PALM BEACH PIPES & DRUMS
Bonnie Dundee
Sir Walter Scott
Tae the lairds i' convention t'was Claverhouse spoke
E'er the Kings crown go down, there'll be crowns to be broke;
Then let each cavalier who loves honour and me
Come follow the bonnets o' bonnie Dundee.
Chorus
Come fill up my cup, come fill up my can,
Saddle my horses and call out my men.
And it's Ho! for the west port and let us gae free,
And we'll follow the bonnets o' bonnie Dundee!
2. Dundee he is mounted, he rides doon the street,
The bells they ring backwards, the drums they are beat,
But the Provost, (douce man!), says ;Just e'en let him be
For the toon is well rid of that de'il o' Dundee.
Chorus
3. There are hills beyond Pentland and lands beyond Forth,
Be there lairds i' the south, there are chiefs i' the north!
There are brave Duniewassals, three thousand times three
Will cry "Hoy!" for the bonnets o' bonnie Dundee.
Chorus
4. Then awa' tae the hills, tae the lea, tae the rocks
E'er I own a usurper, I'll couch wi' the fox!
Then tremble, false Whigs, in the midst o' your glee
Ye hae no seen the last o' my bonnets and me.
Chorus
Sir Walter Scott
Tae the lairds i' convention t'was Claverhouse spoke
E'er the Kings crown go down, there'll be crowns to be broke;
Then let each cavalier who loves honour and me
Come follow the bonnets o' bonnie Dundee.
Chorus
Come fill up my cup, come fill up my can,
Saddle my horses and call out my men.
And it's Ho! for the west port and let us gae free,
And we'll follow the bonnets o' bonnie Dundee!
2. Dundee he is mounted, he rides doon the street,
The bells they ring backwards, the drums they are beat,
But the Provost, (douce man!), says ;Just e'en let him be
For the toon is well rid of that de'il o' Dundee.
Chorus
3. There are hills beyond Pentland and lands beyond Forth,
Be there lairds i' the south, there are chiefs i' the north!
There are brave Duniewassals, three thousand times three
Will cry "Hoy!" for the bonnets o' bonnie Dundee.
Chorus
4. Then awa' tae the hills, tae the lea, tae the rocks
E'er I own a usurper, I'll couch wi' the fox!
Then tremble, false Whigs, in the midst o' your glee
Ye hae no seen the last o' my bonnets and me.
Chorus
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