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124 LADY NAIRNE AND HER SONGS.
We '11 up an' gie them a blaw, a blaw, Wi' a hundred pipers an' a', an' a', Oh, it's owre the Border awa', awa' ; It's owre the Border awa', awa'; We '11 on and we '11 march to Carlisle ha ; Wi' its yetts, its castle an' a', an' a', Wi' a hundred pipers an' a', etc.
Our young sodger lads looked braw, looked braw, With their tartans, kilts an' a', an' a', With their bonnets and feathers and glittering gear, An' pibrochs sounding sweet an* clear. Will they a' return to their ain dear glen ? Will they a' return, our Hieland men ? Second-sighted Sandy looked fu wae, An' mothers grat, when they marched away, Wi' a hundred pipers, etc.
O, wha' is foremost o' a', o' a'; O, wha' does follow the blaw, the blaw, Bonnie Charlie, the King o' us a', hurra ! Wi' his hundred pipers an' a', an' a'; His bonnet an' feather he's wavin' high, His prancin' steed maist seems to fly, The nor' wind plays wi' his curlin' hair, While the pipers blew up an' unco flare, Wi' a hundred pipers, etc.
The Esk was swollen sae red and sae deep, But shouther to shouther the brave lads keep, Two thousand swam o'er to fell English ground, An' danced themselves dry to the pibroch's sound. Dumfoundered the English saw — they saw,