Lines On The North Of Scotland
Lines on the North of Scotland, delivered in Embro nearly a
quarter of a century ago:
Scotsmen have wandered far and wide,
From Moray Frith to Frith of Clyde;
McDonald, from his sea girt isle,
And Campbell from his broad Argyle-
But chiefly here you have come forth
From those countries of the north;
Some oft have trod Dunrobins's Halls,
And gazed upon its stately walls.
Here to-night in this array
Is Murray, McKenzie and McKay;
And there doth around us stand
The Munroe, Ross and Sutherland.
Your young men have high honour earned;
In all of the professions learned;
Your Bonnie Lasses sung in song,
And youths are famed for muscle strong.
poem by James McIntyre
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Related quotes
Lines on Embro and Zorra
O'er various counties of the north,
When cruel order did go forth
For to destroy many a home
So that the wild deer free might roam,
The men of Sutherland and Ross
The broad Atlantic they did cross.
Each seeking for a fertile farm,
These rolling lands for them had charm.
They ne'er desired again to roam,
Each happy in his woodland home ;
Where middle branch of Thames doth flow
They built the village of Embro,
And it the hill tops now doth crown
Like its grand namesake, Edina town.
And good flour mills you here do find,
And oats, also, they here do grind.
poem by James McIntyre
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The Shires on the Moray Frith
Worthy of either song or story
Are the Shires found Frith of Moray.
Here lies the valley of Strathspey,
Famed for its music-lively, gay.
Elgin cathedral's 'prentice aisle
Is glory of that ruined pile.
What modern chisel now could trace
Fine scuplture of that ancient place?
And Forres, famed for Sweyn's stane,
In honor of that kingly Dane.
'Graved with warriors' runes and rhyme
Long prior to historic times.
For a thousand years it's been forgot
Who was victor-Dane or Scot.
It is the country of Macbeth,
Where good King Duncan met his death,
And Barren Heath-that place of fear-
Stood witches' cauldron of Shakespeare.
Nairn's Cawdor Castle strong remains-
Full worthy of the ancient Thanes.
And nestled 'neath the hills and bens,
Queen of the moors, the loch's and glens,
Full proudly stands, in vale of bliss,
Chief Highland town of Inverness.
Near here the famous Falls of Foyers,
Where Burns and others tuned their lyres.
And the fatal field of dark Culloden,
Where doughty clans wore once down trodden
Here men yet wear the tartan-plaid,
Ready to join the Highland Brigade.
And when the Frith you look across.
The eye beholds Sutherland and Ross,
Where Duke hath harnessed mighty team,
Plows hills, and rocks, and moors by steam;,
Perhaps it may in part atone
For cruel clearings days by-gone.
And Cromarty, whose wondrous mason
First learned his geologic lesson ;
Friends may rear a stately pillar ..
The ' Old Red Sandstone ' of Hugh Miller.
Ben Wyvis towers, like monarch crowned,
Conspicious o'er the hills around,
With crest e'er white with driven snow ;
Strathpeffer's water-cure below.
poem by James McIntyre
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Medern Day Bonnie And Clyde
Well it's a long way to Richmond
Rollin' north on 95
With a redhead ridin' shotgun
And a pistol by my side
Tearin' down that highway
Like a modern day Bonnie and Clyde
We met at a truckstop
Johnson City, Tennessee
I was gassin' up my Firebird
When I heard her callin' me...mmm hmm
Said, 'Which way are you headed, boy
Do you need some company'
She had me stoppin' at a quick mart
Before we made it out of town
Next thing she was runnin' at me
Tellin' me to lay that hammer down
'Cause there's a man right behind me
Doin' his best to slow me down
Yeah and it's a long way to Richmond
Rollin' north on 95
With a redhead ridin' shotgun
And a pistol by my side
Tearin' down that highway
Like a modern day Bonnie and Clyde
Woo...
Well we pulled up to a motel
In the middle of the night
We were countin' all the money
Smokin' stolen Marlboro lights
Lord we never saw 'em comin'
'Til they read us both our rights
Yeah and it's a long way to Richmond
Rollin' north on 95
With a sheriff right beside me
Pistol pointed at my side
Oh, Lord...such a disappointing ending
For this modern day Bonnie and Clyde
Yeah...
Whoa
Well...
Woo...hoo
song performed by by Travis Tritt
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lorne and Louise
Lines written on the arrival of Governor Lorne and the Princess Louise in Canada.
