The Battle of Harlaw



As I cam in by Dunidier
And doon by Netherha',
There were fifty thoosand Hieland men
Cam mairchin' tae Harlaw.
Wi' a dree dree dradie drumtie dree
A dree dree drumtie dra.

As I cam on and further on
And doon and by Harlaw,
They fell fu' close on ilka side;
Sic fun ye never saw.

They fell fu' close on ilka side;
Sic fun ye never saw,
For Hieland swords gied clash for clash
At the battle o' Harlaw.

Brave Forbes tae his brither did say,
"Noo brither, dinna ye see?
They beat us back on ilka side,
And we'll be forced tae flee."

"O no, o no, my brither dear,
That thing maun never be;
Tak ye your gude sword in your hand
And come your wa's wi' me."

Then back tae back the brithers twa
Gaed in amang the thrang,
And they hewed doon the Hieland men
Wi' swords baith sharp and lang.

MacDonal, he was young and stout,
Had on his coat o' mail,
And he has gane oot through them a'
Tae try his hand himsel'.

The first ae strake that Forbes strack,
He gart MacDonal reel;
The niest ae strake that Forbes strack,
The great MacDonal fell.

On Monaday, at mornin',
The battle it began;
On Saturday, at gloamin',
Ye'd scarce ken wha had wan.

Gin onybody spier at ye
For them ye took awa',
Ye may tell their wives and bairnies
They're sleepin' at Harlaw.

ROSE OF ALLENDALE
Trad.



The moon was bright, the night was clear
No breeze came over the sea
When Mary left her highland home
And wandered forth with me
The flowers be-decked the mountainside
And fragrance filled the vale
But by far the sweetest flower there
Was the Rose of Allendale

Twas the Rose of Allendale
Twas the Rose of Allendale
By far the sweetest flower there
Was the Rose of Allendale

Where e'er I wandered east or west
Though fate began to lour
A solace still was she to me
In sorrow's lonely hour
When tempests lashed our lonely barque
And rent her quivering sail
One maiden's form withstood the storm
'Twas the Rose of Allendale

Twas the Rose of Allendale
Twas the Rose of Allendale
One maiden's form withstood the storm
'Twas the Rose of Allendale

And when my fever'd lips were parched
On Afric's burning sands
She whispered hopes of happiness
And tales of distant lands
My life had been a wilderness
Unblessed by fortune's wheel
Had fate not linked my love to hers
The Rose of Allendale

Twas the Rose of Allendale
Twas the Rose of Allendale
Had fate not linked my love to hers
The Rose of Allendale

Toon O' Kelso
(Trad)



It was in the toon o' Kelso
A lovely woman did dwell
She loved her husband dearly
But another man twice as well

Singin, fal di la lairly, fal di la lairy, fal di la lairy, an

She went doon tae the chemist's shop
Some medicine for tae buy
For she had resolved in her ain mind
That her auld man should die

Singin, fal di la lairly, fal di la lairy, fal di la lairy, an

She bought a dozen marrow bones
And she's ground them up right sma'
And before he'd eaten the half o' them
He couldnae see ony at a'

Singin, fal di la lairly, fal di la lairy, fal di la lairy, an

Im tired o' my life he cried
I'm tired o' my life
I think I'll awa' and drown myself
And that will end this strife

Singin, fal di la lairly, fal di la lairy, fal di la lairy, an

So down the street together they went
She whistled and she sang
Oh my husbands going to drown himself
I'll help tae push him in

Singin, fal di la lairly, fal di la lairy, fal di la lairy, an

Well doon the street together they went
Til they came to the waters brim
Said he, You'll take a great long race
To help to ding me in

Singin, fal di la lairly, fal di la lairy, fal di la lairy, an

So she went back a great lang race
Tae help tae ding him in
But the cunning old bugger he jumped aside
And she gaed tumblin' in

Singin, fal di la lairly, fal di la lairy, fal di la lairy, an

Oh save ma life, oh save ma life
Oh save me when I call
Oh how can I save your life
When I canna see ony at a'

Singin, fal di la lairly, fal di la lairy, fal di la lairy, an

Well she swam up and she swam doon
Til she cam tae the waters brim
But the cunning old man he got a long stick
And he poked her further in

Singin, fal di la lairly, fal di la lairy, fal di la lairy, an

Ye jaud, ye jaud, ye silly auld jaud
Ye thought ye had me blind
But I'll gae whistlin' hame again
And another wife I'll find

Singin, fal di la lairly, fal di la lairy, fal di la lairy, an

Tiree Love Song



he-ree he-ro my bonnie wee girl.
he-ree he-ro my fair one.
Will you come away my love.
To be my own my rare one.

Smiling the land, shining the sea.
Sweet is the smell o' the heather.
Would we were younger you and me.
The two of us together.

Chorus:
he-ree he-ro my bonnie wee girl.
he-ree he-ro my fair one.
Will you come away my love.
To be my own my rare one.

All the day long, out on the peat.
Then on the shore in the gloaming.
Stepping it lightly with dancing feet.
And then together roaming.
Chorus

Laughter above, singing below.
Tripping it lithsome and airy.
Could we be asking of life for more.
My own my darling Mary.
Chorus

The Castle of Dromore



The October winds lament
Around the Castle of Dromore,
Yet peace is in its lofty halls,
My loving treasure store.
Though autumn leaves may droop and die
A bud of spring are you.
Sing hush-a-bye loo, la loo, lo lan,
Sing hush-a-bye loo, la lo.

Bring no ill winds to hinder us,
My helpless babe and me,
Dread spirit of Blackwater banks,
Clan Owen's wild banshee.
And Holy Mary pitying us
In heav'n for grace doth sue.
Sing hush-a-bye loo, la loo, lo lan,
Sing hush-a-bye loo, la lo.

