Complete Songs Of Robert Burns - online book

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No. 229. I sing of a whistle.
Tune: The Whistle Scots Musical Museum, 1792, No. 314.
I sing of a whistle, a whistle of worth,
I sing of a whistle, the pride of the North,
Was brought to the court of our good Scotish king,
And long with this whistle all Scotland shall ring.
Chorus. Fal de ral lal lal lay
And long with this whistle all Scotland shall ring.
Old Loda, still rueing the arm of Fingal, The god of the bottle sends down from his hall— ' This whistle's your challenge, to Scotland get o'er, And drink them to hell, sir, or ne'er see me more!'
Old poets have sung, and old. chronicles tell, What champions ventur'd, what champions fell; The son of great Loda was conqueror still, And blew on the whistle their requiem shrill.
Till Robert, the lord of the- Cairn and the Scaur, Unmatch'd at the bottle, unconquer'd in war. He drank his poor god-ship as deep as the sea: No tide of the Baltic e'er drunker than he.