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Updated: April 30, 2025
Awake on your hills, on your islands awake, Brave sons of the mountain, the frith, and the lake! 'Tis the bugle but not for the chase is the call; 'Tis the pibroch's shrill summons but not to the hall.
"the pibroch's music, thrills To the heart of those lone hills," the dreary banks and bluffs of the Eastern Branch will show more frequent signs of habitation and visitation. To visit the poor-house one must have a "permit" from the mayor, physician, or a poor commissioner.
'The Esk was swollen sae red an' sae deep, But shouther to shouther the brave lads keep; Twa thousand swam owre to fell English ground, An' danced themselves dry to the pibroch's sound. Dumfounder'd the English saw, they saw, Dumfounder'd they heard the blaw, the blaw, Dumfounder'd they a' ran awa', awa', Frae the hundred pipers an' a', an' a'!
Awake on your hills, on your islands awake, Brave sons of the mountain, the frith, and the lake! 'T is the bugle but not for the chase is the call; 'T is the pibroch's shrill summons but not to the hall.
So Mary brought out the old tartan-covered song-book and they sang it through, from the dreamy wail of "Ye Banks and Braes" to the rollicking lilt of the Hundred Pipers when "Twa thousand swam ower to fell English ground, An' danced themselves dry to the pibroch's sound!" It was a grand old-time evening, such as was not so often indulged in as when times were newer and money scarce. When Mrs.
Awake on your hills, on your islands awake, Brave sons of the mountains, the frith and the lake! 'Tis the bugle but not for the chase is the call; 'Tis the pibroch's shrill summons but not to the hall.
'T is the bugle but not for the chase is the call; 'T is the pibroch's shrill summons but not to the hall. 'T is the summons of heroes for conquest or death, When the banners are blazing on mountain and heath: They call to the dirk, the claymore, and the targe, To the march and the muster, the line and the charge. Be the brand of each chieftain like Fin's in his ire!
Awake on your hills, on your islands awake, Brave sons of the mountain, the frith, and the lake! 'T is the bugle but not for the chase is the call; 'T is the pibroch's shrill summons but not to the hall.
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