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Traditional Celtic Music, Scottish Songs & Border Ballads
Scots' musician, songwriter, & balladeer.
Hazel Whyte
Scots' Music
Miller O' Dron
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Were the outdated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.
Well it's easy, queasy, saft and easy
Ay, the mill gae'd on
O' a' the millers e'er I saw
There's nane like him o' Dron

There was a miller lived in Dron
And he was fed on beef and brose
Wi' sturdy limbs and shoulders broad
As you may well suppose
The miller was a sturdy loon
That ever hung a stone
And he's ta'en his suit a' different ways
As the wives kent weel at Dron

Noo the lassie she gae'd tae the mill
Wi' corn upon her heid
Sayin', Miller, would your stones still work
For we are oot o' breid
He took this fair maid in his arms
And in motion put his stones
And clink and clank then went the mill
Wi' a' the grind o' Dron
Noo the lassie she comes skippin' hame
A' fu' o' joy an' glee
Gin she had jointed on springs
Nae suppler could she be
She threw the meal-pock aff her back
She cried, Mither, mak' a scone
O' a' the millers e'er I saw
There's nane like him o' Dron

Noo the auld wife when the corn was done
Gae'd tae the mill hersel'
And quickly tae the miller
She began her needs tae tell
He laid her doon upon her back
And in motion put his stones
An' there he grind the auld wife's batch
Wi' a' the grind o' Dron
Noo the auld wife she cam' skippin' hame
As canty as a bee
Sayin', Lassie, put the kettle on
For we must hae some tea
She threw the meal-pock aff her back
An' began tae dance an' croon
O' a' the millers e'er I saw
There's nane like him o' Dron

But when the auld man heard o' this
He set upon his wife
The daughter she did intercede
Tae save her mither's life
The auld man he did thump them baith
And he never mind their moan
And he made them promise faithfully
Nae mair tae gang tae Dron

But they did nae lang their promise keep
They wearied sair for John(?)
And when the auld man went fae hame
They baith gae'd doon tae Dron
An' there he tak's them ain by ain
An' he eased them o' their moan
An' ay, he grinds their multure free
Wi' a' the grind o' Dron
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