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
Scots' Music
Hugh The
Graham
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Were the outdated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.
Tab/Sheet Music
As Available
As it befell upon one time
About midsummer of the year
Every man was taxed of his crimes
For the stealing of the Bishop's mare.

Our lords are to the hunting gone
Over the moors and mountains clear
And they have gripped Hugh the Graeme
For stealing of the Bishop's mare.

They have tied him hand and foot
And led him into Carlisle town
The lads and lasses stood on the walls
Crying, "Hugh the Graeme thou'll ne'er go down."

Then they have chosen a jury of men
'Mong all their best nobility
And twelve of them cried out at once
"Sir Hugh the Graeme he now must die."

Then it's up and spoke the lady Hume
As she sat by the Bishop's knee
"Five hundred measures of gold I'll give
To grant Sir Hugh the Graeme to me."

"O hold your tongue," the Bishop said,
"And ye'll let all your pleadings be.
Though all the Graemes were in this court
He should be hanged high for me."

They've ta'en him to the gallows-knoll
He looked to the gallows tree
Yet never colour left his cheek
Nor ever did he blink his eye.

He looked over his left shoulder
It was to see what he might see
And there he saw his old father
And he was weeping bitterly.

"O hold your tongue my father dear,
And with your weeping let it be.
Thy weeping's sorer on my heart
Than all that they can do to me."

"You'll give my brother John the sword
That's pointed with the metal clear,
And bid him come at eight of the clock
To see me pay the Bishop's mare."

"Remember me to Maggie my wife,
The next time you gang o'er the moor.
She is the cause I lose my life,
She with the Bishop played the whore."

"And you may tell my kith and kin
I never did disgrace their blood,
And when they meet the Bishop's cloak
To make it shorter by the hood."