Take time to thrive, my rose of hope,
In the garden of Dromore.
Take heed, young eagle, till your wings
Are feathered fit to soar.
A little rest and then the world
Is full of work to do
Sing hush-a-bye loo, la loo, lo lan,
Sing hush-a-bye loo, la lo.

THE SUNDAY DRIVER
-Bill Hill (CML)
(Tune: Traditional)



Well I've been a Sunday driver noo for many a happy year
And I've never had my Morris Minor oot of second gear
I can drive at fifty miles an hour on motorway or track
With me wife up front beside me and her mother in the back

CHORUS: There was me and my daddy and my daddy's mammy
And her sister's Granny and four of her chums
And Auntie Jean!

In a crowd of fifty trippers you can always pick me oot
By my "Don't blame me, I voted Tory" sticker on the boot
Wi' my bunch of heather stickin' in me radiator grille
And me stick-on transfer bullet holes and licence for to kill!

(And Auntie Peg!)

I've a hundred plastic pennants for to tell you where I've been
And my steering wheel is clad in simulated leopard-skin
Up front from the drivin' mirror hangs a plastic skeleton
And in the back a dog wi' eyes that flicker off and on!

(And Auntie May!)

I always drive as though my foot was restin' on the brake
And I weave aboot the road just so's ye cannae overtake
I can get y'sae frustrated that ye'll finish up in tears
And the sound of blarin' motor horns is music to my ears!

(And Auntie Liz!)

Now if ye wonder how these weekly trips I can afford
It's because I'm on a stipend from the Scottish Tourist Board
You're supposed tae enjoy the scenery, the finest of it's kind
And that is why I have a convoy followin' behind!

(And Auntie Rose!)

There's just no way of escaping me, no matter how ye seek
For the simple fact that I'm a Traffic Warden thru the week
I'm boostin' my efficiency, and here's my master plan:
I'm savin' up my pennies for to buy a Caravan!

(And Auntie Gert-trude!)

Ae Fond Kiss

by Robert Burns



Ae fond kiss, and then we sever
Ae farewell, and then forever
Deep in heart-wrung tears I'll pledge thee,
Warring sighs and groans I'll wage thee.

Who shall say that Fortune grieves him,
While the star of hope she leaves him
Me nae cheerful twinkle lights me,
Dark despair around benights me.

I'll ne'er blame my partial fancy:
Nothing could resist my Nancy
But to see her was to love her
Love but her, and love for ever.

Had we never loe'd sae kindly,
Had we never loe'd sae blindly,
Never met - nor 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

Ae fond kiss, and then we sever
Ae farewell, alas, for ever
Deep in heart-wrung tears I'll pledge thee,
Warring sighs and groans I'll wage thee.

Lord Of The Dance
Sydney Carter



I danced in the morning when the world was young
I danced in the moon and the stars and the sun
I came down from heaven and I danced on the earth
At Bethlehem I had my birth

Dance, dance, wherever you may be
I am the lord of the dance, said he
And I lead you all, wherever you may be
And I lead you all in the dance, said he

I danced for the scribes and the Pharisees
They wouldn't dance, they wouldn't follow me
I danced for the fishermen James and John
They came with me so the dance went on

Dance, dance, wherever you may be
I am the lord of the dance, said he
And I lead you all, wherever you may be
And I lead you all in the dance, said he

I danced on the Sabbath and I cured the lame
The holy people said it was a shame
They ripped, they stripped, they hung me high
Left me there on the cross to die

Dance, dance, wherever you may be
I am the lord of the dance, said he
And I lead you all, wherever you may be
And I lead you all in the dance, said he

I danced on a Friday when the world turned black
It's hard to dance with the devil on your back
They buried my body, they thought I was gone
But I am the dance, and the dance goes on

Dance, dance, wherever you may be
I am the lord of the dance, said he
And I lead you all, wherever you may be
And I lead you all in the dance, said he

They cut me down and I leapt up high
I am the life that will never, never die
I'll live in you if you'll live in me
I am the Lord of the dance, said he

Dance, dance, wherever you may be
I am the lord of the dance, said he
And I lead you all, wherever you may be
And I lead you all in the dance, said he

Wallace
(Jim McLean)



Chorus:
They murdered the Wallace for treason
His body has long since decayed
But no English crown can destroy him
For Wallace is with us today

They hung Wallace high on the gallows, then let him down ere he was dead
And while he choked, the Queen cheered him for daring to cross English tent
His heart and his liver they savaged as Her Majesty watched the glad scene
His head was cut off, he was quartered, 'twas an afternoon fit for a queen

He took up his sword against England, the cowardly sassenach ran
He beat them at Falkirk and Stirling and burnt them like rats from our land
King Edward of England was raging that Scotland was free once again
The Scottish Republican Army had wiped out his best fighting men

Oh William Wallace fought bravely, no Englishman could him defeat
But English gold bought Scottish quislings, and he was betrayed by Menteith
With a crown made of thorns he was tortured for setting his own country free
How am I a traitor, cried Wallace, When England is foreign to me

To Edinburgh, Stirling and Falkirk, from Inverness to Elderslie
His spirit is calling for justice and commands us to set ourselves free
And when once again we do battle for Wallace against England's scum
We've no fear of betrayal to the Saxon - let them come, let them come, let them come

(as sung by Nigel Denver)

Dumbarton's Drums
Traditional



Dumbarton's drums they sound sae bonnie
When they remind me of my Jeannie
Such fond delight can steal upon me
When Jeannie kneels and sings tae me

Across the hills o' burning heather
Dumbarton tolls the hour of pleasure
A song of love that has no measure
When Jeannie kneels and sings tae me

