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Lyr Add: OODLES of Scottish Lyrics

02 Nov 02 - 01:32 PM (#816952)
Subject: Lyr Add 18 MORE SCOTTISH SONGS
From: GUEST

CALEDONIA

I don't know if you can see
The changes that have come over me
In these last few days, I've been afraid
That I might drift away
So I've been telling old stories, singing songs
That make me think about where I came from
And that's the reason why I seem
So far away today

Oh, but let me tell you that I love you
That I think about you all the time
Caledonia you're calling me
And now I'm going home
If I should become a stranger
You know that it would make me more than sad
Caledonia's been everything
I've ever had

Now I have moved and I've kept on moving
Proved the points that I needed proving
Lost the friends that I needed losing
Found others on the way
I have kissed the ladies and left them crying
Stolen dreams, yes there's no denying
I have traveled hard with coattails flying
Somewhere in the wind

Now I'm sitting here before the fire
The empty room, the forest choir
The flames that could not get any higher
They've withered now they've gone
But I'm steady thinking my way is clear
And I know what I will do tomorrow
When the hands are shaken and the kisses flow
Then I will disappear

Copyright 1982 Plant Life Music Ltd.

Return to Intro

DONALD WHERE'S YOUR TROUSERS

I just got in from the Isle of Skye
I'm not very big and I'm awfully shy
The ladies shout as I go by--
Donald where's your trousers.

CHORUS: Let the winds blow high,
Let the winds blow low,
Down the street in my kilt I go --
And all the ladies say hello--
Donald where's your trousers

A lady took me to a ball
And it was slippery in the hall
I was afraid that I would fall
'Cause I didn't have on my trousers

They'd like to wed me everyone
Just let them catch me if they can --
You canna put the brakes on a highland man
Who doesn't like wearing trousers.

To wear the kilt is my delight,
It isn't wrong, I know it's right.
The highlanders would get a fright
If they saw me in trousers.

Well I caught a cold and me nose was raw
I had no handkerchief at all
So I hiked up my kilt and I gave it a blow,
Now you can't do that with trousers.

Return to Intro

THE FLOWERS OF THE FOREST

I've heard them liltin', at the ewe milkin,'
Lasses a-liltin' before dawn of day.
Now there's a moanin', on ilka green loanin'.
The flowers of the forest are a' wede away.

As boughts in the mornin', nae blithe lads are scornin',
Lasses are lonely and dowie and wae.
Nae daffin', nae gabbin', but sighin' and sobbin',
Ilk ane lifts her leglin, and hies her away.

At e'en in the gloamin', nae swankies are roamin',
'Mang stacks wi' the lasses at bogle to play.
But ilk maid sits drearie, lamentin' her dearie,
The flowers of the forest are a' wede away.

In har'st at the shearin' nae youths now are jeerin'
Bandsters are runkled, and lyart, or grey.
At fair or at preachin', nae wooin', nae fleecin',
The flowers of the forest are a' wede away.

Dool for the order sent our lads to the Border,
The English for ance by guile wan the day.
The flowers of the forest, that fought aye the foremost,
The prime of our land lie cauld in the clay.

We'll hae nae mair liltin', at the ewe milkin',
Women and bairns are dowie and wae.
Sighin' and moanin' on ilka green loanin',
The flowers of the forest are all wede away.

Return to Intro

THESE ARE MY MOUNTAINS

For fame and for fortune I wandered the earth
And now I've come back to the land of my birth
I've brought back my treasures but only to find
They're less than the pleasures I first left behind

For these are my mountains and this is my glen
The braes of my childhood will know me again
No land's ever claimed me tho' far I did roam
For these are my mountains and I'm going home
(Last) and I have come home

The burn by the road sings at my going by
The whaup averhead wings with welcoming cry
The loch where the scart flies at last I can see
It's here that my heart lies it's here I'll be free

Kind faces will meet me and welcome me in
And how they will greet me my ain kith and kin
The night round the ingle old sangs will be sung
At last I'll be hearing my ain mother tongue.

Return to Intro

BONNIE LASS OF FYFIE

There once was a troop of Irish dragoons
Come marching down through Fyfie, O
And the captain feel in love with a very bonnie lass
And the name she was called was pretty Peggy-o

There's many a bonnie lass in the glen of Auchterlass
There's many a bonnie lass in Gairioch-o
There's many a bonnie Jean in the streets of Aberdeen
But the flower of them all lives in Fyvie, O

O come down the stairs, Pretty Peggy, my dear
Come down the stairs, Pretty Peggy-o
Come down the stairs, comb back your yellow hair
Bid a long farewell to your mammy-o

It's braw, aye it's braw, a captain's lady for to be
And it's braw to be a captain's lady-o
It's braw to ride around and to follow the camp
And to ride when your captain he is ready-o

O I'll give you ribbons, love, and I'll give you rings
I'll give you a necklace of amber-o
I'll give you a silken petticoat with flounces to the knee
If you'll convey me doon to your chamber-o

What would your mother think if she heard the guineas clink
And saw the haut-boys marching all before you o
O little would she think gin she heard the guineas clink
If I followed a soldier laddie-o

I never did intend a soldier's lady for to be
A soldier shall never enjoy me-o
I never did intend to gae tae a foreign land
And I will never marry a soldier-o

I'll drink nae more o your claret wine
I'll drink nae more o your glasses-o
Tomorrow is the day when we maun ride away
So farewell tae your Fyvie lasses-o

The colonel he cried, mount, boys, mount, boys, mount
The captain, he cried, tarry-o
O tarry yet a while, just another day or twa
Till I see if the bonnie lass will marry-o

'Twas in the early morning, when we marched awa
And O but the captain he was sorry-o
The drums they did beat a merry brasselgeicht
And the band played the bonnie lass of Fyvie, O

Long ere we came to the glen of Auchterlass
We had our captain to carry-o
And long ere we won into the streets of Aberdeen
We had our captain to bury-o

Green grow the birks on bonnie Ethanside
And low lie the lowlands of Fyvie, O
The captain's name was Ned and he died for a maid
He died for the bonny lass of Fyvie, O

Return to Intro

I BELONG TO GLASGOW

I've been wi' a couple o' cronies,
One or two pals o' my ain;
We went in a hotel, and we did very well,
And then we came out once again;
Then we went into anither,
And that is the reason I'm fu';
We had six deoch-an-doruses, then sang a chorus,
Just listen, I'll sing it to you:

CHORUS: I belong to Glasgow,
Dear old Glasgow town;
But what's the matter wi' Glasgow,
For it's goin' roun' and roun'!
I'm only a common old working chap,
As anyone here can see,
But when I get a couple o' drinks on a Saturday,
Glasgow belongs to me!

There's nothing in keeping your money,
And saving a shilling or two;
If you've nothing to spend, then you've nothing to lend,
Why that's all the better for you;
There no harm in taking a drappie,
It ends all your trouble and strife;
It gives ye the feeling that when you get home,
You don't give a hang for the wife!

I belong to Glasgow, etc.

Return to Intro

YE JACOBITES BY NAME

Ye Jacobites by name, lend an ear, give an ear!
Ye Jacobites by name, lend an ear,
Ye Jacobites by name,
Your fautes I will proclaim,
Your doctrines I maun blame - you shall hear!

What is right, and what is wrang, by the law, by the law?
What is right, and what is wrang, by the law?
What is right, and what is wrang?
A short sword and a lang,
A weak arm and a strang, for to draw!

What makes heroic strife, famed afar, famed afar?
What makes heroic strife famed afar?
What makes heroic strife?
To whet th' assassin's knife,
Or hunt a Parent's life, wi bluidy war!

Then let your schemes alone, in the State, in the State!
Then let your schemes alone, in the State!
Then let your schemes alone,
Adore the rising sun,
And leave a man undone, to his fate!

Return to Intro

KILLIECRANKIE

Whaur hae ye been sae braw, lad?
Whaur hae ye been sae brankie-o?
Whaur hae ye been sae braw, lad?
Come 'ye by Killiecrankie-o?

An' ye had been whaur I hae been
Ye wadna been sae cantie-o
An' ye had seen what I hae seen
On the braes o' Killiecrankie-o

I fought at land, I fought at sea
At hame I fought my auntie-o
But I met the Devil and Dundee
On the braes o' Killiecrankie-o

The bauld pitcur fell in a furr
And Clavers gat a crankie-o
Or I had fed an Athol gled
On the braes o' Killiecrankie-o

Oh fie, MacKay, What gart ye lie
I' the brush ayont the brankie-o?
Ye'd better kiss'd King Willie's loff
Than come tae Killiecrankie-o

It's nae shame; it's nae shame
It's nae shame to shank ye-o
There's sour slaes on Athol braes
And the de'ils at Killiecrankie-o

Return to Intro

MAIRI'S WEDDING

CHORUS: Step me gaily, off we go
Heel for heel and toe for toe,
Arm in arm and off we go
All for Mairi's wedding.

Over hillways up and down
Myrtle green and bracken brown,
Past the sheiling through the town
All for sake of Mairi.

Plenty herring, plenty meal
Plenty peat to fill her creel,
Plenty bonny bairns as weel
That's the toast for Mairi.

Cheeks as bright as rowans are
Brighter far than any star,
Fairest o' them all by far
Is my darlin' Mairi.

Return to Intro

SOUND THE PIBROCH

Sound the pibroch loud and high
From John o' Groats to the Isle of Skye!
Let all the Clans their slogan cry
And rise tae follow Charlie!

CHORUS: Tha tighin fodham, fodham, fodham
Tha tighin fodham, fodham, fodham
Tha tighin fodham, fodham, fodham
To rise and follow Charlie!

And see a small devoted band
By dark Loch Shiel have taen their stand
And proudly vow wi' heart and hand
To fight for Royal Charlie!

Frae every hill and every glen
Are gatherin' fast the loyal men
They grasp their dirks and shout again
"Hurrah! for Royal Charlie!"

On dark Culloden's field of gore
Hark! They shout "Claymore! Claymore!"
They bravely fight what can they more?
They die for Royal Charlie!

No more we'll see such deeds again
Deserted is each Highland glen
And lonely cairns are o'er the men
Who fought and died for Charlie!

The White Rose blossoms forth again
Deep in sheltered Highland glens
And soon we'll hear the cry we ken
Tae rise! And fight for Charlie!

(Note "tha tighin fodham" is pronounced HA CHEEN FOAM and means "it comes upon me" or "I have the wish.")

Return to Intro

ROAMIN IN THE GLOAMIN

I've seen lots of bonnie lassies travellin' far and wide,
But my heart is centred noo on bonnie Kate McBride;
And altho' I'm no a chap that throws a word away,
I'm surprised mysel' at times at a' I've got to say--

CHORUS: Roamin' in the gloamin' on the bonnie banks o' Clyde,
Roamin' in the gloamin' wi' ma lassie by ma side,
When the sun has gone to rest, that's the time that I like best,
O, it's lovely roamin' in the gloamin'!

