1. PIPER O' DUNDEE

(Instrumental)


2. THE LION OF SCOTLAND

Red Lion famed and feared of old
On Scotland's battle field
The blazon of her banner fold
The 'scutcheon of her shield
Meet emblem of her heroes, whom
Thou ledd'st to battle forth
And ledd'st to triumph, or a tomb,
Red Lion of the North !

The warlike Pict, the wandering Dane,
Oft thou hast made to mourn,
And sterner glories dyed they name,
The blood of Bannockburn !
On later fields, in many a clime
Hast thou pawed proudly forth,
Triumphant as of olden time,
Red Lion of the North !

The chieftain's cairn, the martyr's grave,
Where sleep the heroic dead,
May ne'er the footstep of a slave,
Profane them with their tread
Nor vainly may the future see
Our armed hosts go forth,
Beneath St Andrew's cross, and thee,
Red Lion of the North !

The ancient mind, the ancient might,
Still may our hills produce,
To wield the sword of Wallace Wight,
The battle-axe of Bruce !
The soul to love the minstrel's lore,
And prize the patriot's worth.
The spirit of the years of yore,
Red Lion of the North !

High honour unto thine and thee,
For never shalt thou wave,
But from the flag-staff of the free,
The banner of the brave !
And by thy glories in the past,
When Scotland bears thee forth,
Stand thou for freedom, first and last,
Red Lion of the North !


3. BANNOCKBURN

Unflinching foot 'gainst foot was set,
Unceasing blow by blow was met
The groans of those who fell
Were drown'd amid the shriller clang
That from the blades and harness rang,
And in the battle yell.
Yet fast they fell, unheard, forgot,
Both Southern fierce and hardy Scot
And O ! Amid that waste of life,
What various motives fired the strife !
The aspiring Noble bled for fame,
The Patriot for his country's claim
This Knight his youthful strength to prove,
And that to win his lady's love
Some fought from ruffian thirst of blood,
From habit some, or hardihood.
But ruffian stern, and soldier good,
The noble and the slave,
From various cause the same wild road,
On the same bloody morning, trode,
To that dark inn, the Grave !


4. HAIL LAND OF MY FATHERS !

Hail, land of my fathers ! I stand on thy shore,
'Neath the broad-fronted bluffs of thy granite once more
Old Scotland, my mother, the rugged, the bare,
That reared me with breath of the strong mountain air.
No more shall I roam where soft indolence lies
'Neath the cloudless repose of the featureless skies,
But where the white mist sweeps the red-furrowed scaur,
I will fight with the storm and grow strong by the war !
What boots all the blaze of the sky and the billow,
Where manhood must rot on inglorious pillow ?
'Tis the blossom that blooms from the taint of the grave,
'Tis the glitter that gildeth the bonds of the slave.
But Scotland, stern mother, for struggle and toil
Thou trainest thy children on hard, rocky soil
And thy stiff-purposed heroes go conquering forth,
With the strength that is bred by the blasts of the north.
Hail, Scotland, my mother ! And welcome the day
When again I shall brush the bright dew from the brae,
And, light as a bird, give my foot to the heather,
My hand to my staff, and my face to the weather
Then climb to the peak where the ptarmigan flies,
Or stand by the linn where the salmon will rise,
And vow never more with blind venture to roam
From the strong land that bore me - my own Scottish home.


5. ETTRICK FOREST IN NOVEMBER

November's sky is chill and drear,
November's leaf is red and sear
I ate, gazing down the steepy linn,
That hems our little garden in,
Low in its dark and narrow glen
You scarce the rivulet might ken,
So thick the tangled greenwood grew,
So feeble trill'd the streamlet through
Now, murmuring hoarse, and frequent seen
Through bush and brier, no longer green,
An angry brookn it sweeps the glade,
Brawls over rock and wild cascade,
And, foaming brown with doubled speed,
Hurries its waters to the Tweed.
No longer Autumn's glowing red
Upon our Forest hills is shed
No more beneath the evening beam
Fair Tweed reflects their purple gleam
Away hath pass'd the heather-bell
That bloom'd so rich on Needpathfell
Sallow his brow ; and russet bare
Are now the sister-heights oy Yair.
The sheep, before the pinching heaven,
To shelter'd dale and down are driven,
Where yet some faded herbage pines,
Abd yet a watery sunbeam shines
In meek despondency they eye
The wither'd sward and wintry sky,
And far beneath their summer hill,
Stray sadly by Glenkinnon's rill
The shepherd shifts his mantle's fold,
And wraps him closer from the cold ;
His dogs no merry circles wheel,
But shivering follow at his heel;
A cowering glance they often cast,
As deeper moans the gathering blast.