Dumbarton's drums they sound sae bonnie
When they remind me of my Jeannie
Such fond delight can steal upon me
When Jeannie kneels and sings tae me

It's she alone who can delight me
As gracefully she doth invite me
And when her tender arms enfold me
The blackest night can turn and flee

Dumbarton's drums they sound sae bonnie
When they remind me of my Jeannie
Such fond delight can steal upon me
When Jeannie kneels and sings tae me

Dumbarton's drums they sound sae bonnie
When they remind me of my Jeannie
Such fond delight can steal upon me
When Jeannie kneels and kisses me

Bonnie Lass o' Fyvie

Scottish music from the north east of Scotland. This song tells the story of an Irish Dragoon passing through the town of Fyvie. He falls in love with the darling of the town but she refuses him.
Next day he is killed in battle or did he die of a broken heart?



verse 1

There once was a troop o Irish dragoons,
Cam marchin doon through Fyvie o
The captains fell in love wi a very bonnie lass,
And her name it was cad pretty peggy o

verse 2

Now theres many a bonnie lass in the howe o Auchterlass,
Theres manys a bonnie lass in the Garioch,
Theres many a bonnie Jean on the streets o Aiberdeen,
But the floor o them a is in Fyvie o

verse 3

Oh its come doon the stair, pretty peggy my dear,
Its come doon the stair pretty Peggy o
Oh come doon the stairs, comb back your yellow hair,
Take a last farewell o your daddy o

verse 4

Its Ill gie you ribbons for your bonnie golden hair,
Ill gie you a necklace o amber o
Ill gie you silken petticoats befitting your degree,
If youll convoy me doon tae my chaumer o

verse 5

Oh I hae got ribbons for my bonnie golden hair,
And I got a necklace o amber o
And I got petticoats befitting my degree,
And Id scorn tae be seen in your chaumer o

verse 6

It was early next morning when we rode awa,
And o but our captain was sorry o,
The drums they did beat Oer the bonnie braes o Gight,
And the band played the lowlands o Fyvie o

verse 7

lang eer we went into old Meldrum toon,
Its we had to carry our Captain o
Lang eer we went into bonnie Aiberdeen,
Its we had our captain to bury o

verse 8

Green grow the birk on bonnie Ythanside,
And low lies the lowlands o Fyvie o
The captains name was Ned and he died for a maid,
He died for the bonnie maid o Fyvie o

Dark 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.

WHA WADNA FECHT FOR CHARLIE?
(Traditional)



CHORUS :


Wha wadna' fecht for Charlie?
Wha wadna' draw the sword?
Wha wad nae up an' rally
At the royal Prince's word?


Think on Scotland's ancient heroes
Think on foreign foes to fell
Think on glorious gruesome Wallace
What the proud usurpers quelled


CHORUS


Rouse ye rows o' kilted warriors
Rouse ye heroes o' the North
Rouse and join your chieftains' banners
'Tis your Prince that leads you forth


CHORUS


See the northern clans advancing
See Glengarrie and Montiel
See the brandished broadswords glancing
Highland hats of cruel steel


CHORUS


Know our Prince has raised his banner
Know triumphant is our cause
Know the Scottish Lion rallies
Let us fight for Prince and laws


CHORUS

Flower of Scotland
(Written by Roy Williamson of "The Corries")

Although "Flower of Scotland" is not a traditional song, it has been adopted as Scotland's de facto national anthem, along with "Scotland the Brave"



O 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,
Tae 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,
Tae 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,
Tae think again.

0 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,
Tae think again.

There Are No Pubs In Kirkintilloch
Unknown



In Kirkintilloch there's nae pubs
And I'm sure you'll wonder why
My brother and me, we went on a spree
We drank the pubs a' dry, a' dry
Drank the pubs a' dry

My Granpaw he worked down the pit
And so did my faither tae
You work like a mule when you leave the school
And you drink on a Saturday, my lads
You drink on a Saturday

In Kirkintilloch there's nae pubs
And I'm sure you'll wonder why
My brother and me, we went on a spree
We drank the pubs a' dry, a' dry
Drank the pubs a' dry

The gaffer doon the pit my lads
Could scarce believe his een
For my brother and me we howked mair coal
Than his latest cuttin' machine, my lads
His latest cuttin' machine

In Kirkintilloch there's nae pubs
And I'm sure you'll wonder why
My brother and me, we went on a spree
We drank the pubs a' dry, a' dry
Drank the pubs a' dry

My faither he was a Glesga man
And my mother come fae Troon
They baith did say the other day
It's time you settled doon, my lads
It's time you settled doon

In Kirkintilloch there's nae pubs
And I'm sure you'll wonder why
My brother and me, we went on a spree
We drank the pubs a' dry, a' dry
Drank the pubs a' dry

So I think I'll just get married lads
And hae a family tae
Then we'll use our mits and work in the pits
And drink on a Saturday, my lads
And drink on a Saturday

In Kirkintilloch there's nae pubs
And I'm sure you'll wonder why
My brother and me, we went on a spree
We drank the pubs a' dry, a' dry
Drank the pubs a' dry

Shoals of Herring
(Ewan MacColl)




With our nets and gear we're faring
On the wild and wasteful ocean.
Its there in the deep that we harvest and reap
As we hunt the bonnie shoals of herring

It was a fine and a pleasant summer's day
Out of Yarmouth harbor I was faring
As a cabin boy on a sailing lugger
For to go and hunt the shoals of herring

O the work was hard and the hours were long
And the treatment, sure it took some bearing
There was little kindness and the kicks were many
As we hunted for the shoals of herring

