Doon Deeside cam Inveray a-whistlin' an' playin' An' he cam by Brackley's yetts ere the day was dawin' "Oh are ye there, Brackley, and are ye within? Oor shairp swords are at yer yetts, an' we'll gaur your bluid spin" "Rise up, Betsy Gordon, an' gie me my gun For though I gang oot, love, sure I'll never come in Come kiss me, my Betsy, nor think I'm tae blame For though I hae ae man, I'm sure they hae ten" When Brackley was mounted and rade on his horse A bonnier baron ne'er rade o'er a course Twa gallanter Gordons did never swords draw But against three and thirty, fa's me, whit is twa? Wi' their dirks and their broadswords, they did him surroun' And they killed bonny Brackley wi' mony's a woun' Frae the heid o' the Dee tae the banks o' the Spey The Gordons shall mourn him and ban Inveray Oh cam ye by Brackley's yetts, an' cam ye by here? An' saw ye his lady a-rivin' her hair? Oh an' I cam by Brackley's yetts an' I cam by here An' I saw his fair lady, she wis makin' guid cheer She was rantin' an' dancin' an' singin' wi' joy An' vowin' that verra nicht she would feast Inveray Well, she's laughed wi' him, danced wi' him, welcomed him in She was kind tae the murderer wha had slayed her guid man Through hedges an' ditches ye canna be sure But through the woods at Glentor ye can slip in an hour An' it's up spak the babe sittin' on his mither's knee Sayin', "Afore I'm a man, it's avenged I'll be"