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.