| 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 |
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| Scots' Music |
| I Hae Naebody Now |
| 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 Were the outdated union not of some very high value to England and the English, why would they fight so to try to keep it?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. |
| I ha'e naebody now, I ha'e naebody now To meet me upon the green Wi' light locks waving o'er her brow And joy in her deep blue e'en Wi' the raptured kiss and the happy smile And the dance o' the lightsome fay And the wee bit tale o' the news the while That had happened when I was away There's naebody kens, there's naebody kens And O may they never prove That sharpest degree o' agony For the child o' their earthly love To see a flower in its vernal hour By slow degrees decay Then, calmly aneath the hand o' death Breathe its sweet soul away O, dinna break, my poor auld heart Nor at thy loss repine For the unseen hand that threw the dart Was sent frae her Father and thine Yet I maun mourn, and I will mourn Even till my latest day For though my darling can never return I can follow the sooner away |
| Tab/Sheet Music As Available |