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PiBioca of Donuil Dim,

Pibroch of Donuil,
Wake thy wild voice anew,

Summon Clan-Conuil.
Come away, come away,

Hark to the summons!
Come in your war array,

Gentles and commons.

Come from deep glen, and

From mountain so rocky,
The war-pipe and pennon

Are at Inverlochy:
Come every hill-plaid, and

True heart that wears one.
Come every steel blade, and

Stroug hand that bears one.

Leave untended the herd,

The flock without shelter;
Leave the corpse uninterrd,

The bride at the altar;
Leave the deer, leave the steer,

Leave nets and barges;
Come with your fighting gear,

Broadswords and targes.

Come as the winds come, when

Forests arc rended;
Come as the waves come, when

Navies are stranded:

Jte Pibroch of Donald tbe Block.

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Hear what Highland Nora said,
« The Earlie's son I will not wed,
Should all the race of nature die,
And none be left but he and I.
For all the gold, for all the gear,
And all the hinds both far and near,
That ever valour lost or won,
I would not wed the Earlie's son.»

«A maiden's vows,» old Galium spoke,
«Are lightly made, and lightly broke;
The heather on the mountain's height
Begins to bloom in purple light;
The frost-wind soon shall sweep away
That lustre deep from glen and brae;
Yet Nora, ere its bloom be gone,
May blithely wed the Earlie's sou.»

«The swan,» she said, «the lake's clear breast
May barter for the eagle's nest;
The Awe's fierce stream may backward turn,
Ben-Cruaichan fall, and crush Kilchurn
Our kilted clans, when blood is high,
Before their foes may turn and fly;
But I, were all these m:trvcls done,
Would never wed the Earlie's son.»

Still in the water-lily's shade

Her wonted nest the wild-swan made,

Ben-Cruaichan stands as fast as ever,

Still downward fonms the Awe's fierce river

To shun the clash of foeman's steel.

No Highland brogue has turu'd the heel;

But Nora's heart is lost and won,

—She's wedded to the Earlie's son!

■ I will nefer Ro with him.*


Written for dlbyn's Antiiology.

Atn—Tkain a Grigalach.'

These verses are adapted to a very wild, yet lively gathering-tune, used by the MacGrcgors. The severe treatment of this clan, their outlawry, and the proscription of their very name, are alluded to in the ballad.

Tbe moon "s on the lake, and the mist *s on the brae,
And the clan has a name tha t is nameless by day!
■ Then gather, gather, gather, Gregalach!
Gather, gather, gather, etc.

Our signal for fight, that from monarchs we drew,
Must be heard but by night in our vengeful haloo:

Then haloo, Gregalach! haloo, Gregalach!

Haloo, haloo, haloo, Gregalach, etc.

Glen Orchy's proud mountains, Coalchuirn and her

towers, GlenstraeandGlenlyonno longer are ours:

We're landless, landless, landless, Gregalach!

Landless, landless, landless, etc.

But doom'd and devoted by vassal and lord,
Mac-Gregor has still both his heart and his sword:

Then courage, courage, courage, Gregalach,

Courage, courage, courage, etc.

If they rob us of name and pursue us with beagles.
Give their roofs to the (lame, and their flesh to the eagles!

Then vengeance, vengeance, vengeance, Gregalach!

Vengeance, veagcance, vengeance, etc.

WThile there's leaves in the forest, and foam on the river,
Mac-Grrgor, despite them, shall flourish for ever!
Come then, Gregalach, come then, Gregalach,
Come then, come then, come then, etc.

Through the depths of Loch Katrine the steed shall career,
O'er the peak of Ben Lomond the galley shall steer,
And the rocks of Craig RoyMon like icicles melt,
Ere our wrongs be forgot, or our vengeance unfelt!

Then gather, gather, gather,Gregalach!

Gather, gather, gather, etc.

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Donald Caird can lilt and sing.
Blithely dance the Hieland fling,
Drink till the gudeman be blind,
Fleech till the gudewife be kind;
Hoop a leglen, clout a pan.
Or.crack a pow wi' ony man;
Tell the news in brugh and glen,
Donald Caird" s come again.

Donald Caird's come again!

Donald Caird's come again!

Tell tiie news in brugh and glen,

Donald Caird 's come again!

Donald Caird can wire a maukin,
Kens the wiles o' dun deer staukin,
Leisters kipper, makes a shift
To shoot a muir-fowl in the drift;
Water-bailiffs, rangers, keepers,
He can wauk when they are sleepers;
Not for bountith or reward
Dare yc mell wi' Donald Caird.

Donald Caird's come again!

Donald Caird's come again!

Gar Die bag-pipes hum amain,

Donald Caird's come again'

Donald Caird can drink a gill
Fast as hostler-wife can fill;
Ilka ane that sells gnde liquor
Kens how Donald bends a bicker.
When he's fou he's stout and saucy.
Keeps the cautle of the eawsey;
Highland chief and Lawland laird.
Maun gi'c room to Donald Caird!
Donald Caird 's come again!
Donald Caird t come again'
Tell tJie news in brugh and glen,
Donald Caird's come again!

Steek the amric, lock the kist.
Else some gear may wed be mist;
Donald Caird Gnds orra things
Where Allan Gregor fand the tings;
Dunts of kebbeck, tails of woo.
Whiles a hen and whiles a sow,
Webs or duds frae hedge or yard—
'Ware the wuddie, Donald Caird!

Donald Caird 's come again!

Donald Caird 's come again.!

Dinna let die sliirra ken

Donald Caird s come again .'