One nicht in the gloamin' we were trippin' side by side.
I kissed her twice, and asked her once if she would be my bride;
She was shy, and so was I, we were baith the same,
But I got brave and braver on the journey comin' hame.
Roamin', etc.

Last nicht efter strollin' we got hame at half-past nine.
Sittin' at the kitchen fire, I asked her to be mine.
When she promised I got up and danced the Hielan' Fling;
I've just been to the jewellers and I've picked a nice wee ring.
Roamin', etc.

Return to Intro

MY LAST FAREWELL TO STIRLING

No lark in transport mounts the sky
Nor leaves with early plaintive cry.
But I maun bid my last goodbye
My last farewell to Stirling, O.

CHORUS: Tho' far awa', my hairt's wi' you
Our youthful hours on wings they flew;
But l will bid my last adieu.
My last farewell to Stirling, O.

Nae mair I'll meet you in the dark.
Nor gang wi' you to the king's park.
Nor raise the hare oot frae their flap
When I gang far frae Stirling, O.

Nae mair I'll wander through the glen
Nor disturb the roost o' the pheasant hen
Nor chase the rabbits to their den
When I gang far frae Stirling, O.

There's one request before l go,
And that is to my comrades all:
My dog and gun ye'll keep for me
When I gang far frae Stirling, O.

Noo fare ye weel, my Jeannie dear.
For you I'll shed a bitter tear.
But I hope you'll find some other, dear.
When I am far frae Stirling, O.

Then fare ye weel, for I am bound
For twenty years to Van Dieman's Land.
But speak of me and what I've done
When I gang far frae Stirling, O.

Return to Intro

MIST COVERED MOUNTAINS

CHORUS: Oh, roe, soon shall I see them,
Oh, hee-roe, see them, oh see them.
Oh, roe, soon shall I see them,
The mist-covered mountains of home!

There shall I visit the place of my birth.
They'll give me a welcome, the warmest on earth.
So loving and kind, full of music and mirth,
The sweet-sounding language of home.

There shall I gaze on the mountains again.
On the fields, and the hills, and the birds in the glen.
With people of courage beyond human ken!
In the haunts of the deer I will roam.

Hail to the mountains with summits of blue!
To the glens with their meadows of sunshine and dew.
To the women and the men ever constant and true,
Ever ready to welcome one home!

Return to Intro

MACPHERSON'S LAMENT

Fare thee weel, you dungeons dark and strong,
Fareweel, fareweel to thee.
Macpherson's rant will ne'er be lang,
On yonder gallers tree.

CHORUS: Sae wontonly, sae dauntonly,
O rantonly gaed he,
He played a tune an' he danced aroon,
Below the gallers tree.

Well the laird o' Grant, you highlan' Sa'nt
That first laid hands on me,
He plead the cause o' Peter Broon,
He watched Macpherson dee.

By a woman's treacherous hand
That I was condemned to dee,
High on a ledge of her window she stood,
And a blanket she threw over me.

Some come here noo tae see me hang
And some to buy my fiddle,
Before I'll pairt wi' thee,
I'll brak' her through the middle.

Come ye loose the bands from off my hands
Bring tae me noo my sword,
There's nae a man in a' Scotland
That'll brave him at his word.

Little did my mother think
When first she cradled me,
That I would turn a rovin' boy
And die upon the gallers tree.

The reprieve was comin' o'er the brig o' Banff,
To set Macpherson free,
They pu' the clock a quarter fast,
And they hanged him to the tree.

Return to Intro

THE DARK ISLE

As mists of the evening creep over the hill
And the sea round about her is silent and still
Forbidden dark island so dreary and cold
What mysterious tales can your black rocks unfold
While fishermen row past your dark ocean shore
And old wives are spinning and praying once more
No falsehood to dread no malice you hold
You are sworn to your secrets of stories untold

The old men will tell not a bird or a nest
At times not a seabird will stop there to rest
But you lie there in mist and cold watery waves
No harm is yet spoken no evil you show
'Tis sacred you stand to folks long ago
No curses come from you or to you are shown
Just a lonely dark island a mysterious throne

But tho' they've not seen they'll tell what they know
Of kings and of princes who died long ago
Who rest in your coves and still to this day
They are seen in your shadows and through the sea spray
So toast to yon mountains and summits of blue
And here's to the glens and the meadows of dew
It's not of these hills or valleys I dream
But the lonely dark island the home of the kings

Return to Intro

BATTLE O FALKIRK

Up and run awa', Hawley, up and run awa'
The filabegs are comin' doon to gie your lugs a claw.
Young Charlie's face at Dunipace has gi'ed your mou' a thraw, Hawley
Blasting sight for bastard wight, the worst that e'er he saw!

Hielan' Geordie's at your tail, wi' Drummond, Perth and a'
(run awa')

Ere ye saw the bonnets blue down frae the Torwood draw
A wisp in need did ye bestead - perhaps you needed twa!
General Hurst that battle busk that prime o' warriors a', Hawley,
Whip and spur he thrust afar as fast as he could ga'

I hae but just ae word to say and ye maun hear it a',
We came to charge wi' sword and targe and nae to hunt ava',
When we came down aboun the town and saw nae faes at a',
We couldna half believe the truth that ye had left us a'!

Nae man bedeen believed his e'en till your brave back he saw, Hawley,
Bastard brat o' foreign cat had neither pluck nor paw,
We didna ken, but ye were men wha fight for foreign law,
Hey, fill your wame wi' brose at hame, it fits ye best of a'.

The very frown o' Hielan' loon, it gart ye drop the jaw,
Happ'd the face of a' disgrace and sickened Southron maw,
The very gleam o' Hielan' flame it puts you in a thaw,
Gae back and kiss your Daddy's miss, you're nane but cowards a'!

Up and scour awa', Hawley, up and scour awa'!
The Hielan' dirk is at your doup and that's the Hielan' law
Hielan Geordie's at your tail, wi' Drummond, Perth and a'
Had you but stayed wi' ladies maid, an hour and maybe twa,
Your bacon bouk and bastard snout, ye might have saved them a'!

Return to Intro

FIELDS O BANNOCKBURN

'Twas on a bonnie simmer's day,
Me English came in grand array
King Edward's orders to obey,
Upon the Field of Bannockburn.

CHORUS: Sae loudly let the Pibroch wake
Each loyal Clan frae hill and lake,
And boldly fight for Scotia's sake
Upon the Field of Bannockburn.

King Edward raised his standard high,
Bruce shook his banners in reply -
Each army shouts for victory
Upon the Field of Bannockburn.

The English horse wi' deadly aim
Upon the Scottish army came;
But hundreds in our pits were slain
Upon the Field of Bannockburn.

Loud rose the war cry of McNeil,
Who flew like tigers to the field
And made the Sass'nach army feel
There were dauntless hearts at Bannockburn.

McDonald's clan, how firm their pace-
Dark vengeance gleams in ev'ry face,
Lang had they thirsted to embrace
Their Sass'nach friends at Bannockburn.

The Fraser bold his brave clan led,
While wide their thistle banners spread-
They boldly fell and boldly bled
Upon the Field of Bannockburn.

The ne'er behind brave Douglas came,
And also with him Donald Graham,
Their blood-red painted swords did stain
The glorious Field of Bannockburn.

That day King Edward's heart did mourn,
With joy each Scottish heart did burn,
In mem'ry now let us return
Our thanks to Bruce at Bannockburn.

Return to Intro

COULTER'S CANDY

Ally, bally, ally bally bee,
Sittin' on yer mammy's knee
Greetin' for anither bawbee,
Tae buy mair Coulter's candy.

Ally, bally, ally, bally bee,
When you grow up you'll go to sea,
Makin' pennies for your daddy and me,
Tae buy mair Coulter's Candy.

Mammy gie me ma thrifty doon
Here's auld Coulter comin' roon
Wi' a basket on his croon
Selling Coulter's Candy.

Little Annie's greetin' tae
Sae whit can puir wee Mammy dae
But gie them a penny atween them twae
Tae buy mair Coulter's Candy.

Poor wee Jeannie's lookin' affa thin,
A rickle o' banes covered ower wi' skin,
Noo she's gettin' a double chin
Wi' sookin' Coulter's Candy.

HTML line breaks added. --JoeClone, 8-Nov-02.

02 Nov 02 - 01:44 PM (#816958)
Subject: Lyr Add: 36 SCOTTISH SONGS
From: GUEST,Big John

THE SKYE BOAT SONG

CHORUS: Speed bonnie boat like a bird on the wing,
Onward, the sailors cry.
Carry the lad that's born to be king
Over the sea to Skye.

Loud the winds howl, loud the waves roar,
Thunderclaps rend the air,
Baffled, our foes stand by the shore,
Follow they will not dare. CHORUS

Though the waves leap, soft shall ye sleep,
Ocean's a royal bed.
Rock'd in the deep Flora will keep
Watch o'er your weary head. CHORUS

Burned are our homes, exile and death,
Scattered the loyal man.
Yet ere the sword, cool in the sheath,
Charlie will come again. CHORUS

(The Skye Boat Song)
Commemorating his escape from these shores when Flora Macdonald took Bonnie Prince Charlie, disguised as a serving. maid, from Uist to Skye in a small boat. Flora is buried at Kilmuir on Skye. Prince Charlie near Rome where he was born.

THE AULD SCOTCH SANGS

o sing to me the auld Scotch sangs I' the braid Scottish tongue.
The sangs my father loved to hear, The sangs my mither sung,
When she sat beside my cradle, Or croon'd me on her knee.
And I wadna sleep, she sang sae sweet The auld Scotch sangs to me.
And I wadna sleep, she sang sae sweet The auld Scotch sangs to me.

Sing ony o' the auld Scotch sangs, The blithesome or the sad,
They mak' me smile when I am wae, And greet when I am glad.
My heart goes back to auld Scotland, The saut tear dims my e'e,
And the Scotch blood leaps in a' my veins, As ye sing the sangs to me.
And the Scotch blood leaps in a' my veins, As ye sing the sangs to me.

Sing on, sing mair o' thae auld sangs, For ilka ane can tell
O' joy or sorrow i' the past Where mem'ry lo'es to dwell,
Tho' hair grows grey and limbs grow auld, Until the day I dee,
I'll bless the Scottish tongue that sings The auld Scotch sangs to me.
I'll bless the Scottish tongue that sings The auld Scotch sangs to me.

