Subject: Lyr Add: THE MUIR OF CULLODEN (from John Ord)
From:
Malcolm Douglas
Date: 19 Jan 01 - 03:11 PM
Well, here is a "Muir of Culloden":
THE MUIR OF CULLODEN
I'll sing of my country, its deep glens and fountains,
Its woods and its bowers, and its steep-rising mountains;
I'll sing of its battles renownèd in story,
That crownèd our sires with immortal glory;
I'll sing of its battles renownèd in story,
That crownèd our sires with immortal glory.
On the sixteenth of April, I'll ever remember,
The night it was dark, dark as December;
The moon showed its beams, something awful foreboding,
And lulled were the streams as they rolled by Culloden:
The moon showed its beams, something awful foreboding,
And lulled were the streams as they rolled by Culloden.
As we lay under arms our chiefs were debating;
Some thought they would fight, and some for retreating;
But Lochiel, and Lord Drummond, and young Lewis Gordon
Drew their swords and they swore they would die on Culloden:
But Lochiel, and Lord Drummond, and young Lewis Gordon
Drew their swords and they swore they would die on Culloden.
The war-pipes did play, and the fierce charge was sounding,
The high Highland hills with their echoes rebounding;
Had our whole clans but charged, the same as at Flodden,
The day would have been ours on the Muir of Culloden:
Had our whole clans but charged, the same as at Flodden,
The day would have been ours on the Muir of Culloden.
The Gordons, MacGregors, and the MacDonalds,
The Campbells, MacPhersons, and the Clan Ronalds
Rushed fierce to the charge, while down thousands were trodden,
Determined to conquer or die at Culloden:
Rushed fierce to the charge, while down thousands were trodden,
Determined to conquer or die at Culloden.
Nae mair the pipes play Prince Charlie's a-coming;
Nae mair the hurrah, and the Southrons are running,
And now for our Prince every Scot's heart was throbbin',
And cauld lies our lads on the Muir of Culloden;
And now for our Prince every Scot's heart was sobbin',
Crying, "Cauld lies the lads on the Muir of Culloden."
This text from John Ord's Bothy Songs and Ballads (1930, reprinted by John Donald, Edinburgh 1995). Ord gives no indication as to where he got it, or to what tune it was sung.
Malcolm
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