| 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 |


| These Are My Mountains |






































| 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 Were the outdated union not of some very high value to England and the English, why would they fight so to try to keep it?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. |
For fame and for fortune I wandered the earth And now I've come back to the land of my birth I've brought back my treasures but only to find They're less than the pleasures I first left behind For these are my mountains and this is my glen The braes of my childhood will know me again No land's ever claimed me tho' far I did roam For these are my mountains and I'm going home The burn by the road sings at my going by The whaup overhead wings with welcoming cry The loch where the scart flies at last I can see It's here that my heart lies it's here I'll be free Kind faces will meet me and welcome me in And how they will greet me my ain kith and kin The night round the ingle old sangs will be sung At last I'll be hearing my ain mother tongue. |
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