The Death of Annie Laurie.I sung, when in the Crimea,My bonnie Annie’s praise,My heart then turn’d in exile,To sweet Maxwelton’s braes.To sweet Maxwelton’s braes,But sweet nae mair for me,For I hae seen wi’ anguish,Their fairest blossom dee.When war’s alarms were over,I sought my loved ane’s bower,But death’s cauld breath was blighting,Blighting my bonnie flower.Blighting my bonnie flower,And I nae help could gie,Oh, why, when in the battle,Did I na’ fa’ an’ dee.I saw her cheek grow thinner,Yet flush wi’ hectic’s hue,I mark’d her e’e’s strange brightness,Those e’es o’ darkest blue.Those e’es o’ darkest blue,That beam’d sae saft on me,When I cried my Annie Laurie,I can na’ see thee dee.Then calm as to nightly slumber,She sank in my arms to rest,An’ the wild flowers o’ spring now cumberThe sod upon her breast.The sod upon her breast,Oh, what wad I na’ gie,If beside my Annie LaurieI could lay down an’ dee.
The Death of Annie Laurie.I sung, when in the Crimea,My bonnie Annie’s praise,My heart then turn’d in exile,To sweet Maxwelton’s braes.To sweet Maxwelton’s braes,But sweet nae mair for me,For I hae seen wi’ anguish,Their fairest blossom dee.When war’s alarms were over,I sought my loved ane’s bower,But death’s cauld breath was blighting,Blighting my bonnie flower.Blighting my bonnie flower,And I nae help could gie,Oh, why, when in the battle,Did I na’ fa’ an’ dee.I saw her cheek grow thinner,Yet flush wi’ hectic’s hue,I mark’d her e’e’s strange brightness,Those e’es o’ darkest blue.Those e’es o’ darkest blue,That beam’d sae saft on me,When I cried my Annie Laurie,I can na’ see thee dee.Then calm as to nightly slumber,She sank in my arms to rest,An’ the wild flowers o’ spring now cumberThe sod upon her breast.The sod upon her breast,Oh, what wad I na’ gie,If beside my Annie LaurieI could lay down an’ dee.
The Death of Annie Laurie.I sung, when in the Crimea,My bonnie Annie’s praise,My heart then turn’d in exile,To sweet Maxwelton’s braes.To sweet Maxwelton’s braes,But sweet nae mair for me,For I hae seen wi’ anguish,Their fairest blossom dee.When war’s alarms were over,I sought my loved ane’s bower,But death’s cauld breath was blighting,Blighting my bonnie flower.Blighting my bonnie flower,And I nae help could gie,Oh, why, when in the battle,Did I na’ fa’ an’ dee.I saw her cheek grow thinner,Yet flush wi’ hectic’s hue,I mark’d her e’e’s strange brightness,Those e’es o’ darkest blue.Those e’es o’ darkest blue,That beam’d sae saft on me,When I cried my Annie Laurie,I can na’ see thee dee.Then calm as to nightly slumber,She sank in my arms to rest,An’ the wild flowers o’ spring now cumberThe sod upon her breast.The sod upon her breast,Oh, what wad I na’ gie,If beside my Annie LaurieI could lay down an’ dee.
I sung, when in the Crimea,My bonnie Annie’s praise,My heart then turn’d in exile,To sweet Maxwelton’s braes.To sweet Maxwelton’s braes,But sweet nae mair for me,For I hae seen wi’ anguish,Their fairest blossom dee.
I sung, when in the Crimea,
My bonnie Annie’s praise,
My heart then turn’d in exile,
To sweet Maxwelton’s braes.
To sweet Maxwelton’s braes,
But sweet nae mair for me,
For I hae seen wi’ anguish,
Their fairest blossom dee.
When war’s alarms were over,I sought my loved ane’s bower,But death’s cauld breath was blighting,Blighting my bonnie flower.Blighting my bonnie flower,And I nae help could gie,Oh, why, when in the battle,Did I na’ fa’ an’ dee.
When war’s alarms were over,
I sought my loved ane’s bower,
But death’s cauld breath was blighting,
Blighting my bonnie flower.
Blighting my bonnie flower,
And I nae help could gie,
Oh, why, when in the battle,
Did I na’ fa’ an’ dee.
I saw her cheek grow thinner,Yet flush wi’ hectic’s hue,I mark’d her e’e’s strange brightness,Those e’es o’ darkest blue.Those e’es o’ darkest blue,That beam’d sae saft on me,When I cried my Annie Laurie,I can na’ see thee dee.
I saw her cheek grow thinner,
Yet flush wi’ hectic’s hue,
I mark’d her e’e’s strange brightness,
Those e’es o’ darkest blue.
Those e’es o’ darkest blue,
That beam’d sae saft on me,
When I cried my Annie Laurie,
I can na’ see thee dee.
Then calm as to nightly slumber,She sank in my arms to rest,An’ the wild flowers o’ spring now cumberThe sod upon her breast.The sod upon her breast,Oh, what wad I na’ gie,If beside my Annie LaurieI could lay down an’ dee.
Then calm as to nightly slumber,
She sank in my arms to rest,
An’ the wild flowers o’ spring now cumber
The sod upon her breast.
The sod upon her breast,
Oh, what wad I na’ gie,
If beside my Annie Laurie
I could lay down an’ dee.