All The Blue Bonnets Are Over The Border

Words by Sir Walter Scott (1771-1832)


CHORUS:
March, march, Ettrick and Teviotdale,
Why the deil dinna ye march forward in order?
March, march, Eskdale and Liddesdale,
All the Blue Bonnets are bound for the Border.

Many a banner spread
Flutters above your head,
Many a crest that is famous in story.
Mount and make ready then, Sons of the mountain glen,
Fight for the Queen and the old Scottish glory.

CHORUS:

Come from the hills where your hirsels are grazing,
Come from the glen of the buck and the roe;
Come to the crag where, the beacon is blazing,
Come with the buckler, the lance, and the bow.

CHORUS:

Trumpets are sounding, War-steeds are bounding,
Stand to your arms then, and march in good order;
England shall many a day, Tell of the bloody fray,
When the Blue Bonnets came over the Border.

CHORUS:







Amazing Grace

written by English poet and clergyman
John Newton (1725–1807),
published in 1779


Amazing grace, how sweet the sound
That saved a wretch like me
I once was lost, but now I’m found
Was blind, but now I see.

’Twas grace that taught my heart to fear
And grace that fear relieved
How precious did that grace appear
The hour I first believed.

Through many dangers, toils, and snares
I have already come
’Tis grace has brought me safe thus far
And grace will lead me home.

How sweet the name of Jesus sounds
In a believer’s ear
It soothes his sorrows, heals his wounds
And drives away his fear.

Must Jesus bear the cross alone
And all the world go free
No, there’s a cross for everyone
And there’s a cross for me.

When we’ve been here ten thousand years
Bright shining as the sun
We've no less days to sing God's praise
Than when we first begun.







Auld Lang Syne

written by Scottish poet
Robert Burns (1725–1807),
published in 1779

Original
Auld Lang Syne

Translation
Times Long Gone


Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And never brought to mind?
Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And days o’ lang syne!

Chorus:
    For auld lang syne, my dear
    For auld lang syne,
    We’ll tak a cup o’ kindness yet
    For auld lang syne!

We twa hae run about the braes,
And pu’d the gowans fine,
But we’ve wander’d mony a weary foot
Sin’ auld lang syne.

Chorus:
    For auld lang syne, my dear
    For auld lang syne,
    We’ll tak a cup o’ kindness yet
    For auld lang syne!

We twa hae paidl’t in the burn
Frae morning sun till dine,
But seas between us braid hae roar’d
Sin’ auld lang syne.

Chorus:
    For auld lang syne, my dear
    For auld lang syne,
    We’ll tak a cup o’ kindness yet
    For auld lang syne!

And there’s a hand, my trusty fiere,
And gie’s a hand o’ thine,
And we’ll tak a right guid willie-waught
For auld lang syne!

Chorus:
    For auld lang syne, my dear
    For auld lang syne,
    We’ll tak a cup o’ kindness yet
    For auld lang syne!

And surely ye’ll be your pint stoup,
And surely I’ll be mine!
And we’ll tak a cup o’ kindness yet
For auld lang syne!

Should old acquaintances be forgotten,
And never brought to mind?
Should old acquaintances be forgotten,
And days of long ago !

Chorus:
    For old long ago, my dear
    For old long ago,
    We will take a cup of kindness yet
    For old long ago.

We two have run about the hillsides
And pulled the daisies fine,
But we have wandered many a weary foot
For old long ago.

Chorus:
    For old long ago, my dear
    For old long ago,
    We will take a cup of kindness yet
    For old long ago.

We two have paddled (waded) in the stream
From noon until dinner time,
But seas between us broad have roared
Since old long ago.

Chorus:
    For old long ago, my dear
    For old long ago,
    We will take a cup of kindness yet
    For old long ago.

And there is a hand, my trusty friend,
And give us a hand of yours,
And we will take a goodwill draught (of ale)
For old long ago!

Chorus:
    For old long ago, my dear
    For old long ago,
    We will take a cup of kindness yet
    For old long ago.

And surely you will pay for your pint,
And surely I will pay for mine!
And we will take a cup of kindness yet
For old long ago!





Bonnie Dundee

Bonnie Dundee is a poem and a song written by Walter Scott about John Graham, 7th Laird of Claverhouse, 1st Viscount Dundee who was known by this nickname “Bluidy Clavers” (Bloody Claverhouse) by his opponents, but “Bonnie Dundee” by his followers among the Jacobites.

Tae the lairds i’ convention t’was Claverhouse spoke
E’er the Kings crown go down, there are crowns to be broke
Then each cavalier who loves honour and me
Let him follow the bonnet o’ bonnie Dundee.

Chorus

Come fill up my cup, come fill up my can
Come saddle my horses and call out my men
Unhook the west port and let us gae free,
For it’s up wi’ the bonnets o’ bonnie Dundee!

Dundee he is mounted, he rides doon the street,
The bells they ring backwards, the drums they are beat,
But the Provost, douce man, says "Just e’en let it be
For the toun is well rid of that de’il o’ Dundee."

Chorus

There are hills beyond Pentland and lands beyond Forth,
Be there lords i’ the south, there are chiefs i’ the north!
There are brave Duinnewassels, three thousand times three
Will cry “Hey!” for the bonnets o’ bonnie Dundee.

