I've heard them liltin', at the ewe milkin',
Lasses a-liltin' before dawn of day.
Now there's a moanin', on ilka green loanin'.
The flowers of the forest are a' wede away.

As boughts in the mornin', nae blithe lads are scornin',
Lasses are lonely and dowie and wae.
Nae daffin', nae gabbin', but sighin' and sobbin',
Ilk ane lifts here leglin, and hies her away.

At e'en in the gloamin', naw swankes are roamin',
'Mang stacks wi' the lasses at bogle to play.
But ilk maid sits drearie, lamentin' her dearie,
The flowers of the forest are a'wede away.

 

 

 

William S. McLeod, Jr.
15 October 1924-11 January 2009

William "Bill" McLeod served as a founding member and President of the Scottish Society of Central California; having been the first Chief of the Fresno Highland Games, formerly held at Coombs Ranch. He had helped launch the Kirkin of the Tartan ceremony held annually near the time of the Games. He had also been Regional Vice President of the Clan MacLeod Society, USA. Bill and his wife Alice served as hosts to many a guest from the Clan and organized several MacLeod dinners to gather their Clansmen together.
Having served in WWII, he was stationed in England and flew 36 missions over Germany as a B-17 pilot with the 303rd Bomb Group 8th Air Force. He also served as a transport pilot for the Berlin Airlift until his return to the States in 1950. Bill kept in touch with his Air Force compatriots, having been President of the 303rd Bomb Group Assn and attending many reunions until health issues forced him to retire from those activities.
He was preceded in death by his wife of 60 years, Alice McLeod and eldest daughter, Julie

In har'st at the shearin' nae youths now are jeerin'
Bandsters are runkled, and lyart, or grey.
At fair or at preachin', nae wooin', nae fleecin',
The flowers of the forest are a' wede away.

Dool for the order sent our lads to the Border,
the English for ance by guile wan the day.
The flowers of the forest, that fought aye the foremost,
The prime of our land lie cauld in the clay.

We'll hae nae mair liltin', at the ewe milkin',
Women and bairns are dowie and wae.
Sighin' and moanin' on ilka green loanin',
The flowers of the forest are all wede away.

The Flowers of the Forest