O we fished the Swarth and the Broken Bank
I was cook and I'd a quarter sharing
And I used to sleep standing on my feet
And I'd dream about the shoals of herring

O we left the homegrounds in the month of June
And to Canny Shiels we soon were bearing
With a hundred cran of the silver darlings
That we'd taken from the shoals of herring

Now you're up on deck, you're a fisherman
You can swear and show a manly bearing
Take your turn on deck with the other fellows
While you're searching for the shoals of herring

In the stormy seas and the living gales
Just to earn your daily bread you're daring
From the Dover Straits to the Faroe Islands
As you're following the shoals of herring

O I earned my keep and I paid my way
And I earned the gear that I was wearing
Sailed a million miles, caught ten million fishes
We were sailing after shoals of herring

Night and day we're faring
Wi' the winter winds and winter gales
Cauld and sweat, growing up, growing old, and dying
As we hunt the bonnie shoals of herring

THE BLACK DOUGLAS
(Roy Williamson/George Weir)



There was a man sae dark and true wha Scotland loo’ed sae dear
There was a king wha lang will rue the Scots wha flayed him sair
Gan cry the hounds o’ Douglasvale, gan string the Ettrick bow
Gan warn the spears o’ Liddiesdale that Edward leads the foe

He wore the cross our Andrew bore by the steps o’ calvary
He won the sword our Robert wore by the field o’ Balvennie
Gan shear the chains o’ slavery, gan dance my leige man lee
Gan ring the bell o’ Liberty shod wi’ the metal free

He won his spurs doon by St. Bride upon the green she free
He held the leopard and the tide by the field o’ Lintounie
Gan shine the shield yer father bore, gan strike yer metal free
Gan shine the helm yer father wore by the field of Torwoodlee

He rode yin nicht when it was mirk doon by the leopard’s lair
He chased the tyrant in his shirt around the field sae fair
Gan pack yer bags ye English loons, gan tak ye banners hame
Gan tak yer king wha sought oor croon and lost the bloody game

The Bricklayer's Song



Dear Sir I Write This Note To You To Tell You Of My Plight
For At The Time Of Writing It I'm Not A Pretty Sight
My Body Is All Black And Blue, My Face A Deathly Grey
And I Write This Note To Say Why I Am Not At Work Today

Whilst Working On The 14th Floor Some Bricks I Had To Clear
But Tossing Them Down FRom Such A Hight Was Not A Good Idea
The Foreman Wasn't Very Pleased He Is An Arkward Sod
And He Said I Had To Cart Them Down THe Ladders In Me Hod

Clearing All These Bricks By Hand It Was So Very Slow
So I Hoisted Up A Barrell And Secured A Rope Below
But In Me Haste To Do The Job, I Was To Blind To See
That A Barrell Full Of Building Bricks Was Heavier Than Me

And So When I Untied The Rope The Barrell Fell LIke Lead
And Clinging Tightly To The Rope I Started Up Instead
I Shot Up Like A Rocket, And To My Dismay I Found
That Halfway Up I Met The Bloody Barrell Coming Down

Well The Barrell Broke Me Shoulder As To The Ground It Sped
And When I Reached The Top I Banged The Pulley With Me Head
But I Clung On Tightly None With Shock From This Allmighty Blow
While The Barrel Spilled Out Half Its Bricks Some 14 Floors Below

When These Bricks Had Fallen From The Barrell To The Floor
I Then Outweighed The Barrell And So Started Down Once More
But I Clung On Tightly To The Rope My Body Racked With Pain
And Halfway Down I Met The Bloody Barrell Once Again

Now The Force Of This Collision Halfway Down The Office Block
Caused Multiple Abrations And A Nasty Case Of Shock
But I Clung On Tightly To The Rope As I Fell Towards The Ground
And I Landed On The Broken Bricks The Barrell Had Scatterred Round.

Now As I Lay There On The Ground I Thought I'd Passed The Worst
But The Barrel Hit The Pulley Wheel And Then The Bottom Burst
A Shower Of Bricks Rained Down On Me I Didn't Have A Hope
As I Lay There Bleeding On The Ground I Let Go The Bloody Rope

The Barrell Now Being Heavier So Started Down Once More
It Landed Right Across Me As I Lay There On The Floor
It BRoke 3 ribs And My Left Arm And I Can Only Say
I Hope You`ll Understand Why I Am Not At Work Today

The Banks Of Newfoundland
(Trad)



On St. Patrick's Day, the seventeenth
From New York we set sail
Kind fortune did favour us
Wi' a sweet and a pleasant gale
We bore away from Americay
The wind bein' off the land
And wi' courage brave we ploughed the wave
Bound down for Newfoundland

Our Captain's name was Nelson
Just twenty years of age
As true and brave a sailor lad
As ever ploughed the wave
The Eveline our brig was called
Belonging to McLean
And wi' courage brave we ploughed the wave
Bound down for Newfoundland

When three days out to our surprise
Our Captain he fell sick
He shortly was not able
To take his turn on deck
The fever raged which made us think
That death was near at hand
So we bore away from Halifax
Bound down for Newfoundland

At three o'clock we sighted a light
That we were glad to see
The small-pox bein' ragin'
That's what it proved to be
At four o'clock in the afternoon
As sure as God's command
He passed away in Arichat
Bound down for Newfoundland

All that night long we did lament
For our departed friend
And we were prayin' unto God
For what had been his end
We prayed that God would guide us
And keep us by his hand
And send us fair wind while at sea
Bound down for Newfoundland

Charlie Is My Darling
Lyric by: Robert Burns

I put lyrics to this song in a previous post, but this is the version that i have on a homemade CD. It was wrongly listed as by the Corries, but this is clearly not the Corries. This version was recorded by Eddi Reader, a Scot rock singer, on an album called "Eddi Reader Sings the Songs of Robert Burns". She has a beautiful clear singing voice, and the instrumentation is unique. If you can procure a copy of it, I recommend it heartily. This is the way Robert Burns wrote it.



