AULD SANGS ABOOT AN ROON ABOOT BRAEMAR
BONNIE GLEN SHEE
Oh, do you see yon high
All covered wi' snow?
They hae parted many a true love
And they'll soon part us twa.
Busk, busk, bonnie lassie
And come alang wi' me,
An' I'll tak' ye tae Glenisla,
Near bonnie Glen Shee.
Oh, do you see yon
As they walk along,
Wi' their plaidies pu'd aboot them,
And their sheep they graze on?
Oh, do you see yon soldiers
As they all march along,
Wi' their guns on their shoulders
And their broadswords hanging down?
THE BARON OF BRACKLEY
Doon Deeside cam
Inverey whistlin and playin
And he was at Brackley's yetts ere the day wis dawnin
Saying, Baron O'Brackley oh are ye within?
There's sharp swords are at yer yetts, will gar your bluid spin
Oh rise up my baron
an and turn back yer kye
For the lads frae Drumwharren are drivin them by
Oh how can I rise up and how can I gyang?
For each man that I ha'e ah'm sure he has ten
Gin I had a husband,
like I have nane
He'd no lie in his bed and watch his kye ta'en
Then up spake the baron, said gi'e me my sword
There's nae a man in Scotland but I'll brave at a word
When the baron wis
buskit to ride o'er the course
A gallanter Gordon ne'er mounted a horse
Saying, kiss me, my Peggy, dinna think me tae blame
For I maun go oot, love, and I'll never come hame
There rode wi' false
Inverey full thirty and three
But along wi' bonny Brackley just his brother and he
Twa gallanter Gordons did ne'er the sword draw
But against three and thirty, wae's me, what is twa?
Wi' swords and wi'
daggers they did him surround
And they pierced bonny Brackley wi' monys a wound
Tae the banks o the Dee, tae the sides of the Spey
Oh the Gordons will mourn him and will ban Inverey
Oh came ye from
Brackley's yetts, oh came ye by there?
And saw ye his Peggy a-rivin' her hair
Aye, I came by Brackley's yetts, I came by there
And I saw his bonny Peggy she was makin' good cheer
She was rantin', she
was dancin', she was singin' wi' joy
And she swears ilka nicht she will feast Inverey
And she laughed wi' him danced wi' him, welcomed him ben
And lay wi' him till morning he who slew her good man
There's grief in the
kitchen, there's mirth in the hall
For the Baron o Brackley lies dead and awa'
But oot spake his young son on his nurse's knee
Gin I grow to be a man 'tis revenged I'll be
THE STANDARD ON THE BRAES O MAR
The standard on the braes o' Mar
Is up and streaming rarely,
The gath'ring pipe on Lochnagar
Is sounding loud and sairly,
The Hieland men, frae hill and glen,
Wi' belted plaids and glitterin blades,
Wi' bonnets blue, and hearts sae true,
Are comin' late and early
Our prince has made a noble vow,
To free his country fairly,
Then wha would be a traitor now,
To ane we lo'e sae dearly,
We'll go, we'll go and seek the foe,
By land or sea, wheree'er they be,
Then man to man, and in the van,
We'll win or die for Charlie
I saw our chief come o'er the hill,
Wi' Drummond and Glengarry,
And through the pass came brave Lochiel,
Panmure and gallant Murray.
Macdonald's men, Clanronald's men,
McKenzie's men, McGilvray's men,
Strathallan's men, the lowland men,
O' Callander and Airley.
"Oh! whar awa’ got ye that auld crookit
For ane o’ bricht gowd wad ye niffer wi’ me?
Richt fu’ are baith ends o’ my green silken wallet,
An’ braw will yer hame be in bonnie Glen Shee."
"It’s oh! that I saw the dear laddie that had it,
Wha when we were bairnies twa, gied it to me;
For a’ the bricht gowd in yer green silken wallet,
I never wad niffer my crookit bawbee."
"Oh! whar awa’ got ye that auld worsted plaidie?
A mantle o’ satin were fitter for thee;
I wad cleed ye wi’ satin, an’ mak’ ye a lady,
Gin ye will gang wi’ me to bonnie Glen Shee."
"Ye may cleed me wi’ satin an’ mak’ me a lady
An tak’ me aft wi’ ye to bonnie Glen Shee;
But the heart that beats true ‘neath this auld worsted plaidie
Was gi’en him lang syne for this crookit bawbee."
"Ye ken na’ the laddie that gied ye the penny,
Ye ken na’ the laddie wha’s true been to thee;
But I ken the lassie that wears the auld plaidie,
The lassie that keepit my crookit bawbee."
"An’ ye are the laddie that gave me the penny,
The laddie I'll lo’e till the day that I dee;
Ye may cleed me wi’ satin, an’ mak’ me a lady,
An’ I will gang wi’ ye to bonnie Glen Shee."
THE LASS OF GLENSHEE
One bright summer morning as day was a
Bright Phoebus had risen shone over the lea
I spied a fair maiden all down by the river
While herding her flocks on the hills of Glenshee
I stood in amazement, said I, "Pretty fair maid
If you will come down to James Town with me
There's ne'er been a lady set foot in my castle
There's ne'er been a lady dressed grander than thee"
"A coach and six horses to go at your bidding
And all men that speak shall say "ma'am unto thee"
Fine servants to serve you and go at your bidding
I'll make you my bride, my sweet lass of Glenshee"
"Oh what do I care for your castles and coaches?
And what do I care for your gay grandeury?
I'd rather be home at my cot, at my spinning
Or herding my flocks on the hills of Glenshee"
"Away with such nonsense and get up beside me
When summer has come my sweet bride you will be
And then in my arms I will gently caress thee"
'Twas then she consented, I took her with me
Many years have rolled on since we were united
There's many's a change, but there's no change on me
And my love, she's as fair as that morn on the mountain
I plucked me a wild rose