Poem by Carolina Oliphant, Lady Nairne

The Hundred Pipers

WI’ a hundred pipers, an’ a’, an’ a’,
Wi’ a hundred pipers, an’ a’, an’ a’,
We ’ll up, and we ’ll gi’e them a blaw, a blaw,
Wi’ a hundred pipers, an’ a’, an’ a’.
It is ower the border, awa’, awa’,
It is ower the border, awa’, awa’,
O, we ’ll on, an’ we ’ll march to Carlisle Ha’,
Wi’ its yetts, its castel, au’ a’, an’ a’.

O, our brave sodger lads looked braw, an’ braw,
Wi’ their tartans, their kilts, an’ a’, an’ a’,
Wi’ bannets an’ feathers, an’ glitterin’ gear,
An’ pibrochs soundin’ sae sweet an’ clear.
Will they a’ come hame to their ain dear glen?
Will they a’ return, our brave Hieland men?
O, second-sichted Sandie looked fu’ wae,
An’ mithers grat sair whan they marched away.
          Wi’ a hundred pipers, etc.

O, wha is the foremaist o’ a’, o’ a’?
Wha is it first follows the blaw, the blaw?
Bonnie Charlie, the king o’ us a’, us a’,
Wi’ his hundred pipers, an’ a’, an’ a’,
His bannet and feather, he ’s waving high,
His prancin’ steed maist seems to fly;
The nor’ wind plays wi’ his curly hair,
While the pipers blaw up an unco flare!
          Wi’ his hundred pipers, etc.

The Esk was swollen sae red an’ sae deep,
But shouther to shouther the brave lads keep;
Twa thousand swam ower to fell English ground,
An’ danced themselves dry to the pibroch sound.
Dumfoundered the English were a’, were a’,
Dumfoundered they a’ heard the blaw, the blaw,
Dumfoundered they a’ ran awa’, awa’,
Frae the hundred pipers, an’ a’, an’ a’.
          Wi’ a hundred pipers, etc.

1. Songs of My Native Land
2. There Grows a Bonnie Brier Bush
3. Fell He on the Field of Fame
4. Caller Herrin'
5. Would You Be Young Again?

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