Chorus

Then awa’ to the hills, to the lea, to the rocks
Ere I own a usurper, I’ll crouch with the fox
And tremble, false whigs, in the midst of your glee
Ye hae no seen the last o’ my bonnets and me!





The Dark Island

Words by David Silver

Away to the west’s where I’m longing to be,
Where the beauties of heaven unfold by the sea,
Where the sweet purple heather blooms fragrant and free,
On a hilltop high above the Dark Island.

Chorus:

Oh, isle of my childhood, I’m dreaming of thee,
As the steamer leaves Oban and passes Tiree,
Soon I’ll capture the magic that lingers for me,
When I’m back once more upon the Dark Island.

So gentle the sea breeze that ripples the bay,
Where the stream joins the ocean, and young children play;
On the strand of pure silver, I’ll welcome each day,
And I’ll roam for ever more the Dark Island.

Chorus

True gem of the Hebrides, bathed in the light
Of the midsummer dawning that follows the night
How I yearn for the cries of the seagulls in flight.
As they circle high above the Dark Island

Chorus





Flowers Of The Forest

Lyrics by Jean Elliot(1756)

Meaning of words:

bandsters - binders
bogle - peek-a-boo
buchts - cattle pens
daffin’ - dallying
dowie - sad
dule - mourning clothes
fleeching - coaxing
gloaming - twilight
gabbin' - talking

hairst - harvest
ilka - every
leglen - stool
lyart - grizzled
runkled - crumpled
swankies - young lads
wae - woeful
wede - withered
yowe - ewe

I've heard them liltin’, at the ewe milkin’,
Lasses a-liltin’ before dawn of day.
Now there’s a moanin’, on ilka green loanin’.
The flowers of the forest are a’ wede away.

As boughts in the mornin’, nae blithe lads are scornin’,
Lasses are lonely and dowie and wae.
Nae daffin’, nae gabbin’, but sighin’ and sobbin’,
Ilk ane lifts her leglin, and hies her away.

At e’en in the gloamin’, nae swankies are roamin’,
'Mang stacks wi’ the lasses at bogle to play.
But ilk maid sits drearie, lamentin’ her dearie,
The flowers of the forest are a’ wede away.

In har’st at the shearin’ nae youths now are jeerin’
Bandsters are runkled, and lyart, or grey.
At fair or at preachin’, nae wooin’, nae fleecin’,
The flowers of the forest are a’ wede away.

Dool for the order sent our lads to the Border,
the English for ance by guile wan the day.
The flowers of the forest, that fought aye the foremost,
The prime of our land lie cauld in the clay.

We'll hae nae mair liltin’, at the ewe milkin’,
Women and bairns are dowie and wae.
Sighin’ and moanin’ on ilka green loanin’,
The flowers of the forest are all wede away.

I’ve seen the smiling
Of fortune beguiling,
I’ve tasted her pleasures,
And felt her decay;
Sweet is her blessing,
And kind her caressing,
But now they are fled
And fled far away.

I’ve seen the forest
Adorned the foremost,
Wi’ flowers o’ the fairest
Baith pleasant and gay,
Sae bonnie was their blooming,
Their scent the air perfuming,
But now they are withered away.

I’ve seen the morning,
With gold hills adorning,
And loud tempests storming,
Before parting day,
I’ve seen Tweed’s silver streams,
Glitt’ring in the sunny beams,
Grow drumlie and dark,
As they roll’d on their way;

O fickle fortune!
Why this cruel sportin?
Oh! Why thus perplex
Us poor sons of a day?
Thy frown canna fear me,
Thy smile canno cheer me,
Since the flowers o’ the forest
Are a’ wede away.






Gin I Were A Baron’s Heir

Lyrics by William Holder

O gin I were a baron’s heir,
An’ could I braid wi’ gems your hair,
And mak’ ye braw as ye are fair,
Lassie, would ye lo’e me?
An’ could I tak' ye tae the toun
An’ show ye braw sights mony a ain,
And busk ye wi’ a silken goun,
Lassie, would ye lo’e me?

Or should ye be content to prove,
In lowly life, unfading love,
A heart that nought on earth could move,
Lassie, would ye lo’e me?
And ere the lav’rock wing the sky,
Say, would ye to the forest hie,
And work wi’ me sae merrily,
Lassie, would ye lo’e me?

And when the braw moon glistens o’er
Our lonesome beild an’ heath’ry muir,
Will ye na greet that we’re sae puir,
Lassie, for I lo’e ye?
For I ha’e nocht to offer ye,
Nae gowd frae mine, nae pearl frae sea,
Nor am I come o’ high degree,
Lassie, but I lo’e ye!





Green Hills of Tyrol
also known by
The Scottish Soldier

Andrew “Andy" Stewart MBE (30 December 1933 – 11 October 1993)

There was a soldier, a Scottish soldier
Who wandered far away and soldiered far away
There was none bolder, with good broad shoulder
He’s fought in many a fray, and fought and won.
He’d seen the glory and told the story
Of battles glorious and deeds neforious
But now he's sighing, his heart is crying
To leave these green hills of Tyrol.

Because these green hills are not highland hills
Or the island hills, the’re not my land’s hills
And fair as these green foreign hills may be
They are not the hills of home.

