Bannockburn By A. MacDonald Midsummers eve, thirteen fourteen Two armies draw up on the green The stoutest force that e'er was seen Around the Bannock water To crush the Scots was Edward's boast And rule the land from coast to coast Let Scotsmen quail before his host Like lambs before the slaughter Chorus Draw the sword at Bannockburn See Scottish dignity return Let the foreign tyrant learn Each man is at his station Join the lion o' the north And drive the false invader forth To show the world o' Scotland's worth An Independant nation. The Scots outnumbered three to one Take up their places on the run The chilterens in the morning sun Defiant as the thistle The English lines of armour bright Present an awesome, fearful sight Behind each mounted southern knight The spears and lances bristle Chorus The mercenary knight De-Bohun In armour black from toe to plume Spurs out to charge the Bruce's tune And ca' the nacht o' sorrows He thunders at him cross the plain Bruce weilds his pony in disdain And drives his axe through skull and brain And ends De-Bohun's tomorrows Chorus Then charge the English to the field Towards the hedge of Scottish steel And into mud and carnage wheel In waves of dead and fallen The Etterick archers join the fray And send aloft their deadly spray And countless in their saddles slay Who's death knell now is tollen Chorus The name of Douglas sing with pride MacNeil and Stewart brave beside And all who swelled that gallant tide To stem the south's advancing And here's to Robert Bruce by name Our own true king renowned in fame His flag like red and yellow flame In Scotland's honour dancing Here's to the Bruce at Bannockburn With pride, each Scottish heart should burn As Edward back to London turns To mourn his fallen glory Hail the lion of the north Send trumpeter and herald forth To tell the world of Scotland's worth To place in freedom's story Chorus
Music; traditional. Content copyright © 2000 held by the author; Ian Hall.
