Tuesday, 19 March 2013

Our Bonny Green-aik Tree

Written by John Crawford, a local man who was born in 1816 in the room where his relative, Highland Mary died and dedicated to the Greenock “folk.”

Gae sing o’ saunts an seers o’ auld-
Nae patron  saunt hae we-
Our faithers maskt their hamert maut.
An’ drank its halesome bree;
An as their drouth they sloken’d down,
They sang wi’ cantie glee-
“Oh! Stately fair may flourish aye,
Our bonny green-aik tree.”

An’neath its spreadin’ branches wide,
When storms our lift o’ercast,
May buirdly chiels for aye be rear’d
To brave ilk threaten’d blast;
An’ when a foreign soil they tread,
Or stem the briny sea,
The homely chorus let the raise-
“Our bonny green-aik tree.”

Oh. Ne’er may pleasure warm the heart,
Nor beauty smile to bless
The bairn wah slights a mither’s hearth,
Nor langs he haun to press-
Wha thinks na o’ his kindly hame,
Tho’ distant far be he
That wadna then the chorus raise-
“Our bonny green-aik tree.”

Our faithers drank their nappy yill
Our gaucy mothers span;
Ilk lassie busket trig and braw,
To win a young gudeman;
An’as they trippet fair an’ fond,
They sang wi’ lightsome glee-
“Our sunny shore, our bonny braes,
An bonny green-aik tree.”

A crooked steeple tower’d na then
Aboon our neighbour toun;
The bairnies toddled thro’ the glen
To pu’ the gowden broom,-
Whan circlin’ roun ilk grassy knowe,
They sang wi blithesome glee-
That ne’er a plotted bell wad hing
Aneath their green-aik tree.

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