6. THE SPELLBOUND-KNIGHT

Lady, dar'st thou seek the shore
Which ne'er woman's footstep bore ;
Where beneath yon rugged steep,
Restless rolls the darksome deep ?

Dar'st thou, though thy blood run chill,
Thiher speed at midnight still
And when horror rules the sky,
Raise for lover lost thy cry ?

Dar'st thou at that ghastiest hour
Breathe the word of magic power
Word that breaks the mermaid's spell,
Which false lover knows too well ?

When affrighted spectres rise
'Twixt pale flood and ebon skies,
Dar'st thou, reft of maiden fear,
Bid the water-witch appear ?

When upon the sallow tide
Pearly elfin boat does glide,
When the mystic oar is heard,
like the wing of baleful bird
Dar'st thou with a voice of might
Call upon thy spell-bound knight ?

When the shallop neareth land,
dar'st thou, with thy snow-white hand,
Boldy on the warrior's breast
Place the cross by churchman bless ?
When is done this work of peril,
Thou hast won proud Ulster's Earl !


7. IN SHADOWLAND

Between the moaning of the mountain stream
And the hoarse thunder of the Atlantic deep,
And outcast from the peaceful realms of sleep
I lie, and hear as in a fever-dream
The homeless night-wind in the darkness scream
And wail around the inaccessible steep
Down those gaunt sides the spectral torrents leap
From crag to crag, - till almost I could deem
The plaided ghosts of buried centuries
Were mustering in the glen with bow and spear
And shadowy hounds to hunt the shadowy deer,
Mix in phantasmal sword-play, or, with eyes
Of wrath and pain immortal, wander o'er
Loved scenes where human footstep comes no more.


8. WINTER : A DIRGE

The wintry west extends his blast,
And hail and rain does blaw ;
Or the stormy north sends driving forth
The blinding sleet and snaw :
Wild-tumbling brown, the burn comes down,
And roars frae bank to brae :
And bird and beast in covert rest,
And pass the heartless day.
The sweeping blast, the sky o'ercast,
The joyless winter day
Let others fear, to me more dear
Than all the pride of May :
The tempest's howl,it soothes my soul,
My griefs it seems to join ;
The leafless trees my fancy please,
Their fate resembles mine !
Thou Pow'r Supreme, whose mighty scheme
These woes of mine fulfil.
Here, firm I rest, they must be best,
Because they are Thy will !
Then all I want(O do Thou grant
This one request of mine !) :
Since to enjoy Thou dost deny,
Assist me to resign.


9. CULLODEN MOOR (Seen in Autumn Rain)

Full of grief, the low winds sweep
O'er the sorrow-haunted ground ;
Dark the woods where night rains weep,
Dark the hills that watch around.
Tell me, can the joys of spring
Ever make this sadness flee,
Make the woods with music ring,
And the streamlet laugh for glee ?
When the summer moor is lit
With the pale fire of the broom,
And through green r=the shadows flit,
Still shall mirth give place to gloom ?
Sad shall it be, though sun be shed
Golden bright on field and flood ;
E'en the heather's crimson red
Holds the memory of blood.
Here that broken, weary band
Met the ruthless foe's array,
Where those moss-grown boulders stand,
On that dark and fatal day.
Like a phantom hope had fled,
Love to death was all in vain,
Vain, though heroes' blood was shed,
And though hearts were broke in twain.
Many a voice has cursed the name
Time has into darkness thrust,
Cruelty his only fame
In forgetfulness and dust.
Noble dead that sleep below,
We your valour ne'er forget ;
Soft the heroes' rest who know
Hearts like theirs are beating yet.


10. BLAR NA H-EAGLAISE

(Instrumental)