The tidings now all hearts do please
That she has landed safe-Louise,
Victoria's beloved daughter
Who boldly has crossed the water.
For Royal Princess doth adorn
The title of the Lord of Lorne,
For this union it doth join
Campbell with Royal Stuart line.
Lorne will be Duke of broad Argyle
And the lord of many an isle.
When he inherits broad domain
May he strive tennants' hearts to gain.
To us it seems a brighter morn
Hath dawned on us with Governor Lorne.
poem by James McIntyre
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Modern Day Bonnie & Clyde
Chorus:
Well, it's a long way to Richmond
Rolling north on 95,
with a redhead riding shotgun
and a pistol by my side.
Tearing down that highway
like a modern day Bonnie and Clyde
We met a truck stop
Johnson City, Tennesee
I was gassin' up my Firebird
when I heard her callin' me
Said "Which way are you headed boy?
Do you need some company?"
She had me stoppin at a quick mart
before we made it out of town
Next thing she was running at me
Telling me to lay that hammer down
"Cause there's a man right behind me
doing his best to slow me down."
Chorus
We pulled up to a motel
in the middle of the night
we were countin' all the money
smoking stolen Marlboro lights
Lord we never saw 'em comin'
'til they read us both our rights
And it's a long way to Richmond,
Rollin' north on 95
With a sheriff right beside me
pistol pointing at my side
such a disappointing ending
for this modern day Bonnie and Clyde
song performed by by Travis Tritt
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Scottish Names in Oxford County
We have the Murray and McKay
From the country of Lord Rae ; *
McKenzie too from many a loch,
From Dingwall, Fain, and old Dornoch.
*Lord Rae, chief of the clan McKay. The family formerly owned large estates
in Sutherland, which they lost. The present Lord Rae was born in Holland,
and he married a rich lady with an estate near Edinburgh. He is one of the
foremost scientific men in Britain at the present time, and he frequently presides
at assemblies both in London and Edinburgh for the advancement of education
and science.
poem by James McIntyre
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The Bonnie House O' Airly
It fell on a day, and a bonnie summer day,
When the corn grew green and yellow,
That there fell out a great dispute
Between Argyle and Airly.
The Duke o' Montrose has written to Argyle
To come in the morning early,
An' lead in his men, by the back O' Dunkeld,
To plunder the bonnie house o' Airly.
The lady look'd o'er her window sae hie,
And O but she looked weary!
And there she espied the great Argyle
Come to plunder the bonnie house o' Airly.
'Come down, come down, Lady Margaret,' he says,
'Come down and kiss me fairly,
Or before the morning clear daylight,
I'll no leave a standing stane in Airly.'
'I wadna kiss thee, great Argyle,
I wadna kiss thee fairly,
I wadna kiss thee, great Argyle,
Gin you shouldna leave a standing stane Airly.'
He has ta'en her by the middle sae sma',
Says, 'Lady, where is your drury?'
'It's up and down by the bonnie burn side,
Amang the planting of Airly.'
They sought it up, they sought it down,
They sought it late and early,
And found it in the bonnie balm-tree,
That shines on the bowling-green o' Airly,
He has ta'en her by the left shoulder,
And O but she grat sairly,
And led her down to yon green bank,
Till he plundered the bonnie house o' Airly.
'O it's I hae seven braw sons,' she says,
'And the youngest ne'er saw his daddie,
And altho' I had as mony mae,
I wad gie them a' to Charlie.
'But gin my good lord had been at hame,
As this night he is wi' Charlie,
There durst na a Campbell in a' the west
Hae plundered the bonnie house o' Airly.
poem by Andrew Lang
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Ballad of Bonnie and Clyde
Bonnie and Clyde
went out for a ride
with the Devil for a guide.
In a hot V-8 Ford
they took off with a roar
machine guns by their sides.
Bonnie was neat
and very petite
and Clyde was a handsome guy.
They robbed banks and stores,
and gas stations galore,
thumbing their noses at
a world they decried.
But the law was enraged
and made plans to engage
the infamous duo someday.
And on May twenty-third
they found a way
to put an end to Bonnie and Clyde.
It was as lovers they died
sitting side by side
in a bullet-riddled Ford.
And so then it came true as Bonnie well knew
that both of them surely would die,
for that's what she wrote,
expressing no hope, in the
Ballad of Bonnie and Clyde.
poem by Kendall Thomas
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For Scotland
Beyond the Cheviots and the Tweed,
Beyond the Firth of Forth,
My memory returns at speed
To Scotland and the North.
