Now a' are gane! we meet na mair aneath the rowan tree!
But hallowed thoughts around thee twine o' hame and
infancy.
O rowan tree!
WHA'LL BE KING BUT CHARLIE?
THE news frae Moidart cam' yestreen,1
Will soon gar mony ferlie;2
For ships o' war hae just come in,
And landit Royal Charlie.
Come thro' the heather, around him gather,
Ye're a' the welcomer early;
Around him cling wi' a' your kin;
For wha'll be king but Charlie?
Come thro' the heather, around him gather,
Come Ronald, come Donald, come a' thegither
And crown your rightfu', lawfu' king!
For wha'll be king but Charlie?
The Hieland clans, wi' sword in hand,
Frae John o' Groats to Airlie,
Hae to a man declared to stand
Or fa' wi' Royal Charlie.
The Lowlands a', baith great an sma',
Wi' mony a lord and laird, hae
Declar'd for Scotia's king an' law,
An' speir ye wha but Charlie.
There's ne'er a lass in a' the lan,
But vows baith late and early,
She'll ne'er to man gie heart or han',
Wha wadna fecht for Charlie.
Then here's a health to Charlie's cause,
And be't complete an' early;
His very name our heart's blood warms;
To arms for Royal Charlie!
1 Last night. * Wonder.
Come thro' the heather, around him gather,
Ye're a' the welcomer early;
Around him cling wi' a' your kin;
For wha'll be king but Charlie?
Come thro' the heather, around him gather,
Come Ronald, come Donald, come a' thegither,
And crown your rightfu', lawfu' king!
For wha'll be king but Charlie?
CHARLIE IS MY DARLING
'TWAS on a Monday morning,
Right early in the year,
When Charlie came to our town,
The young Chevalier.
O Charlie is my darling,
My darling, my darling-
O Charlie is my darling,
The young Chevalier!
As he cam' marching up the street,
The pipes played loud and clear,
And a' the folk cam' running out
To meet the Chevalier.
O Charlie is my darling, etc.
Wi' Hieland bonnets on their heads,
And claymores bright and clear,
They cam' to fight for Scotland's right,
And the young Chevalier.
O Charlie is my darling, etc.
They've left their bonnie Hieland hills,
Their wives and bairnies dear,
To draw the sword for Scotland's lord,
The young Chevalier.
O Charlie is my darling, etc.
O, there were mony beating hearts,
And mony a hope and fear,
And mony were the prayers put up
For the young Chevalier.
O Charlie is my darling,
My darling, my darling-
O Charlie is my darling,
The young Chevalier!
ALEXANDER ROSS
[1699-1784]
WOOED AND MARRIED AND A'
THE bride cam' out o' the byre,
And O, as she dighted' her cheeks,
Sirs, I'm to be married the-night,
And ha'e neither blankets nor sheets
Ha'e neither blankets nor sheets,
Nor scarce a coverlet too;
The bride that has a' thing to borrow,
Has e'en right meikle' ado!'
Wooed and married and a'!
Married and wooed and a'!
And was she na very weel aff
That was wooed and married and a'?
Out spake the bride's father
As he cam' in frae the pleugh,
'O haud your tongue, my dochter,
And ye'se" get gear eneugh.
The stirk stands i' the tether,
And our braw bawsint yade
Will carry hame your corn:-
What wad ye be at, ye jade?'
You shall. • Property.
Fine white-faced mare.
Out spake the bride's mither:
'What, deil, needs a' this pride?
I hadna a plack' in my pouch
That night I was a bride.
My gown was linsey-wolsey,
And ne'er a sarkR ava;
And ye ha'e ribbons and buskin's
Mae1 than ane or twa.'
Out spake the bride's brither
As he cam' in wi' the kye:"
'Puir Willie wad ne'er ha'e ta’en ye
Had he kent ye as weel as I.
For ye're baith proud and saucy,
And no for a puir man's wife;
Gin" I canna get a better
I'se ne'er tak' ane i' my life!'
Out spake the bride's sister
As she cam' in frae the byre;
'Oh, gin I were but married,
It's a' that I desire!
But we puir folk maun live,
And do the best we can;
I dinna ken what I should want
If I could get but a man!'
JOHN SKINNER
[1721-1807]
TULLOCHGORUM
COME, gi'es sang, Montgom'rie cried,
And lay your disputes a' aside;
What signifies for folks to chide
For what was done before them?
Let Whig and Tory a' agree,
Whig and Tory, Whig and Tory,
• Ornaments. 10 More. 11 Cows.
Whig and Tory a' agree
To drop their whigmigmorum;
Let Whig and Tory a' agree
To spend this night in mirth and glee,
And cheerfu' sing, alang wi' me,
The reel o' Tullochgorum.
O Tullochgorum's my delight;
It gars us a' in ane unite;
And ony sumph that keeps up spite,
In conscience I abhor him.
Blithe and merry we'll be a',
Blithe and merry, blithe and merry,
Blithe and merry we'll be a'
And mak' a cheerfu' quorum.
For blithe and merry we'll be a'
As lang as we ha'e breath to draw,
And dance, till we be like to fa',
The reel o' Tullochgorum.
What needs there be sae great a fraise
Wi' dringin', dull Italian lays?
I wadna gi'e our ain strathspeys
For half a hunder score o' them.
They're dowf and dowie at the best,
Dowf and dowie, dowf and dowie,
Dowf and dowie at the best,
Wi' a' their variorum.
They're dowf and dowie at the best,
Their allegros and a' the rest;
They canna please a Scottish taste
Compared wi' Tullochgorum.
Let worldly worms their minds oppress
Wi' fears o' want and double cess,
And sullen sots themsel's distress
Wi' keeping up decorum.
Shall we sae sour and sulky sit?
Sour and sulky, sour and sulky,
Sour and sulky shall we sit,
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