The Earl of Aboyne - June Tabor

The earl of aboyne to london

Has gone and

All his nobles

With him

Sad was the heart

Of his lady fair because she

Could not go with him

The earl of aboyne to london

Has gone and

All his nobles

With him

Better he had stayed at home

Or taken his lady

With him

And as she walked out upon

The green among the

Gentlewomen

Sad was the letter that came to her

Hand that

Her lord was wed in london

And as she looked o'er

The castle wall she saw

Two boys a running

What news what news my bonny

Little boys what news

Have you of london

Good news good news my lady

Gay for the

Earl of aboyne

Is coming

And ere he's within two miles

Of your walls you

Hear his bridles ringing

My groom's all be well

In call and happy

Days they are shining

Gone are days spent

On the stays since the

Lord of aboyne is coming

And my mate's all be well in call

And happier

Flowers are shining

And cover the stair

With herbs sweet and fair and

The floors with the

Finest linen

And deck my body

In the finest

Array and my

Hood of the brightest linen

And my apron shall be of the good silk cloth

Since the earl of aboyne is coming

So stately she stepped

Down the stair to see if

He was coming

And her gown was of the good

Green silk trimmed

With her red silk trimming

She's called to kate her waiting

Maid and jean her

Gentl ewoman

Come fetch me a glass of

The very best wine

To drink his health he's coming

She gone out to the close

To her lord says

Him welcome for your coming

She gone out to the close

To her lord says

Him thrice welcome from

London

If I be of this welcome

As you say

Then kiss me for my coming

For tomorrow should have been

My wedding day if I'd

Stayed any longer in london

She turned the around

With a look of distaste

Says woe's me for your coming

Since tomorrow should have been

Your wedding day then go

Kiss your w in london

My nobles all come mount

Your steed I'm sorry for

My coming

Tonight we shall

Lie at the bonny bogie's

Side since

Tomorrow the course is to london

Tom my man run after him

And beg him

To take me with him

I've asked him once and

I've asked him the

More and it's never

A mile you'll ride with him

Then a year and a day she lived in woe

And the doctors

They were dealing

Until at last her heart

It broke and letters were

Sent to london

When he saw the letters

All edged in black

He's bound to grievest weeping

She is dead that I loved most and I

Had but a heart in keeping

There were fifteen of noblest

Lords that london could provide

Him

From their hose to their

Hat they were all dressed

In black to mourn for

Bonny peggy irvine

And the farther he rode

The sorer he wept for

He had but a heart in keeping

Sooner I had lost

All the lands of aboyne

Than my bonnie peggy irvine