(The Auld Scotch Sangs)
Many old Scottish songs originated with the earliest Highland Games when friends gathered together with the Clan Chief to sing, dance and compete.

AMAZING GRACE

Amazing grace how sweet the sound that saved a wretch like me.
I once was lost but now I'm found was blind but now I see.

'Twas grace that taught my heart to fear and grace my fear relieved.
How precious did that grace appear The hour I first believed.

Through many dangers, toils and snares We have already come.
'Twas grace that brought us safe thus far and grace will lead us home.

When we've been there ten thousand years Bright shining as the sun.
We've no less days to sing God's praise than when we first begun.

(Amazing Grace)
The music of this song is an old pipe tune to which modern Words have given new impetus. !t is easy to imagine the joyful return of battle. worn warriors to the skirl of the pipes.

ANNIE LAURIE

Maxwellton braes are bonnie, Where early fa's the dew,
And 'twas there that Annie Laurie Gave me her promise true.
Gave me her promise true, Which ne'er forgot will be,
And for bonnie Annie Laurie, I lay me doon and dee.

Her brow is like the snowdrift, Her throat is like a swan,
Her face it is the fairest That e'er the sun shone on.
That e'er the sun shone on, And dark blue is her ee,
And for bonnie Annie Laurie I lay me doon and dee.

Like dew on th' gowan lying, Is the fa' o' her fairy feet,
And like winds in summer sighing Her voice is low and sweet.
Her voice is low and sweet, And she's a' the world to me,
And for bonnie Annie Laurie, I lay me doon and dee.

(Annie Laurie)
Written by Lady John Scott (1810-1900) who altered the second verse and composed the third. A favourite with Scotsmen during the Crimean War.

AE FOND KISS

Ae fond kiss and then we sever
Ae fareweel, alas for ever
Deep in heart-wrung tears i'll pledge thee,
Warring sighs and groans I'll wage thee.
Had we never lov'd sae kindly,
Had we never lov'd sae blindly,
Never met or never parted,
We had ne'er been broken-hearted.

I'll ne'er blame my partial fancy,
Nae thing could resist my Nancy;
But to see her was to love her,
Love but her, and love for ever;
Had we never lov'd sae kindly,
Had we never lov'd sae blindly.
Never met or never parted
We had ne'er been broken-hearted.

Fare thee weel, thou first and fairest,
Fare thee weel, thou best and dearest,
Thine be ilka joy and treasure,
Peace, enjoyment, love and pleasure.
Had we never lov'd sae kindly
Had we never lov'd sae blindly,
Never met or never parted
We had ne'er been broken-hearted.

(Ae Fond Kiss)
Robert Burns wrote this song of farewell to his 'Clarinda 'on her departure abroad from Edinburgh. The last four lines were declared by Sir Walter Scott and Lord Byron to contain the essence of a thousand love tales.

THE AULD HOOSE

Oh! the auld hoose, the auld hoose, What tho' the rooms were wee,
Oh, kind hearts were dwelling there, And bairnies fu' o' glee.
And wild rose and the jassamine Still hang upon the wa
Hoo mony cherished memories Do they sweet flow 'rs reca'.

Oh, the auld Laird, the auld Laird Sae canty, kind and crouse.
Hoo mony did he welcome there, His ain wee dear auld hoose.
And the leddy, too, sae genty, There shelter'd Scoltand's heir,
An' clipt a lock wi' her ain han' Frae his long yellow hair

The mavis still doth sweetly sing, The bluebells sweetly blaw.
The bonnie Earn's clear, winding still But the auld hoose is awa'.
The auld hoose, the auld hoose Deserted tho' ye be,
There ne'er can be a new hoose, Will seem sae fair to me.

Still flourishing the auld pear tree The bairnies liked to see.
And oh hoo often did they speir When ripe they a' wad be?
The voices sweet, the wee bit feet Aye runnin' here and there.
The merry shouts oh, whiles we greet To think we'll hear nae mair.

(The Auld Hoose)
What home was like in the 1700s.

BONNIE BANKS O' LOCH LOMON'

By yon bonnie banks and by yon bonnie braes,
Where the sun shines bright on Loch Lomon'.
Where me and my true love were ever wont to gae
On the bonnie, bonnie banks o' Loch Lomon'.

Chorus:

O ye'll tak' the high road and I'll tak' the low road,
An' I'll be in Scotland afore ye;
But me and my true love will never meet again
On the bonnie, bonnie banks o' Loch Lomon'.

'Twas there that we parted in yon shady glen,
On the steep, steep side o' Ben Lomon',
Where in purple hue the Hieland hills we view,
An' the moon comin' out in the gloamin'

Chorus: O ye'll tak' the high road etc.

The wee birdies sing and the wild flow'rs spring,
And in sunshine the waters are sleepin';
But the broken heart it kens nae second spring,
Tho' the waefu' may cease frae their greetin'.

Chorns: O ye'll tak' the high road etc.

(Bonnie Banks o' Loch Lomon')
The song refers to two of Bonnie Prince Charlie 's men left behind in Carlisle after his retreat from England. One was to be executed, the other released. The Spirit of the dead soldier travelling by the 'low road' would reach Scotland before his comrade, struggling over mlles of high rugged country.

THE BONNIE LASS O 'BALLOCHMYLE

Fair is the morn in flow'ry May, A
nd sweet is night in autumn mild,
When roving thro' the garden gay,
Or wand'ring in the lonely wild;
But woman nature's darling child
There all her charms she does compile;
E'en there her other works are foil'd
E'en there her other works are foil'd
By the bonnie lass o' Ballochmyle.

Chorus
The bonnie lass o' Ballochmyle
The bonnie lass!
--The bonnie, bonnie lass!
The bonnie lasso' Ballochmyle.

O had she been a country maid,
And I the happy country swain,
Tho' shelter'd in the lowest shed
That ever rose on Scotland's plain!
Thro' weary winter's wind and rain,
Withjoy, with rapture, I would toil;
And nightly to my bosom strain,
And nightly to my bosom strain,
The bonnie lass o' Ballochmyle.

Chorus;
The bonnie lass o' Ballochmyle The bonnie lass!
The bonnie, bonnie lass! The bonnie lass o' Ballochmyle.

(Bonnie Lass o' Ballochmyle)
Ballochmyle stands on the banks of the River Ayr and the song was written by Robert Burns to a lady he admired in 1786. His feelings were not reciprocated but are immortalised in these words.

BONNIE STRATHYRE

There's meadows in Lanark and mountains in Skye,
And pastures in Hielands and Lowlands forbye;
But there's nae greater luck that the heart could desire
Than to herd the fine cattle in bonnie Strathyre.

O' it's up in the morn and awa' to the hill,
When the lang simmer days are sae warm and sae still,
Till the peak o' Ben Voirlich is girdled wi' fire,
And the evenin' fa's gently on bonnie Strathyre.

Then there's mirth in the sheiling and love in my breast,
When the sun is gane doun and the kye are at rest;
For there's mony a prince wad be proud to aspire
To my winsome wee Maggie, the pride o' Strathyre.

Her lips are like rowans in ripe simmer seen,
And mild as the starlicht the glint o' her e'en;
Far sweeter her breath than the scent o' the briar,
And her voice is sweet music in bonnie Strathyre.

Set Flora by Colin, and Maggie by me,
And we'll dance to the pipes swellin' loudly and free,
Till the moon in the heavens climbing higher and higher
Bids us sleep on fresh brackens in bonnie Strathyre.

Though some in the touns o' the Lowlands seek fame,
And some will gang sodgerin' far from their hame;
Yet I'll aye herd my cattle, and bigg my ain byre,
And love my ain Maggie in bonnie Strathyre.

(Bonnie Strathyre)
Strathyre is Set between Callander and Lochearnhead in Perth shire. The valley is overshadowed by Ben Vorlich (3,224 ft)

BONNIE WEE THING

Bonnie wee thing, cannie wee thing, Lovely wee thing wer't thou mine,
I would wear thee in my bosom, Lest my jewel I should tine.

Wistfully, I look and languish, In that bonnie face of thine.
And my heart it stounds wi' anguish Lest my wee thing be na mine.

Bonnie wee thing, cannie wee thing, Lovely wee thing wer't thou mine.
I would wear thee in my bosom Lest my jewel I should tine.

Wit and grace and love and beauty In a constellation shine,
To adore thee is my duty Goddess o' this soul o' mine.

Wistfully I look and languish In that bonnie face of thine.
And my heart it stounds wi' anguish Lest my wee thing be na mine.

Bonnie wee thing, cannie wee thing, Lovely wee thing, wer't thou mine.
I would wear thee in my bosom Lest my jewel I should tine.

(Bonnie Wee Thing)
Written by Robert Burns in praise of 'my little idol, the charming lovely Davies Disappointed in love, she died of a broken heart.

GRANNY'S HIELAN ' HAME

Chorus:

Where the heather bells are blooming just outside Granny's door,
Where as laddies there we played in the days of long ago.
Neath the shadow of Ben Bhragie and Golspie's loudly stane,
How I wished that I could see my Granny's Hielan' hame.

Away in the Hielands There stands a wee hoose,
And it stands on the breast of the brae.
Where we played as laddies Sae long long ago,
And it seems it was just yesterday.

Chorus: Where the heather bells etc.

I can still see old Granny, A smile on her face,
As sweet as the heather dew,
When she kissed me good-bye Wi' a tear in her eye,
And said, 'Laddie may God bless you'.

Chorus: Where the heather bells etc.

(Granny's Hieian' Hame)
The thatched cottage was the hub of the Scottish crofter's life. Still to be seen scattered about. but little , more than a museum piece today.

MARY OF ARGYLL

I have heard the mavis singing, His love song to the morn,
I have seen the dew drop clinging, To the rose just newly born.
But a sweeter song has cheer'd me, At the ev'ning's gentle close,
And I've seen an eye still brighter, Than the dew drop on the rose.
'Twas thy voice, my gentle Mary, And thine artless winning smile,
That made this world an Eden, Bonnie Mary of Argyll.

Tho' thy voice may lose its sweetness, And thine eye its brightness too,
Tho' thy step may lack its fleetness, And thy hair its sunny hue.
Still to me wilt thou be dearer, Than all the world shall own,
I have loved thee for thy beauty, But not for that alone.
I have watched thy heart, dear Mary, And its goodness was the wile,
That has made thee mine for ever, Bonnie Mary of Argyll.

(Mary of Argyil)
Written by two Englishmen, this song is as Scottish as any. The 'Mary' referred to is 'Highland Mary', beloved of Robert Burns. She died whilst still young.

LOCHNAGAR

Away, ye gay landscapes, ye gardens of roses,
In you let the minions of luxury rove,
Restore me the rocks where the snow-flake reposes,
Though still they are sacred to freedom and love.
Yet Caledonia, belov'd are thy mountains,
Round their white summits the elements war
Though cataracts foam 'stead of smooth-flowing fountains,
I sigh for the valley of dark Lochnagar.

