A Celtic Requiem
by - Baz Cann
No more to draw that Dirk so keen,
Nor play these pipes o' mine,
Or tread the way through peat and heather,
With these Brogues so fine,
To keep time with my kinsmen clan,
And share a dram or two,
Then in to battle bravely go,
A' coloured up in blue.
I'll no longer sleep in the glen,
Or high on craggy peak,
Listening on to the Red-coats,
And the strangeness that they speak.
For now has my last battle come,
And it's my turn to go,
As for my name, it matters not,
But one that all should know.
The world is made of different men,
All shapes and varied sizes,
Many a good and honest soul,
Have borne so many guises,
Warriors come, and then they go,
With more to take their places,
And hearts as pure as mountain streams,
A'hind ferocious faces.
To wear the Tartan o' my clan
Illegal as that's become,
Or carrying our weaponry,
Well that's alright by some,
But what they cannot take away,
Is the spirit of our nation,
That's why we defend 'till the last
Our position, and our station.
Written and dedicated to the memory of Heath White, a gentleman of the
first order and good friend, who saw fit to end his life this year of the
Lord 2004 on 27th January.........