The Yew Tree

A mile frae Pentcaitland, on the road to the sea
 Stands a yew tree a thousand years old
 And the old women swear by the grey o' their hair
 That it knows what the future will hold
 For the shadows of Scotland stand round it
 'Mid the kail and the corn and the kye
 All the hopes and the fears of a thousand long years
 Under the Lothian sky
 Did you look through the haze o' the lang summer days
 Tae the South and the far English border
 A' the bonnets o' steel on Flodden's far field
 Did they march by your side in good order
 Did you ask them the price o' their glory
 When you heard the great slaughter begin
 For the dust o' their bones would rise up from the stones
 To bring tears to the eyes o' the wind
 Not once did you speak for the poor and the weak
 When the moss-troopers lay in your shade
 To count out the plunder and hide frae the thunder
 And share out the spoils o' their raid
 But you saw the smiles o' the gentry
 And the laughter of lords at their gains
 When the poor hunt the poor across mountain and moor
 The rich man can keep them in chains
 Did you no' think tae tell when John Knox himsel'
 Preached under your branches sae black
 To the poor common folk who would lift up the yoke
 O' the hops and priests frae their backs
 But you knew the bargain he sold them
 And freedom was only one part
 For the price o' their souls was a gospel sae cold
 It would freeze up the joy in their hearts
 And I thought as I stood and laid hands on your wood
 That it might be a kindness to fell you
 One kiss o' the axe and you're freed frae the racks
 O' the sad bloody tales that men tell you
 But a wee bird flew out from your branches
 And sang out as never before
 And the words o' the song were a thousand years long
 And to learn them's a long thousand more
 Last
 My bonnie yew tree