Ah! there my young footsteps in infancy wander'd,
My cap was the bonnet, my cloak was my plaid.
On chieftains long perish'd my memory ponder'd
As daily I strode thro' the pine cover'd glade.
I sought not my home till the day's dying glory
Gave place to the rays of the bright Polar star.
For fancy was cheer'd by traditional story,
Disclos'd by the natives of dark Lochnagar!

Years have roll'd on, Lochnagar, since I left you!
Years must elapse ere I tread you again.
Though nature of verdure and flow'rs has bereft you,
Yet still are you dearer than Albion's plain.
England, thy beauties are tame and domestic
To one who has roamed over mountains afar
Oh! for the crags that are wild and majestic,
The steep frowning glories of dark Lochnagar.

(Lochnagar)
The song originated in a poem by Lord Byron in 1807. Part of Byron 's early life was spent near Loch na Garr, a Cairngorm rnountain of 3,777ft.

MY AIN FOLK

Far frae my hame I wander, but still my thoughts return
To my ain folk ower yonder, in the sheiling by the burn.
I see the cosy ingle, and the mist abune the brae:
And joy and sadness mingle, as I list some auld-warld lay.

And it's oh! but I'm longing for my ain folk,
Tho' they be but lowly, puir and plain folk'
I am far beyond the sea, but my heart will ever be
At home in dear auld Scotland, wi' my ain folk.

O' their absent ane they're telling The auld folk by the fire:
And I mark the swift tears welling As the ruddy flame leaps high'r.
How the mither wad caress me were I but by her side:
Now she prays that Heav'n will bless me, Tho' the stormy seas divide.

And it's oh! but I'm longing for my ain folk,
Tho' they be but lowly, puir and plain folk:
I am far beyond the sea, but my heart will ever be
At home in dear auld Scotland, wi' my ain folk.

(My Ain Folk)
Few emigrants there were in days gone by who did not yearn to be with loved ones left behind in Scotland, without hope of ever seeing them again.

MY LOVE IS LIKE A RED RED ROSE

O my love is like a red red rose, That's newly sprung in June.
O my love is like a melodie That's sweetly play'd in tune.
As fair art thou, my bonnie lass, So deep in love am I
And I will love thee still, my dear, Till a' the seas gang dry.

Till a' the seas gang dry, my dear, Till a' the seas gang dry,
And I will love thee still my dear, Till a' the seas run dry.

Till a' the seas gang dry, my dear, And the rocks melt wi' the sun,
And I will love thee still, my dear, While the sands o' life shall run.
And fare thee weel, my only love, And fare thee weel awhile!
And I will come again, my love Tho' 'twere ten thousand mile.

Tho' 'twere ten thousand mile, my love, Tho' 'twere ten thousand mile.
And I will come again, my love, Tho' 'twere ten thousand mile.

(My Love is Like a Red Red Rose)
The genius of Burns Is here for all who listen to the words of this song. it is made up of three old ballads which he adapted and to whIch he set the words

THE ROAD TO THE ISLES

A far croonin' is pullin' me away As take I wi' my cromak to the road. The far Coolins are puttin' love on me As step I wi' the sunlight for my load.

Chorus:
Sure, by Tummel and Loch Rannoch and Lochaber I will go.
By heather tracks wi' heaven in their wiles;
If it's thinkin' in your inner heart braggart's in my step,
You've never smelt the tangle o' the Isles.
Oh, the far Coolins are puttin' love on me.
As step I wi' my cromak to the lsles.

It's by Sheil water and track is to the west.
By Aillort and by Morar to the sea,
The cool cresses I am thinkin' o' for pluck,
And bracken for a wink on Mother knee.

Chorus: Sure, by Tummel etc.

It's the blue Islands are pullin' me away,
Their laughter puts the leap upon the lame,
The blue Islands from the Skerries to the Lews,
Wi' heather honey taste upon each name.

Chorus.- Sure, by Tummel etc.

(The Road to the Isles)
This marching song is a favourite wherever it is sung but especially on the road through the West HIghlands on the way to the Western isles.

THE ROAD AND THE MILES TO DUNDEE

Cauld winter was howlin' o'er moor and o'er mountain
And wild was the surge of the dark rolling sea,
When I met about daybreak a bonnie young lassie,
Wha asked me the road and the miles to Dundee.

Says 1, "My young lassie, I canna' weel tell ye
The road and the distance I canna' weel gie.
But if you'll permit me tae gang a wee bittie,
I'll show ye the road and the miles to Dundee".

At once she consented and gave me her arm,
Ne'er a word did 1 speir wha the lassie micht be,
She appeared like an angel in feature and form,
As she walked by my side on the road to Dundee.

At length wi' the Howe o' Strathmartine behind us,
The spires o' the toon in full view we could see,
She said "Gentle Sir, I can never forget ye
For showing me far on the road to Dundee".

I took the gowd pin from the scarf on my bosom -
And said "Keep ye this in remembrance o' me
Then bravely I kissed the sweet lips o' the lassie,
E'er I parted wi' her on the road to Dundee.

So here's to the lassie, I ne'er can forget her,
And lika young laddie that's list'rlihg to me,
O never be sweer to convoy a young lassie
Though it's only to show her the road to Dundee.

(The Road and the Miles to Dundee)
Love at first sight, fleeting but enduring, and eternalised in the words of the song.

SCOTLAND THE BRAVE

Hark when the night is falling Hear! hear the pipes are calling,
Loudly and proudly calling, Down thro' the glen.
There where the hills are sleeping, Now feel the blood a-leaping,
High as the spirits of the old Highland men.

Towering in gallant fame, Scotland my mountain hame,
High may your proud standards gloriously wave,
Land of my high endeavour, Land of the shining river,
Land of my heart for ever, Scotland the brave.

High in the misty Highlands, Out by the purple islands,
Brave are the hearts that beat Beneath Scottish skies.
Wild are the winds to meet you, Staunch are the friends that greet you,
Kind as the love that shines from fair maiden's eyes.

Towering in gallant fame etc.

Far off in sunlit places, Sad are the Scottish faces,
Yearning to feel the Kiss Of sweet Scottish rain.
Where tropic skies are beaming, Love sets the heart a-dreaming,
Longing and dreaming for the homeland again.

Towering in gallant fame etc.

(Scotland the Brave)
An ancient pipe tune and stirring words from the heart of Scotland.

SCOTS WHA HAE

Scots, wha hae wi' Wallace bled, Scots wham Bruce has often led,
Welcome to your gory bed, Or to Victorie!
Now's the day, and now's the hour; See the front o' battle lour,
See approach proud Edward's pow'r Chains and slaverie!

Wha will be a traitor knave? Wha can fill a coward's grave?
Wha sae base as be a slave? Let him turn and flee!
Wha for Scotland's King and law Freedom's sword will strongly draw?
Freeman stand, or freeman fa'? Let him follow me!

By oppression's woes and pains! By your sons in servile chains! -
We will drain our dearest veins, -But they shall be free! -
Lay the proud usurper low! Tyrants fall in ev'ry foe!
Liberty's in ev'ry blow! Let us do or die!

(Scots Wha Hae)
The inspired words were written by Robert Burns. The song refers to the confrontation at Bannockburn in 1314 between Robert the Bruce and Edward Il of England when, under Bruce's leadership, Scotland regained her freedom.

UIST TRAMPING SONG

Come along, come along, Let us foot it out together,
Come along, come along, Be it fair or stonny weather,
With the hills of home before us And the purple of the heather,
Let us sing in happy chorus, Come along, come along.

O gaily sings the lark, And the sky's all awake
With the promise of the day, For the road we gladly take;
So it's heel and toe and forward, Bidding farewell to the town,
For the welcome that awaits us Ere the sun goes down.

Chorus: Come along, come along, etc.

It's the call of sea and shore, It's the tang of bog and peat,
And the scent of brier and myrtle That puts magic in our feet;
So it's on we go rejoicing, Over bracken, over stile,
And it's soon we will be tramping Out the last long mile.

Chorus: Come along, come along, etc.

(Uist Tramping Song)
Uist is part of the Outer Hebrides known as The Long island. With one hundred and ninety freshwater lochs in South Uist, it is a waIking and fishing paradise.

WESTERING HOME
Chorus..
And it's Westering home, and a song in the air,
Light in the eye, and it's goodbye to care.
Laughter o' love, and a welcoming there,
Isle of my heart, my own one.

Tell me o' lands o' the Orient gay,
Speak o' the riches and joys o' Cathay;
Eh, but it's grand to be wakin' ilk day
To find yourself nearer to Isla.

Chorus: And it's Westering home etc.

Where are the folk like the folk o' the west?
Canty, and couthy, and kindly, the best.
There I would hie me and there I would rest
At hame wi' my ain folk in Isla.

Chorus: And it's Westering home etc. -

(Westering Home)
Here we have an indication of the pull of the old Country on these who have left, and the joy of returning.

THE END OF THE ROAD

Ev'ry road thro' life is a long, long road, Fill'd with joys and sorrows too,
As you journey on how your heart will yearn For the things most dear to you.
With wealth and love 'tis so, But onward we must go.

Chorus:
Keep right on to the end of the road,
Keep right on to the end,
Tho' the way be long, let your heart be strong,
Keep right on round the bend.
Tho' you're tired and weary still journey on,
Till you come to your happy abode,
Where all the love you've been dreaming of
Will be there at the end of the road.

With a big stout heart to a long steep hill,
We may get there with a smile,
With a good kind thought and an end in view,
We may cut short many a mile.
So let courage ev'ry day
Be your guiding star alway.

Chorus: Keep right on etc.

(The End of the Road)
This inspiring song is probably the most popular of all --the songs ,written and sung by Sir Harry Lauder both at home and in the countries he toured abroad.

YE BANKS AND BRAES

Ye banks and braes o' bonnie Doon, How can ye bloom sae fresh and fair?
How can ye chant ye little birds, And I sae weary, fu' o' care?
Ye'll break my heart, ye warbling birds, That wanton through the flow'ry thorn,
Ye mind me o' departed joys, Departed never to return.

Oft hae I rov'd by bonnie Doon, To see the rose and woodbine twine; -
And ilka bird sang o' its love, And fondly sae did I o' mine.
Wi' lightsome heart I pu'd a rose, And my fause lover stole my rose,
Fu' sweet upon its thorny tree; But ah! he left the thorn wi' me.

(Ye Banks and Braes)
Written by Robert Burns to commemorate the unrequited love of a young Ayrshlre lass for a local laird. The River Doune runs near where Burns was born in Alloway and Is featured in his famous tale of Tam o' Shanter. Burns was often to be seen walking by its banks, deep in thought.

