Best Scottish Music

Scotland the Brave

Hark when the night is falling
Hear! 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 river,
Land of my heart for ever,
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 maiden's eyes.

Towering in gallant fame etc.

Far off in sunlit places,
Sad are the Scottish faces,
Yearning to feel the Kiss Of sweet Scottish rain.
Where tropic skies are beaming,
Love sets the heart a-dreaming,
Longing and dreaming for the homeland again.

Towering in gallant fame etc.

(Scotland the Brave)
An ancient pipe tune and stirring words from the heart of Scotland.

Uist Tramping Song

Come along, come along,
Let us foot it out together,
Come along, come along,
Be it fair or stonny weather,
With the hills of home before us
And the purple of the heather,
Let us sing in happy chorus,
Come along, come along.

O gaily sings the lark,
And the sky's all awake
With the promise of the day,
For the road we gladly take;
So it's heel and toe and forward,
Bidding farewell to the town,
For the welcome that awaits us
Ere the sun goes down.

Chorus: Come along, come along, etc.

It's the call of sea and shore,
It's the tang of bog and peat,
And the scent of brier and myrtle
That puts magic in our feet;
So it's on we go rejoicing,
Over bracken, over stile,
And it's soon we will be tramping
Out the last long mile.

Chorus: Come along, come along, etc.

(Uist Tramping Song)
Uist is part of the Outer Hebrides. With one hundred and ninety freshwater lochs in South Uist, it is a walking and fishing paradise.

The End of the Road

Ev'ry road thro' life is a long, long road,
Fill'd with joys and sorrows too,
As you journey on how your heart will yearn
For the things most dear to you.
With wealth and love 'tis so,
But onward we must go.

Chorus:
Keep right on to the end of the road,
Keep right on to the end,
Tho' the way be long, let your heart be strong,
Keep right on round the bend.
Tho' you're tired and weary still journey on,
Till you come to your happy abode,
Where all the love you've been dreaming of
Will be there at the end of the road.

With a big stout heart to a long steep hill,
We may get there with a smile,
With a good kind thought and an end in view,
We may cut short many a mile.
So let courage ev'ry day
Be your guiding star alway.

Chorus: Keep right on etc.

(The End of the Road) This song is probably the most popular of all the songs ,written and sung by Sir Harry Lauder both at home and in the countries he toured abroad.

Fair is the morn in flow'ry May,
And sweet is night in autumn mild,
When roving thro' the garden gay,
Or wand'ring in the lonely wild;
But woman nature's darling child
There all her charms she does compile;
E'en there her other works are foil'd
E'en there her other works are foil'd
By the bonnie lass 0' Ballochmyle.

Chorus
The bonnie lass 0' Ballochmyle
The bonnie lass!
The bonnie, bonnie lass!
The bonnie lasso' Ballochmyle.

O had she been a country maid,
And I the happy country swain,
Tho' shelter'd in the lowest shed
That ever rose on Scotland's plain!
Thro' weary winter's wind and rain,
With joy, with rapture, I would toil;
And nightly to my bosom strain,
And nightly to my bosom strain,
The bonnie lass 0' Ballochmyle.

Chorus;
The bonnie lass 0' Ballochmyle
The bonnie lass!
The bonnie, bonnie lass!
The bonnie lass 0' Ballochmyle.

(Bonnie Lass 0' Ballochmyle)
Ballochmyle stands on the banks of the River Ayr and the song was written by Robert Burns to a lady he admired in 1786. His feelings were not reciprocated but are immortalised in these words.

Bonnie Strathyre

There's meadows in Lanark and mountains in Skye,
And pastures in Hielands and Lowlands forbye;
But there's nae greater luck that the heart could desire
Than to herd the fine cattle in bonnie Strathyre.

0' it's up in the morn and awa' to the hill,
When the lang simmer days are sae warm and sae still,
Till the peak 0' Ben Voirlich is girdled wi' fire,
And the evenin' fa's gently on bonnie Strathyre.

Then there's mirth in the sheiling and love in my breast,
When the sun is gane doun and the kye are at rest;
For there's mony a prince wad be proud to aspire
To my winsome wee Maggie, the pride 0' Strathyre.

Her lips are like rowans in ripe simmer seen,
And mild as the starlicht the glint 0' her e'en;
Far sweeter her breath than the scent 0' the briar,
And her voice is sweet music in bonnie Strathyre.

Set Flora by Colin, and Maggie by me,
And we'll dance to the pipes swellin' loudly and free,
Till the moon in the heavens climbing higher and higher
Bids us sleep on fresh brackens in bonnie Strathyre.

