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Hazel Whyte
| Highland Lament |
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| Scottish Songs and Celtic Ballads |
| Highland Lament Oh I am come to the low countrie ochone, ochone, ochrie Without a penny in my purse. Tae buy a meal tae me. It winsnae so in the hieland hills. Ochone, ochone, ochrie nae body in the whole countrie. Sae happy wis as me. For then I had a score o' ky. Ochone, ochone, ochrie. Grazin on yon hills sae high. And givin’ milk tae me. And then I had three score o' yowes. Ochone, ochone, ochrie. Skippin on yon bonnie knowes. And castin’ woo’ fir me. Till Charlie Stewart came at last. Ochone, ochone, ochrie. MacDonalds arm was wantin then. For Scotland, aye and for me. Their woeful fate whit can I tell. Right tae the wrong did yield. MacDonald and his country fell. Upon Culloden’s field. Burns THE HIGHLAND WIDOW'S LAMENT. OH! I am come to the low countrie, =Och-on, och-on, och-rie! Without a penny in my purse, =To buy a meal to me. It was nae sae in the Highland hills, =Och-on, och-on, och-rie! Nae woman in the country wide =Sea happy was as me. For then I had a score o' kye, =Och-on, och-on, och-rie! Feeding on yon hills so high, =And giving milk to me. And there I had three score o' yowes, =Och-on, och-on, och-rie! Skipping on yon bonnie knowes, =And casting woo' to me. I was the happiest of the clan, =Sair, sair may I repine; For Donald was the brawest lad, =And Donald he was mine. Till Charlie Stewart cam at last, =Sae far to set us free; My Donald's arm was wanted then, =For Scotland and for me. Their waefu' fate what need I tell, =Right to the wrang did yield: My Donald and his country fell =Upon Culloden field. Oh! I am come to the low countrie, =Och-on, och.on, och-rie! Nae woman in the world wide =Sae wretched now as me. |
| Modern and Traditional Folk Music |
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| Robert Burns |