The Great Highland Pipes
By Julie McElhinney
Oh instrument of sadness
You play for the mourning,
Washing away the tears
In the hearts of the grieving.
Oh instrument of battle
Marching men into the fight,
Signaling across the distance
Playing in the darkness of night.
Oh instrument of love
Guiding the bride to her groom,
Your sound spreads their joy
All around the wedding room.
Oh instrument of the Ceilidh
Of dancing and jubilation,
Your jigs, reals and hornpipes
Are the joy of God’s creation.
But still your distinct melody
Is only for the chosen sum,
Of music loving laborers
That won’t give up what they’ve begun.
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