|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.
|A simple brief
thought on Scottish
Were the outdated
union not of some very
high value to England and
the English, why would
they fight so to try to
There are only so many
slices to a pie, for one to
have more, another must
Lastly - to those Scottish
"Loyalists" - to whom are
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.