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Broadside ballads entitled 'Lads That Were Reared Amang the Heather', 'Lothian Hairst', 'The Banks of Inverurie', and ''Twas in the Month of Sweet July'


Lothian Hairst


Lads   that   were   reared amang the   Heather


Lads that were Reared amang the Heather

Our famed British regiments are faithful and brave,
And never were known to have ears ;
They boldly gang forward their country to save,
When the signal of danger appears.
The Shamrock, the Rose, an' the Thistle combin'd,
Hae men that ne'er showed the white feather ;
But foremost in battle you always will find
The lads that were reared 'mang the heather.


Then gie three hearty cheers to our braw mountaineers,
The lads wi' the plaid an' the feather;
"We'll conquer or die," is the war-soondin' cry
Of the lads that were reared 'mang the heather.
On Alma's lone height, in the midst of the fight,
Brave Campbell the eagle defied.
There was work to be done, and wreaths to be won,
"Then forward', ye kilties," he cried.
Oor braw Heilent sodgers then speeled up the brae,
And bravely they charged on together ;
The fear trembling foemen were swept doon like hay
By the lads that were reared 'mang the heather.

At Lucknow, ye ken, when the great cry arose,
That mothers and infants were slain,
Oor kilties gaed forward and conquered their foes,
And peace for the Sepoys did claim.
Nae cauld thochts o' failure their bosoms e'er fill,
But bravely they charged in together,
And firm as the peaks o' their ain native hills,
Are the lade that were reared 'mang the heather.

The Lothian Hairst

On August twall frae Aiberdeen,
We sailed on board the Prince,
And safe arrived on Shawfield shore,
    The harvest to commence.
For sax lang weeks the country roon',
Frae toon tae toon we went,
We took richt weel in Lothian fair,
And aye we're weel content.

Oor gaffer, Willie Mathieson,
Frae sweet Deeside he came.
Oor foreman came frae that same place,
And Logan was his name.
We fallowed Logan on the first,
And sae weel he laid it doon,
And sae nimbly as he led oor squad,
Ower mony a thistly boon.

He cleared the bothy every nicht,
Before he went to sleep,
And not so much as ane did leave,
But strict his rules did keep.
And when he came to Aiberdeen,
He weel deserved a spree,
For the herding o' us a' sae weel,
For the Lothian lads were free.

Fareweel, M' Kenzie, Reid, and Rose,
And the rest o' the merry crew,
There's Chalmers, Shephard, Logan, Jock,
And the royal Stewart, too.
Come fill the glass and drink it roon' ,
Before oor boat shall start,
And may we safely reach the shors,
And all in friendsheip part.

The Banks of Inverurie.

One day as I was walking, and as I did pass,
On the banks of Inverurie I met a bonnie lass.
Her hair hung o'er her shoulders broad, her eyes like stars
did shine,
On the banks of Inverurie, it's oh ! gin she were mine!

I made up to this fair maid as boldly as I could?
Her hair hung o'er her shoulders broad like threads of beaten
And like a blood red cupid's bow was her bewitching mou'?
On the banks of Inverurie I long to walk with you.

She said, young man, give over delnding of me so,
For after kissing cometh wooing, after wooing, woe,
My tender heart you will ensnare, and I'll beguiled be,
On the banks of Inverurie I'll walk alone, said she.

His hunting horn he then did raise, and blew both loud and
When six and thirty gentleman came riding o'er the hill.
She said, you're used to courting   maids,   but this day it
       canna be;
On the banks of Inverurie I'll walk alone, said she.
You'll take this pretty fair maid, mount her on horseback high
And we will to a parson's go, and that immediately ;
And I will sing these words with joy, until the day I dee---
Praise Inverurie's lovely hanks where first I did you see.

Twas in the Month of
Sweet July.

'Twas in the month of sweet July,
Before the sun had pierced the sky,
'Twas doon between twa rigs o' rye,
I heard twa lovers talking.
He said, my love, I must away?
I have no longer time to stay;
But I've a word or two to say,
If ye hae time to hear them.

My horse sae high ye canna ride,
The waters deep ye canna wide,
The hills sae steep ye canna climb,
Sae lassie I maun leave ye.
Your horse sae high, love, I can ride,
The waters deep, love, I can wide,
The hills sae steep, love, I can climb,
Sae laddie, tak' me wi' ye.

Your father of ye tak'e guid care,
Your mother combs your yellow hair,
Wi' your sisters ye will have nae share,
Gin ye wed wi' me?a stranger.
Let father fret, let mother frown,
My sisters a' may me renown,
For if they were deid and in the groun',
Awa' wr' you I'd wander.

O lassie, laasie, yer fortune's sma',
And maybe it is nane ava,
Ye are nae match for me ava,
So seek some ither lover.
At this the lass looked very ill,
Her rosy cheeks are wan and pale,
The tears cam' trickling doon like hail,
Or a heavy shower in summer.

He's taen a 'kerchief o' silk sae fine,
And dried her cheeks, and kissed her syne,
Says, laasie, my love, ye'll never tine,
I said it a' tae try ye.
This couple they've got married noo,
And bairnies sweet they have a few,
They live in Brighton the winter through,

Copies can always be had at the Poets' Box, Overgate, Dundee.

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Probable period of publication: 1880-1900   shelfmark: RB.m.143(122)
Broadside ballads entitled 'Lads That Were Reared Amang the Heather', 'Lothian Hairst', 'The Banks of Inverurie', and ''Twas in the Month of Sweet July'
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