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
Broadsheet Ballads
My Husband
Has No Courage
In Him
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Were the outdated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.
Circa 1860-1880
Transcription
A Rare new Ballad,
Entituled
My Husband has no Courage in Him

To it's own proper Tune.

Into a morning as I went abroad,
even for to see the Flowers a springing,
In every bush there sate a Bird,
changing their notes were sweetly singing;
Casting my eye when I did espy
a maiden fair, and her hands a wringing,
She often cryed, and still replyed,
my Husband has no Courage in him,

At night when I go to my Bed,
thinking to get some Venus sporting,
No sleep at all goes in my head,
my Husband Iyes by me a Snorting;
Yet often times I tickle him;
he cannot choise, but know my meaning,
And with my heels I rubb his shins,
Yet I can put no courage in him.

My husband he is a tall young man,
he is a lad both fair and proper,   
With a handsome leg and well made foot
who gallantly can weild a raper,
He can caper, dance, and sing;
which makes the Ladies dearly love him;
But yet he wants the chiefest thing,
my Husband bas no courage in him.

All sorts of dyets I do provide,                
because I do so dearly love him }oyster pyes and
Marrow bones, &c.
But yet he wants the chiefest thing,
my Husband has no courage in him.
All sorts of dyets I do provide,
from slumbering sleep for to awake him;
Yolks of Eggs, and Ringo roots,
yet I can put no courage in him,

And if he do not mend in time,
I swear I'le wait no longer on him;
Hoping his Neighbours will be so kind,
as to make a Cuckold of him.
All ye young Maids that Husbands want,
take heed to me before you wed him;
Least ye should sing along with me,
my Husband his no courage in him.

FINIS.


In came Jonnie Paterson
Louping like a Ladie.
OR,
The Souldiers Reel.

"To its own proper Tune.

IT fell about the Month of April.
into the time of Lentran,
There were three old Sogers,
and they fell to the talking.
They talked up, they talked down,
till they came to the Border,
We'll take a Pint of this small Beer;
before that we go furder.

And they sat down at the Sun set,
sat till the Cocks were Crawing;
They bred strife among themselves,
who of them should pay the Lawing;
If ye be Sogers to your Trade,
or to your Occupation,
You's pay your Beer before you go,
or else you's find me Caution.

Before I find you Caution
for such a simple sum,
You and I'll the Battel try,
before the Moon go down.
And in came Jonnie Paterson
louping like a Ladie,
The first thing he got in his hand,
it was an Eelock spadie,

He lap about, he strake about,
he strake with such a bensil,
He gave the good man over the Crown,
good-man take that for Hansill
In came Maggie Davidson
was louping like a Lassie;
She said Good man your in the wrong,
or else your very saucie,

Ye's get Kail and Cudpork,
well bruilid on a Brander,
Twenty Pints of good strong Ale
weil mixt with Corriander.
The Corriander was so strong,
it leap into their brows Sir,
Before the morn at Sun rising
thev heard some other news Sir.

The Killing scrik'd the Codline mourn'd,
the Haddocks made great dool,
Well go on more to Ferrie Town
to see the Sogers Reel,

FINIS