THE WILD MOUNTAIN THYME

O the summer time has come
And the trees are sweetly blooming
And wild mountain thyme
Grows around the purple heather
Will you go, lassie, go?

And we'll all go together
To pull wild mountain thyme
All around the purple heather
Will you go, lassie, go?

I will build my love a tower
By yon clear crystal fountain
And on it I will pile
All the flowers of the mountain
Will you go, lassie, go?

I will range through the wilds
And the deep land so dreary
and return with the spoils
to the bower o' my dearie
Will ye go lassie go ?

If my true love she'll not come
then I'll surely find another
To pull wild mountain thyme
All around the purple heather

Will you go, lassie, go?

WILL YE NO' COME BACK AGAIN?

Bonnie Chairlie's noo awa', Safely ower the friendly main.
Mony a he'rt will break in twa, Should he ne 'er come back again.

Will ye no' come back again? Will ye no'come back again?
Better lo 'ed ye canna be, Will ye no'come back again?

Ye trusted in your Hielan' men, They trusted you dear Chairlie.
They kent your hidin' in the glen, Death or exile bravin'.

We watched thee in the gloamin' hour, We watched thee in the mornin' grey.
Tho' thirty thousand pounds they gie, o there is nane that wad betray.

Sweet the laverock' s note and lang, Liltin' wildly up the glen.
But aye tae me he sings ae sang, Will ye no' come back again?

BALLAD OF GLENCOE

Chorus
Oh, cruel was the snow that sweeps Glencoe
And covers the grave o' Donald
Oh, cruel was the foe that raped Glencoe
And murdered the house of MacDonald

They came in a blizzard, we offered them heat
A roof for their heads, dry shoes for their feet
We wined them and dined them, they ate of our meat
And they slept in the house of MacDonald

They came from Fort William with murder in mind
The Campbell had orders King William had signed
"Put all to the sword"- these words underlined
"And leave none alive called MacDonald"

They came in the night when the men were asleep
This band of Argyles, through snow soft and deep
Like murdering foxes amongst helpless sheep
They slaughtered the house of MacDonald

Some died in their beds at the hand of the foe
Some fled in the night and were lost in the snow
Some lived to accuse him who struck the first blow
But gone was the house of MacDonald

FLOWER 'O SCOTLAND

Oh Flower of Scotland,
When will we see your like again
That fought and died for
Your wee bit hill and glen

And stood against him,
Proud Edward's army
And sent him homeward
To think again

The hills are bare now,
And autumn leaves lie thick and still
O'er land that is lost now,
Which those so dearly held

That stood against him,
Proud Edward's army
And sent him homeward
To think again

Those days are past now
And in the past they must remain
But we can still rise now
And be the nation again

That stood against him
Proud Edward's army
And sent him homeward
To think again.

AULD LANG SYNE

Should auld acquaintance be forgot, And never brought to mind?
Should auld acquaintance be forgot And auld lang syne?

Chorus: For auld lang syne, my dear, For auld lang syne,
We'll tak a cup o' kindness yet For auld lang syne.

And surely, ye'll be your pint stowp! And surely I'll be mine!
And we'll tak a cup o' kindness yet, For auld lang syne.

Chorus: For auld lang syne, etc.

We twa hae mn about the braes And pou'd the gowans fine;
But we've wander'd mony a weary foot Sin' auld lang syne.

Chorus: For auld lang syne, etc.

-We two hae paidled i' the burn, Frae morning sun till dine;
But seas between us braid hae roar'd Sin' auld lang syne.

Chorus: For auld lang syne, etc.

And here's a hand, my trusty fiere, And gie's a hand o' thine;
And we'll tak' a right gude-willy waught, For auld lang syne.

Chorus: For auld lang syne, etc.

(Auld Lang Syne)
Described by Burns as 'a song of olden times, He wrote only two of the verses. The others are orIginal, passed down from singing parent to llstening child. Music was vital to Burns in capturing old songs and he taught himself to play the fiddle to enable him to pick out and record the tunes, which he did by noting down his fingering on paper. Many old folk-songs would have been lost to us. The handclasp in the last verse is the emblem of brotherhood amongst men. What other song commands such universal homage worldwide? What gathering would be considered properly wound up without the rendering of Auld Lang Syne as a finale? And who, with Scottish blood in their veins, would welcome in a New Year without it?

WEE DEOCH 'N DORIS

There's a good old Scottish custom that has stood the test o'time,
It's a custom that's been carried out in every land and clime.
When brother Scots are gathered, it's aye the usaul thing,
just before we say good night, we fill our cups and sing...

Just a wee deoch 'n doris, just a wee drop, that's all.
Just a wee deoch 'n doris afore ye gang awa.
There's a wee wife waitin' in a wee but an 'ten.
If you can say, "It's a brar bricht moonlicht nicht",
Then yer a'richt, ye ken.

Now I like a man that is a man; a man that's straight and fair.
The kind of man that will and can, in all things do his share.
Och, I like a man a jolly man, the kind of man, you know,
The chap that slaps your back and says, "Jock, just before ye go..."

Just a wee deoch 'n doris, just a wee drop, that's all.
Just a wee deoch 'n doris afore ye gang awa.
There's a wee wife waitin' in a wee but an 'ten.
If you can say, "It's a fine bright, moonlight night,"
Then you're all right, you know

Wee Deoch 'n Doris is Dedicated here to the memory of Douglas L. Wilson

SCOTTISH SOLDIER

There was a soldier, a Scottish soldier
who wandered far away and soldiered far away

there was none bolder, with good broad shoulders,
he fought in many a fray and fought and won

He's seen the glory, he's told the story
of battles glorious and deeds victorious

But now he's sighing his heart is crying
to leave these green hills of Tyroll

chorus

Because these green hills are not highland hills
or the Islands hills their not my lands hills,
as fair as these green foreign hills may be
they are not the hills of home..

And now this soldier, this Scottish soldier,
who wandered far away and soldiered far away

sees leaves are falling, and death is calling
and he will fade away, on that dark land

He called his piper, his trusty piper
and bade him sound away, a pibroch sad to play

upon a hillside but Scottish hillside
not on these green hills of Tyrol

chorus
Because these green....... etc

And now this soldier this Scottish soldier
who wanders far no more, and soldiers far no more

now on a hillside, a Scottish hillside
you'll see a piper play this soldier home

he's seen the glory, he's told the story
of battles glorious and deeds victorious

but he will cease now, he is at peace now
far from these green hills of Tyroll

chorus
Because these green....... etc

repeat chorus

RED RED ROSE

O my luve's like a red, red rose
That's newly sprung in June;
O my luve's like the melodie
That's sweetly play'd in tune

As fair art thou , my bonnie lass,
So deep in luve am I;
And I will luve thee still, my dear,
Till a' the seas gang dry.

Till a' the seas gang dry, my dear,
And the rocks melt wi' the sun;
O I will luve thee still my dear,
While the sands o' life shall run.

And fare-thee-weel, my only luve!
And fare-thee-weel awhile!
And I will come again my luve,
Tho' 'twere ten thousand mile!

O my luve's like a red, red rose
That's newly sprung in June;
O my luve's like the melodie
That's sweetly play'd in tune

This song was originally written by a Lieutenant Hinches as a farewell to
his sweetheart and was reshaped and improved by Burns at a later date.

THE BANKS O' DOON

Ye banks and braes o' bonnie Doon,
How can ye bloom sae fresh and fair!
How can ye chant, ye little birds,
And I sae weary, fu' o' care!

Thou'll break my heart , thou warbling bird,
That wantons thro' the flowering thorn
Thou mids me o' departed joys,
Departed never to return

Oft hae I rov'd me bonnie Doon,
To see the rose and woodbine twine;
And ilka bird sang o' it's luve,
And fondly sae did I o' mine.

Wi' lightsome heart I pu'd a rose,
Fu' sweet upon it's thorny tree
And my fause luver staw my rose,
But ah! He left the thorn wi' me.

WHA'LL BE KING BUT CHARLIE?

The news frae Moidart cam' yestreen,
Will soon gar monie ferlie;
For ships o' war hae just came in,
And landit Royal Charlie.

Chorus
Come thro' the heather, aound him gather,
Ye're a' the welcomer early;
Around him cling wi' a' your kin;
For wha'll be King but Charlie?
Come thro' the heather, aound him gather,
Come Ronald come Donald, come a' thegither,
And crown your rightfu' lawfu' King!
For wha'll be King but Charlie?

The Hieland clans, wi' sword in hand,
Frae John o' Groats to Airlie,
Hae to a man declred to stand
Or fa' wi' royal Charlie.

Chorus
Come thro' the heather, aound him gather, etc.

The lowlands a', baith great an' sma,
Wi' mony a Lord and Laird, hae
Declar'd for Scotia's king an' law,
An speir ye wha but Charlie.

Chorus
Come thro' the heather, aound him gather, etc.

There's ne'er a lass in a' the lan'
But vows baith late an' early,
She'll ne'er to man gie her heart nor han',
Wha wadna fecht for Charlie.

Chorus
Come thro' the heather, aound him gather, etc.

Then there's a health to Charlies cause,
And be't complete an' early;
His very name our heart's blood warms;
To arms for Royal Charlie!

Chorus
Come thro' the heather, aound him gather, etc.

The authorship of this 'call to arms' for Charlie was unclear for some time,
but it is now attributed to Lady Nairne.

FOR A' THAT

Is there, for honest poverty
That hangs his head, and a' that
The coward-slave, we pass him by-
We dare be poor for a' that,
for a' that, and a' that
Our toils obscure , and a' that,
The rank is but the the guinea's stamp-
The man's the gowd for a' that.

What though on hamely fare we dine-
Wear hoddin grey, and a' that?
Gie fools their skills, and knaves their wine-
A man's a man for a' that
For a' that and a' that
Their tinsel show and a' that;
The honest man, though e'er sae poor,
Is king o' men for a' that.

Ye see yon birkie ca'd a lord,
Wha struts and stares for a' that;
Though hundreds worship at his word,
He's but a coof for a' that:
For a' that and a' that,
His ribband, star and a' that;
The man of independendant mind,
He looks and laughs at a' that.

A Prince can mak' a belted Knight,
A marquis, duke and a' that;
But an honest man's aboon his might,
Gude faith he mauna fa' that!
For a' that and a' that,
Their dignities and a' that;
The pith o' sense and pride o' worth,
Are higher rank than a' that.

Then let us pray that come it may,
as come it will for a' that,
That sense and worth, oe'r a' the earth,
May bear the gree and a' that:
For a' that and a' that,
it's coming yet for a' that
That man to man the warls o'er,
Shall brothers be for a' that!

