| 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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| Welsh Music |
| Rising Of The Lark |
| 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. |
| Codiad Yr Hedydd 1. Clyw! Clyw! for eu ol glod, O! fwyn ed yw'r defn yn-nau'n dod, O wynfa lân i lawr. A'i mân ddefnynnau cân, Aneirif lu ryw dyrfa lân, Ddihangodd gyda'r wawr? Mud yw'r awel ar y waun, A brig y grug, yn esmyth gryn. Gwrando mae yr aber gain, Ac yn y brwyn ymguddia'i hun. Mor nefol serchol ydydw'r sain, Sy'n dod i swyno dyn. 2. Cwyd, cwyd ehedydd, cwyd, O le i le ar aden lwyd. Yn uwch, yn uwch o hyd: A dôs yn nes at lawen lu Cân, cân dy nodau cu, Adawodd boen y byd. Canu mae, a'r byd a glyw Ei alaw lon o uchel le: Cyfyd hiraeth dynol ryw, Ar ôl ei lais i froydd ne': Yn nes at Ddydd, yn nes at Dduw I fyny fel efe! Rising Of The Lark 1. Rise, rise, thou merry lark, Whose upward flight I love to mark, At early dawn of day. Leave, leave, thy mossy lair, With light wing cleave the yielding air, And carol forth thy lay! Sweet, oh sweet the honeyed note That swells within thy warbling throat! 'Tis a stream of melody That steals the raptured soul away, Delightful harbinger of day My blessing go with thee! 2. Night's ling'ring shades are fled, And Phoebus, from his ocean bed Through aether wings his flight. Oh! let my music sweet His presence with glad welcome greet In ditties of delight! Higher yet, still higher fly Still soaring upward to the sky; As when, in Eden's fairest grove Unto the new created pair You first did tune, to music rare, A merry song of love! |