Though some in the touns 0' the Lowlands seek fame,
And some will gang sodgerin' far from their hame;
Yet I'll aye herd my cattle, and bigg my ain byre,
And love my ain Maggie in bonnie Strathyre.

(Bonnie Strathyre)
Strathyre is Set between Callander and Lochearnhead in Perthshire. The valley is overshadowed by Ben Vorlich (3,224 ft)

Bonnie Wee Thing

Bonnie wee thing, cannie wee thing,
Lovely wee thing wer't thou mine,
I would wear thee in my bosom,
Lest my jewel I should tine.

Wistfully, I look and languish,
In that bonnie face of thine.
And my heart it stounds wi' anguish
Lest my wee thing be na mine.

Bonnie wee thing, cannie wee thing,
Lovely wee thing wer't thou mine.
I would wear thee in my bosom
Lest my jewel I should tine.

Wit and grace and love and beauty
In a constellation shine,
To adore thee is my duty Goddess
0' this soul 0' mine.

Wistfully I look and languish
In that bonnie face of thine.
And my heart it stounds wi' anguish
Lest my wee thing be na mine.

Bonnie wee thing,
cannie wee thing,
Lovely wee thing,
wer't thou mine.
I would wear thee in my bosom
Lest my jewel I should tine.

(Bonnie Wee Thing)
Written by Robert Burns in praise of 'my little idol, the charming lovely Davies. Disappointed in love, she died of a broken heart.

Granny's Hielan ' Hame

Chorus:
Where the heather bells are blooming just outside Granny's door,
Where as laddies there we played in the days of long ago.
Neath the shadow of Ben Bhragie and Golspie's loudly stane,
How I wished that I could see my Granny's Hielan' hame.

Away in the Hielands
There stands a wee hoose,
And it stands on the breast of the brae.
Where we played as laddies
Sae long long ago,
And it seems it was just yesterday.

Chorus: Where the heather bells etc.

I can still see old Granny,
A smile on her face,
As sweet as the heather dew,
When she kissed me good-bye
Wi' a tear in her eye,
And said, 'Laddie may God bless you'.

Chorus: Where the heather bells etc.

(Granny's Hieian' Hame)
The thatched cottage was the hub of the Scottish crofter's life. Still to be seen scattered about. but little , more than a museum piece today.

Caledonia

I don't know if you can see
The changes that have come over me
In these last few days I've been afraid
That I might drift away
So I've been telling old stories, singing songs
That make me think about where I came from
And that's the reason why I seem
So far away today

Oh, but let me tell you that I love you
That I think about you all the time
Caledonia you're calling me
And now I'm going home
If I should become a stranger
You know that it would make me more than sad
Caledonia's been everything
I've ever had

Now I have moved and I've kept on moving
Proved the points that I needed proving
Lost the friends that I needed losing
Found others on the way
I have kissed the ladies and left them crying
Stolen dreams, yes there's no denying
I have traveled hard with coattails flying
Somewhere in the wind

(Chorus)
Now I'm sitting here before the fire
The empty room, the forest choir
The flames that could not get any higher
They've withered now they've gone
But I'm steady thinking my way is clear
And I know what I will do tomorrow
When the hands are shaken and the kisses flow
Then I will disappear

Song by Dougie Maclean
Copyright 1982 Plant Life Music Ltd.

These are my Mountains

For fame and for fortune I wandered the earth
And now I've come back to the land of my birth
I've brought back my treasures but only to find
They're less than the pleasures I first left behind

For these are my mountains and this is my glen
The braes of my childhood will know me again
No land's ever claimed me tho' far I did roam
For these are my mountains and I'm going home
(last) and I have come home

The burn by the road sings at my going by
The whaup averhead wings with welcoming cry
The loch where the scart flies at last I can see
It's here that my heart lies it's here I'll be free

Kind faces will meet me and welcome me in
And how they will greet me my ain kith and kin
The night round the ingle old sangs will be sung
At last I'll be hearing my ain mother tongue.

