North（1 / 1）

a fiddler in the north

tune—“the king o' france he rade a race.”

amang the trees, where humming bees,

at buds and flowers were hinging, o,

auld caledon drew out her drone,

and to her pipe was singing, o:

'twas pibroch, sang, strathspeys, and reels,

she dirl'd them aff fu' clearly, o:

when there cam' a yell o' foreign squeels,

that dang her tapsalteerie, o.

their capon craws an' queer “ha, ha's,”

they made our lugs grow eerie, o;

the hungry bike did scrape and fyke,

till we were wae and weary, o:

but a royal ghaist, wha ance was cas'd,

a prisoner, aughteen year awa',

he fir'd a fiddler in the north,

that dang them tapsalteerie, o.