And now this soldier, this Scottish soldier
Who wandered far away and soldiered far away
Sees leaves are falling and death is calling
And he will fade away, in that far land.
He called his piper, his trusty piper
And bade him sound a lay... a pibroch sad to play
Upon a hillside, a Scottish hillside
Not on these green hills of Tyrol.

And so this soldier, this Scottish soldier
Will wander far no more and soldier far no more
And on a hillside, a Scottish hillside
You’ll see a piper play his soldier home.
He'd seen the glory, he’d told his story
Of battles glorious and deeds victorious
The bugles cease now, he is at peace now
Far from those green hills of Tyrol.





Haughs o’ Cromdale
circa 1690

The lyrics of this song are confused. The Jacobite army was defeated on the lowlands (haughs) of Cromdale on 30 April 1690. But then an unknown bard, unhappy with the story of a lost battle, added an exaggerated description of Montrose’s victory over the Covenenters at Auldearn in 1645. Montrose wasn't even at the Battle of Cromdale, he had been dead for 40 years!

As I came in by Achindoon,
A little wee bit frae the town,
When to the Highlands I was bound
To view the haughs of Cromdale.
I met a man in tartan trews,
I spiered at him what was the news,
Quo’ he, “The Highland army rues
That e’er we came to Cromdale.”

“We were in bed, sir, every man,
When the English host upon us came;
A bloody battle then began
Upon the haughs of Cromdale.
The English horse they were so rude,
They bathed their hoofs in Highland blood,
But our brave clans, they boldly stood
Upon the haughs of Cromdale.

“But, alas! We could no longer stay,
For o’er the hills we came away,
And sore we do lament the day
That e’er we came to Cromdale.”
Thus the great Montrose did say:
“Can you direct the nearest way?
For I will o’er the hills this day,
And view the haughs of Cromdale.”

“Alas, my lord, you’re not so strong,
You scarcely have two thousand men,
And there’s twenty-thousand on the plane,
Stand rank and file on Cromdale.”
Thus the great Montrose did say,
“I say, direct the nearest way,
For I will o’er the hills this day,
And see the haughs of Cromdale."

They were at dinner, every man,
When the great Montrose upon them came;
A second battle then began
Upon the haughs of Cromdale.
The Grant, Mackenzie and M’Ky,
Soon as Montrose they did espy,
O then they fought most valiantly
Upon the haughs of Cromdale.

The M’Donalds they returned again,
The Camerons did their standard join,
M’Intosh played a bloody game
Upon the haughs of Cromdale.
The M’Gregors fought like lions bold,
M’Phersons, none could them control,
M’Lauchlins fought, like loyal souls
Upon the haughs of Cromdale.

M’Leans, M’Dougals, and M’Neils,
So boldly as they took the field,
And made their enemies to yield
Upon the haughs of Cromdale.
The Gordons boldly did advance,
The Frasers fought with sword and lance,
The Grahams they made the heads to dance,
Upon the haughs of Cromdale.

The loyal Stewarts, with Montrose,
So boldly set upon their foes,
And brought them down with Highland blows
Upon the haughs of Cromdale.
Of twenty-thousand Cromwell’s men,
Five-hundred fled to Aberdeen,
The rest of them lie on the plain,
Upon the haughs of Cromdale.






Highland Laddie

As in the case of most traditional Scottish folk songs,
Highland Laddie can be sung with lyrics.    One version
of the tune's ancient lyrics, which obviously has much to do with
Bonnie Prince Charlie's Jacobite Rising, goes:

Where ha’ ye been a’ the day?
Bonnie laddie, Hielan’ laddie
Saw ye him that’ far awa’
Bonnie laddie, Hielan’ laddie

On his head a bonnet blue
Bonnie laddie, Hielan’ laddie
Tartan plaid and Hielan’ trews
Bonnie laddie, Hielan’ laddie

When he drew his gude braid-sword
Then he gave his royal word.
Frae the field he ne'er wad flee
Wi’ his friends wad live or dee.

Geordie sits in Charlie's chair
But I think he’ll no bide there.
Charlie yet shall mount the throne
Weel ye ken it is his own.

There is yet another version, apparently originated
from Britain's colonial dates in America:

Was you ever in Quebec?
Bonny laddie, Highland laddie,
Loading timber on the deck,
My bonny Highland laddie.

High-ho, and away she goes,
Bonny laddie, Highland laddie,
High-ho, and away she goes,
My bonny Highland laddie.

Was you ever in Callao
Where the girls are never slow?

Was you ever in Baltimore
Dancing on the sanded floor?

Was you ever in Mobile Bay,
Screwing cotton by the day?

Was you on the Brummalow,
Where Yankee boys are all the go?

