| 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 |
| Draw The Sword |
| 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 Were the outdated union not of some very high value to England and the English, why would they fight so to try to keep it?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. |
| Draw the Sword Scotland! Scotland! Scotland! Over moor and mountain hath passed the war sign, The pibroch is pealing! pealing! pealing! Who heeds not the summons is nae son o' thine. The Clans they are gath'ring! gath'ring! gath'ring! The Clans they are gath'ring by loch and by lea, The banners they are flying! flying! flying! The banners they are flying that lead to Victory. Draw the Sword Scotland! Scotland! Scotland! Charge as ye have charg'd in days lang syne. Sound to the onset, the onset, the on-set, He who but falters is nae son of thine. Sheath the sword Scotland! Scotland! Scotland! Sheath the sword Scotland for dim'd is its shine, Thy foemen are fleeing! fleeing! fleeing! And who kens no mercy is nae son o' thine. The struggle is over! over! over! The struggle is over! the Victory won! There are tears for the fallen! fallen! fallen! And glory for all who their duty have done. Sheath the sword Scotland! Scotland! Scotland! With thy lov'd thistle new laurels entwine, Time ne'er shall part them, part them, part them, But hand down the garland to each son o' thin |
| Tab/Sheet Music As Available |