From the brown crest of Newark its summons extending, Our signal is waving in smoke and in flame; And each forester blithe, from hi mountain descending, Bounds light o'er the heater to join in the game. Then up with the banner, let forest winds fan her, She has blaz'd over Ettrick eight ages and more; In sport we'll attend her, in battle defend her With heart and with hand, like our fathers of yore. When the southern invader spread waste and disorder, At the glance of her crescent he paused and withdrew; For around them were marshall'd the pride of the border, The flowers of the Forest, the bands of Buccleuch. A stripling's weak hand to our revel has borne her, No mail glove has grasp'd her, no spearmen surround; But ere a bold foeman should scathe or should scorn her, A thousand true hearts would be cold on the ground. And when it is over, we'll drink a blithe measure, To each laird and each lady that witness'd our fun, And to every blithe heart that took part in our pleasure, To the lads that have lost, and the lads that have won. May the forest still flourish, both borough and landward, >From the hall of the peer to the herd's ingle-nook; And huzza! My brave hearts, for Buccleuch and his standard, For the King and the Country, the Clan and the Duke.
12 Scottish Songs , opus WoO. 156
by Ludwig van Beethoven (1770 - 1827)
1. The Banner of Buccleuch  [sung text checked 1 time]
Authorship:
- by Walter Scott, Sir (1771 - 1832)
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Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):
- GER German (Deutsch) [singable] (Georg Pertz) , "Das Banner von Buccleuch"
2. Duncan Gray  [sung text checked 1 time]
Duncan Gray cam here to woo,
(Ha, ha, the wooing o't !)
On blythe Yule night when we were fu',
(Ha, ha, the wooing o't !)
Maggie coost her head fu' high,
Look'd asklent and unco skiegh,
Gart poor Duncan stand abiegh;
Ha, ha, the wooing o't !
[ ... ]
Time and Chance are but a tide,
(Ha, ha, the wooing o't !)
Slighted love is sair to bide,
(Ha, ha, the wooing o't !)
Shall I, like a fool, quoth he,
For a haughty hizzie die?
She may gae to - France for me!
Ha, ha, the wooing o't !
How it comes let Doctors tell
(Ha, ha, the wooing o't !)
Meg grew sick as he grew heal,
(Ha, ha, the wooing o't !)
Something in her bosom wrings,
For a relief a sigh she brings;
And O ! her een, they spak sic things!
Ha, ha, the wooing o't !
Duncan was a lad o' grace,
(Ha, ha, the wooing o't !)
Maggie's was a piteous case,
(Ha, ha, the wooing o't !)
Duncan could na be her death,
Swelling Pity smoor'd his Wrath;
Now they're crouse and canty baith,
Ha, ha, the wooing o't !
Authorship:
- by Robert Burns (1759 - 1796), "Duncan Grey"
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Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):
- CZE Czech (Čeština) (Josef Václav Sládek) , "Dunkan"
- FRE French (Français) (Pierre Mathé) , "Duncan Gray", copyright © 2014, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
- GER German (Deutsch) [singable] (Georg Pertz) , "Duncan Gray"
Researcher for this page: Pierre Mathé [Guest Editor]
3. Up! Quit thy bower  [sung text checked 1 time]
Up! Quit thy bower, late wears the hour, Long have the rooks, caw'd round the tower; On flower and tree lood hums the bee, The wilding kid sports merrily. A day so bright, so fresh, so clear, Shines sweetly when good fortune's near. Up! Lady fair, and braid thy hair, And rouse thee in the breezy air; The lulling stream, that sooth'd thy dream, Is dancing in the sunny beam: And hours so sweet, so bright, so gay, Wil waft good fortune on its way. Up! Time will tell, the friar's bell Its service sound hath chimed well; The aged crone keeps house alone, And reapers to the fields are gone: The active day so boon, so bright, May bring good fortune ere the night.