Robert Burns was not a revolutionary in the true sense of the word,
but he might seen as such by the society he ridicules in this satirical, written in 1795 shortly before he died

CULLODENS HARVEST

Cold winds on the moors blow.
Warm the enemy?s fires glow.
Like the harvest of Culloden,
Pain and fear and death grow.

Twas love of our prince drove us to Drumossie,
But in scarcely the time that it takes me to tell
The flower of our country lay scorched by an army
As ruthless and red as the embers of hell.

Cold winds on the moors blow.
Warm the enemy?s fires glow.
Like the harvest of Culloden,
Pain and fear and death grow.

The Campbell and McFall did the work of the English.
McDonald in anger did no work at all.
Twas musket and cannon against honor and courage.
Invader?s men stood while our clansmen did fall.

Cold winds on the moors blow.
Warm the enemy?s fires glow.
Like the harvest of Culloden,
Pain and fear and death grow.

None other than children are left to the women,
With only the memory of father and son --
Turned out of their homes to make shelter for strangers.
The blackest of hours on this land has begun.

Cold winds on the moors blow
Warm the enemy?s fires glow
Like the harvest of Culloden,
Pain and fear and death grow.

supplied by Terri Cameron Illinois

100 PIPERS

Wi' a hundred pipers, a' a', an' a',
Wi' a hundred pipers, a' a', an' a',
We'll up an' gie them a blaw, a blaw
Wi' a hundred pipers, a' a', an' a'.
O it's owre the border awa', awa'
It's owre the border awa', awa',
We'll on an' we'll march to Carlisle ha'
Wi' its yetts, its castle an' a', an a'.

cho: Wi' a hundred pipers, a' a', an' a',
Wi' a hundred pipers, a' a', an' a',
We'll up an' gie them a blaw, a blaw
Wi' a hundred pipers, a' a', an' a'.

Oh! our sodger lads looked braw, looked braw,
Wi' their tartan kilts an' a', an' a',
Wi' their bonnets an' feathers an' glitt'rin' gear,
An' pibrochs sounding loud and clear.
Will they a' return to their ain dear glen?
Will they a' return oor Heilan' men?
Second sichted Sandy looked fu' wae.
An' mithers grat when they march'd away.

cho:

Oh! wha' is foremos o' a', o' a',
Oh wha' is foremost o' a', o' a',
Bonnie Charlie the King o' us a', hurrah!
Wi' his hundred pipers an' a', an ' a'.
His bonnet and feathers he's waving high,
His prancing steed maist seems to fly,
The nor' win' plays wi' his curly hair,
While the pipers play wi'an unco flare.

cho:

The Esk was swollen sae red an' sae deep,
But shouther to shouther the brave lads keep;
Twa thousand swam owre to fell English ground
An' danced themselves dry to the pibroch's sound.
Dumfoun'er'd the English saw, they saw,
Dumfoun'er'd they heard the blaw, the blaw,
Dumfoun'er'd they a' ran awa', awa',
Frae the hundred pipers an' a', an ' a'.

cho:

HTML line breaks added. Not perfectly, perhaps, but it's better than it was before. --JoeClone, 27-Apr-03.

02 Nov 02 - 01:47 PM (#816960)
Subject: Lyr Add: 20 SCOTTISH SONGS
From: GUEST,Big John

BLUE BELLS OF SCOTLAND

Oh where, tell me where, is your Highland laddie gone?
Oh where, tell me where, is your Highland laddie gone?
He's gone wi' streaming banners where noble deeds are done
And it's oh, in my heart I wish him safe at home

Oh where, tell me where, did your Highland laddie dwell?
Oh where, tell me where, did your Highland laddie dwell?
He dwelt in Bonnie Scotland, where blooms the sweet blue bell
And it's oh, in my heart I lo'ed my laddie well

Oh what, tell me what, does your Highland laddie wear?
Oh what, tell me what, does your Highland laddie wear?
A bonnet with a lofty plume, and on his breast a plaid
And it's oh, in my heart I lo'ed my Highland lad

Oh what, tell me what, if your Highland laddie is slain?
Oh what, tell me what, if your Highland laddie is slain?
Oh no, true love will be his guard and bring him safe again
For it's oh, my heart would break if my Highland lad were slain


BONNIE DUNDEE

Tae the lairds i' convention t'was Claverhouse spoke
E'er the Kings crown go down, there'll be crowns to be broke;
Then let each cavalier who loves honour and me
Come follow the bonnet o' bonnie Dundee.

CHORUS: Come fill up my cup, come fill up my can
Saddle my horses and call out my men
And it's Ho! for the west port and let us gae free,
And we'll follow the bonnets o' bonnie Dundee!

Dundee he is mounted, he rides doon the street,
The bells they ring backwards, the drums they are beat,
But the Provost, douce man, says "Just e'en let him be
For the toon is well rid of that de'il o' Dundee."

There are hills beyond Pentland and lands beyond Forth,
Be there lairds i' the south, there are chiefs i' the north!
There are brave duniewassals, three thousand times three
Will cry "Hoy!" for the bonnets o' bonnie Dundee.

Then awa' to the hills, to the lea, to the rocks
E'er I own a usurper, I'll couch wi' the fox!
Then tremble, false Whigs, in the midst o' your glee
Ye ha' no seen the last o' my bonnets and me.


CALEDONIA

I don't know if you can see
The changes that have come over me
In these last few days I've been afraid
That I might drift away
So I've been telling old stories, singing songs
That make me think about where I came from
And that's the reason why I seem
So far away today

Oh, but let me tell you that I love you
That I think about you all the time
Caledonia you're calling me
And now I'm going home
If I should become a stranger
You know that it would make me more than sad
Caledonia's been everything
I've ever had

Now I have moved and I've kept on moving
Proved the points that I needed proving
Lost the friends that I needed losing
Found others on the way
I have kissed the ladies and left them crying
Stolen dreams, yes there's no denying
I have traveled hard with coattails flying
Somewhere in the wind

CHORUS: Now I'm sitting here before the fire
The empty room, the forest choir
The flames that could not get any higher
They've withered now they've gone
But I'm steady thinking my way is clear
And I know what I will do tomorrow
When the hands are shaken and the kisses flow
Then I will disappear

Copyright 1982 Plant Life Music Ltd.


DONALD WHERE'S YOUR TROUSERS

I just got in from the Isle of Skye
I'm not very big and I'm awfully shy
the ladies shout as I go by--
Donald where's your trousers.

CHORUS: Let the winds blow high,
Let the winds blow low,
down the street in my kilt I go --
And all the ladies say hello--
Donald where's your trousers

A lady took me to a ball
And it was slippery in the hall
I was afraid that I would fall
'cause I didn't have on my trousers

They'd like to wed me everyone
Just let them catch me if they can --
You canna put the brakes on a highland man
Who doesn't like wearing trousers.

To wear the kilt is my delight,
It isn't wrong, I know it's right.
The highlanders would get afright
If they saw me in trousers.

Well I caught a cold and me nose was raw
I had no handkerchief at all
So I hiked up my kilt and I gave it a blow,
Now you can't do that with trousers.


THE FLOWERS OF THE FOREST

I've heard them liltin', at the ewe milkin,'
Lasses a-liltin' before dawn of day.
Now there's a moanin', on ilka green loanin'.
The flowers of the forest are a' wede away.

As boughts in the mornin', nae blithe lads are scornin',
Lasses are lonely and dowie and wae.
Nae daffin', nae gabbin', but sighin' and sobbin',
Ilk ane lifts her leglin, and hies her away.

At e'en in the gloamin', nae swankies are roamin',
'Mang stacks wi' the lasses at bogle to play.
But ilk maid sits drearie, lamentin' her dearie,
The flowers of the forest are a' wede away.

In har'st at the shearin' nae youths now are jeerin'
Bandsters are runkled, and lyart, or grey.
At fair or at preachin', nae wooin', nae fleecin',
The flowers of the forest are a' wede away.

Dool for the order sent our lads to the Border,
the English for ance by guile wan the day.
The flowers of the forest, that fought aye the foremost,
The prime of our land lie cauld in the clay.

We'll hae nae mair liltin', at the ewe milkin',
Women and bairns are dowie and wae.
Sighin' and moanin' on ilka green loanin',
The flowers of the forest are all wede away.


THESE ARE MY MOUNTAINS

For fame and for fortune I wandered the earth
And now I've come back to the land of my birth
I've brought back my treasures but only to find
They're less than the pleasures I first left behind

For these are my mountains and this is my glen
The braes of my childhood will know me again
No land's ever claimed me tho' far I did roam
For these are my mountains and I'm going home
(last) and I have come home

The burn by the road sings at my going by
The whaup averhead wings with welcoming cry
The loch where the scart flies at last I can see
It's here that my heart lies it's here I'll be free

Kind faces will meet me and welcome me in
And how they will greet me my ain kith and kin
The night round the ingle old sangs will be sung
At last I'll be hearing my ain mother tongue.


BONNIE LASS OF FYFIE

There once was a troop of Irish dragoons
Come marching down thru Fyfie, O
And the captain feel in love with a very bonnie lass
And the name she was called was pretty Peggy-o

There's many a bonnie lass in the glen of Auchterlass
There's many a bonnie lass in Gairioch-o
There's many a bonnie Jean in the streets of Aberdeen
But the flower of them all lives in Fyvie, O

O come down the stairs, Pretty Peggy, my dear
Come down the stairs, Pretty Peggy-o
Come down the stairs, comb back your yellow hair
Bid a long farewell to your mammy-o

It's braw, aye it's braw, a captain's lady for to be
And it's braw to be a captain's lady-o
It's braw to ride around and to follow the camp
And to ride when your captain he is ready-o

O I'll give you ribbons, love, and I'll give you rings
I'll give you a necklace of amber-o
I'll give you a silken petticoat with flounces to the knee
If you'll convey me doon to your chamber-o

What would your mother think if she heard the guineas clink
And saw the haut-boys marching all before you o
O little would she think gin she heard the guineas clink
If I followed a soldier laddie-o

I never did intend a soldier's lady for to be
A soldier shall never enjoy me-o
I never did intend to gae tae a foreign land
And I will never marry a soldier-o

I'll drink nae more o your claret wine
I'll drink nae more o your glasses-o
Tomorrow is the day when we maun ride away
So farewell tae your Fyvie lasses-o

The colonel he cried, mount, boys, mount,boys, mount
The captain, he cried, tarry-o
O tarry yet a while, just another day or twa
Til I see if the bonnie lass will marry-o

Twas in the early morning, when we marched awa
And O but the captain he was sorry-o
The drums they did beat a merry brasselgeicht
And the band played the bonnie lass of Fyvie, O

Long ere we came to the glen of Auchterlass
We had our captain to carry-o
And long ere we won into the streets of Aberdeen
We had our captain to bury-o

Green grow the birks on bonnie Ethanside
And low lie the lowlands of Fyvie, O
The captain's name was Ned and he died for a maid
He died for the bonny lass of Fyvie, O


I BELONG TO GLASGOW

I've been wi' a couple o' cronies,
One or two pals o' my ain;
We went in a hotel, and we did very well,
And then we came out once again;
Then we went into anither,
And that is the reason I'm fu';
We had six deoch-an-doruses, then sang a chorus,
Just listen, I'll sing it to you:

I belong to Glasgow,
Dear old Glasgow town;
But what's the matter wi' Glasgow,
For it's goin' roun' and roun'!
I'm only a common old working chap,
As anyone here can see,
But when I get a couple o' drinks on a Saturday,
Glasgow belongs to me!

