her tears and he's kissed her eyes, Saying, "Weep no more lass, you shall be mine, I said it all to try you." This couple they are married now, And they have bairnies one and two; And they live in Brechin the winter through, Aye, and in Montrose in summer.