Music

O Can Ye sew Cushions

O can ye sew cushions and can ye sew sheets,
And can ye sing ballulow when the bairn greets?
And hie and baw, birdie, and hie and baw, lamb,
And hee and baw, birdie, my bonnie wee lamb.

Hie-o, wie-o what will I do wi' ye?
Black's the life that I lead wi' ye,
Many o'you, little for to gi' ye,
Hie-o, wie-o, what will I do wi' ye?

I've placed my cradle on yon hilly top,
And aye as the wind blew my cradle did rock.
O hush-a-by, babie, O baw lily loo,
And hee adn baw, birdie, my bonnie wee doo,

Hie-o, wie-o what will I do wi' ye?
Black's the life that I lead wi' ye,
Many o'you, little for to gi' ye,
Hie-o, wie-o, what will I do wi' ye?

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Songwriters: Benjamin Britten

O my Love is like a red, red rose

My love is like a red, red rose
That's newly sprung in June
My love is like a melody
So sweetly played in tune

As fair art thou my bonnie lass
So deep in love am I
And I would love thee still my dear
Though all the seas gone dry

Though all the seas gone dry my dear
And the rocks melt with the sun
I would love thee still my dear
Though the sands of time may run

So fare thee well my bonnie lass
And fare thee well awhile
And I would come to you again
Though we were ten thousand miles

Though we were ten thousand miles my dear
Though we were ten thousand miles
I would come to you again
Though we were ten thousand miles

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Songwriters: Robert Burns

O Gin I were

O gin I were where Gadie rins,
Where Gadie rins, where Gadie rins,
O gin I were where Gadie rins
By the foot o' Benachie.

I've roam'd by Tweed, I've roam'd by Tay
By border Nithan' Highland Spey,
But dearer far to me than they
Are the braes o' Benachie.

O gin I were where Gadie rins,
Where Gadie rins, where Gadie rins,
O gin I were where Gadie rins
By the foot o' Benachie.

When blade an' blossoms sprout in spring
An' bid the birdies wag the wing,
They blithly bob an' soar an' sing
By the foot o' Benachie.

O gin I were where Gadie rins,
Where Gadie rins, where Gadie rins,
O gin I were where Gadie rins
By the foot o' Benachie.

When simmer cleads the varied scene
Wilicht o' gowd an' leaves o' green,
I fain wad be where aft I've been
At the foot o' Benachie.

O gin I were where Gadie rins,
Where Gadie rins, where Gadie rins,
O gin I were where Gadie rins
By the foot o' Benachie.

​

John Imlah.

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Mairi's Wedding

Step we gaily on we go, heel for heel toe for toe
Arm in arm and row in row, all for Mairi's wedding

Over hillways up and down, myrtle green and bracken brown
Past the sheiling through the town, all for sake of Mairi

Step we gaily on we go, heel for heel toe for toe
Arm in arm and row in row, all for Mairi's wedding

Red her cheeks as rowans are, brighter eyes than any star
Fairest o' them all by far, is my darling Mairi

Step we gaily on we go, heel for heel toe for toe
Arm in arm and row in row, all for Mairi's wedding

Plenty herring, plenty meal, plenty peat to fill her creel
Plenty bonny bairns as weel, that's the toast for Mairi

Step we gaily on we go, heel for heel toe for toe
Arm in arm and row in row, all for Mairi's wedding

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.

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Songwriter: Robert Burns

Five Eyes

In Hans' old Mill his three black cats
Watch the bins for the thieving rats.
Whisker and claw, they crouch in the night,
Their five eyes smouldering green and bright:
Squeaks from the flour sacks, squeaks from where
The cold wind stirs on the empty stair,
Squeaking and scampering, everywhere.
Then down they pounce, now in, now out,
At whisking tail, and sniffing snout;
While lean old Hans he snores away
Till peep of light at break of day;
Then up he climbs to his creaking mill,
Out come his cats all grey with meal - 
Jekkel, and Jessup, and one-eyed Jill.

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Songwriter: Walter De La Mare