21 For that land and that freedem our fathers have bled, And we swear by the blood which our fathers have shed, That ne feet of a fee shall e'er tread on their grave, But the thistle shall bleem on the bed of the brave, The thistle of Scotia !--the thistle sae green!
OCH HEY! JOHNNIE LAD.
Och hey! Johnnie lad, Ye're no sae kind's ye should ha'e been, Och hey, Johnnie lad, Ye didna keep your tryst yestreen. I waited lang beside the wood, Sae wae and weary, a' my lane, Och hey, Johnnie lad, Ye're no sae kind's ye should hae been,
I looked by the whinny knowe, I looked by the firs sae green, I leeked owre the spunkie how, And aye I thought ye would hae been. The ne'er a supper cress'd my craig, The ne'er a sleep has clos'd my e'en, Och hey, Johnnie lad, Ye're no sae kind's ye should hae been.
Gin ye were waiting by the weed, Then I was waiting by the thern, I thought it was the place we sot, And waited maist till dawning morn.