'Twas on a Monday morning,
Right early in the year,
That Charlie came to our town,
The young Chevalier.

Chorus
Charlie is my darling,
My darling, my darling,
Charlie is my darling,
The young Chevalier.

As he was walking doon the street, [doon = down]
The city for to view,
O there he spied a bonie lass [bonie lass = beautiful girl]
The windae peckin' through. [windae peekin' = window lookin']
Oh Charlie is my darling...

So light he jumped up the stair,
And tirl'd at the pin; [tirl'd at the pin = rang the doorbell]
And wha's sae ready but herself [wha's sae = who's so]
To let the laddie in? [laddie = boy]
Oh Charlie is my darling...

He set his Jenny on his knee, [set = sat]
All in his highland dress;
For brawly weel he kent the way [brawly weel = very well; kent = knew]
To please a highland lass.
Oh Charlie is my darling...

It's up yon heathery mountain, [yon = that]
And down yon scroggie glen, [scroggie glen = scrubland]
We daurnae gang a-milking, [daurnae gang = dare not go]
For Charlie and all his men,
Oh Charlie is my darling...

ROLLING HILLS OF THE BORDER
(Matt McGinn)



Chorus:

When I die, bury me low
Where I can here the bonny Tweed flow
A sweeter place I never will know
Than the rolling hills of the Borders


I traveled far and wandered wide
I’ve seen the Hudson and the Clyde
I wandered by Loch Lomond side
But I dearly love the Borders


Chorus:

When I die, bury me low
Where I can here the bonny Tweed flow
A sweeter place I never will know
Than the rolling hills of the Borders


Oft do I remember the day
When wi’ my love I strolled by the Tay
But all its beauty fades away
Among the hills of the Borders


Chorus:

When I die, bury me low
Where I can here the bonny Tweed flow
A sweeter place I never will know
Than the rolling hills of the Borders


There’s a certain peace of mind
Bonny lassies there you will find
Men so strong and men so kind
Among the hills of the Borders


Chorus:

When I die, bury me low
Where I can here the bonny Tweed flow
A sweeter place I never will know
Than the rolling hills of the Borders
The rolling hills of the Borders

ROSES OF PRINCE CHARLIE
(Ronnie Browne)



Chorus:

Come now; gather now, here where the flowers grow
White is the blossom as the snow on the bend
Here now, freedom’s call, we’ll make a solemn vow
Now by the Roses of Prince Charlie


Fight again at Bannockburn your battle-axe to wield
Fight by your grand sire on Floddin’s bloody field
Fight at Calouden the bonnie prince to shield
Fight by the Roses of Prince Charlie


Chorus:

Come now; gather now, here where the flowers grow
White is the blossom as the snow on the bend
Here now, freedom’s call, we’ll make a solemn vow
Now by the Roses of Prince Charlie


Spirits of the banished in far and distant lands
Carved out the new world with sweat, blood and hands
Return now in glory and on the silver sand
Fight by the Roses of Prince Charlie


Chorus:

Come now; gather now, here where the flowers grow
White is the blossom as the snow on the bend
Here now, freedom’s call, we’ll make a solemn vow
Now by the Roses of Prince Charlie


Take your strength from the green fields, blanket, peat and cove
Ships from the Clyde have a Nation in their hold
The water of life some men need to make them bold
Black gold and fishes from the sea man


Chorus:

Come now; gather now, here where the flowers grow
White is the blossom as the snow on the bend
Here now, freedom’s call, we’ll make a solemn vow
Now by the Roses of Prince Charlie

Repeat Chorus

"Killiecrankie"



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

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

Chorus:

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

Chorus:

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

Chorus:

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

Chorus:

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

Chorus:

Coorie Doon




Chorus :
Coorie doon, Coorie doon, Coorie Doon, my darling,
Coorie doon the day.

Lie doon, my dear, and in your ear,
To help you close your eye,
I'll sing a song, a slumber song,
A miner's lullaby.

Your daddy's doon the mine my darling,
Doon in the Curbly Main,
Your daddy's howkin' coal my darling,
For his ain wee wean.

There's darkness doon the mine my darling,
Darkness, dust and damp,
But we must have oor heat, oor light,
Oor fire and our lamp.

Your daddy coories doon my darling,
Doon in a three foot seam,
So you can coorie doon my darling,
Coorie doon and dream.

The Wild Colonial Boy

Traditional



There was a wild colonial boy, Jack Duggan was his name
He was born and raised in Ireland, in a place called Castlemaine
He was his father's only son, his mother's pride and joy
And dearly did his parents love the wild colonial boy

At the early age of sixteen years he left his native home
And to Australia's sunny shore, he was inclined to roam
He robbed the rich to help the poor, he shot James MacEvoy
A terror to Australia was, the wild colonial boy

One morning on the prairie, as Jack he rode along
A-listening to the mocking bird, a-singing a cheerful song
Up stepped three troopers, wild and fierce, Kelly, Davis and Fitzroy
They all set out to capture him, the wild colonial boy

Surrender now, Jackie Duggan, boy, can't you see we're three to one?
Surrender in Victoria's name, for ye are a plunderin' son
Jack drew two pistols from his belt, he shouted to Fitzroy,
I'll fight, but not surrender, cried the wild colonial boy

He fired a shot at Kelly, which brought him to the ground
And he fired point blank at Davis, who fell dead at the sound
But a bullet pierced his brave young heart, from the pistol of Fitzroy
And that was how they captured him, the wild colonial boy

THE ROAD TO DUNDEE



Cauld winter was howlin’ o’er moor and o’er mountain
And wild was the surge o’ the dark rolling sea
When I met about daybreak a bonnie wee lassie,
Who asked me the road and the miles tae Dundee

Says, I ‘my young lassie, canna weel tell ya
The road and the distance I canna weel gie:
But if ye’ll permit tae gang a wee bittie.
I’ll show ye the road and the miles tae Dundee

At once she consented and gave me her arm;
Ne’er a word did I speir wha the lassie might 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,
And the spires of the toon in full view we could see;
She said “Gentle sir, I can never forget ye
For showing me so far on the road to Dundee.”

