At the Gate

Eilidh
(lyrics by Phil Cunningham; traditional Irish tune)
Many years ago when I was in my prime
I met with bonnie Eilidh ‘round about the harvest time
I courted her so well, she swore she would be mine
And I won my darling Eilidh.

As we were walking along the golden sand
Sweetly she’d turn and she’d take me by the hand
She’d look into my eyes and o it felt so grand
To be with my darling Eilidh.

Down to the glen where the wild eagles fly,
Down to the place where my bonnie Eilidh lies,
I’ll brush away the tears and try not to cry
As I think on my darling Eilidh.

Down to the glen where the trees they grow tall,
There I’ll lie down and await a final call.
For all I want to do is to die after all
And be with my darling Eilidh.

My life is fading with each falling grain of sand,
Soon I will go to a far and distant land
I know that once I’m there I’ll again hold the hand
Of my own dear darling Eilidh.

Sweet grows the heather on the side of the hill,
Where I would go walking with my Eilidh McGill,
I loved her then, and o I love her still,
And I miss you my darling Eilidh.

Love and Freedom
(Mary Brooksbank)
As I come o’er Strathmartin braes what do you think I seen?
But a braw young piper laddie come a linking o’er the green

Singing hey Donald, ho Donald, durum a do a day
Singing hey Donald, ho Donald, durum a do a day

He played a jig then he played a reel then he played a sweet Strathspey
He roused my heart til it beat in time wi’ the tappin’ o my tae.

I have no gold to offer you I have but little gear
But we’ll have love and freedom if you follow me, my dear

There’s gold in the broom of the Sidlow hills, honey in the heather sweet
There’s speckeled trout in the hielan’ tar, velvet carpet ‘neath oor feet.

So he blew up his chanter and sic a spring he played
That I chose love and freedom and I’ll wander all my days.

Norland Wind
O tell me what was on your road, you roarin’ Norland wind,
As ye cam’ blowin’ frae the north that’s never frae my mind.
My feet they’ve traveled England, but I’m deein’ for the north.
“O man, I saw the siller tide run up the Firth of Forth.

Aye wind, I ken them weel eno’ and fine they fa’ an’ rise,
An’ frae the fields o’ creepin’ mist on yonder shore that lies,
But tell me, as ye passed them by, what saw ye on your way?
“O man I roch the rovin’ gulls that sail abin the Tay.”

But saw ye nothin’ leein’ wind afore ye come tae Fife?
There’s muckle lyin’ yon the Tay that’s mair tae me than life.
“Aye man, I swept the Angus braes ye have nae trod for years.”
O wind, whar gae a hameless loon that cannae see for tears?

“And far above the Angus Strath I heard the wild geese flee,
A lang lang skein o’ beatin’ wings wi’ their heads toward the sea,
An’ aye their roarin’ voices trailed ahint them on the air.”
O wind, hae mercy, haud your whisht, for I darnae listen mair.

The Bonny Light Horseman
When Boney commanded his armies to stand,
He leveled his cannon right over the land,
He leveled his cannons his victory to gain
And he slew my light horseman on the way coming hame.

Broken-hearted I'll wander, broken-hearted I'll remain
Since my bonny light horseman, in the wars he was slain.

If I was a small bird and had wings to fly
I would fly across the salt sea to where my love does lie
And with my fond wings I would beat over his grave
And kiss the pale lips that lie cold in the clay.

The dove she laments for her mate as she flies;
"Oh where, tell me where is my darling? " she cries
And where in this world is there one to compare
With my bonny light horseman who was slain in the war?

O Napoleon Bonaparte, I have done you no harm
Why, o tell me why did you cause me this alarm?
We were happy together, my own love and me
Now you have drenched him in blood across the sea.

The Diamond
The Diamond is a ship, my lads, for the Greenland she is bound,
And the quay it is all garnished with bonny lasses 'round;
The Captain gives the order to sail the ocean wide,
Where the sun it never sets, my lads, nor darkness dims the sky,

So it's cheer up my lads, let your hearts never fail,
While the bonny ship, the Diamond, goes a-fishing for the whale.

Along the quay at Peterhead, the lasses stand around,
Wi' their shawls about their heads and salt tears runnin' down;
I’ll never weep, my bonny lad, though I’m left behind,
For there’s not a rose in Greenland's ice will make you change our mind.

chorus

Here's a health to the Resolution, likewise the Eliza Swan,
Here's a health to the Battle of Montrose and the Diamond, ship of fame;
They wear the trousers o' the white and the jackets o' the blue,
When they return to Peterhead they’ll find that we’ve been true

chorus

It'll be bricht both day and nicht when the Greenland lads come hame,
Wi' a ship that's fu' of oil, my lads, and money to our name;
We'll make the cradles for to rock and the blankets for to tear,
And every lass in Peterhead sing "Hushabye, my dear"

chorus

The First Time
(Ewan MacColl)
The first time ever I saw your face
I thought the sun rose in your eyes
And the moon and stars were the gifts you gave
To the dark and the empty skies, my love,
To the dark and the empty skies.