There is also a third version for the tune's
four-parted variation

The Lawland Lads think they are fine
But oh they're vain and idle gaudy
How much unlike the graceful mein
And manly looks o' my Highland Laddie

If I were free at will to choose
To be the wealthiest Lawland Lady
I'd tak' young Donald without trews
Wi' bonnet blue and Highland plaidie

(Chorus):
Oh my bonnie bonnie Highland Laddie
Oh my bonnie bonnie Highland Laddie
When I was sick and like to die
He rowed me in his Highland plaidie

O'er Bently Hill wi' him I'll run
And leave my Lawland kin and daddy
Frae winters chill and summers sun
He'll screen me in his Highland plaidie

A painted room, a silken bed
Maun please a Lawland Lord and Lady
But I could kiss and be as glad
Behind a bush in his Highland plaidie

Nae greater joy I'll e'er pretend
Than that his love prove true and steady
Like mine to him, which ne'er shall end
While heaven preserves my Highland Laddie

(Repeat Chorus)

This is out of the Scottish/Irish songs of Ludwig van Beethoven:
Bonny Laddie, Highland Laddie Beethoven Op. 108 no.7
(for Piano, Violin and Cello) Four Verses

Where got ye that siller moon, bonny laddie, highland laddie,
Glinting braw your bell a boon, bonny laddie, highland laddie?
Belted plaid and bonnet blue, bonny laddie, highland laddie,
Have yet been at Waterloo, bonny laddie, highland laddie?

Weels me on your tartan trews, bonny laddie, highland laddie,
Tell me, tell me, a’ the news, bonny laddie, highland laddie!
Saw ye Bonny by the way, bonny laddie, highland laddie?
Blucher wi’ his beard sae grey, bonny laddie highland laddie?

Or that doure and deadly Duke, bonny laddie, highland laddie,
Scatt’ring Frenchmen wi’ his look, bonny laddie, highland laddie?
Some say he the day may rue, bonny laddie, highland laddie,
Ye can tell gin this be true, bonny laddie, highland laddie.

Would yet tell me gin ye ken, bonny laddie, highland laddie,
Aught o’ Donald and his men, bonny laddie, highland laddie?
Tell me o’ my kilted Clan, bonny laddie, highland laddie,
Gin they fought, or gin they ran, bonny laddie, highland laddie?





The Jolly Beggarman

 

I am a little beggarman, a begging I have been
For three score years in this little isle of green
I’m known along the Liffey from the Basin to the Zoo
And everybody calls me by the name of Johnny Dhu.

Of all the trades a going, sure the begging is the best
For when a man is tired he can sit him down and rest
He can beg for his dinner, he has nothing else to do
But to slip around the corner with his old rigadoo.

I slept in a barn one night in Currabawn
A shocking wet night it was, but I slept until the dawn
There was holes in the roof and the raindrops coming thru
And the rats and the cats were a playing peek a boo.

Who did I waken but the woman of the house
With her white spotted apron and her calico blouse
She began to frighten and I said boo
Sure, don't be afraid at all, it’s only Johnny Dhu.

I met a little girl while a walkin out one day
Good morrow little flaxen haired girl, I did say
Good morrow little beggarman and how do you do
With your rags and your tags and your auld rigadoo.

I’ll buy a pair of leggins and a collar and a tie
And a nice young lady I’ll go courting by and by
I’ll buy a pair of goggles and I’ll color them with blue
And an old fashioned lady I will make her too.

So all along the high road with my bag upon my back
Over the fields with my bulging heavy sack
With holes in my shoes and my toes a peeping thru
Singing, skin a ma rink a doodle with my auld rigadoo.

O I must be going to bed for it’s getting late at night
The fire is all raked and now tis out of light
For now you’ve heard the story of my auld rigadoo
So good and God be with you, from auld Johnny Dhu.





Mairi's Wedding

 

Màiri Bhàn
Fonn: Mairi’s Wedding Sèist:
’S i mo ghaol-sa Màiri Bhàn
Màiri bhóidheach sgeul mo dhain
Gaol mo chridh’-sa Màiri Bhàn
’S tha mi ’dol ’ga pòsadh

1. Thuit mi ann an gaol an raoir
Bha mo chridhe shuas air beinn
Màiri Bhàn ri m’ thaobh a’ seinn
Tha mi ’dol ’ga pòsadh

2. ’S ann aig cèilidh aig a’ Mhòd
Thachair mise ris an òigh’
’S ise choisinn am Bonn Oir
’S tha mi dol ’ga pòsadh

3. Bi mo ghaol do Mhàiri Bhàn
Dìleas, dùrachail gu bràth
Seinnidh sinn d’a chèil’ ar gràdh
’S tha mi dol ’ga pòsadh

Chorus
Step we gaily on we go
Heel for heel and toe for toe
Arm in arm and row on row
All for Mairi's wedding.

Over hillways up and down
Myrtle green and bracken brown
Past the shieling through the town
All for sake of Mairi.

Chorus

Red her cheeks as rowans are
Bright her eye as any star
Fairest of them all by far
Is my darlin’ Mairi.

Chorus

Plenty herring, plenty meal
Plenty peat to fill her creel
Plenty bonny bairns as weel
That’s the toast of Mairi.

Chorus (Twice)





My Love She’s But A Lassie Yet

 

Oh my love she’s but a lassie yet
Oh my love she’s but a lassie yet
We’ll let her stand a year or twa
She’ll no be half sae saucy yet.

Chorus

I rue the day I sought her, O
I rue the day I sought her, O
Wha gets her needs na say she’s woo’d
But he may say he’s bought her, O!

Come draw a drap o’ the best o’t yet
Come draw a drap o’ the best o’t yet
Gae seek for pleasure where you will
But here I never missed it yet.

