| One of the largest collections of Scottish Ballads & Scots Folk Songs, lyrics, celtic music and downloads available on the internet. |
| Traditional Celtic Music, Scottish Songs & Border Ballads |
| Scots' musician, songwriter, & balladeer. |
| Hazel Whyte |
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| Broadsheet Ballads |
| Ingenious Youth |
| A simple brief thought on Scottish Independance. Were the outdated union not of some very high value to England and the English, why would they fight so to try to keep it? There are only so many slices to a pie, for one to have more, another must have less. Lastly - to those Scottish "Loyalists" - to whom are you loyal? Scots royalty died in the 1700's so it can be no Scots crown - And certainly not it appears to those who came before, that bled for Scotland and her freedom ! |
| In the words of Burns, as he wrote from the heart. 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 would be a traitor-knave? Wha can fill a coward's grave? Wha sae base as be a Slave? Let him turn and flie: Wha for Scotland's king and law, Freedom's sword will strongly draw, Free-man stand, or free-man 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 Die!!! Choose your destiny. |
| These are songs, ballads and rhymes taken straight from the old "broadsheet press" which existed in Scotland between about 1550 and 1890. Where possible we have simply put direct scans in place. |
| As the Laird o' Glentosh was haudin' hame, Astride o' his nit brown steed, Up came muckle Macpherson Rab, Talking o' bleaching thread, thread, thread— Bleth'rin' bout bleaching thread. The Laird counsell'd Rab for to tak' care, As he was blam'd for sawin' seed, And that poor Jean Roy had suffer'd sair By his cracking her maiden head, head, head— By his smashing her maiden head. He advised him the parish to leave, And give up the bleaching o' thread, And gang to some spot whaur.chiels sic as him The population stood in need, need, need— The kintra stood in need. For his size and the shape o' his weel-fill'd breeks, The women would glegly foresee, Had ordain'd him the sex to fructify, Wherever he might be, be, be— Where'er he'd chance to be. Rab took the advice---- at least he's awa As a molecatcher 'yont the Clyde, Whaur, dootless, the wives and the lasses a' Are praying he lang may abide, bide, bide— Are praying he aye may abide. |
| Circa 1860-1890 |