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	The Flag in the Wind A weekly online newspaper bringing you information on the political scene in Scotland: part of the monthly Scots Independent.
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CAMPAIGNING FOR SCOTLAND
(Owned, Edited and Printed in Scotland since November 1926)
"Promoting all that is best in Scottish Nationalism and all that is best in Scotland."
Content of the Flag in the Wind Web Site is the copyright of the Scots Independent Newspaper.

[ Issue 354 - 16th March 2007]

Compiled by Peter D Wright

THE ROAD TO DUNDEE
Traditional

Cauld winter was howlin' o'er muir and o'er mountain,

And wild was the surge on the dark rolling sea;

When I met about daybreak a bonnie young lassie

Wha asked me the road and the miles to Dundee.

Says I "My young lassie, I canna' weel tell ye,

The road and the distance I canna' weel gie,

But if you'll permit me tae gang a wee bittie,

I'll show you the road and the miles to Dundee?"

At once she consented, and gave me her arm,

Ne'er a word I did speir wha the lassie micht be;

She appeared like an angel in feature and form,

As she walked by my side on the road to Dundee.

At length wi' the Howe o' Strathmartine behind us,

And the spires o' the toun in full view we could see;

She said, "Gentle sir, I can never forget ye

For showing me so far on the road to Dundee."

"This ring and this purse take to prove I am grateful,

And some simple token I trust ye'll gie me,

And in times to come I'll remember the laddie

That showed me the road and the miles to Dundee."

I took the gowd pin from the scarf on my bosom,

And said, "Keep ye this in remembrance o' me;"

Then bravely I kissed the sweet lips o' the lassie

Ere I parted wi' her on the road to Dundee.

So here's to the lassie - I ne'er can forget her -

And ilka young laddie that's listening tae me;

And never be sweer to convoy a young lassie,

Though it's only to show her the road to Dundee.

camsteerie: giddy ; unruly ; wild
cornkister: farmworkers' song
dunt: blow ; bump ; knock
mishanter: accident ; calamity ; mischance
preses: chairman ; president
stey: steep

Tak a guid bucket: Be a heavy drinker

        Quhen Alessandre oure King wes deid
        That Scotland lede in luf and le'
        Awa wes sonse of aill and breid,
        Off wyne and walx, of gamyn and gle;
        Oure gold wes chngeit into leid,
        The frute wes falyeit fra everie tree'
        Christ, born into virgynyte'
        Succour Scotland and remeid,
        That stad is in perplexitie !

In Memorandum Andrew D Lowe 1919 - 2000

The greatest asset of the SNP according to the late John McAteer when National Organiser, was "body heat". The death of Andrew D Lowe, on 10th February, has robbed us, of yet another of those Nationalists who provided that "body heat". I first knew Andrew, a stalwart of the Aberdour Branch, when I chaired the then West Fife Constituency Association SNP. He played an enthusiastic and valuable part in the campaign leading up to the 1970 General Election, when James Halliday carried the SNP Banner in West Fife.

Five days before his death. Andrew wrote to me (his last letter) reflecting on his SNP activity —"I look back with real pleasure to events in which I could and did play a useful part — chairing an election meeting, supplying and running a garden stall at sales of work, organising an Aberdour Branch Burns Supper, running a candidate around the constituency, canvassing in many towns on the East Coast — for me they have been thirty glorious years. Now I hope that Scotland and her reconvened Parliament will be found worthy of those generations of happy warriors and foot soldiers. It is up to them now to build on that and carry us forward to Independence".

Andrew Lowe was among the best of those "happy warriors and foot soldiers". No job went undone when Andrew turned his hand to it — if he said he would do something, it was done and always with humour, joy and enthusiam.

He was, as his minister described him at the Thanksgiving Celebration in a packed Warriston Crematorium, "an artist, poet, gardener, successful businessman, true patriot, loving family man and a real gentleman in the truest sense of the word". That he was.

After moving to Edinburgh in 1985, Andrew kept in touch with his many friends in Fife and was a regular attender at the Alexander III Commemoration at Pettycur, Kinghorn. Indeed he once chided me that he wasn’t coming because I had not invited him in Scots! That year Andrew not only attended but after laying the wreath read his splendid poem "Coronach" in memory of the dead King.

Due to his interest in the Guid Scots Tung, Andrew and his wife Irene were among the supporters of the Scots Poetry events held by "Scots Gladnost" and then "Merchants o Renoun" in Edinburgh.

Andrew’s belief in a Free Scotland never wavered nor did his strong Christian faith, which sustained him through his long illness. He died peacefully in the bosom of his loving family.

Andrew D Lowe will be missed but remembered with affection by all who knew him. Andrew’s life was a shining example of all that is best in Scotland, the Scottish people and Scottish Nationalism.

Scots Independent Newspaper April 2000

Peter D Wright

Andrews at the Alexander III Commemoration at Petticur, listening to guest speaker James Halliday.

Coronach

Ae wild March nicht lang syne
a storm ragit roun the castle craig.
The north wind, chairgit wi sleet an snaw,
thunnert owre the lofty pile
wi sic interperate sa vagerie
as wad gar the bravest fear
at Juidegment Day wis like tae daw.

On this faroushie nicht a companie
o fowr weel-mountit chiels
cam clappering thru Embro toun
an aen the gait til the Queen ‘s ferrie.

As they cam skelpin doun
thru the dark o the Hawes Brae
thir herts froze at the sicht an soun
o Forth’s jawin waves an fleein spray
but wadna be hinnrt bi the angry tide
an laundit unskaithed on tither side.

Nae mune nor fient a stairn
tae gie them licht
as they drave on
thru drumlie cleuch an mirky howe,
bi knarled pine an jimpy birk
at huddled roun St. Bridget’s kirk
as tho tae guard it frae the storm.

Straucht thru the Barony o Aberdour
bi the burn an the strong tower
they rade wi ne’er a word til tither
up the stey brae, droukit an forforn.

The waur pairt o thir journie owre
an scarce twa mile frae Kinghorn ‘s tower,
Wi promise o the marriage bed,
ae moment pairted frae his fieres,
his fair forfechen mount
stoitert owre the scaurs
an the King o Scots lay deid.

Andrew Lowe

Listen to this poem here in Real Audio

Enjoy a Scottish Joke every week and listen to it as well

Two ship-wrecked Scots had been hanging on for hours to an upturned boat and were almost at the end of their tether. Jock had been a wild loun in his day and realising he might not be able to hold out much longer, began to recount his past misdeeds and to vow that if he escaped, he would in future lead an entirely new life.

Suddenly there was a shout from his comrade in distress.

" Haud on Jock ! Dinna commit yersel. I think I see land. "

Gordon & Carmen Wright

Second-hand, Fine & Rare Scottish Books.

Regular catalogues issued by email. To subscribe, email us at: Gordon.Wright11@btopenworld.com

Gordon Wright’s Scottish Photo Library

Spanning forty-five years and featuring a wide variety of illustrations in colour and black and white covering all aspects of Scottish life from Orkney to the Border country. Thousands of personality portraits.

Images for reproduction. Prints for collectors.

Gordon.Wright11@btopenworld.com