| 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 |
 |
| |
 |
| |
 |
| |
 |
| |
 |
| |
 |
| |
 |
| |
 |
| |
 |
| |
 |
| |
 |
| |
 |
| |
 |
| |
 |
| |
 |
| |
 |
| Irish' Music |
| Claire's Dragoons |
| It was once said to me, and has been voiced by many - that the only difference between the Scots and the Irish is that the Scots stopped fighting. My response to my Irish friends is that we stopped fighting for good reason. After putting OUR king on THEIR throne, WE thought WE had won ! Sadly the Scots have now spent four centuries wondering what happened ?? Perhaps NOW is the time to peacefully right the wrongs of the past. |
| 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. |
When, on Ramillies' bloody field, The baffled French were forced to yield, The victor Saxon backward reeled Before the charge of Clare's dragoons. The flags we conquered in that fray, Look lone in Ypres' choir, they say, We'll win them company today, Or bravely die like CIare's dragoons. Viva la, for Ireland's wrong! Viva la, for Ireland's right! Viva la, in battle throng, For a Spanish steed and sabre bright! Another Clare is here to lead, The worthy son of such a breed The French expect some famous deed, When Clare leads on his bold dragoons. Our colonel comes from Brian's race, His wounds are in his breast and face, The bearna baoghil is still his place, The foremost of his bold dragoon, Viva la, the new brigade! Viva la, the old one too! Viva la, the rose shall fade And the shamrock shine forever new! Oh! comrades, think how Ireland pines, Her exiled lords, her rifled shrines, Her dearest hope, the ordered lines, And bursting charge of Clare's dragoons. Then fling your green flag to the sky, Be "Limerick!" your battle-cry,, And charge, till blood floats fetlock-high Around the track of Clare's dragoons. Viva la, the new brigade! Viva la, the old one too! Viva la, the rose shall fade And the shamrock shine forever new! |