Chorus

We’re a’ dry wi’ drinkin’ o’t
We’re a’ dry wi’ drinkin’ o’t
The minister kiss’d the fiddler’s wife
He could na preach for thinking o’t.

Chorus

Repeat First Verse and Chorus





Orange And Blue aka:Brochan Lom

Roughly translated: Hot porridge cold porridge stick it on the wall.

"Brochan lom"
Mouth Music
(Scottish Gaelic)

"Thin Porridge"
Mouth Music
(English)

Brochan lom, tana lom, brochan lom na sùghain
Brochan lom, tana lom, brochan lom na sùghain
Brochan lom, tana lom, brochan lom na sùghain
Brochan lom ’s e tana lom ’s e brochan lom na sùghain

Chorus Brochan tana, tana, tana, brochan lom na sùghain
Brochan tana, tana, tana, brochan lom na sùghain
Brochan tana, tana, tana, brochan lom na sùghain
Brochan lom ’s e tana lom ’s e brochan lom na sùghain

Thugaibh aran dha na gillean leis a´ bhrochan sùghain
Thugaibh aran dha na gillean leis a´ bhrochan sùghain
Thugaibh aran dha na gillean leis a´ bhrochan sùghain
Brochan lom ’s e tana lom ’s e brochan lom na sùghain

Chorus

Seo an rud a gheibheamaid o nighean gobh' an dùine,
Seo an rud a gheibheamaid o nighean gobh' an dùine,
Seo an rud a gheibheamaid o nighean gobh' an dùine,
Brochan lom ’s e tana lom, ’s e brochan lom sùghain.

Chorus

Thin porridge, sparse and thin, thin and watery porridge.
Thin porridge, sparse and thin, thin and watery porridge.
Thin porridge, sparse and thin, thin and watery porridge.
Thin porridge, it is sparse and thin, it is thin and watery porridge.

Chorus
Sparse porridge, sparse, sparse, thin and watery porridge,
Sparse porridge, sparse, sparse, thin and watery porridge,
Sparse porridge, sparse, sparse, thin and watery porridge,
Thin porridge, it is sparse and thin, it is thin and watery porridge.

Give bread to the lads with the watery porridge,
Give bread to the lads with the watery porridge,
Give bread to the lads with the watery porridge,
Thin porridge, it is sparse and thin, it is thin and watery porridge.

Chorus

This is the thing to get from the blacksmith's daughter.
This is the thing to get from the blacksmith's daughter.
This is the thing to get from the blacksmith's daughter.
Thin porridge, it is sparse and thin, it is thin and watery porridge.

Chorus







Rakes Of Mallow

 

Beauing, belleing, dancing, drinking,
Breaking windows, cursing, sinking
Ever raking, never thinking,
Live the Rakes of Mallow;
Spending faster than it comes,
Beating waiters bailiffs, duns,
Bacchus’ true begotten sons,
Live the Rakes of Mallow.

One time naught but claret drinking,
Then like politicians, thinking
To raise the “sinking funds” when sinking.
Live the Rakes of Mallow.
When at home, with da-da dying,
Still for mellow water crying;
But, where there’s good claret plying
Live the Rakes of Mallow.

Racking tenants, stewards teasing,
Swiftly spending, slowly raising,
Wishing to spend all their days in
Raking as at Mallow.
Then to end this raking life,
They get sober, take a wife,
Ever after live in strife,
And wish again for Mallow.





Rowan Tree

 

Oh rowan tree, oh rowan tree, thoul’t aye be dear to me,
Entwin’d thou art wi’ mony ties, o’ hame and infancy.
Thy leaves were aye the first o’ spring, thy flowr’s the simmer’s pride
There was nae sic a bonnie tree, in all the country side.
Oh rowan tree.

How fair wert thou in simmer time, wi’ all thy clusters white.
Now rich and gay thy autumn dress, wi’ berries red and bright
On thy fair stem were mony names which now nae mair I see.
But there engraven on my heart, forgot they ne’er can be.
Oh rowan tree.

We sat aneath thy spreading shade, the bairnies round thee ran
They pu'd thy bonnie berries red and necklaces they strang.
My mither, oh, I see her still, she smil'd our sports to see,
Wi’ little Jeannie on her lap, wi’ Jamie at her knee.
Oh rowan tree.

Oh, there arose my father’s pray’r in holy evening’s calm,
How sweet was then my mither’s voice in the martyr's psalm
Now a’ are gane! we met nae mair aneathe the rowan tree,
But hallowed thoughts around thee twine o’ hame and infancy,
Oh rowan tree.







Scotland The Brave

 

Hark when the night is falling
I hear the pipes are calling
Loudly and proudly calling
Down thro’ the glen.
There where the hills are sleeping
Now feel the blood a-leaping
High as the spirits of
The old Highland men.

Towering in gallant fame
Scotland my mountain hame
High may your proud standards
Gloriously wave.

Land of my high endeavour
Land of the shining silver
Land of my heart forever
Scotland the Brave.

High in the misty Highlands
Out by the purple islands
Brave are the hearts that beat
Beneath Scottish skies.
Wild are the winds to meet you
Staunch are the friends that greet you
Kind as the love that shines
From fair maidens eyes.






