| 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 |
| The Blackbird |
| 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. |
| Y Fwyalchen 1. O gwrando, y beraidd fwyalchen, Clyw edn mwyn serchog liw du; A ei di yn gennad heb oedi At ferch fûm i'n caru mor gu? A dywed mal hyn wrth liw'r manod, O'i chariad rwy'n barod i'r bedd; A 'mywyd ar soddi sy'n gorffwys Ar ddwylo'r un geinlwys eigwedd. 2. Mae'n dda mod i'n galed fy nghalon, Lliw blodau drain gwynion yr allt; Mae'n dda mod i'n ysgafn fy meddwl Lliw'r banadl melyn ei gwallt. Mae'n dda 'mod i'n ieuanc'r, wy'n gwybod Heb arfer fawr drafod y byd; Pam peidiaist ti ferch â mhriodi A finnau'n dy ganlyn di cyd? The Blackbird Dear blackbird, I'll list why thou singest, My harp for awhile shall be still; The host of sweet thoughts that thou bringest My soul must with melody fill. The minstrel from childhood has known thee He ever was cheer'd by thy voice; And still as a friend he will own thee, Who calls on his heart to rejoice. The minstrel may oft sing of gladness, But never all of joy is his song, There still are old mem'ries of sadness, Which flow with his music along. While thou has no thought of forgetting The griefs of a long dreary past, Thou sing'st but of joy, nought regretting, Rejoicing thou sing'st the last. |