Health to our well-lo'ed Hielan Chief! Health, ay sour'd by care or grief: Inspir'd, I turn'd Fate's sibyl leaf, This natal morn, I see thy life is stuff o' prief, Scarce quite half-worn: All hail, all hail, auld birkie! Lord be near ye, And then the De'il, he daurna steer ye: Your friends ay love, your faes ay fear ye, For me, shame fa' me, If neist my heart I dinna wear ye, While BURNS they ca' me.
- by Robert Burns (1759 - 1796) [author's text not yet checked against a primary source]
- by (Edward) Benjamin Britten (1913 - 1976), "Birthday Song", op. 92 no. 1 (1975), from A Birthday Hansel, no. 1. [text verified 1 time]
Researcher for this text: Jean Branch
Text added to the website between May 1995 and September 2003.
Last modified: 2014-07-28 11:29:43
Line count: 12
Word count: 78