Words:
Agnes Lyon
(1762-1840)
|
The
famous fiddler was well known for being fond of a "wee dram," but when the
Government imposed a tax on it he decided he could no longer afford it and composed
this tune, to which Agnes Lyon set these verses.
|
Melody:
Neil Gow
(1727-1807) |
|
Ye've
surely heard o famous Neil,
The man that played the fiddle weel;
I wat he was a canty chiel.
An' dearly lo'ed the whisky, O.
An' aye sin he wore tartan hose,
He dearly lo'ed the Athole Brose;
An' wae was he, you may suppose,
To bid fareweel to whisky, O.
Alake, quo' Neil, I'm frail an' auld,
And find my bluid grows unco cauld,
I think it maks me blythe and bauld,
A wee drop Highland whisky, O.
But a' the doctors do agree
That whisky's no the drink for me;
I'm fleyed they'll gar me tyne my glee,
Should they part me and whisky, O.
|
But
I should mind on 'auld fang syne',
How paradise our friends did tyne,
Because something ran in their min'-
Forbid, like Highland whisky, O.
While I can get both wine and ale,
And find my head and fingers hale,
I'll be content, though legs should fail,
And though forbidden whisky, O.
I'll tak my fiddle in my hand,
And screw the strings up while they stand,
And mak a lamentation grand
For guid auld Highland whisky, O!
O! a' ye pow'rs o music, come.
I find my heart grows unco glum;
My fiddlestrings will hardly bum
To say, 'Fareweel to whisky, O'.
|
|
Return
to Home Page
