Bonnie Mae

Bonnie Mae a-shepherding has gone

To call the sheep to the fold

And aye, as she sang, her bonny voice, it rang

Right over the tops of the downs, downs

Over the tops of the downs

There came a troop of gentlemen

As they were riding by

And one of them has lighted down

And he's asked of her the way, the way

He's asked of her the way

"Ride on, ride on, you rank riders

Your steeds are stout and strong

For it's out of the fold I will not go

For fear you'll do me wrong, wrong

Fear you'll do me wrong"

Now he's taken her by the middle jip

And by the green gown sleeve

And there he's had his will of her

And he's asked of her no leave, no leave

He's asked of her no leave

"Oh I've ridden east and I've ridden west

And I've ridden o'er the downs

But the bonniest lass that ever I saw

Is calling her sheep to the fold"

She has taken the milk pail on her head

And she's gone lingering home

And all her father said to her

Was, "Daughter, you've done me wrong, wrong

Daughter, you've done me wrong"

Now twenty weeks were gone and past

Twenty weeks and three

And the lassie began to fret and to frown

And to long for his twinkling eye, bright eye

Long for his twinkling eye

Now it fell on a day, and a bonny summer's day

For she walked out alone

That selfsame troop of gentlemen

Came riding o'er the downs, downs

Riding o'er the downs

"Who got the babe with thee, Bonnie Mae?

Who got the babe in thy arms?"

For shame she blushed and aye, she said

"Oh I've a good man of my own"

"You lie, you lie, you bonny, bonny Mae

So loud I hear you lie

Remember the misty, murky night

I lay in the fold with thee, with thee

I lay in the fold with thee

Now he's lighted off his berry-brown steed

He's set the fair Mae on

"Go call out your fold, good father, yourself

She'll ne'er call them again, again

She'll ne'er call them again"

For he's the Lord of Achentrioch

With fifty plough and three

And he's taken away the bonniest lass

In all the south country, country

In all the south country