| 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 |
| Thou Bonny Wood |
| 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 Were the outdated union not of some very high value to England and the English, why would they fight so to try to keep it?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. |
Chorus Thou bonnie wood of Craigielee, Thou bonnie wood of Craigielee, Near thee I've spent life's early day, And won my Mary's heart in thee. The broom, the brier, the birken bush, Bloom bonnie on thy flow'ry lea; And a' the sweets that ane can wish, Frae Natur's hand are strew'd on thee. Chorus Far ben thy dark green plantin's shade, The cushat croodles am'rously; The mavis down thy bughted glade, Gars echo ring frae ev'ry tree. Chorus When winter blaws in sleety showr's Frae aff the norlan' hills sae hie, He lightly skiffs thy bonnie bow'rs, As laith to harm a flow'r in thee. Chorus Tho' fate should drag me south the line, Or o'er the wide Atlantic sea, The happy hours I'll never mind, That in youth ha'e spent in thee. Chorus |
| Tab/Sheet Music As Available |