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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=506415" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>A Fiddler In The North</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=506415" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Amang the trees, where humming bees, <br>At buds and flowers were hinging, O, <br>Auld Caledon drew out her drone, <br>And to her pipe was singing, O: <br>'Twas Pibroch, Sang, Strathspeys, and Reels, <br>She dirl'd them aff fu' clearly, O: <br>When there cam' a yell o' foreign squeels, <br>That dang her tapsalteerie, O. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=506415" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Their capon craws an' queer "ha, ha's," <br>They made our lugs grow eerie, O; <br>The hungry bike did scrape and fyke, <br>Till we were wae and weary, O: <br>But a royal ghaist, wha ance was cas'd, <br>A prisoner, aughteen year awa', <br>He fir'd a Fiddler in the North, <br>That dang them tapsalteerie, O.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Robert+Burns">Robert Burns</a></strong></div>

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