Skye Boat Song

 

Speed bonnie boat, like a bird on the wing
Onward, the sailors cry
Carry the lad that’s born to be king
Over the sea to Skye.

Loud the winds howl, loud the waves roar
Thunder clouds rend the air
Baffled our foes stand on the shore
Follow they will not dare.
Though the waves leap, soft shall ye sleep
Ocean’s a royal bed
Rocked in the deep, Flora will keep
Watch by your weary head.

Many’s the lad fought on that day
Well the claymore could wield
When the night came, silently lay
Dead on Culloden's field.

Burned are our homes, exile and death
Scatter the loyal men
Yet, e’er the sword cool in the sheath
Charlie will come again.







Teribus

 

Scotia felt thine ire, O Odin;
On the bloody field of Flodden;
There our fathers fell with honour,
Round their King and Country's banner.

Chorus: Teribus ye Teri-Odin,
Sons of heroes slain at Flodden,
Imitating Border bowmen,
Aye defend your rights and Common.

’Twas then Drumlanrig, gen’rous donor,
Gave (immortal be his honour),
What might sooth Hawick’s dire disaster,
Land for tillage, peats and pasture.

Chorus

Sacred was the widow’s portion,
Sacred long from all extortion;
Frugal temperance urged no cesses,
Birthday rates, nor baillies' messes.

Chorus

After Flodden was decided,
Surrey had his troops divided,
When he turned them loose to plunder,
O, heaven just! Why slept thy thunder?

Chorus

At the word each fiend advances,
Flodden’s blood yet dimmed their lances;
Entering hamlet, town or village,
Marked their way with blood and pillage.

Chorus

Far they spread this dire disorder,
O’er fair Scotia’s Alpine border,
O’er the vales of Tweed and Teviot,
’Tween Moffat hills and lofty Cheviot.

Chorus

Hawick they left in ruins lying,
Nought was heard but widows crying:
Labour of all kinds neglected;
Orphans wandering unprotected.

Chorus

All were sunk in deep dejection,
Non to flee to for protection;
Till some youths who stayed from Flodden,
Rallied up by Teriodin.

Chorus

Armed with sword, with bow and quiver,
Shouting, “Vengence now or never”
Off they marched in martial order
Down by Teviot's flowery border.

Chorus

Nigh where Teviot falls sonorous
Into Hornshole dashing furious,
Lay their foes with spoil encumbered;
All was still each sentry slumbered.

Chorus

Hawick destroyed, their slaughtered sires -
Scotia’s wrongs each bosom fires -
On they rush to be victorious,
Or to fall in battle glorious.

Chorus

Down they threw their bows and arrows,
Drew their swords like veteran heroes,
Charged the foe with native valour,
Routed them and took their colour.

Chorus

Now with spoil and honours laden,
Well revenged for fatal Flodden,
Home they marched, this flag displaying -
Teribus before them playing.

Chorus

Numbers more our heroes aiding,
Soon they checked all base marauding;
English bands, in wild disorder,
Fled for safety o'er the border!

Chorus

High the trump of fame did raise them,
Poets of those times did praise them -
Sung their feats in muirland ballants;
Scotia's boast was, “Hawick’s Callants.”

Chorus

Scarce a native glen or mountain -
Rugged rock or running fountain,
But have seen those youths with bravery,
Fight the tools of southern slavery.

Chorus

Thus we boast a Muir and colour
Won by deeds of hardy valor -
Won in fields where victory swithered -
Won when Scotia’s laurels withered.

Chorus

Annual since our flag’s been carried
Round our Muir by men unmarried,
Emblem grand of those who on it -
Matrimonial hands would stain it.

Chorus

Magistrates! Be faithful trustees,
Equal poise the scales of justice,
See our common rightly guidit,
quirky lairds nae mair divide it.

Chorus

“Hawick shall triumph ’mid destruction,”
Was a Druid’s dark prediction;
Strange the issues that unrolled it
Centuries after he'd foretold it.

Chorus

Back to fable-shaded eras,
We can trace a race of heroes,
Hardy, brave, inured to perils,
Foreign wars and feudal quarrels.

Chorus

Spite of levelling conflagration,
Spite of swelling inundation,
Spite of frequent lawless pillage,
Hawick arose by trade and tillage.

Chorus

Imitating Rome and Sparta,
Practised patriotic virtue,
Wisely taught each art and science,
Bravely bade her foes defiance.

Chorus

Peace be thy portion, Hawick for ever!
Thine arts, thy commerce, flourish ever!
Down to latest ages send it -
HAWICK WAS EVER INDEPENDENT!

Chorus

Hawick was ever independent!
Hawick was ever independent!
Down to latest ages send it -
Hawick was ever independent!




We’re No Awa’ Tae Bide Awa’

 

Chorus:
For we’re no’ awa’ tae bide awa’,
For we’re no’ awa’ tae le’e ye,
For we’re no’ awa’ tae bide awa’,
We’ll aye come back an’ see ye.