Authorship:
- by Joanna Baillie (1762 - 1851), appears in The Beacon
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Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):
- GER German (Deutsch) (Georg Pertz) , "Auf! Kräht der Hahn"
4. Ye shepherds of this pleasant vale  [sung text checked 1 time]
Ye shepherds of this pleasant vale, Where Yarrow glides along, Forsake your rural toils And join in my triumphant song! She grants, she yields one heav'nly smile, Atones her long delays, One happy minute crown the pains Of many suff'ring days. Refrain: Yarrow, how dear thy stream, Thy beauteous banks how blest! For there 'twas first my loveliest maid, A mutual flame confest. Take, take whate'er of bliss or joy You fondly fancy mine; Whate'er of joy or bliss I boast, Love renders wholly thine. The woods struck up to the soft gale, The leaves were seen to move, The feather'd choir resum'd their voice, And music fill'd the grove. (Refrain)
Authorship:
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Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):
- GER German (Deutsch) [singable] (Georg Pertz) , "Schäferslied"
5. Cease your funning  [sung text checked 1 time]
Cease your funning, force or cunning, Never shall my heart trepan; All these sallies are but malice To seduce my constant man. 'Tis most certain by their flirting Women oft have envy shown, Pleas'd to ruin other's wooing Never happy with their own.
Authorship:
- by Anonymous / Unidentified Author
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Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):
- GER German (Deutsch) [singable] (Georg Pertz) , "Spar die Schwänke"
6. Highland Harry  [sung text checked 1 time]
My harry was a gallant gay, Fu' stately strade he on the plain, But now he's banish'd far away : I'll never see him back again. Refrain: O for him back again ! O for him back again ! I wad gie a Knockhaspie's land For Higland Harry back again. When a' the lave gae to their bed, I wander dowie up the glen, I set me down and greet my fill, And ay I wish him back again. O, were some villains hangit high, And ilka body had their ain, Then I might see the joyfu' sight, My Higland Harry back again !
Authorship:
- by Robert Burns (1759 - 1796), "Highland Harry"
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Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):
- FRE French (Français) (Pierre Mathé) , "Harry des Highlands", copyright © 2014, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
Researcher for this page: Ferdinando Albeggiani
7. Polly Stewart  [sung text checked 1 time]
Chorus O lovely Polly Stewart, O charming Polly Stewart, There's not a flower that blooms in May, That's half so fair as thou art. The flower it blaws, it fades and fa's, And art can ne'er renew it ; But Worth and Truth eternal Youth Will give to Polly Stewart! May he [whase arms shall fauld thy charms]1 Possess a leal a true heart ! To him be given to ken the heav'n He [grasps]2 in Polly Stewart ! Chorus O lovely Polly Stewart, O charming Polly Stewart. There's ne'er a flower that blooms in May That's half so sweet as thou art.
Authorship:
- by Robert Burns (1759 - 1796), "Lovely Polly Stewart"
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Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):
- CZE Czech (Čeština) (Josef Václav Sládek) , "Polly Stewartova"
- FRE French (Français) (Pierre Mathé) , "Belle Polly Stewart", copyright © 2014, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
- GER German (Deutsch) [singable] (Georg Pertz) , "Polly Stewart"
Confirmed with The Complete Poetical Works of Robert Burns, Cambridge edition, Boston and New York, Houghton Mifflin Company, 1897, page 259.
1 Beethoven: "who wins thy matchless charm"
2 Beethoven: "gains"
Research team for this page: Ferdinando Albeggiani , Pierre Mathé [Guest Editor]
8. Womankind  [sung text checked 1 time]
The hero may perish his country to save, And he lives in the records of fame; The sage may the dungeons of tyranny brave -- Ever honour'd and blest be his name! But virtue, that silently toils [or]1 expires, No wreath for the brow to [entwine]2, That asks but a smile -- but a fond sigh requires -- O woman! that virtue is thine!
Authorship:
- by William Smyth (1765 - 1849), "The fox's sleep"
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Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):
- FRE French (Français) (Guy Laffaille) , copyright © 2014, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
- GER German (Deutsch) [singable] (Georg Pertz)
Confirmed with The Edinburgh Review: Or Critical Journal for Oct 1823 ... Jan. 1824, Vol. XXXIX, Edinburh, 1824, page 81.
Note: in the score of Beethoven's "The hero may perish", the words "hero", "sage", "virtue", and "woman" are capitalized.