“This ring and this purse take to prove I am grateful
And some simple token in trust ye’ll gie me,
And in times to come I’ll the laddie remember
That showed me the road and the miles 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
Ere I parted wi’ her on the road to Dundee.

So here’s to the lassie I ne’er can forget her
And ilka young laddie that’s listening to me
No never be sweir to convoy a young lassie
Though it’s only to show her the road to Dundee.

The Queen's Maries
(Trad)



Yestre'en the Queen had four Marys
Tonicht she'll hae but three
There was Mary Seaton and Mary Beaton
Mary Carmichael and me

Oh little did my mother think
The day she cradled me
The lands I was tae travel in
The death I was tae dee

Oh tie a napkin round my e'en
No let me see to dee
And send nae word tae my dear mother
Who's far awa' o'er the sea

But I wish I could lie in oor ain kirk yard
Beneath yon old oak tree
Where we pulled the rowans
And strung the gowans
My brothers and sisters and me

Yestre'en the Queen had four Marys
Tonicht she'll hae but three
There was Mary Seaton and Mary Beaton
Mary Carmichael and me

But why should I fear a nameless grave
When I've hopes for eternity?
And I'll pray that the faith o' dying quick
Be given through grace to me

Yestre'en the Queen had four Marys
Tonicht she'll hae but three
There was Mary Seaton and Mary Beaton
Mary Carmichael and me
There was Mary Seaton and Mary Beaton
Mary Carmichael and me

Mary Hamilton was supposedly one of the "four Marys" who were ladies-in-waiting to Mary, Queen of Scots. However, the name of Mary Hamilton does not appear in any official records of the time. The Marys that attended the Queen in France were Seaton, Beaton and Livingston.

Other versions of this ballad (circa 1563) have Mary bearing an illegitimate child as a result of an affair with Lord Darnley, the Queen's husband. She drowns the baby and is subsequently hanged for her crime.

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Barrett's Privateers



Oh, the year was 1778, HOW I WISH I WAS IN SHERBROOKE NOW!
A letter of marque came from the king,
To the scummiest vessel I'd ever seen,

God damn them all!
I was told we'd cruise the seas for American gold
We'd fire no guns-shed no tears
Now I'm a broken man on a Halifax pier
The last of Barrett's Privateers.

Oh, Elcid Barrett cried the town, HOW I WISH I WAS IN SHERBROOKE NOW!
For twenty brave men all fishermen who
would make for him the Antelope's crew

God damn them all!
I was told we'd cruise the seas for American gold
We'd fire no guns-shed no tears
Now I'm a broken man on a Halifax pier
The last of Barrett's Privateers.

The Antelope sloop was a sickening sight,HOW I WISH I WAS IN SHERBROOKE NOW!
She'd a list to the port and her sails in rags
And the cook in scuppers with the staggers and the jags

God damn them all!
I was told we'd cruise the seas for American gold
We'd fire no guns-shed no tears
Now I'm a broken man on a Halifax pier
The last of Barrett's Privateers.

On the King's birthday we put to sea, HOW I WISH I WAS IN SHERBROOKE NOW!
We were 91 days to Montego Bay
Pumping like madmen all the way

God damn them all!
I was told we'd cruise the seas for American gold
We'd fire no guns-shed no tears
Now I'm a broken man on a Halifax pier
The last of Barrett's Privateers.

On the 96th day we sailed again, HOW I WISH I WAS IN SHERBROOKE NOW!
When a bloody great Yankee hove in sight
With our cracked four pounders we made to fight

God damn them all!
I was told we'd cruise the seas for American gold
We'd fire no guns-shed no tears
Now I'm a broken man on a Halifax pier
The last of Barrett's Privateers.

The Yankee lay low down with gold, HOW I WISH I WAS IN SHERBROOKE NOW!
She was broad and fat and loose in the stays
But to catch her took the Antelope two whole days

God damn them all!
I was told we'd cruise the seas for American gold
We'd fire no guns-shed no tears
Now I'm a broken man on a Halifax pier
The last of Barrett's Privateers.

Then at length we stood two cables away, HOW I WISH I WAS IN SHERBROOKE NOW!
Our cracked four pounders made an awful din
But with one fat ball the Yank stove us in

God damn them all!
I was told we'd cruise the seas for American gold
We'd fire no guns-shed no tears
Now I'm a broken man on a Halifax pier
The last of Barrett's Privateers.

The Antelope shook and pitched on her side, HOW I WISH I WAS IN SHERBROOKE NOW!
Barrett was smashed like a bowl of eggs
And the Maintruck carried off both me legs

God damn them all!
I was told we'd cruise the seas for American gold
We'd fire no guns-shed no tears
Now I'm a broken man on a Halifax pier
The last of Barrett's Privateers.

So here I lay in my 23rd year, HOW I WISH I WAS IN SHERBROOKE NOW!
It's been 6 years since we sailed away
And I just made Halifax yesterday

God damn them all!
I was told we'd cruise the seas for American gold
We'd fire no guns-shed no tears
Now I'm a broken man on a Halifax pier
The last of Barrett's Privateers

Scots Wha Hae

Scots wha hae is a patriotic song of Scotland, sometimes included with Scotland the Brave and The Flower of Scotland as an unofficial National anthem of the country.