As I was walking down the street,
I met with Johnny Scobie,
I said to him will you take a dram,
He said “Why, Man, thats my hobby”,

Chorus

As I was gaun (?) doon the Overgate
I met wee Johnny Scobie
Says he tae me “Are ye fur a hauf”
Says I “Man, that's ma hoaby” (Hobby)

Chorus





When The Battle’s O’er

 

I returned to the fields of glory,
Where the green grasses and flowers grow.
And the wind softly tells the story,
Of the brave lads of long ago.

Chorus:

March no more my soldier laddie,
There is peace where there once was war.
Sleep in peace my soldier laddie,
Sleep in peace, now the battle’s over.

In the great glen they lay a sleeping,
Where the cool waters gently flow.
And the gray mist is sadly weeping,
For those brave lads of long ago.

Chorus

See the tall grass is there awaiting,
As their banners of long ago.
With their heads high forward threading,
Stepping lightly to meet the foe.

Chorus

Some return from the fields of glory,
To their loved ones who held them dear.
But some fell in that hour of glory,
And were left to their resting here.

Chorus








Caissons Go Rolling Along
(Caisson Song)

 

Over hill, over dale
As we hit the dusty trail,
And the Caissons go rolling along.
In and out, hear them shout,
Counter march and right about,
And the Caissons go rolling along.

Then it’s hi! hi! hee!
In the field artillery,
Shout out your numbers loud and strong,
For where’er you go,
You will always know
That the Caissons go rolling along.

In the storm, in the night,
Action left or action right
See those Caissons go rolling along
Limber front, limber rear,
Prepare to mount your cannoneer
And those Caissons go rolling along.

Then it’s hi! hi! hee!
In the field artillery,
Shout out your numbers loud and strong,
For where’er you go,
You will always know
That the Caissons go rolling along.

Was it high, was it low,
Where the heck did that one go?
As those Caissons go rolling along
Was it left, was it right,
Now we won't get home tonight
And those Caissons go rolling along.

Then it’s hi! hi! hee!
In the field artillery,
Shout out your numbers loud and strong,
For where’er you go,
You will always know
That the Caissons go rolling along.
That the Caissons go rolling along.
That the Caissons go rolling along

Intro:
March along, sing our song,
with the Army of the free
Count the brave, count the true,
who have fought to victory
We're the Army and proud of our name
We're the Army and proudly proclaim

First to fight for the right,
And to build the Nation's might,
And The Army Goes Rolling Along
Proud of all we have done,
Fighting till the battle’s won,
And the Army Goes Rolling Along.

Then it’s Hi! Hi! Hey!
The Army’s on its way.
Count off the cadence loud and strong (TWO! THREE!)
For where e’er we go,
You will always know
That The Army Goes Rolling Along.

Valley Forge, Custer’s ranks,
San Juan Hill and Patton’s tanks,
And the Army went rolling along
Minute men, from the start,
Always fighting from the heart,
And the Army keeps rolling along.

Then it’s Hi! Hi! Hey!
The Army’s on its way.
Count off the cadence loud and strong (TWO! THREE!)
For where e’er we go,
You will always know
That The Army Goes Rolling Along.

Men in rags, men who froze,
Still that Army met its foes,
And the Army went rolling along.
Faith in God, then we’re right,
And we'll fight with all our might,
As the Army keeps rolling along.

Then it’s Hi! Hi! Hey!
The Army’s on its way.
Count off the cadence loud and strong (TWO! THREE!)
For where e’er we go,
You will always know
That The Army Goes Rolling Along.





U. S. Marine Corps Hymn

 

From the halls of Montezuma, to the shores of Tripoli,
We fight our country's battles in the air, on land and sea.
First to fight for right and freedom, and to keep our honor clean;
We are proud to claim the title of United States Marine.

Our flag’s unfurled to every breeze from dawn to setting sun.
We have fought in every clime and place, where we could take a gun.
In the snow of far off northern lands and in sunny tropic scenes,
You will find us always on the job,The United States Marines.

Here's health to you and to our Corps which we are proud to serve.
In many a strife we've fought for life and never lost our nerve.
If the Army and the Navy ever look on heaven’s scenes,
they will find the streets are guarded by United States Marines.





Anchors Aweigh

 

Current Version:

Stand, Navy, out to sea, Fight our battle cry;
We’ll never change our course, So vicious foe steer shy-y-y-y.
Roll out the TNT, Anchors Aweigh.
Sail on to victory
And sink their bones to Davy Jones, hooray!

Anchors Aweigh, my boys, Anchors Aweigh.
Farewell to college joys, we sail at break of day-ay-ay-ay.
Through our last night on shore, drink to the foam,
Until we meet once more,
Here’s wishing you a happy voyage home.

Naval Academy Original Version

Stand Navy down the field, sails set to the sky.
We’ll never change our course, so Army you steer shy-y-y-y.
Roll up the score, Navy, Anchors Aweigh.
Sail Navy down the field and sink the Army, sink the Army Grey.

Get underway, Navy, decks cleared for the fray,
We’ll hoist true Navy Blue o Army down your Grey-y-y-y.
Full speed ahead, Navy; Army heave to,
Furl Black and Grey and Gold and hoist the Navy, hoist the Navy Blue

Blue of the Seven Seas; gold of God’s great sun
Let these our colors be till all of time be done-n-n-ne,
By Severn shore we learn Navy’s stern call:
Faith, courage, service true, with honor over, honor over all.





