O open the door, Lord Gregory!
open and let me in!
The wind blows loud and cauld, Gregory,
The rain drops fra my chin.
'The shoe is frozen to my foot,
The glove unto my hand,
The wet drops fra my yellow hair,
Na langer dow I stand.'
O up then spak his ill mither,
-An ill death may she die!
'Ye're no the lass of Lochroyan,
She's far out-owre the sea.
Awa', awa', ye ill woman,
Ye're no come here for gude;
Ye're but some witch or wil' warlock,
Or mermaid o' the flood.'
'I am neither witch nor wil' warlock,
Nor mermaid o' the sea,
But I am Annie of Lochroyan,
O open the door to me!'
'Gin ye be Annie of Lochroyan,
As I trow thou binna she,
Now tell me of some love-tokens
That pass'd 'tween thee and me.'
'O dinna ye mind, love Gregory,
As we sat at the wine,
We changed the rings frae our fingers?
And I can shew thee thine.
But I'm the lass of Lochroyan,
That's sailing on the sea
To see if I can find my love,
My ain love Gregory.'
'O see na ye yon bonny bower?
It's a' covered owre wi' tin;
When thou hast sail'd it round about,
Lord Gregory is within.'
And when she saw the stately tower,
Shining both clear and bright,
Whilk stood aboon the jawing wave,
Built on a rock of height,
Says, 'Row the boat, my mariners,
And bring me to the land,
For yonder I see my love's castle,
Close by the salt sea strand.'
She sail'd it round, and sail'd it round,
And loud and loud cried she,
'Now break, now break your fairy charms, And set my true-love free.'
She's ta'en her young son in her arms,
And to the door she's gane,
And long she knock'd, and sair she ca'd.
But answer got she nane.
O open, open, Gregory!
O open! if ye be within;
For here's the lass of Lochroyan,
Come far fra kith and kin.
"O open the door, Lord Gregory!
O open and let me in!
The wind blows loud and cauld, Gregory,
The rain drops fra my chin.
'The shoe is frozen to my foot,
The glove unto my hand,
The wet drops fra my yellow hair,
Na langer dow I stand.'
O up then spak his ill mither,
-An ill death may she die!
'Ye're no the lass of Lochroyan,
She's far out-owre the sea.
“Awa', awa', ye ill woman,
Ye're no come here for gude;
Ye're but some witch or wil' warlock,
Or mermaid o' the flood.'
'I am neither witch nor wil' warlock,
Nor mermaid o' the sea,
But I am Annie of Lochroyan,
O open the door to me!'
'Gin ye be Annie of Lochroyan,
As I trow thou binna she,
Now tell me of some love-tokens
That pass'd 'tween thee and me.'
'O dinna ye mind, love Gregory,
As we sat at the wine,
We changed the rings frae our fingers?
And I can shew thee thine.
'But I'm the lass of Lochroyan,
That's sailing on the sea
To see if I can find my love,
My ain love Gregory.'
'O see na ye yon bonny bower?
It's a' covered owre wi' tin;
When thou hast sail'd it round about,
Lord Gregory is within.'
And when she saw the stately tower,
Shining both clear and bright,
Whilk stood aboon the jawing wave,
Built on a rock of height,
Says, 'Row the boat, my mariners,
And bring me to the land,
For yonder I see my love's castle,
Close by the salt sea strand.'
She sail'd it round, and sail'd it round,
And loud and loud cried she,
'Now break, now break your fairy charms, And set my true-love free.'
She's ta'en her young son in her arms,
And to the door she's gane,
And long she knock'd, and sair she ca'd.
But answer got she nane.
O open, open, Gregory!
O open! if ye be within;
For here's the lass of Lochroyan,
Come far fra kith and kin.
'O open the door, Lord Gregory!
O open and let me in!
The wind blows loud and cauld, Gregory,
The rain drops fra my chin.
'The shoe is frozen to my foot,
The glove unto my hand,
The wet drops fra my yellow hair,
Na langer dow I stand.'
O up then spak his ill mither,
-An ill death may she die!
'Ye're no the lass of Lochroyan,
She's far out-owre the sea.
Awa', awa', ye ill woman,
Ye're no come here for gude;
Ye're but some witch or wil' warlock,
Or mermaid o' the flood.'
'I am neither witch nor wil' warlock,
Nor mermaid o' the sea,
But I am Annie of Lochroyan,
O open the door to me!'
'Gin ye be Annie of Lochroyan,
As I trow thou binna she,
Now tell me of some love-tokens
That pass'd 'tween thee and me.'
‘O dinna ye mind, love Gregory,
As we sat at the wine,
We changed the rings frae our fingers?
And I can shew thee thine.
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