The lyrics were written by Robert Burns and are supposed to be that of a speech given by Robert the Bruce before the Battle of Bannockburn in 1314, where Scotland gained her independence from England




Scots, wha hae wi' Wallace bled,
Scots, wham Bruce has aften 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 power -
Chains and slaverie!


Wha will be a traitor knave?
Wha will 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 usurpers low!
Tyrants fall in every foe!
Liberty's in every blow!
Let us do or dee!

Scots, wha hae wi' Wallace bled,
Scots, wham Bruce has aften led,
Welcome to your gory bed
Or to victorie

The Massacre of Glencoe



Oh, cruel is 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 the 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

Oh, cruel is 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 from Fort William wi 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."

Oh, cruel is 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 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.

Oh, cruel is 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.

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

Oh, cruel is 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.

Lyrics and music by Jim McLean (JawMac@aol.com), 1963. First recorded in 1969 by Nigel Denver. © Duart Music.

In 1691 the Prince of Orange offered a pardon to those Scottish clans whose chiefs would swear the oath of allegiance to him before January 1, 1692. MacIain, chief of the MacDonalds of Glencoe, proceeded to Fort William where he arrived on December 31. The military governor (Colonel Hill), however, refused to administer the oath on the grounds that it had to be taken before the civil magistrate. MacIain, therefore, was required to proceed to Inverary. There he had to wait three days for the return of the sheriff of Argyleshire, Sir Colin Campbell of Ardinglass. At first Campbell refused to administer the oath (since the deadline had now passed), but eventually he yielded and MacIain swore allegiance to the Prince of Orange.

Four weeks later at the beginning of February a company of 120 troops in the service of the Prince of Orange arrived at MacIain's home in Glencoe. They were under the command of Captain Campbell of Glenlyon; the Campbells were historically enemies of the MacDonalds, but Glenlyon was related by marriage to MacIain. Accordingly Glenlyon and his troops were offered hospitality by the MacDonalds of Glencoe, which they accepted for over a week.

In fact, Glenlyon had orders to put the community to "fira and sword" on the grounds that MacIain had not taken the required oath before the deadline of January 1. On February 13, without warning, Glenlyon and his troops fell upon the community, burning all the houses and massacring the people. Some 38 (of about 200 inhabitants), including MacIain himself, were killed that day by the troops of the Prince of Orange. Others who had fled into the mountains died in the next week from cold and starvation.

Charlie is My Darlin'


Chorus:
Charlie is my darlin, my darlin, my darlin,
Charlie is my darlin, the young Chevalier.


Twas on a Monday mornin
Right early in the year
When Charlie came to our town
The Young Chevalier.

Chorus:

As he cam' marchin' up the street
The pipes played loud and clear
And a' the folk cam' rinnin' out
To meet the Chevalier.

Chorus:

Wi' highland bonnets on their heads
And claymores bright and clear
They cam' to fight for Scotland's right
And for the Chevalier.

Chorus:

They've left their bonnie highland hills
Their wives and bairnies dear
To draw the sword for Scotland's lord
The young Chevalier.

Chorus:

Oh, there were mony beating hearts
And mony a hope and fear
And mony were the pray'rs put up
For the young Chevalier.

Chorus:


Lyrics by James Hogg and Carolina, Lady Nairne.

MOTHERS, DAUGHTER, WIVES
By Judy Small



The first time it was fathers,
The last time it was sons
And in between your husbands
Marched away with drums and guns.
And you never thought to question.
You just went on with your lives.
Cause all they taught you who to be,
Was mothers, daughters, wives.

You can only just remember
The tears your mother shed
As they sat and read their papers
Through the lists and lists of dead.
And the gold frames held the photograghs
That mothers kissed each night.
And the door frames held the shocked
And silent strangers from the fight.

It was twenty-one years later,
With children of your own.
The trumpets sounded once again,
And the soldier boys were gone.
And you drove their trucks and made their guns
And tended to their wounds.
And at night you kissed their photographs
And prayed for safe returns.

And after it was over
You had to learn again
To be just wives and mothers,
When you'd done the work of men.
So you worked to help the needy
And you never trod on toes.
And the photos on the pianos
Struck a happy family pose.

Then your daughters grew to women
And your little boys to men.
And you prayed that you were dreaming
When the call came up again.
But you proudly smiled and held your tears
As they bravely waved goodbye.
And the photos on the mantel pieces
Always made you cry.

And now you're getting older
And in time the photos fade.
And in widowhood you sit back
And reflect on the parade.
Of the passing of your memories
As your daughters change their lives.
Seeing more to our existence
Than just mothers, daughters, wives.

The Band Played Waltzing Matilda

Eric Bogle



When I was a young man I carried me pack
And I lived the free life of the rover
From the Murray's green basin to the dusty outback
I waltzed my Matilda all over
Then in 1915 my country said: Son,
It's time to stop rambling, there's work to be done
So they gave me a tin hat and they gave me a gun
And they sent me away to the war

And the band played Waltzing Matilda
When the ship pulled away from the quay
And amid all the tears, flag waving and cheers
We sailed off for Gallipoli

It well I remember that terrible day
When our blood stained the sand and the water
And how in that hell they call Suvla Bay
We were butchered like lambs at the slaughter
Johnny Turk, he was ready, he primed himself well
He rained us with bullets, and he showered us with shell
And in five minutes flat, we were all blown to hell
He nearly blew us back home to Australia