There's nothing in keeping your money,
And saving a shilling or two;
If you've nothing to spend, then you've nothing to lend,
Why that's all the better for you;
There no harm in taking a drappie,
It ends all your trouble and strife;
It gives ye the feeling that when you get home,
You don't give a hang for the wife!

I belong to Glasgow, etc.


YE JACOBITES BY NAME

Ye Jacobites by name, lend an ear, give an ear!
Ye Jacobites by name, lend an ear,
Ye Jacobites by name,
Your fautes I will proclaim,
Your doctrines I maun blame - you shall hear!

What is Right, and what is wrang, by the law, by the law?
What is Right, and what is Wrang, by the law?
What is Right, and what is Wrang?
A short sword and a lang,
A weak arm and a strang, for to draw!

What makes heroic strife, famed afar, famed afar?
What makes heroic strife famed afar?
What makes heroic strife ?
To whet th' assassin's knife,
Or hunt a Parent's life, wi bluidy war!

Then let your schemes alone, in the State, in the State!
Then let your schemes alone, in the State!
Then let your schemes alone,
Adore the rising sun,
And leave a man undone, to his fate!


KILLIECRANKIE

Whaur hae ye been sae braw, lad?
Whaur hae ye been sae brankie-o?
Whaur hae ye been sae braw, lad?
Come 'ye by Killiecrankie-o?

An' ye had been whaur I hae been
Ye wadna been sae cantie-o
An' ye had seen what I hae seen
On the braes o' Killiecrankie-o

I fought at land, I fought at sea
At hame I fought my auntie-o
But I met the Devil and Dundee
On the braes o' Killiecrankie-o

The bauld pitcur fell in a furr
And Clavers gat a crankie-o
Or I had fed an Athol gled
On the braes o' Killiecrankie-o

Oh fie, MacKay, What gart ye lie
I' the brush ayont the brankie-o?
Ye'd better kiss'd King Willie's loff
Than come tae Killiecrankie-o

It's nae shame, it's nae shame
It's nae shame to shank ye-o
There's sour slaes on Athol braes
And the de'ils at Killiecrankie-o


MAIRI'S WEDDING

CHORUS: Step me gaily, off we go
Heel for heel and toe for toe,
Arm in arm and off we go
All for Mairi's wedding.

Over hillways up and down
Myrtle green and bracken brown,
Past the sheiling through the town
All for sake of Mairi.

Plenty herring, plenty meal
Plenty peat to fill her creel,
Plenty bonny bairns as weel
That's the toast for Mairi.

Cheeks as bright as rowans are
Brighter far than any star,
Fairest o' them all by far
Is my darlin' Mairi.


SOUND THE PIBROCH

Sound the pibroch loud and high
From John O'Groats to the Isle of Skye!
Let all the Clans their slogan cry
And rise tae follow Charlie!

CHORUS: Tha tighin fodham, fodham, fodham
Tha tighin fodham, fodham, fodham
Tha tighin fodham, fodham, fodham
To rise and follow Charlie!

And see a small devoted band
By dark Loch Shiel have taen their stand
And proudly vow wi' heart and hand
To fight for Royal Charlie!

Frae every hill and every glen
Are gatherin' fast the loyal men
They grasp their dirks and shout again
"Hurrah! for Royal Charlie!"

On dark Culloden's field of gore
Hark! They shout "Claymore! Claymore!"
They bravely fight what can they more?
They die for Royal Charlie!

No more we'll see such deeds again
Deserted is each Highland glen
And lonely cairns are o'er the men
Who fought and died for Charlie!

The White Rose blossoms forth again
Deep in sheltered Highland glens
And soon we'll hear the cry we ken
Tae rise! And fight for Charlie!

(note "tha tighin fodham" is pronounced HA CHEEN FOAM and means "it comes upon me" or "I have the wish."


ROAMIN IN THE GLOAMIN

I've seen lots of bonnie lassies travellin' far and wide,
But my heart is centred noo on bonnie Kate McBride;
And altho' I'm no a chap that throws a word away,
I'm surprised mysel' at times at a' I've got to say--

CHORUS: Roamin' in the gloamin' on the bonnie banks o' Clyde,
Roamin' in the gloamin' wi' ma lassie by ma side,
When the sun has gone to rest, that's the time that I like best,
O, it's lovely roamin' in the gloamin'!

One nicht in the gloamin' we were trippin' side by side.
I kissed her twice, and asked her once if she would be my bride;
She was shy, and so was I, we were baith the same,
But I got brave and braver on the journey comin' hame.

Last nicht efter strollin' we got hame at half-past nine.
Sittin' at the kitchen fire I asked her to be mine.
When she promised I got up and danced the Hielan' Fling;
I've just been to the jewellers and I've picked a nice wee ring.


MY LAST FAREWELL TO STIRLING

No lark in transport mounts the sky
Nor leaves with early plaintive cry.
But I maun bid my last goodbye
My last farewell to Stirling, O.

CHORUS: Tho' far awa', my hairt's wi' you
Our youthful hours on wings they flew;
But l will bid my last adieu.
My last farewell to Stirling, O.

Nae mair I'll meet you in the dark.
Nor gang wi' you to the king's park.
Nor raise the hare oot frae their flap
When I gang far frae Stirling, O.

Nae mair I'll wander through the glen
Nor disturb the roost o' the pheasant hen
Nor chase the rabbits to their den
When I gang far frae Stirling, O.

There's one request before l go,
And that is to my comrades all:
My dog and gun ye'll keep for me
When I gang far frae Stirling, O.

Noo fare ye weel, my Jeannie dear.
For you I'll shed a bitter tear.
But I hope you'll find some other, dear.
When I am far frae Stirling, O.

Then fare ye weel, for I am bound
For twenty years to Van Dieman's Land.
But speak of me and what I've done
When I gang far frae Stirling, O.


MIST COVERED MOUNTAINS

CHORUS: Oh, roe, soon shall I see them,
Oh, hee-roe, see them, oh see them.
Oh, roe, soon shall I see them,
The mist covered mountains of home!

There shall I visit the place of my birth.
They'll give me a welcome the warmest on earth.
So loving and kind, full of music and mirth,
The sweet sounding language of home.

There shall I gaze on the mountains again.
On the fields, and the hills, and the birds in the glen.
With people of courage beyond human ken!
In the haunts of the deer I will roam.

Hail to the mountains with summits of blue!
To the glens with their meadows of sunshine and dew.
To the women and the men ever constant and true,
Ever ready to welcome one home!


MACPHERSONS LAMENT

Fare thee weel, you dungeons dark and strong,
Fareweel, fareweel to thee.
Macpherson's rant will ne'er be lang,
On yonder gallers tree.

Sae wontonly, sae dauntonly,
O rantonly gaed he,
He played a tune an' he danced aroon,
Below the gallers tree.

Well the laird o' Grant, you highlan' Sa'nt
That first laid hands on me,
He plead the cause o' Peter Broon,
He watched Macpherson dee.

By a woman's treacherous hand
That I was condemned to dee,
High on a ledge of her window she stood,
And a blanket she threw over me.

Some come here noo tae see me hang
And some to buy my fiddle,
Before I'll pairt wi' thee,
I'll brak' her through the middle.

Come ye loose the bands from off my hands
Bring tae me noo my sword,
There's nae a man in a' Scotland
That'll brave him at his word.

Little did my mother think
When first she cradled me,
That I would turn a rovin' boy
And die upon the gallers tree.

The reprieve was comin' o'er the brig o' Banff,
To set Macpherson free,
They pu' the clock a quarter fast,
And they hanged him to the tree.


THE DARK ISLE

As mists of the evening creep over the hill
And the sea round about her is silent and still
Forbidden dark island so dreary and cold
What mysterious tales can your black rocks unfold
While fishermen row past your dark ocean shore
And old wives are spinning and praying once more
No falsehood to dread no malice you hold
You are sworn to your secrets of stories untold

The old men will tell not a bird or a nest
At times not a seabird will stop there to rest
But you lie there in mist and cold watery waves
No harm is yet spoken no evil you show
Tis sacred you stand to folks long ago
No curses come from you or to you are shown
Just a lonely dark island a mysterious throne

But tho' they've not seen they'll tell what they know
Of kings and of princes who died long ago
Who rest in your coves and still to this day
They are seen in your shadows and thru the sea spray
So toast to yon mountains and summits of blue
And here's to the glens and the meadows of dew
It's not of these hills or valleys I dream
But the lonely dark island the home of the kings


BATTLE O FALKIRK

Up and run awa', Hawley, up and run awa'
The filabegs are comin' doon to gie your lugs a claw.
Young Charlie's face at Dunipace has gi'ed your mou' a thraw, Hawley
Blasting sight for bastard wight, the worst that e'er he saw!

Hielan' Geordie's at your tail, wi' Drummond, Perth and a'
(run awa')

Ere ye saw the bonnets blue down frae the Torwood draw
A wisp in need did ye bestead - perhaps you needed twa!
General Hurst that battle busk that prime o' warriors a', Hawley,
Whip and spur he thrust afar as fast as he could ga'

I hae but just ae word to say and ye maun hear it a',
We came to charge wi' sword and targe and nae to hunt ava',
When we came down aboun the town and saw nae faes at a',
We couldna half believe the truth that ye had left us a'!

Nae man bedeen believed his e'en till your brave back he saw, Hawley,
Bastard brat o' foreign cat had neither pluck nor paw,
We didna ken, but ye were men wha fight for foreign law,
Hey, fill your wame wi' brose at hame, it fits ye best of a'.

The very frown o' Hielan' loon, it gart ye drop the jaw,
Happ'd the face of a' disgrace and sickened Southron maw,
The very gleam o' Hielan' flame it puts you in a thaw,
Gae back and kiss your Daddy's miss, you're nane but cowards a'!

