Was in old songs she sang to please her boys.
John Bull, whom, in their years of early strife,
She wont to lead a cat-and-doggish life,

Now found the woman, as he said, a neighbour,
Who look'd to the main chance, declined no
labour,

Loved a long grace, and spoke a northern jargon,
And was d-d close in making of a bargain.

XVIII.

The Sultaun enter'd and he made his leg,
And with decorum curtsy'd sister Peg;
(She loved a book, and knew a thing or two,
And guess'd at once with whom she had to do.).
She bade him "Sit into the fire," and took
Her dram, her cake, her kebbuck from the nook;
Ask'd him "about the news from Eastern parts;
And of her absent bairns, puir Highland hearts!
If peace brought down the price of tea and pepper,
And if the nitmugs were grown ony cheaper ;-
Were there nae speerings of our Mungo Park-
Ye'll be the gentleman that wants the sark?
If ye wad buy a web o' auld wife's spinning,
I'll warrant ye it's a weel-wearing linen."

XIX.

Then up got Peg, and round the house 'gan scuttle
In search of goods her customer to nail,
Until the Sultaun strain'd his princely throttle,
And hollo'd," Ma'am, that is not what I ail.

Pray, are you happy, ma'am, in this snug glen?"Happy?" said Peg; "What for d'ye want to ken?

66

Besides, just think upon this by-gane year,

Grain wadna pay the yoking of the pleugh."What say you to the present?"-"Meal's sae dear,

To mak their brose my bairns have scarce aneugh."

"The devil take the shirt," said Solimaun,

"I think my quest will end as it began.-
Farewell, ma'am; nay, no ceremony,
I beg "-
"Ye'll no be for the linen then?" said Peg.

XX.

Now for the land of verdant Erin,

The Sultaun's royal bark is steering,

The Emerald Isle, where honest Paddy dwells, The cousin of John Bull, as story tells.

For a long space had John, with words of thunder Hard looks, and harder knocks, kept Paddy

under,

Till the poor lad, like boy that's flogg'd unduly,
Had gotten somewhat restive and unruly.
Hard was his lot and lodging, you'll allow.
A wigwam that would hardly serve a sow,
His landlord. and of middle-men two brace,
Had screw'd his rent up to the starving place;
His garment was a top-coat, and an old one,
His meal was a potato, and a cold one;

But still for fun or frolic, and all that,

In the round world was not the match of Pat.

XXI.

The Sultaun saw him on a holiday,

Which is with Paddy still a jolly day:

When mass is ended, and his load of sins Confess'd, and Mother Church hath from her

binns

Dealt forth a bonus of imputed merit,

Then is Pat's time for fancy, whim, and spirit! To jest, to sing, to caper fair and free,

And dance as light as leaf upon the tree.

66

"By Mahomet," said Sultaun Solimaun,

"That ragged fellow is our very man!
Rush in and seize him-do not do him hurt,
But, will he nill he, let me have his shirt."

XXII.

Shilela their plan was wellnigh after baulking,
(Much less provocation will set it a-walking,)
But the odds that foil'd Hercules foil'd Paddy
Whack;

They seized, and they floor'd, and they stripp'd him-Alack!

Up-bubboo! Paddy had not a shirt to his back!!!

And the King, disappointed, with sorrow and shame,

Went back to Serendib as sad as he came.

THE

DANCE OF DEATH.'

I.

NIGHT and morning 2 were at meeting

Over Waterloo ;

Cocks had sung their earliest greeting;
Faint and low they crew,

For no paly beam yet shone

On the heights of Mount Saint John:
Tempest-clouds prolong'd the sway
Of timeless darkness over day;
Whirlwind, thunder-clap, and shower,
Mark'd it a predestined hour.

Broad and frequent through the night
Flash'd the sheets of levin-light;
Muskets, glancing lightnings back,
Show'd the dreary bivouack

Where the soldier lay,

Chill and stiff, and drench'd with rain,
Wishing dawn of morn again,

Though death should come with day,

1 [Originally published in 1815, in the Edinburgh Annual Register, vol. v.]

2 [MS." Dawn and darkness."]

II.

"Tis at such a tide and hour,

Wizard, witch, and fiend, have power,
And ghastly forms through mist and shower
Gleam on the gifted ken;
And then the affrighted prophet's ear
Drinks whispers strange of fate and fear
Presaging death and ruin near

Among the sons of men ;

Apart from Albyn's war-array,
'Twas then grey Allan sleepless lay;
Grey Allan, who, for many a day,
Had follow'd stout and stern,
Where, through battle's rout and reel,
Storm of shot and hedge of steel,
Led the grandson of Lochiel,

Valiant Fassiefern.

Through steel and shot he leads no more,
Low laid 'mid friends' and foemen's gore-
But long his native lake's wild shore,
And Sunart rough, and high Ardgower,
And Morven long shall tell,

And proud Bennevis hear with awe,
How, upon bloody Quatre-Bras,
Brave Cameron heard the wild hurra
Of conquest as he fell.1

1 [See note, vol. viii. p. 260.]