It is Burns Night tonight, and so at folk club on Monday we sang some Rabbie Burns, specifically 1794’s The Highland Widow’s Lament.

Full lyric is published below – he’s long dead, so I suspect he can’t sue me.

Oh, I am come to the low Countrie, 
Ochon, Ochon, Ochrie! 
Without a penny in my purse, 
To buy a meal to me. 

It was na sae in the Highland hills, 
Ochon, Ochon, Ochrie! 
Nae woman in the Country wide
Sae happy was as me. 

For then I had a score o' kye, 
Ochon, Ochon, Ochrie! 
Feeding on yon hill sae high, 
And giving milk to me. 

And there I had three score o' yowes, 
Ochon, Ochon, Ochrie! 
Skipping on yon bonie knowes,  
And casting woo' to me. 

I was the happiest of a' the Clan, 
Sair, sair may I repine; 
For Donald was the brawest man, 
And Donald he was mine. 

Till Charlie Stewart cam at last, 
Sae far to set us free; 
My Donald's arm was wanted then 
For Scotland and for me. 

Their waefu' fate what need I tell, 
Right to the wrang did yield; 
My Donald and his Country fell, 
Upon Culloden field. 

Ochon, O, Donald, Oh!     	
Ochon, Ochon, Ochrie! 
Nae woman in the warld wide, 
Sae wretched now as me.