And the band played Waltzing Matilda
When we stopped to bury our slain
Well we buried ours and the Turks buried theirs
Then it started all over again

Oh those that were living just tried to survive
In that mad world of blood, death and fire
And for ten weary weeks I kept myself alive
While around me the corpses piled higher
Then a big Turkish shell knocked me arse over head
And when I awoke in me hospital bed
And saw what it had done, I wished I was dead
I never knew there was worse things than dying

Oh no more I'll go Waltzing Matilda
All around the green bush far and near
For to hump tent and pegs, a man needs both legs
No more waltzing Matilda for me

They collected the wounded, the crippled, the maimed
And they shipped us back home to Australia
The armless, the legless, the blind and the insane
Those proud wounded heroes of Suvla
And when the ship pulled into Circular Quay
I looked at the place where me legs used to be
And thank Christ there was no one there waiting for me
To grieve and to mourn and to pity

And the Band played Waltzing Matilda
When they carried us down the gangway
Oh nobody cheered, they just stood there and stared
Then they turned all their faces away

Now every April I sit on my porch
And I watch the parade pass before me
I see my old comrades, how proudly they march
Renewing their dreams of past glories
I see the old men all tired, stiff and worn
Those weary old heroes of a forgotten war
And the young people ask "What are they marching for?"
And I ask myself the same question

And the band plays Waltzing Matilda
And the old men still answer the call
But year after year, their numbers get fewer
Someday, no one will march there at all

Waltzing Matilda, Waltzing Matilda
Who'll come a-Waltzing Matilda with me?
And their ghosts may be heard as they march by the billabong
So who'll come a-Waltzing Matilda with me?

MacPherson's Rant



Farewell ye dungeons, dark & strong
This wretches destiny
MacPherson's day will nae be long
On yonder gallows tree

It was by a woman's treacherous hand,
That I was condemned tae dee.
She stood upon a windae ledge,
And a blanket she threw ower me.

Chorus
Sae rantinly, sae wantonly,
Sae dauntinly gaed he.
He played a tune, an' he danced aroon
a' low the gallows tree

Oh, what is death but parting breath?
On mony a bloody battle plain
I saw His face, and in this place
I saw Him yet again.

Chorus:

Well I've lived me a life of stearf and strife
I die by tragedy
But it breaks my heart I must depart
And nae avenged I be

Chorus:

So take these bands frae aff me hands
And bring to me my sword
For there nae be a man in all the land
I'll brave him at one word

Chorus:

So farewell light and me sun shine bright
And all benath the Highland skies
MacPherson's name will nae distaine
The wretch who will nae die

Chorus:

Loch Lomond

Notes: This song is often played jauntily and used as a representatively Scottish tune, particularly in films and computer games.
It deserves better. The song is a lament for a lost love killed in battle. He will now take the "high road" (in heaven) while Moira (his love) stays on the "low road."
They will never meet again in this life but they will some day meet again far above the bonnie banks of Loch lomond.




O wither away my bonnie May (which direction)
Sae late an' sae far in the gloamin' (so far in the dusk)
The mist gather grey o'er moorland and brae (hill)
O wither sae far are ye roamin'?

Chorus:
O ye'll tak the high road an' I'll tak the low
I'll be in Scotland afore ye
For me and my true love will never meet again
By the bonnie bonnie banks o' Loch Lomond.


I trusted my ain love last night in the broom (own) (bush)
My Donald wha' loves me sae dearly
For the morrow he will march for Edinburgh toon (town)
Tae fecht for his King and Prince Charlie (to fight)


O weel may I weep for yestreen in my sleep (well) (yesterday)
We stood bride and bridegroom together
But his arms and his breath were as cold as the death
And his heart's blood ran red in the heather


(chorus)


As dauntless in battle as tender in love
He'd yield ne'er a foot tae the foeman (enemy)
But never again frae the field o' the slain (from)
Tae his Moira will he come by Loch Lomond


The thistle may bloom, the King hae his ain (have his own)
And fond lovers may meet in the gloamin'
And me and my true love will yet meet again
Far above the bonnie banks of Loch Lomond


(chorus)

The Green Fields of France



1) Well, how do you do young Willie McBride?
Do you mind if I sit hear down by your graveside,
And rest for a while ‘neath the warm summer sun.
I’ve been working all day and I’m nearly done.
I can see by your gravestone you were only nineteen
when you joined the great fallen in nineteen sixteen.
Well I hope you died quick, and I hope you died clean,
Oh Willie McBride, was it slow and obscene?

Chorus:
Did they beat the drum slowly, did they play the fife lowly,
did they sound the death march, as they lowered you down?
Did the bands play the last post and chorus?
Did the pipes play the flowers of the forest?

2.) And did you leave a wife or sweetheart behind
In some faithful heart is your memory enshrined,
Although you died back in nineteen sixteen
In some faithful heart are you forever nineteen?
Or are you a stranger without even a name
Enclosed now forever behind a glass frame
In an old photograph torn, battered and stained
And faded to yellow in a brown leather frame.
Chorus:

3.) Now see how the sun shines o’er the green field of France
There’s a warm summer breeze makes the red poppies dance,
And see how the sun shines from under the clouds
There’s no gas or barbed wire, there’s no guns firing now.
But here in this graveyard it’s still no-man’s land
The countless white crosses in mute witness stand
To man’s blind indifference to his fellow man
To a whole generation who were butchered and damned.
Chorus:

4.) Now young Willie McBride, I can’t help wonder why
Do all those who lie here know why did they die.
And did they believe when they answered the call
Did they really believe that this war would end wars.
Well the sorrow, the suffering, the glory the pain,
The killing, the dying they were all done in vain
For young Willie McBride it all happened again
And again and again and again and again.
Chorus: