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|I'm A Rover
|A simple brief
thought on Scottish
Were the outdated
union not of some very
high value to England and
the English, why would
they fight so to try to
There are only so many
slices to a pie, for one to
have more, another must
Lastly - to those Scottish
"Loyalists" - to whom are
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'm a rover and seldom sober,
I'm a rover o' high degree;
It's when I'm drinking I'm always thinking
How to gain my love's company.
Though the night be as dark as dungeon,
No' a star to be seen above,
I will be guided without a stumble
Into the aims o' my am true love.
He steppit up to her bedroom window,
Kneelin' gently upon a stone,
He rappit at her bedroom window:
Darlin' dear, do you lie alone?
She raised her head on her snaw white pullow,
Wi' her airms aboot her breast,
Wha' is that at my bedroom window,
Disturbing me at my lang night's rest?
It's only me, your ain true lover,
Open the door and let me in,
For I hae come on a lang journey
And I'm near drenched unto the skin.
She opened the door wi' the greatest pleasure,
She opened the door and she let him in.
They baith shook hands and embraced each
Until the morning they lay as one.
The cocks were crawin', the birds were whistlin',
The burns they ran free abune the brae:
Remember lass, I'm a ploughman laddie
And the fairmer I must obey.
Noo ma love, I must go and leave you,
Tae climb the hills, they are far above;
But I will climb them wi' the greatest pleasure,
Since I've been in the airms o' ma love.