‘WHY does your brand sae drop wi’… Edward, Edward? Why does your brand sae drop wi’ b… And why sae sad gang ye, O?’ ‘O I hae kill’d my hawk sae gude,
I want to go home, I want to go home, I don’t want to go in the trenches… Where whizz-bangs and shrapnel the… Take me over the sea
WYNTER wakeneth al my care, Nou this leves waxeth bare; Ofte I sike ant mourne sare When hit cometh in my thoht Of this worldes joie, hou hit g…
HERE lies a poor woman who was a… She lived in a house where help wa… Her last words on earth were: 'De… To where there’s no cooking, or wa… For everything there is exact to m…
ALL under the leaves and the leav… I met with virgins seven, And one of them was Mary mild, Our Lord’s mother of Heaven. ‘O what are you seeking, you seven…
Godfrey Gordon Gustuvus Gore The boy who’d never shut the door His Father would Plead and mother… Godfrey Gordon Please Shut the d…
The falcon soars The town’s gates are even higher Angelica’s their doorkeeper She’s wound the sun round her head She’s tied the moon round her wais…
I have a gentil cock croweth me day he doth me risen early my matins for to stay I have a gentil cock
O waly waly up the bank, And waly waly down the brae, And waly waly yon burn-side Where I and my Love wont to gae! I leant my back unto an aik,
The time when first I fell in lov… Which now I must lament; The year wherein I lost such time To compass my content. The day wherein I saw too late
BYTUENE Mershe ant Averil When spray biginneth to spring, The lutel foul hath hire wyl On hyre lud to synge: Ich libbe in love-longinge
IN a valley of this restles mind I sought in mountain and in mead, Trusting a true love for to find. Upon an hill then took I heed; A voice I heard (and near I yede)
O Death, O Death, rock me asleep… Bring me to quiet rest; Let pass my weary guiltless ghost Out of my careful breast. Toll on, thou passing bell;
HEY nonny no! Men are fools that wish to die! Is ‘t not fine to dance and sing When the bells of death do ring? Is ’t not fine to swim in wine,
YE Highlands and ye Lawlands, O where hae ye been? They hae slain the Earl of Murray… And hae laid him on the green. Now wae be to thee, Huntley!
