'Yestreen I dreamed a dolefu'dream; I ken'd here wad be sorrow! I dreamed I pu'd the heather green, On the dowie banks o' Yarrow.' She gaed up yon high, high hill I wat she gaed wi'sorrow An' in the den spied nine dead men, On the dowie houms o' Yarrow.
Ca'the yowes to the knowes, Ca'them whare the heather grows, Ca'them whare the burnie rowes, My bonie Dearie!
So 'ere's to you, Fuzzy-Wuzzy, at your 'ome in the Soudan; You're a pore benighted 'eathen but a first-class fightin' man; An''ere's to you, Fuzzy-Wuzzy, with your 'ayrick 'ead of 'air You big black boundin' beggarfor you broke a British square!
I love a lassie, a bonnie, bonnie lassie, She's as pure as the lily in the dell. She's as sweet as the heather The bonnie bloomin' heather Mary, ma Scotch Bluebell.
Then strip lads, and to it, though sharp be the weather, And if, by mischance, you should happen to fall, There are worse things in life than a tumble on the heather And life is itself a game of football.
Webster's New World Dictionary of Quotations Copyright © 2010 by Chambers Harrap Publishers Ltd. All rights reserved. Published by Wiley, Hoboken, NJ. Used by arrangement with John Wiley & Sons, Inc.
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