The first time ever I kissed your mouth
And felt your heart beat close to mine
Like the trembling heart of a captive bird
That was there at my command, my love
That was there at my command.

The first time ever I lay with you
I felt the earth move in my hand
I thought our joy would fill the earth
And last 'till the end of time, my love,
And last 'till the end of time.

The Loch Tay Boat Song
When I've done my work of day, and I row my boat away
Down the waters of Loch Tay as the evening light is fading,
Then I look toward Ben Lawers, where the after glory glows
And I think on two bright eyes and the merry mouth below.
She's my beauteous nighean ruadh, she's my joy and sorrow too;
Though I own she is untrue, I cannot live without her.
For my heart's a boat in tow, and I'd give the world to know
Why she means to let me go, as I sing hori horo.

Nighean ruadh, your lovely hair has more beauty I declare
Than all the tresses rare from Killin to Aberfeldy.
Be they lint-white, brown, or gold, be they blacker than the sloe,
They are no more worth to me than a melting flake of snow.
And her eyes are like the gleam of the sunlight on the stream
And the songs the fairies sing, are like songs she sings at milking.
But my heart is full of woe, for last night she bade me go,
And the tears begin to flow, as I sing hori horo.

Repeat first verse

The Rovin Dies Hard
(Brian McNeill)
My name’s John MacKenzie, I’m a master at arms, I carry my sword and my shield on my shoulder
I’ve fought every fight from the Don to the Danube, none braver, none better, none bolder
I’ve stood with Montrose and against him and I’ve battled with Swede and with Dane
I’ve carried the standard of many’s an army through many’s a bloody campaign
But now as I sit in the firelight it seems there’s a distant horizon in the sword buckler’s gleam
Till a pull at the wine brings an old soldier’s dreams from afar.
For the rovin’ dies hard.

I’m Callum MacLean, I’m a trapper by trade and it’s forty long years since I saw Tobermory
Through the hills of Kentucky I’ve carried my plaid and her pine trees can tell you my story
But my wandering days they are over and I’m thankful to still be alive
For I’ve many a kinsman who died in the hulks at the end of the bold forty-five
I’ve an Indian lass and I’ll never deceive her, but there’s nights when I’d up with the gun and I’d leave her
For the land where the bear and the fox and the beaver are lord
For the rovin’ dies hard.

My name’s Robert Johnson, I’m a man of the cloth, I’ll carry my bible as long as I’m breathing
I’ve preached the Lord’s gospel from Shanghai to Glasgow, where’er he saw fit to make heathens
But now the kirk’s calling me homeward, it’s the manse and the elders for me
But the sins of the sessions will no be sae far frae the sins……… of the South China Sea
Perhaps it’s the voice of the devil I’ve heard, it speaks of the clipper ships flying like birds
Till a man’s only comfort is scripture, the word of the Lord
For the rovin’ dies hard.

My name’s Willie Campbell, I’m a ship’s engineer and I know every berth between Lisbon and Largo
I’ve sweated more diesel in thirty-five years than a big tanker takes for a cargo
Of the good times I’ve always found plenty where whiskey and women were wild
And there’s many’s the wain with the red locks of the Campbells who’s ne’er seen the coast of Argyll
But now as the freighters unload on the quay, the sound of the engines is calling to me
And it sings me the song of the sun and the sea and the stars
For the rovin’ dies hard.

I’ve tuned up my fiddle, I’ve rosined the bow, I’ve sung of the clans and the clear crystal fountains
I can tell you the road and the miles frae Dundee to the back of Alaska’s wild mountains
When my traveling days they are over then the next of the rovers will come
And take all my songs and sing them again to the beat…… of a different drum
And if ever I’m asked why the Scots are beguiled, I’ll lift up my glass in a health and I’ll smile
And I’ll tell him that fortune dealt Scotland the wildest of cards
For the rovin’ dies hard.

The Rovin Ploughboy
Come saddle to me my old gray mare, saddle to me the pony-o
For I’m on the road and I’m going far awa’
Awa’ wi’ my rovin ploughboy-o
Ploughboy-o, ploughboy-o, follow the rovin ploughboy-o

Last night I lay in a fine feather bed, sheets and blankets so cozy-o
Tonight I will lie in a cold barn shed
Proud in the arms of my ploughboy-o

Champion ploughboy, my Johnny lad, cups and medals and prizes-o
In bonnie Deveronside there is none can compare
To my jolly rovin ploughboy-o

So fare thee well old Huntley toon, fare thee well Drumdelgie-o
For I’m on the road and I’m going far awa’
Awa’ wi’ my rovin ploughboy-o

Wild Mountain Thyme
Oh, the summer time has come and the trees are sweetly blooming,
And the wild mountain thyme grows around the blooming heather.

Will you go, lassie, go? And we'll all go together
To pull wild mountain thyme all around the blooming heather,
Will you go lassie, go?

If my true love, he were gone; I would surely find another
To pull wild mountain thyme all around the blooming heather.

I will build my love a bower by yon clear and crystal fountain,
And on it I will pile all the flowers of the mountain.

I will range through the wood and the deep glen sae dreary
And return with their spoil to the arms of my dearie

Return to Lyrics page