MacEdward Leach and the Songs of Atlantic Canada
Bonnie Hills of Scotland
John James NFLD 2 Tape 9 Track 6
Trepassey Audio:
Ballad

Oh the bonny hills of Scotland where the bluebells do grow
There dwelled a shepherd's daughter down in the valley low
And many a time she heard them say along the banks of Clyde
Although her lot in life was low she was the village pride

And officer from Paisley town came there to hunt one day
He wandered on those lowland banks where Mary's cottage lay
So long and lonely did he gaze upon her beauty fair
And wondered how do fair a flower could grow and flourish there

Many a time he came that way each time a visit paid
His flashing tongue the heart soon won of this fair village maid
And off together they would rave through woodland banks and bloom
No tongue could tell how love did while those happy hours away

He came one morning to Mary’s cot his face being dark with woe
Saying Mary ever dear to me its from you I must part
Our reg'ment bas been called put and I’ve received command
I must exchange these rolling banks for Indian burning sand

Oh Edward dear our Mary cries from me you must not part
Pray take me as your wedded wife you know you've won my heart
I long to march battlefields twill be my heart’s desire
To go along with you my love dressed up in men' s attire

He took her down to Paisley town and much they wondered there
To see a young recruit that looked so gentle mild and fair
The ladies they admired him as he marched on parade
But little they knew a soldier's coat concealed so fair a maid

The hour of March it soon began on India's burning shore
No human tongue could tell the grief that poor young Mary bore
And when her strength within her failed she tried her grief to hide
She turned around and gave a smile to Edward by her side

The hour of battle soon began on India's blood field
She saw the English troops give way and to the Indians yield
She saw her lover shot down as a bullet pierced her side
But from his colours he never fled from where he fell he died

She raised him from the bloody ground and in her arms he was pressed
And while she stooped to dress his wounds a ball passed through her breast
As those true lovers lived in life in death it was the same
And when their fond heart's blood ran cold it mingled in one stream


Notes

All material on this webpage is copyright © 2004, Memorial University of Newfoundland Folklore and Language Archive, Memorial University of Newfoundland. No unauthorized copying or use is permitted. For more information, follow this link.