For still I keep, and ever shall,
A warm place in my heart for Scotland,
Scotland, Scotland,
A warm place in my heart for Scotland.
Oh, cruel off St. Andrew's Bay
The winds are wont to blow!
They either rest or gently play,
When there in dreams I go.
And there I wander, young again,
With limbs that do not tire,
Along the coast to Kittock's Den,
With whinbloom all afire.
I climb the Spindle Rock, and lie
And take my doubtful ease,
Between the ocean and the sky,
Derided by the breeze.
Where coloured mushrooms thickly grow,
Like flowers of brittle stalk,
To haunted Magus Muir I go,
By Lady Catherine's Walk.
In dreams the year I linger through,
In that familiar town,
Where all the youth I ever knew,
Burned up and flickered down.
There's not a rock that fronts the sea,
There's not an inland grove,
But has a tale to tell to me
Of friendship or of love.
And so I keep, and ever shall,
The best place in my heart for Scotland,
Scotland, Scotland,
The best place in my heart for Scotland!
poem by Robert Fuller Murray
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Castlemaine
You've heard the song 'The wild colonial boy'
An oft sung ballad of decades gone by
His name was Jack Doolin from Castlemaine
Where now no trace of his existence remain.
The magpie's song tell Spring not far away
From Castlemaine on this bright August day
A sunny day with scarce a puff of breeze
And new leaves budding on deciduous trees.
In this Town in North West Victoria made famous by a song
The links to the pioneering days still strong
And though their's is Australia's oldest history
No traces of Aboriginal culture here I see.
So few acres ploughed for the growing of crops and grain
In the countryside around old Castlemaine
Few acres for the harvester to reap
This is a cattle country with some sheep.
Famed in a song as Jack Doolin's Hometown
Old Castlemaine of folklore and renown
And strong links to it's pioneering past remain
In the north west country Town of Castlemaine.
poem by Francis Duggan
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It's Grim Up North
It's Grim Up North
by The Justified Ancients of Mu Mu
Transcribed by Drew Radtke
Bolton,
Barnsley,
Nelson,
Colne,
Burnley
Bradford,
Buxton,
Crewe,
Warrington,
Widnes,
Wigan,
Leeds,
Northwich,
Nantwich,
Knutsford,
Hull,
Sale,
Salford,
Southport,
Leigh,
Derby,
Kearsley
Keighley
Maghull,
Harrogate,
Huddersfield,
Oldham, Lancs,
Grimsby,
Glossop,
Hebden Bridge,
It's Grim Up North,
It's Grim Up North.
Brighouse,
Bootle,
Featherstone,
Speke,
Runcorn,
Rotherham,
Rochdale,
Barrow,
Morecambe,
Macclesfield,
Lytham St. Annes
Clitheroe,
Cleethorpes,
The M62,
It's Grim Up North,
It's Grim Up North.
Pendlebury,
Prestwich,
Preston,
York,
Skipton,
Scunthorpe,
Scarborough-on-Sea,
Chester,
Chorley,
Cheedle Hulme,
Ormskirk,
Accrington Stanley,
and Leigh,
Ossett,
Otley,
Ikley Moor,
Sheffield,
Manchester,
Castleford,
Skem,
Doncaster,
Dewsbury,
Hali-fax,
Bingley,
Bramall,
Are all in the North.
It's Grim Up North,
It's Grim Up North,
It's Grim Up North,
It's Grim Up North.
It's Grim Up North,
It's Grim Up North,
It's Grim Up North,
It's Grim Up North,
It's Grim Up North,
It's Grim Up North,
It's Grim Up North,
It's Grim Up North,
It's Grim Up North,
It's Grim Up North,
It's Grim Up North,
It's Grim Up North,
It's Grim Up North,
It's Grim Up North,
It's Grim Up North,
It's Grim Up North,
It's Grim Up North,
It's Grim Up North,
It's Grim Up North,
It's Grim Up North,
It's Grim Up North
song performed by by KLF
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The riders of the plains
Who is it lacks the knowledge? Who are the curs that dare
To whine and sneer that they do not fear the whelps in the Lion's lair?
But we of the North will answer, while life in the North remains,
Let the curs beware lest the whelps they dare are the Riders of the Plains;
For these are the kind whose muscle makes the power of the Lion's jaw,
And they keep the peace of our people and the honour of British law.