Up and scour awa', Hawley, up and scour awa'!
The Hielan' dirk is at your doup and that's the Hielan' law
Hielan Geordie's at your tail, wi' Drummond, Perth and a'
Had you but stayed wi' ladies maid, an hour and maybe twa,
Your bacon bouk and bastard snout, ye might have saved them a'!


FIELDS O BANNOCKBURN

Twas on a bonnie simmer's day,
me English came in grand array
King Edward's orders to obey,
Upon the Field of Bannockburn.

CHORUS: Sae loudly let the Pibroch wake
Each loyal Clan frae hill and lake,
And boldly fight for Scotia's sake
Upon the Field of Bannockburn.

King Edward raised his standard high,
Bruce shook his banners in reply -
Each army shouts for victory
Upon the Field of Bannockburn.

The English horse wi' deadly aim
Upon the Scottish army came;
But hundrteds in our pits were slain
Upon the Field of Bannockburn.

Loud rose the war cry of McNeil,
Who flew like tigers to the field
And made the Sass'nach army feel
There were dauntless hearts at Bannockburn.

McDonald's clan, how firm their pace-
Dark vengeance gleams in ev'ry face,
Lang had they thirsted to embrace
Their Sass'nach friends at Bannockburn.

The Fraser bold his brave clan led,
While wide their thistle banners spread-
They boldly fell and boldly bled
Upon the Field of Bannockburn.

The ne'er behind brave Douglas came,
And also with him Donald Graham,
Their blood-red painted swords did stain
The glorious Field of Bannockburn.

That day King Edward's heart did mourn,
With joy each Scottish heart did burn,
In mem'ry now let us return
Our thanks to Bruce at Bannockburn.


COULTERS CANDY

Ally, bally, ally bally bee,
Sittin' on yer mammy's knee
Greetin' for anither bawbee,
Tae buy mair Coulter's candy.

Ally. bally, ally, bally bee,
When you grow up you'll go to sea,
Makin' pennies for your daddy and me,
Tae buy mair Coulter's Candy.

Mammy gie me ma thrifty doon
Here's auld Coulter comin' roon
Wi' a basket on his croon
Selling Coulter's Candy.

Little Annie's greetin' tae
Sae whit can puir wee Mammy dae
But gie them a penny atween them twae
Tae buy mair Coulter's Candy.

Poor wee Jeannie's lookin' affa thin,
A rickle o' banes covered ower wi' skin,
Noo she's gettin' a double chin
Wi' sookin' Coulter's Candy.

02 Nov 02 - 02:32 PM (#816980)
Subject: RE: Lyr Add: OODLES of Scottis Lyrics
From: Malcolm Douglas

I don't want to seem discouraging, but only three of all these songs are not already in the DT and/or Forum. The new ones are

The Auld Scotch Sangs
The Auld Hoose
Granny's Hielan' Hame

You don't say whose website you got all this material from. Whoever they are, they don't seem terribly conscientious about crediting the writers of many of these songs. I was puzzled by one of their comments: [Mary of Argyll] "Written by two Englishmen, this song is as Scottish as any." I wonder why they didn't name the two Englishmen concerned? (For the record, they were Charles Jefferys and Sidney Nelson, who also wrote The Rose of Allandale) It has to be said, of course, that the set of Mary of Argyll in the Forum is not properly attributed either.

02 Nov 02 - 02:43 PM (#816988)
Subject: RE: Lyr Add: OODLES of Scottis Lyrics
From: Malcolm Douglas

Ah, found it. http://www.visitdunkeld.com/

02 Nov 02 - 02:51 PM (#816995)
Subject: RE: Lyr Add: OODLES of Scottis Lyrics
From: GUEST,Big John

I downloaded the songs about a year ago. The site owner is Ken McGirr, his eMail address is kmcgirr@zenon.logos.cy.net. When I saved the songs I did not save the web site address. I have made several attempts to re-locate the web site witout success. The site contains the phrase "All original copyrights respected".

02 Nov 02 - 04:38 PM (#817050)
Subject: RE: Lyr Add: OODLES of Scottis Lyrics
From: Jim McLean

It is flattering to have one of my songs included in the above collection but for the record, the correct title is The Massacre of Glencoe and credits would have been welcome.
Jim Mclean

03 Nov 02 - 07:52 AM (#817345)
Subject: RE: Lyr Add: OODLES of Scottish Lyrics
From: GUEST,gonihuvtaerejoinesoon Mac Tattie

Stop overdosing on the porrige pills, Big John, many of these songs are purile rubbish and are only to be heard fron tartan clad twats who usualy appear at shows that bore the tits off tourists. cheers

03 Nov 02 - 09:01 AM (#817365)
Subject: RE: Lyr Add: OODLES of Scottish Lyrics
From: wysiwyg

To say "All original copyrights respected" and then post them (where ever you found them) is an insult to the copyright hoilders. The way to respect copyright is not to infringe it. The phrase they used, as far as I know, has no legal meaning whatsoever.

~Susan

07 Nov 18 - 09:38 AM (#3960526)
Subject: RE: Lyr Add: OODLES of Scottish Lyrics
From: Jim Dixon

I have verified that lyrics to all of the above songs—not necessarily identical lyrics—have now been posted separately in other threads or in the Digital Tradition Database (DT)--which is a better place for them. If you want to discuss any of these songs, please do so in one of those threads, or start a new thread, if none exists.

A MAN’S A MAN FOR A' THAT
By Robert Burns – posted here

A SCOTTISH SOLDIER (GREEN HILLS OF TYROL)
By Andy Stewart – posted here

A WEE DEOCH-AN-DORIS
By Harry Lauder – posted here

AE FOND KISS
By Robert Burns – in DT here

AMAZING GRACE
By John Newton – posted here

ANNIE LAURIE
In the DT here

AULD LANG SYNE
By Robert Burns – posted here

BALLAD OF GLENCOE / MASSACRE OF GLENCOE
Posted here

BATTLE OF FALKIRK MUIR
Posted here

BLUE BELLS OF SCOTLAND / OH, WHERE, TELL ME WHERE?
By Mrs Anne Grant – posted here

BONNIE BANKS O' LOCH LOMON'
Posted here

BONNIE DUNDEE
Posted here

BONNIE LASS OF FYFIE
In the DT here

BONNIE STRATHYRE
Posted here

BONNIE WEE THING
By Robert Burns – posted here

CALEDONIA
By Dougie Maclean – posted here

COULTER'S CANDY
In DT here

CULLODEN'S HARVEST
By Alastair McDonald – posted here

DONALD WHERE'S YOUR TROUSERS
In the DT here.

FIELDS O BANNOCKBURN
By Macgregor Simpson – posted here

FLOWER OF SCOTLAND
Posted here

GRANNY'S HIELAN' HAME / GRANNY’S HIGHLAND HAME
by Sandy MacFarlane – posted here

I BELONG TO GLASGOW
Sung by Will Fyffe – posted here

KEEP RIGHT ON TO THE END OF THE ROAD
By Harry Lauder – posted here

KILLIECRANKIE
Posted here

LEWIS BRIDAL SONG/MAIRI'S WEDDING
By Hugh S. Roberton – posted here

LOCHNAGAR / LACHIN Y GAIR / LOCH NA GARR
By Lord Byron – posted here

MACPHERSON'S LAMENT/RANT/FAREWELL
Posted here

MARY OF ARGYLL
Posted here

MIST COVERED MOUNTAINS
Posted here

MY AIN FOLK
By Wilfrid Mills and Laura G. Lemon – posted here

MY LAST FAREWELL TO STIRLING
In the DT here

MY LOVE IS LIKE A RED RED ROSE
By Robert Burns – posted here

ROAMIN IN THE GLOAMIN
By Harry Lauder – posted here

SCOTLAND THE BRAVE
Posted here

SCOTS WHA HAE
Posted here

SOUND THE PIBROCH
by Mrs. Norman MacLeod Sr. and W J Bethancourt III – in the DT here

THE AULD HOUSE
By Lady Nairne – posted here

THE AULD SCOTCH SANGS
By Bethune & Leeson – posted here

THE BONNIE LASS O' BALLOCHMYLE
By Robert Burns – in the DT here

THE DARK ISLE
Posted here

THE FLOWERS OF THE FOREST
Posted here

THE ROAD AND THE MILES TO DUNDEE / THE ROAD TO DUNDEE
Posted here

THE ROAD TO THE ISLES
Posted here

THE SKYE BOAT SONG
by Sir Harold Boulton, Bart. - posted here

THE WILD MOUNTAIN THYME
Posted here

THESE ARE MY MOUNTAINS
By Jimmy Copeland – in the DT here

UIST TRAMPING SONG
In DT here

WESTERING HOME
By Hugh S. Roberton – posted here

WHA'LL BE KING BUT CHARLIE?
In the DT here

WI’ A HUNDRED PIPERS
By Lady Nairne – posted here

WILL YE NO COME BACK AGAIN?
In the DT here

YE BANKS AND BRAES O’ BONNIE DOON / BANKS O’ DOON
By Robert Burns – posted here

YE JACOBITES BY NAME
From Robert Burns – posted here

07 Nov 18 - 10:16 AM (#3960528)
Subject: RE: Lyr Req: Keep Right On to the End of the Road
From: Jim Dixon

The huge list of Scottish lyrics that GUEST posted above seems to be the same list that was posted later the same day in a new thread called Lyr Add: OODLES of Scottis Lyrics.

I have verified that lyrics to all of those songs—not necessarily identical lyrics—have now been posted separately in other threads or in the Digital Tradition Database (DT)--which is a better place for them. If you want to discuss any of those songs, please do so in one of those threads, or start a new thread, if none exists.

See my message here for a complete list of these songs with links to other places you can find them.

07 Nov 18 - 03:31 PM (#3960570)
Subject: RE: Lyr Add: OODLES of Scottish Lyrics
From: GUEST

16 years work! Well done, Jim.

02 May 23 - 03:11 AM (#4171295)
Subject: RE: Lyr Add: OODLES of Scottish Lyrics
From: Joe Offer

Here are more: http://www.rampantscotland.com/songs/blsongs_index.htm

02 May 23 - 03:34 PM (#4171349)
Subject: RE: Lyr Add: OODLES of Scottish Lyrics
From: Gallus Moll

bit of a hotch potch....huvny had time to check them a' oot, but some are classic ballads and / or traditional songs, ithers music ha' or tourist-tartan.. and a'thing inatween?!
OK, it can also be how you actually sing them, but ..... for folks no' au fait wi' Scots traditions, it might be confusing?

03 May 23 - 03:57 AM (#4171389)
Subject: RE: Lyr Add: OODLES of Scottish Lyrics
From: GUEST

What McTattie said