The Poetical Works of Robert Burns/Amang the Trees
AMANG THE TREES.
TUNE—'THE KING OF FRANCE, HE RADE A RACE.'
Amang the trees where humming bees
At buds and flowers were hinging, O
Auld Caledon drew out her drone,
And to her pipe was singing; O
'Twas Pibroch, Sang, Strathspey, or Reels,
She dirl❜d them aff fu' clearly, O
When there cam a yell o' foreign squeels,
That dang her tapsalteerie, O—
At buds and flowers were hinging, O
Auld Caledon drew out her drone,
And to her pipe was singing; O
'Twas Pibroch, Sang, Strathspey, or Reels,
She dirl❜d them aff fu' clearly, O
When there cam a yell o' foreign squeels,
That dang her tapsalteerie, O—
Their capon craws and queer ha ha's,
They made our lugs grow eerie; O
The hungry bike did scrape and pike
Till we were wae and weary: O—
But a royal ghaist wha ance was cas'd
A prisoner aughteen year awa,
He fir'd a fiddler in the north
That dang them tapsalteerie, O.
They made our lugs grow eerie; O
The hungry bike did scrape and pike
Till we were wae and weary: O—
But a royal ghaist wha ance was cas'd
A prisoner aughteen year awa,
He fir'd a fiddler in the north
That dang them tapsalteerie, O.
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