A woman has painted a picture,--'tis a neat little bit of art
The critics aver, and it roused up for her the love of the big British heart.
'Tis a sketch of an English bulldog that tigers would scarce attack,
And round and about and beneath him is painted the Union Jack.
With its blaze of colour, and courage, its daring in every fold,
And underneath is the title, "What we have we'll hold."
'Tis a picture plain as a mirror, but the reflex it contains
Is the counterpart of the life and heart of the Riders of the Plains;
For like to that flag and that motto, and the power of that bulldog's jaw,
They keep the peace of our people and the honour of British law.
These are the fearless fighters, whose life in the open lies,
Who never fail on the prairie trail 'neath the Territorial skies,
Who have laughed in the face of the bullets and the edge of the rebels' steel,
Who have set their ban on the lawless man with his crime beneath their heel;
These are the men who battle the blizzards, the suns, the rains,
These are the famed that the North has named the "Riders of the Plains,"
And theirs is the might and the meaning and the strength of the bulldog's jaw,
While they keep the peace of the people and the honour of British law.
These are the men of action, who need not the world's renown,
For their valour is known to England's throne as a gem in the British crown;
These are the men who face the front, whose courage the world may scan,
The men who are feared by the felon, but are loved by the honest man;
These are the marrow, the pith, the cream, the best that the blood contains,
Who have cast their days in the valiant ways of the Riders of the Plains;
And theirs is the kind whose muscle makes the power of old England's jaw,
And they keep the peace of her people and the honour of British law.
Then down with the cur that questions,--let him slink to his craven den,--
For he daren't deny our hot reply as to "who are our mounted men."
He shall honour them east and westward, he shall honour them south and north,
He shall bare his head to that coat of red wherever that red rides forth.
'Tis well that he knows the fibre that the great North-West contains,
The North-West pride in her men that ride on the Territorial plains,--
For of such as these are the muscles and the teeth in the Lion's jaw,
And they keep the peace of our people and the honour of British law.
poem by Emily Pauline Johnson
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Grace Of Clydeside
AH, little Grace of the golden locks,
The hills rise fair on the shores of Clyde.
As the merry waves wear out these rocks
She wears my heart out, glides past and mocks:
But heaven's gate ever stands open wide.
The boat goes softly along, along,
Like a river of life glows the amber Clyde;
Her voice floats near me like angel's song,--
Ah, sweet love-death, but thy pangs are strong!
Though heaven's gate ever stands open wide.
We walk by the shore and the stars shine bright,
But coldly, above the solemn Clyde:
Her arm touches mine--her laugh rings light--
ONE hears my silence: His merciful night
Hides me--Can heaven be open wide?
I ever was but a dreamer, Grace:
As the gray hills watch o'er the sunny Clyde,
Standing afar, each in his place,
I watch your young life's beautiful race,
Apart--until heaven be opened wide.
And sometimes when in the twilight balm
The hills grow purple along the Clyde,
The waves flow softly and very calm,
I hear all nature sing this one psalm,
That 'heaven's gate ever stands open wide.'
So, happy Grace, with your spirit free,
Laugh on! life is sweet on the banks of Clyde;
This is no blame unto thee or me;
Only God saw it could not be,
Therefore His heaven stands open wide.
poem by Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
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African Roses
Bye-bye to the African Roses,
For many years you stood strong as leaders in the name of nations;
But the youths stood up and blew you people away like a candle in the wind.
Oh North African leaders! !
Now the day is over on you people;
For your wings of leadership can no longer fly up high through the wind.
Inclusive and exclusive,
The blues and the jazz of the North African Nations are now dying out,
And the dictators are now seen by all of us in the world.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Donald Ross
A Scottish - Canadian tale.
By the side of moss
Lived young Donald Ross,
Among the heathery hills
And the mountain rills,
In a snug little cot,
Content with his lot,
He never knew sorrow,
With his wife and wee Flora.
But an order went forth,
O'er the land of the north,
To burn many a home
So the wild deer might roam.
With grief he then did toss
All that night, Donald Ross,
And sad seemed the morrow
For his wife and sma' Flora.
Oh ! it was a cruel deed,
But nobles do not heed
The sorrows of the poor.
Drove on a barren moor,
Where he wove a wreath
Of the blooming heath,
For to crown with glory
The brow of little Flory.
He then bade farewell
To his mountain dell,
Where his fathers appears
Had lived a thousand years,
With their few goats and sheep
Which fed on hills so steep.
