The Laird of Leys is on to Edinburgh To shaw a fit o' his follie; He drest himsel in the crimson-brown An' he prov'd a rantin laddie. Ben came a weel-fair'd lass, Says, Laddie, how do they ca' ye? They ca' me this an' the ca' me that, Ye wudna ken fat they ca' me; But whan I'm at hame on bonnie Deeside They ca' me The Rantin Laddie. They sought her up, they sought her down, They sought her in the parlour; She coudna be got but whar she was, In the bed wi' The Rantin Laddie. Tell me, tell me, Baron of Leys, Ye tell me how they ca' ye; Your gentle blood moves in my side An' I dinna ken how they ca' ye. They ca' me this an' they ca' me that, Ye couldna ken how they ca' me; But whan I'm at hame on bonnie Deeside They ca' me The Rantin Laddie. Tell me, tell me, Baron of Leys, Ye tell me how they ca' ye; Your gentle blood moves in my side An' I dinna ken how to ca' ye. Baron of Leys it is my stile, Alexander Burnett they ca' me; Whan I'm at hame on bonnie Deeside My name is The Rantin Laddie. Gin your name be Alexander Burnett, Alas that ever I saw ye; For ye hae a wife and bairns at hame, An' alas for lyin sae near ye! But I'se gar ye be headit or hang't, Or marry me the morn; Or else pay down ten thousand crowns For gi'ein o' me the scorn. For my head, I canna want; I love my lady dearly; But some o' my lands I maun lose in the case, Alas for lyin sae near ye! Word has gane to the Lady of Leys That the laird he had a bairn; The warst word she said to that was, I wish I had it in my arms. For I will sell my jointure-lands -- I am broken an' I'm sorry -- An' I'll sell a', to my silk gowns, An' get hame my rantin laddie. |