Bonnie Lass Of Fyfie

There once was a troop of Irish dragoons
Come marching down thru Fyfie, O
And the captain feel in love with a very bonnie lass
And the name she was called was pretty Peggy-o

There's many a bonnie lass in the glen of Auchterlass
There's many a bonnie lass in Gairioch-o
There's many a bonnie Jean in the streets of Aberdeen
But the flower of them all lives in Fyvie, O

O come down the stairs, Pretty Peggy, my dear
Come down the stairs, Pretty Peggy-o
Come down the stairs, comb back your yellow hair
Bid a long farewell to your mammy-o

It's braw, aye it's braw, a captain's lady for to be
And it's braw to be a captain's lady-o
It's braw to ride around and to follow the camp
And to ride when your captain he is ready-o

O I'll give you ribbons, love, and I'll give you rings
I'll give you a necklace of amber-o
I'll give you a silken petticoat with flounces to the knee
If you'll convey me doon to your chamber-o

What would your mother think if she heard the guineas clink
And saw the haut-boys marching all before you o
O little would she think gin she heard the guineas clink
If I followed a soldier laddie-o

I never did intend a soldier's lady for to be
A soldier shall never enjoy me-o
I never did intend to gae tae a foreign land
And I will never marry a soldier-o

I'll drink nae more o your claret wine
I'll drink nae more o your glasses-o
Tomorrow is the day when we maun ride away
So farewell tae your Fyvie lasses-o

The colonel he cried, mount, boys, mount,boys, mount
The captain, he cried, tarry-o
O tarry yet a while, just another day or twa
Til I see if the bonnie lass will marry-o

Twas in the early morning, when we marched awa
And O but the captain he was sorry-o
The drums they did beat a merry brasselgeicht
And the band played the bonnie lass of Fyvie, O

Long ere we came to the glen of Auchterlass
We had our captain to carry-o
And long ere we won into the streets of Aberdeen
We had our captain to bury-o

Green grow the birks on bonnie Ethanside
And low lie the lowlands of Fyvie, O
The captain's name was Ned and he died for a maid
He died for the bonny lass of Fyvie, O

Ye Jacobites By Name

Ye Jacobites by name, lend an ear, give an ear!
Ye Jacobites by name, lend an ear,
Ye Jacobites by name,
Your fautes I will proclaim,
Your doctrines I maun blame - you shall hear!

What is Right, and what is wrang, by the law, by the law?
What is Right, and what is Wrang, by the law?
What is Right, and what is Wrang?
A short sword and a lang,
A weak arm and a strang, for to draw!

What makes heroic strife, famed afar, famed afar?
What makes heroic strife famed afar?
What makes heroic strife ?
To whet th' assassin's knife,
Or hunt a Parent's life, wi bluidy war!
Then let your schemes alone, in the State, in the State!
Then let your schemes alone, in the State!
Then let your schemes alone,
Adore the rising sun,
And leave a man undone, to his fate!

Auld Lang Syne

Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And never brought to mind?
Should auld acquaintance be forgot
And 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 stowp!
And surely I'll be mine!
And we'll tak a cup o' kindness yet,
For auld lang syne.

Chorus:
For auld lang syne, etc.

We twa hae mn about the braes
And pou'd the gowans fine;
But we've wander'd mony a weary foot
Sin' auld lang syne.

Chorus:
For auld lang syne, etc. -

We two hae paidled i' the burn,
Frae morning sun till dine;
But seas between us braid hae roar'd
Sin' auld lang syne.

Chorus:
For auld lang syne, etc.

And here's a hand, my trusty fiere,
And gie's a hand o' thine;
And we'll tak' a right gude-willy waught,
For auld lang syne.

Chorus:
For auld lang syne, etc.

Auld Lang Syne
Described by Burns as 'a song of olden times, He wrote only two of the verses. The others are original, passed down from singing parent to listening child. Music was vital to Burns in capturing old songs and he taught himself to play the fiddle to enable him to pick out and record the tunes, which he did by noting down his fingering on paper. The handclasp in the last verse is the emblem of brotherhood amongst men.

What other song commands such universal homage worldwide? What gathering would be considered properly wound up without the rendering ofAuld Lang Syne as a finale? And who, with Scottish blood in their veins, would welcome in a New Year without it?

Scottish Soldier

There was a soldier, a Scottish soldier
who wandered far away and soldiered far away
there was none bolder, with good broad shoulders,
he fought in many a fray and fought and won
He's seen the glory, he's told the story
of battles glorious and deeds victorious
But now he's sighing his heart is crying
to leave these green hills of Tyroll

chorus:
Because these green hills are not highland hills
or the Islands hills their not my lands hills,
as 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, on that dark land
He called his piper, his trusty piper
and bade him sound away, a pibroch sad to play
upon a hillside but Scottish hillside
not on these green hills of Tyrol

chorus
Because these green....... etc

And now this soldier this Scottish soldier
who wanders far no more, and soldiers far no more
now on a hillside, a Scottish hillside
you'll see a piper play this soldier home
he's seen the glory, he's told the story
of battles glorious and deeds victorious
but he will cease now, he is at peace now
far from these green hills of Tyroll

chorus
Because these green....... etc

repeat chorus..

