Traditional
Bonnie Jeannie o’Bethelnie
There was four and twenty nobles stood at the king's ha'
And bonny Glenlogie was a flo'er o' them a'
And there was six and six nobles raed thru Banchory Fair
And bonny Glenlogie was the flo'er o' them there

And there was nine and nine ladies sat in the king's ha'
And Jeannie o' Bethalnie was the flo'er o' them a'
Doon come Jeannie Gordon, she cam trippin' doonstairs
And she's chosen Glenlogie above a' that was thеre

“Glenlogie, oh Glеnlogie, gin you will prove kind
My love is laid on ye, and I've tell'd ye my mind.”
But he's turned him roon'd lately as the Gordons does a'
“I thank you, Jeannie Gordon, but I'm promised awa'.”

And she's ca'ed tae her maidens, for to make her a bed
Wi' ribbons and napkins for 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"

O' Hold your tongue, faether, for that winna be
Gin I get me Glenlogie, and for him will I dee"
But her faither's ain chaplain, a man o' great skill
He's write a braid letter, and indited it weel

Saying, "A pox on ye, Logie, noo sin' it is so
There's a lady's love laid on ye, must she' die in her woe?
An' a pox on ye, Logie, noo sin's it is time
There's a lady's love laid on ye, must she die in her prime?"
And when logie read the letter, he bein' amang men
Ach, it's up an' spak' Glenlogie, "What does young women mean?"
But when he looked at the letter, a light lauch gied he
Aye, but e'er he read ower it, well a tear blint his e'e

"Saddle me the black horse, and ye saddle me the broon
Bonnie Jeannie o' Bethelnie will be deid e'er I win"
But the horses warnae saddled, nor led on the green
Until bonnie Glenlogie was three miles his lane

And pale and wan was she when Glenlogie cam' in
But 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 I lie under, oh it lies in my heart"
"Turn 'roon, Jeannie Gordon, turn 'roon on your side
And I'll be the bridegroom, and ye'll be the bride"

And noo Jeannie's gotten mairried and her tocher doon told
Bonnie Jean o' Bethelnie was scarce sixteen years auld
Oh Bethelnie, oh Bethelnie, ye shine whaur ye stand
And the heather bells aroon ye shine ower Fyvie's land