Songs

Paroles

The life of a shepherd is void of all carea, With his bag and his bottle he maketh good farea. He ruffles, he shuffles in all extreme winda, His flock sometimes before him, and sometimes behinda. He hath the green meadows to walk at his willa, With a pair of fine bagpipes upon the green hilla; Trang dilla, trang- dilla, trang down a down dilla, With a pair of fine bagpipes up- on the green hilla. His sheep round about him do feed on the dalea, His bag full of cake bread, his bottle of alea, A cantle of cheese that is good and olda, Because that he walketh all day in the colda; With his cloak and his sheephook thus marcheth he stilla, With a pair of fine bagpipes upon the green hilla; Trang dilla, trangdilla, trang down a down dilla, With a pair of fine bagpipes upon the green hilla. If cold doth op- press him to cabin goeth hea If heat doth molest him, then under green treea; If his sheep chance to range over the plaina, His little dog Lightfoot doth fetch them againa, For there he attendeth his master’s own willa, With a pair of fine bagpipes upon the green hilla; Trangdilla, trangdilla, trang down a down dilla, With a pair of fine bagpipes upon the green hilla. If Phillida chance come tripping asidea, A most friendly welcome he doth her betidea, He straightways presents her a poor shepderd’s feesa, His bottle of good ale, his cake and his cheesea. He pipeth, she danceth all at their own willa, With a pair of fine bagpipes up- on the green hilla, Trangdilla, trangdilla, trang down a down dilla, With a pair of fine bagpipes upon the green hilla.