Semper Paratus

Words and Music by Captain Francis Saltus Van Boskerck, USCG,

From North and South and East and West,
The Coast Guard’s in the fight.
Destroying subs and landing troops,
The Axis feels our might.
For we’re the first invaders,
On every fighting field.
Afloat, ashore, on men and Spars,
You’ll find the Coast Guard shield.

We’re always ready for the call,
We place our trust in Thee.
Through howling gale and shot and shell,
To win our victory.
“Semper Paratus” is our guide,
Our pledge, our motto, too.
We’re “Always Ready,” do or die!
Aye! Coast Guard, we fight for you.

From Aztec shore to Arctic zone,
To Europe and Far East.
The Flag is carried by our ships,
In times of war and peace.
And never have we struck it yet,
In spite of foe-men's might,
Who cheered our crews and cheered again,
For showing how to fight.

We’re always ready for the call,
We place our trust in Thee.
Through howling gale and shot and shell,
To win our victory.
“Semper Paratus” is our guide,
Our pledge, our motto, too.
We’re “Always Ready,” do or die!
Aye! Coast Guard, we fight for you.

SURVEYOR and NARCISSUS,
The EAGLE and DISPATCH,
The HUDSON and the TAMPA
The names are hard to match;
From Barrow’s shores to Paraguay,
Great Lakes or ocean’s wave,
The Coast Guard fought through storms and winds
To punish or to save.

We’re always ready for the call,
We place our trust in Thee.
Through howling gale and shot and shell,
To win our victory.
“Semper Paratus” is our guide,
Our pledge, our motto, too.
We're “Always Ready,” do or die!
Aye! Coast Guard, we fight for you.

Aye, we’ve been “Always Ready”
To do, to fight, or die
Write glory to the shield we wear
In letters to the sky.
To sink the foe or save the maimed
Our mission and our pride
We'll carry on ’til Kingdom Come
Ideals for which we've died.

We’re always ready for the call,
We place our trust in Thee.
Through howling gale and shot and shell,
To win our victory.
“Semper Paratus” is our guide,
Our pledge, our motto, too.
We're “Always Ready,” do or die!
Aye! Coast Guard, we fight for you.

Original Versions and Changes
The original words and music were written by
Captain Francis S. Van Boskerck, USCG in 1927.
The first line of each chorus was changed in 1969.
The current verse, and a second chorus, were written
by Homer Smith, 3rd Naval District Coast Guard quartet,
Chief Cole, others and LT Walton Butterfield USCGR in 1943.

1st chorus (original, 1927 version)

So here’s the Coast Guard marching song,
We sing on land or sea.
Through surf and storm and howling gale,
High shall our purpose be.
“Semper Paratus” is our guide,
Our fame, our glory too.
To fight to save or fight to die,
Aye! Coast Guard, we are for you!

2nd chorus (added 1943)

So here’s the Coast Guard battle song,
We fight on land or sea.
Through howling gale and shot and shell,
To win our victory.
“Semper Paratus” is our guide,
Our pledge, our motto too.
We’re “Always Ready” do or die!
Aye! Coast Guard we are for you!





Off We Go Into The Wild Blue Yonder

Words and Music by Captain Robert Crawford,
©1939 as the "Army Air Corps Song.";
reportedly renewed 1977 by the USAF

Off we go into the wild blue yonder,
Climbing high into the sun;
Here they come zooming to meet our thunder,
At ’em boys, Give ’er the gun! (Give ’er the gun now!)
Down we dive, spouting our flame from under,
Off with one heckuva roar!
We live in fame or go down in flame.
Hey! Nothing’ll stop the U.S. Air Force!

Minds of men fashioned a crate of thunder
Sent it high into the blue
Hands of men blasted the world asunder,
How they lived God only knew!
Souls of men dreaming of skies to conquer
Gave us wings ever to soar,
With scouts before and bombers galore, Hey!
Nothing’ll stop the US Air Force!

Here’s a toast to the host of those
Who love the vastness of the sky,
To a friend we send a message
Of his brother men who fly.
We drink to those who gave their all of old,
Then down we roar
to score the rainbow’s pot of gold.
A toast to the host of men we boast, the US Air Force.

Zoom!

Off we go into the wild sky yonder,
Keep the wings level and true!
If you’d live to be a grey-haired wonder,
Keep your nose out of the blue! (Out of the blue, boy!)
Flying men guarding the nation’s border,
We’ll be there, followed by more,
In echelon we carry on! Hey!
Nothing’ll stop the US Air Force!





Heave Ho! My Lads! Heave Ho!

Song of the Merchant Marine

VERSE
Give us the oil, give us the gas
Give us the shells, give us the guns.
We'll be the ones to see them thru.
Give us the tanks, give us the planes.
Give us the parts, give us a ship.
Give us a hip hoo-ray!
And we'll be on our way.

CHORUS

Heave Ho! My Lads, Heave Ho!
It’s a long, long way to go.
It’s a long, long pull with our hatches full,
Braving the wind, braving the sea,
Fighting the treacherous foe;
Heave Ho! My lads, Heave Ho!
Let the sea roll high or low,
We can cross any ocean, sail any river.
Give us the goods and we'll deliver,
Damn the submarine!
We're the men of the Merchant Marine!