Gan to the Kye - The Unthanks

Gan to the kye with me, my love

Gan to the kye with me

Over the moor and through the grove

I’ll sing ditties to thee

Cushie, thy pet, is lowing

Around her poor firstling’s shed

Tears in her eyes are flowing

Because little Colly lies dead

Gan to the kye…

All the fine herd of cattle

Thy vigilant sire possessed

After his fall in battle

By rebel chieftains were prest

Gan to the kye…

Kine now is all our property

Left by thy father’s will

Yet if we nurse it watchfully

We may win geer enow still

Gan to the kye…