"
Amang the trees, where humming bees,
At buds and flowers were hinging, O,
Auld Caledon drew out her drone,
And to her pipe was singing, O:
'Twas Pibroch, Sang, Strathspeys, and Reels,
She dirl'd them aff fu' clearly, O:
When there cam' a yell o' foreign squeels,
That dang her tapsalteerie, O.
Their capon craws an' queer "ha, ha's,"
They made our lugs grow eerie, O;
The hungry bike did scrape and fyke,
Till we were wae and weary, O:
But a royal ghaist, wha ance was cas'd,
A prisoner, aughteen year awa',
He fir'd a Fiddler in the North,
That dang them tapsalteerie, O.
The Minstrel At Lincluden
Tune--"Cumnock Psalms."
As I stood by yon roofless tower,
Where the wa'flow'r scents the dery air,
Where the howlet mourns in her ivy bower,
And tells the midnight moon her care.
Chorus--A lassie all alone, was making her moan,
Lamenting our lads beyond the sea:
In the bluidy wars they fa', and our honour's gane an' a',
And broken-hearted we maun die.
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