For A' That

Is there, for honest poverty
That hangs his head, and a' that
The coward-slave, we pass him by-
We dare be poor for a' that,
for a' that, and a' that
Our toils obscure , and a' that,
The rank is but the the guinea's stamp-
The man's the gowd for a' that.

What though on hamely fare we dine-
Wear hoddin grey, and a' that?
Gie fools their skills, and knaves their wine-
A man's a man for a' that
For a' that and a' that
Their tinsel show and a' that;
The honest man, though e'er sae poor,
Is king o' men for a' that.

Ye see yon birkie ca'd a lord,
Wha struts and stares for a' that;
Though hundreds worship at his word,
He's but a coof for a' that:
For a' that and a' that,
His ribband, star and a' that;
The man of independendant mind,
He looks and laughs at a' that.

A Prince can mak' a belted Knight,
A marquis, duke and a' that;
But an honest man's aboon his might,
Gude faith he mauna fa' that!
For a' that and a' that,
Their dignities and a' that;
The pith o' sense and pride o' worth,
Are higher rank than a' that.

Then let us pray that come it may,
as come it will for a' that,
That sense and worth, oe'r a' the earth,
May bear the gree and a' that:
For a' that and a' that,
it's coming yet for a' that
That man to man the warls o'er,
Shall brothers be for a' that!

Robert Burns was not a revolutionary in the true sense of the word, but he might seen as such by the society he ridicules in this satirical, written in 1795 shortly before he died.

The 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,
Thunderclaps rend the air,
Baffled, our foes stand by the shore,
Follow they will not dare.

Chorus: Speed bonnie boat like a bird etc.

Though the waves leap,
soft shall ye sleep,
Ocean's a royal bed.
Rock'd in the deep,
Flora will keep watch o'er your weary head.

Chorus: Speed bonnie boat like a bird etc.

Burned are our homes,
exile and death,
Scattered the loyal man.
Yet ere the sword,
cool in the sheath,
Charlie will come again.

Chorus: Speed bonnie boat like a bird etc.

(The Skye Boat Song)
Commemorating his escape from these shores when Flora Macdonald took Bonnie Prince Charlie, disguised as a serving. maid, from Uist to Skye in a small boat. Flora is buried at Kilmuir on Skye. Prince Charlie near Rome where he was born.

Roamin In The Gloamin

I've seen lots of bonnie lassies travellin' far and wide,
But my heart is centred noo on bonnie Kate McBride;
And altho' I'm no a chap that throws a word away,
I'm surprised mysel' at times at a' I've got to say--

cho: Roamin' in the gloamin' on the bonnie banks o' Clyde,
Roamin' in the gloamin' wi' ma lassie by ma side,
When the sun has gone to rest, that's the time that I like best,
O, it's lovely roamin' in the gloamin'!

One nicht in the gloamin' we were trippin' side by side.
I kissed her twice, and asked her once if she would be my bride;
She was shy, and so was I, we were baith the same,
But I got brave and braver on the journey comin' hame.
Roamin', etc.

Last nicht efter strollin' we got hame at half-past nine.
Sittin' at the kitchen fire I asked her to be mine.
When she promised I got up and danced the Hielan' Fling;
I've just been to the jewellers and I've picked a nice wee ring.
Roamin', etc.

The Dark Isle

As mists of the evening creep over the hill
And the sea round about her is silent and still
Forbidden dark island so dreary and cold
What mysterious tales can your black rocks unfold
While fishermen row past your dark ocean shore
And old wives are spinning and praying once more
No falsehood to dread no malice you hold
You are sworn to your secrets of stories untold

The old men will tell not a bird or a nest
At times not a seabird will stop there to rest
But you lie there in mist and cold watery waves
No harm is yet spoken no evil you show
T'is sacred you stand to folks long ago
No curses come from you or to you are shown
Just a lonely dark island a mysterious throne

But tho' they've not seen they'll tell what they know
Of kings and of princes who died long ago
Who rest in your coves and still to this day
They are seen in your shadows and thru the sea spray
So toast to yon mountains and summits of blue
And here's to the glens and the meadows of dew
It's not of these hills or valleys I dream
But the lonely dark island the home of the kings.

Fields O Bannockburn

Twas on a bonnie simmer's day,
me English came in grand array
King Edward's orders to obey ,
Upon the Field of Bannockburn.

chorus: Sae loudly let the Pibroch wake
Each loyal Clan frae hill and lake ,
And boldly fight for Scotia's sake
Upon the Field of Bannockburn.

