Life and Songs of the Baroness Nairne With a Memoir and Poems of Caroline Oliphant the Younger: Edited by the Rev. Charles Rogers ... With a Portrait and Other Illustrations |
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HEY THE RANTIN' MURRAY'S HA' |
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 | Life and Songs of the Baroness Nairne |  |
45
HEY THE RANTIN' MURRAY'S HA'
Hey the rantin' Murray's ha'!
Mirth and glee amang them a'!
The courtly laird, the leddy braw,
They'll welcome ye to Murray's ha'.
Come ye hungry, come ye dry,
Nane had never need to wait;
Come ye brisk, or come ye shy,
They'll meet ye or ye're at the yett.
Mirth and glee amang them a'!
The courtly laird, the leddy braw,
They'll welcome ye to Murray's ha'.
Come ye hungry, come ye dry,
Nane had never need to wait;
Come ye brisk, or come ye shy,
They'll meet ye or ye're at the yett.
Some were feasting in the ha',
Some at sports upon the green;
Peggy, flower amang them a',
Dancing like a Fairy Queen.
Blythest o' my blythesome days
I ha'e spent at Murray's ha',
But oh, my heart was like to break
When I saw Peggy gang awa.
Some at sports upon the green;
Peggy, flower amang them a',
Dancing like a Fairy Queen.
Blythest o' my blythesome days
I ha'e spent at Murray's ha',
But oh, my heart was like to break
When I saw Peggy gang awa.
Whaur she gaed or why gaed she,
Few were there that weel could tell;
I thought it was to lightlie me—
She maybe—scarcely kenn'd hersel'.
They said a ghaist was in the wa',
Sometimes aneath, sometimes aboon;
A' body heard—nae body saw,
But a' were sure, they'd see it soon.
Few were there that weel could tell;
I thought it was to lightlie me—
She maybe—scarcely kenn'd hersel'.
They said a ghaist was in the wa',
Sometimes aneath, sometimes aboon;
A' body heard—nae body saw,
But a' were sure, they'd see it soon.
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Some say the General, honest man,
That fear'd na bullets, great or sma',
Wad rather fac'd the Mons Meg gun
Than meet the ghaist o' Murray's ha'.
'Tis no the gate I think ava,
To lay a ghaist wi' mirth and glee;
Scholar'd lads, and lassies braw,
Need nae ghaist nor goblin dree.
That fear'd na bullets, great or sma',
Wad rather fac'd the Mons Meg gun
Than meet the ghaist o' Murray's ha'.
'Tis no the gate I think ava,
To lay a ghaist wi' mirth and glee;
Scholar'd lads, and lassies braw,
Need nae ghaist nor goblin dree.
| Life and Songs of the Baroness Nairne | |