Oh, it was a sad story
For bonnie little Flora.
He sought a distant strand,
In Canada bought land,
To him a glorious charm
To view his own broad farm,
His horses and his cows,
Cultivators and plows ;
And now his daughter Flora
She is the flower of Zorra.
poem by James McIntyre
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Margaret
(traditional, arrangement by steve rothery, mark kelly, pete trawavas, michael pointer & fish)
For me and my true-love will never walk again on the bonnie, bonnie banks of loch lomond.
Moira anderson, eat your heart out!
You-ou--
Youll take the high road an Ill take the low road, an Ill be in scotland before you
For me and my true-love well never walk again on the bonnie, bonnie banks of loch lomond
Youll take the acid an Ill take the dope, an Ill be stoned before you
For me an my true-love, the drink waters well on the bonnie, bonnie banks of loch lomond
Step we gaily on we go, heel for heel and toe for toe
Arm in arm
An row an row all for mhairis wedding
Step we gaily on we go, heel for heel and toe for toe
Arm in arm an row an row all for mhairis wedding
I said you, you, you, youll take the high road
I said ill, ill, ill, Ill take the low road
On the lead guitar, from yorkshire mr. stephen rothery!
I said you, you, you, you take the high road
I said ill, ill, ill, Ill take the low road
On the bass guitar, the backing vocal, from aylesbury mr. peter trawavas!
I said you, you, you, you take the high road
I said ill, ill, ill, Ill take the low road
On the keyboards, from dublin mr. mark kelly!
I said you, you--, youll take the high road
I said ill, ill--, Ill take the low road
On drums, per-cus-si-on, mr. michael e.t. pointer!
And a very big round of applause, for yourself, one audience tonight
It takes two!
On vocals, and percussion fish! ...
A dream fulfilled!
Sweet ma- ma- ma- ma- margaret
I said you take the high road
An Ill take the low road
An Ill be in scotland before you
For me and my true-love well never meet again
On the bonnie, bonnie banks of loch lomond
Sweet ma- ma- ma- ma- margaret
The balcony: sweet ma- ma- ma- ma margaret
Say yer scottish: sweet ma- ma- ma- ma- margaret
I said youll take the high road
An Ill take the low road
An Ill be in scotland before you
For me and my true-love well never meet again
On the bonnie, bonnie, bonnie, bonnie, bonnie banks of loch lomond!
Banks of loch lomond!
Sweet margaret
Sweet margaret
Sweet ma- ma- ma- ma- margaret!
Thank you edinburgh, good night, we shall de-fi-nite-ly return
song performed by by Marillion
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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North And South Of The River
I want to reach out over the Loch
And feel your hand across the water
Walk with you along an unapproved road
Not looking over my shoulder
I want to see, and I want to hear
To understand your fears
But we're north and south of the river
I've been doing it wrong all of my life
This holy town has turned me over
A young man running from what he didn't understand
The wind from the Loch just get colder, colder
There was a badness that had its way
But love wasn't lost, love will have its day
North and south of the river
North and south of the river
Can we stop playing these old tattoos
Darling I don't have the answer
I want to meet you where you are
I don't need you to surrender
'Cause there's no feeling that's so alone
As when the one you're hurting is your own
North and south of the river
North and south of the river
North and south of the river
Some high ground is not worth taking
Some connections are not worth making
There's an old church bell no longer ringing
Some old songs are not worth bringing
North...
(Higher ground is not worth taking)
North and south of the river
song performed by by U2
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sonnet XXV: O Why Should Nature
O why should Nature niggardly restrain
That foreign nations relish not our tongue?
Else should my lines glide on the waves of Rhene
And crown the Pyrens with my living song.
But, bounded thus, to Scotland get you forth,
Thence take you wing unto the Orcades;
There let my verse get glory in the North,
Making my sighs to thaw the frozen seas;
And let the Bards within that Irish isle,
To whom my Muse with fiery wing shall pass,
Call back the stiff-neck'd rebels from exile,
And mollify the slaught'ring Gallowglass;
And when my flowing numbers they rehearse,
Let wolves and bears be charmed with my verse.
poem by Michael Drayton
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I would not trade you a billion dollars for the kids I led to combat in Vietnam or in fact any of the Marines that I served with for a quarter of a century.
quote by Oliver North
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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You could say that everything the musicians have learned and known over the years, all of their technical resources, are in a dialogue with the things they are discovering every time, as if it was the first time.
quote by Fred Frith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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