King Edward raised his standard high,
Bruce shook his banners in reply -
Each army shouts for victory
Upon the Field of Bannockburn.

The English horse wi' deadly aim
Upon the Scottish army came;
But hundrteds in our pits were slain
Upon the Field of Bannockburn.

Loud rose the war cry of McNeil,
Who flew like tigers to the field
And made the Sass'nach army feel
There were dauntless hearts at Bannockburn.

McDonald's clan, how firm their pace-
Dark vengeance gleams in ev'ry face,
Lang had they thirsted to embrace
Their Sass'nach friends at Bannockburn.

The Fraser bold his brave clan led,
While wide their thistle banners spread-
They boldly fell and boldly bled
Upon the Field of Bannockburn.

The ne'er behind brave Douglas came,
And also with him Donald Graham,
Their blood-red painted swords did stain
The glorious Field of Bannockburn.

That day King Edward's heart did mourn,
With joy each Scottish heart did burn,
In mem'ry now let us return
Our thanks to Bruce at Bannockburn.

Mary of Argyll

I have heard the mavis singing,
His love song to the morn,
I have seen the dew drop clinging,
To the rose just newly born.

But a sweeter song has cheer'd me,
At the ev'ning's gentle close,
And I've seen an eye still brighter,
Than the dew drop on the rose.

'Twas thy voice, my gentle Mary,
And thine artless winning smile,
That made this world an Eden,
Bonnie Mary of Argyll.

Tho' thy voice may lose its sweetness,
And thine eye its brightness too,
Tho' thy step may lack its fleetness,
And thy hair its sunny hue.

Still to me wilt thou be dearer,
Than all the world shall own,
I have loved thee for thy beauty,
But not for that alone.

I have watched thy heart, dear Mary,
And its goodness was the wile,
That has made thee mine for ever,
Bonnie Mary of Argyll.

(Mary of Argyil)
Written by two Englishmen, this song is as Scottish as any. The 'Mary' is 'Highland Mary', beloved of Robert Burns. She died whilst still young.

Lochnagar

Away, ye gay landscapes, ye gardens of roses,
In you let the minions of luxury rove,
Restore me the rocks where the snow-flake reposes,
Though still they are sacred to freedom and love.

Yet Caledonia, belov'd are thy mountains,
Round their white summits the elements war
Though cataracts foam 'stead of smooth-flowing fountains,
I sigh for the valley of dark Lochnagar.

Ah! there my young footsteps in infancy wander'd,
My cap was the bonnet, my cloak was my plaid.
On chieftains long perish'd my memory ponder'd
As daily I strode thro' the pine cover'd glade.

I sought not my home till the day's dying glory
Gave place to the rays of the bright Polar star.
For fancy was cheer'd by traditional story,
Disclos'd by the natives of dark Lochnagar!

Years have roll'd on, Lochnagar, since I left you!
Years must elapse ere I tread you again.
Though nature of verdure and flow'rs has bereft you,
Yet still are you dearer than Albion's plain.

England, thy beauties are tame and domestic
To one who has roamed over mountains afar
Oh! for the crags that are wild and majestic,
The steep frowning glories of dark Lochnagar.

(Lochnagar)
The song originated in a poem by Lord Byron in 1807. Part of Byron 's early life was spent near Loch na Garr, a Cairngorm rnountain of 3,777ft.

The Road to the Isles

A far croonin' is pullin' me away
As take I wi' my cromak to the road.
The far Coolins are puttin' love on me
As step I wi' the sunlight for my load.

Chorus:
Sure, by Tummel and Loch Rannoch and Lochaber I will go.
By heather tracks wi' heaven in their wiles;
If it's thinkin' in your inner heart braggart's in my step,
You've never smelt the tangle 0' the Isles.

Oh, the far Coolins are puttin' love on me.
As step I wi' my cromak to the lsles.
It's by Sheil water and track is to the west.
By Aillort and by Morar to the sea,
The cool cresses I am thinkin' 0' for pluck,
And bracken for a wink on Mother knee.

Chorus: Sure, by Tummel etc.

It's the blue Islands are pullin' me away,
Their laughter puts the leap upon the lame,
The blue Islands from the Skerries to the Lews,
Wi' heather honey taste upon each name.

Chorus.- Sure, by Tummel etc.

(The Road to the Isles)

This marching song is a favourite wherever it is sung but especially on the road through the West Highlands on the way to the Western isles.

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