I've heard them liltin', at the ewe milin',
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.
-
-
Jack Henry McCoig
MCCOIG, JACK HENRY - 72 of New Market, lost his battle with cancer and went to be with the Lord on January 8, 2010. He was a long-time member of New Market Baptist Church where he was treasurer of the Adult Men's Sunday School Class. In 1961 and 1962 he served his country during the Berlin Crisis with the 151st Fighter Interceptor Squadron Tennessee Air National Guard in Berlin, Germany. He retired from the 134th Air Refueling Group at McGhee Tyson Air Base with 27 years of service as Master Sergeant. He was a construction surveyor at the Tennessee Department of Transportation with 42 years of service. Since retirement he has worked with M & M Excavating Company as surveying consultant. He served on the Board of Commissioners for New Market Utility District. He was a member of the Hard Times Street Rods Club and served as treasurer. Preceded in death by parents Pierce Nolan and Mollie McCoig; brother Dan McCoig; sisters Anna and Geneva McCoig and Edith Shrader. He is survived by his loving wife Gwen McCoig, devoted sons Lyle and Clay McCoig and daughter-in-law Denise McCoig; sisters Mamie Hammonds and Billie Jean Chambers.
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