1 in Beethoven's setting "Womankind" : "and"
2 in Beethoven's setting "Womankind" : "adorn"
Researcher for this page: Ferdinando Albeggiani
9. Lochnagar  [sung text checked 1 time]
Away, ye gay landscapes, ye gardens of roses, In you let the minions of luxury rove, Restore me the rocks where the snow-flake reposes, Though still they are sacred to freedom and love. Yet Caledonia, belov'd are thy mountains, Round their white summits the elements war Though cataracts foam 'stead of smooth-flowing fountains, I sigh for the valley of dark Lochnagar. Ah! there my young footsteps in infancy wander'd, My cap was the bonnet, my cloak was my plaid. On chieftains long perish'd my memory ponder'd As daily I strode thro' the pine cover'd glade. I sought not my home till the day's dying glory Gave place to the rays of the bright Polar star. For fancy was cheer'd by traditional story, Disclos'd by the natives of dark Lochnagar! Years have roll'd on, Lochnagar, since I left you! Years must elapse ere I tread you again. Though nature of verdure and flow'rs has bereft you, Yet still are you dearer than Albion's plain. England, thy beauties are tame and domestic To one who has roamed over mountains afar O! for the crags that are wild and majestic, The steep frowning glories of dark Lochnagar.
Authorship:
- by George Gordon Noel Byron, Lord Byron (1788 - 1824), "Lochnagar"
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Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):
- FRE French (Français) (Pierre Mathé) , "Lochnagar", copyright © 2021, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
- GER German (Deutsch) [singable] (Georg Pertz) , "Lochnagar"
10. Glencoe  [sung text checked 1 time]
Oh! Tell me, Harper, wherefore flow Thy wayward notes of wail and woe Far down the desert of Glencoe, Where non may list their melody? Say, harp'st thou to the mist that fly, Or to the dun deer glancing by, Or to the eagle, that from high Screams chorus to thy minstrelsy? No, not to these, for they have rest, The mist-wreath has the mountain crest, The stag his lair, the erne her nest, Abode of lone security. But those for whom I pour the lay, Not wild wood deep, nor mountain grey, Not this deep dell that shrouds from day Could screen from treach'rous cruelty. The hand that mingled in the meal, At midnight drew the felon steel, And gave the host's kind breast to feel, Meed for his hospitality. The friendly heart which warm'd that hand, At midnight arm'd it with a brand That bade destruction's flames expand Their red and fearful blazonry. Long have my harp's best notes been gone, Few are its strings, and faint their tone, They can but sound in desert lone Their grey-hair'd master's misery. Were each grey hair a minstrel string, Each chord should imprecations fling, 'Till startled Scotland loud should ring, "Revenge for blood and treachery!"
Authorship:
- by Walter Scott, Sir (1771 - 1832), "On the Massacre of Glencoe"
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Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):
- FRE French (Français) (Guy Laffaille) , "Sur la massacre de Glencoe", copyright © 2014, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
- GER German (Deutsch) [singable] (Georg Pertz) , "Das Blutbad von Glencoe"
11. Auld Lang Syne  [sung text checked 1 time]
Should auld acquaintance be forgot And never brought to mind? Should auld acquaintance be forgot, And [auld]1 lang syne! Chorus: For auld lang syne, my [jo]2, For auld lang syne, We'll tak a cup o' kindness yet For auld lang syne. [ ... ] We twa hae run about the braes, And [pa'd]3 the gowans fine; But we've wander'd mony a weary [foot]4, Sin' auld lang syne. [ ... ] And there 's a hand, my trusty fiere! And gie 's a hand o' thine! And we'll take a right gude-willie-waught, For auld lang syne.
Authorship:
- by Robert Burns (1759 - 1796), "Auld lang syne"
See other settings of this text.
Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):
- CZE Czech (Čeština) (Josef Václav Sládek) , "Dávno již"
- FRE French (Français) (Pierre Mathé) , "Mémoire du bon vieux temps", copyright © 2014, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
- GER German (Deutsch) [singable] (Georg Pertz) , "Soll alte Freundschaft untergehen"
- HUN Hungarian (Magyar) (József Lévay) , "A régi múlt idő..."
1 Beethoven: "days o' "
2 Beethoven (and some other versions of Burns): "dear"
3 Some other versions of Burns: "pou'd"
4 Some other versions of Burns: "fit"
Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]
12. The Quaker's wife  [sung text checked 1 time]
Dark was the morn and black the sea, When my dear laddie left me, The swelling sails how swift they flee, Of all my joy bereft me! Methinks I see him take his stand On deck so firm and steady; And distant when he wav'd his hand, I knew his tartan plaidy. Alas! how heavy are the days In absence and in sorrow, While war and death a thousand ways Still make me dread tomorrow. O that ambition were at rest, While I, the captain's lady, Should with my soldier be so blest, All gay in tartan plaidy!
Authorship:
- by Anonymous / Unidentified Author
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Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):
- GER German (Deutsch) (Georg Pertz) , "Des Seemanns Weib"