The Book of Scottish Song/The Lass o' Patie's Mill

The Lass o’ Patie’s Mill

[The "Lass o' Peatie's Mill" is the name of an old air, the original words to which are lost, but the subject of the song is said to have been a daughter of John Anderson, of Peatie's Mill, in the parish of Keithhall, Aberdeenshire. Allan Ramsay wrote the present words to the old tune. Burns relates an incident connected with the composition of Ramsay's song, which does not well tally with the fact that an old tune called "The Lass o' Peatie's Mill" really did exist before Ramsay's day, as it is more likely that Ramsay borrowed his title from that tune than that two different beauties in two different Patie's Mills inspired the strains of two different poets. "In Sinclair's Statistical Account of Scotland," says Burns, "this song is localized (a verb I must use for want of another to express my idea) somewhere in the North of Scotland, and likewise is claimed by Ayrshire.—The following anecdote I had from the present Sir William Cunningham of Robertland, who had it from the last John Earl of Loudon—The then Earl of Loudon, and father to Earl John before mentioned, had Ramsay at Loudon, and one day walking together by the banks of Irvine water, near New-Mills, at a place yet called Peaty's Mill, they were struck with the appearance of a beautiful country girl. His lordship observed that she would be a fine theme for a song.—Allan lagged behind in returning to Loudon Castle, and at dinner produced this identical song."]

The lass o' Patie's Mill,
Sae bonnie, blythe, and gay,
In spite of a' my skill,
She stole my heart away.
When teddin' out the hay,
Bareheaded on the green,
Love mid her locks did play,
And wanton'd in her een.

Her arms, white, round, and smooth;
Breasts in their rising dawn;
To age it would give youth,
To press them with his han'.
Through all my spirits ran
An ecstasy of bliss,
When I such sweetness fand
Wrapt in a balmy kiss.

Without the help of art,
Like flowers that grace the wild,
She did her sweets impart,
Whene'er she spak' or smiled:
Her looks they were so mild,
Free from affected pride,
She me to love beguiled;
I wish'd her for my bride.

Oh! had I a' the wealth
Hopetoun's high mountains fill,
Insured lang life and health,
And pleasure at my will;
I'd promise, and fulfil,
That nane but bonnie she,
The lass o' Patie's Mill,
Should share the same wi' me.

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