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On Donald Caird the doom was
Craig to tether, legs to aim;
But Donald Curd, wi' mickle study.
Caught the gift to cheat the wuddie
Kings of aim, and bolts of alert.
Fell like ice frae hand and heel!
Watch the sheep in fauld and glen,
Donald Caird's come again!

Donald Caird s come again!

Donald Caird t come again!

Dinna let Vie justice ken

Donald Caird's come again'


Ala—Cin lillmi millt.'

Micikimmoh, hereditary piper to the Laird of Macleod, is >aid to have composed this lament when the Han was about to depart upon a distant and dangerous e*pcdilion. The minstrel was impressed with a belief, which the event verified, that lie was to be slain in the approaching feud; and hence the Gaelic words, « Cha till mi tuille; gedtliillis Macleod,cha tillMacrimmon,* - I shall never return; although Macleod returns, yet Mackrimmon shall never return!.. The piece is but too well known, from its being the strain with which the emigrants from the Vest Highlands and Isles usually take leave of their native shore.

MacLioo's wizard (lag from the gray castle sallies
The rowers are sealed, untnoor'd are the galleys;
Gleam war-aic and broadsword, clang target and quiver.
As Mackrimmon sings, « Farewell loDuu\eoaii for ever!
Farewell to each cliff, on which breakers are foaming,
Farewell each dark glen, in which red deer are roaming;
Farewell lonely Skye, to lake, mountain, and river,
Macleod may return, but Mackrimmon shall never!

« Farewell the bright clouds thalonQuillan are sleeping;
Farewell the bright eyes in the Dun that are weeping;
To each minstrel delusion, farewell!—and for ever—
Mackrimmon departs, to return to you never!
TheitansAeeswild voice sings the death-dirge before me
The pall of the dead for a mantle hangs o'er me;
But my heart shall not Hag, and my nerves shall not

Though devoted I goi— to return again never!

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On Ellrlrk Forest's mountains dun,
T i« blilbe 10 bear the sportsman's gun,
And seek the heath-frequenting brood
Far through the noon-day solitude;
By many a cairn and trenched mound,
Where chiefs of yore sleep lone ami sound,
And springs, where gray-hair';l shepherds tell,
That still the fairies love to dwell.

A long the silver streams of Tweed,
T is blithe the mimic tly 10 lead,
When to the hook the salmon springs,
And the line whistles through ihe rings;

* • We roaafw aoatoro

* Writasa l(Wf • warL'i •hooiinn anil fitbiDg, in wbjdi llie poet baa asvsta eagaawl wila tost* friasos.

The boiling eddy see him try,
Then dashing from the current high,
Till watchful eye and cautious hand
Have led his wasted strength to laud.

T is blithe along the midnight tide,
With stalwart arm the boat to guide;
On high the dazzling blaze to rear,
And heedful plunge the barbed spear;
Kock, wood, and scaur, emerging bright.
Fling on the stream their ruddy light.
And from the bank our band appears
Like genii, arm'd with fiery spears.

T is blithe at eve to tell the talc.

How we succeed, and how we fall,

Whether at Alwyn's ' lordly*mcal,

Or lowlier board of Ashestiel; 3

While the gay tapers cheerly shine,

Bickers the lire, and Hows the.winc—

Days free from thought, and nights from care.

My blessing on the forest fair!

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The sun upon the Weirdlaw-hill,

Iu Ettrick's vale, is sinking sweet; The westlaud wind is hush and still,

The lake lies sleeping at my feet. Yet not the landscape to mine eye

Hears those bright hues lli.ltour.' it bore; Though evening, with her richest dye.

Flames o'er the hills of Ettrick's shore.

With listless look along the plain,

I see Tweed's silver current glide, And coldly mark the holy fane

Of Melrose rise iu ruiu'd pride. The quiet lake, the balmy air,

The hill, the stream, the tower, the tree,— Are they still such as once lliey were.

Or U the dreary change in me?

Alas, the warp'd and broken board,

How can it bear the painter's dye!
The harp of strain'd and tuneless chord,

How to the minstrel's skill reply!
To aching .-yes each landscape lowers.

To feverish pulse each gale blows chill, And Araby's or Eden's bowers

Were barren as this moorland bill.

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Am—TU Maid of Ith. Written for Mr George Thomsons Scottish Melodies.

O Maid of Isln, from the cliff,

Thai looks on troubled wave and sky,
Dosl thou not sec yon little skiff

Contend with ocean gallantlyl
Now beating 'flainsl the breeze and surge,

And steep'd her leeward deck in foam,
Why docs she war unequal urge!—

O Isla's maid, she seeks her home.'

0 Isla's maid, yon sea-bird mark,

Ilcr white whuj gleams through mist and spray,
Against the storm-clad, louring dark,

As to the rock she wheels away ;^-
Whcre clouds arc dark and billows rave,

Why to the shelter should she come
Of cliff, exposed to wind and wavct—

O maid of Isla, l is her home.

As breeze and tide to yonder skiff,

Thou 'rl adverse to the suit I bring,
And cold as is yon wintery cliff,

Where sea-birds close their wearied wing.
Yet cold as rock, unkind as wave,

Still, Isla's maid, to thee I come;
For in thy love, or in his grave,

Must Allan Vourich find his home.

Set to music by John Whileficld, Mus. Doc. Cam.

TnK last of our steers on the board has been spread,
And tluvlast Hask of wine in our goblets is red;
Up! up, my brave kinsmen! belt swords and begone!
There are dangers to dare, and there's spoil to be won.

The eyes, that so lately mix'd glances with ours,
For a space must be dim, as they gaze from the towers,
And strive to distinguish, through tempest and gloom,
The prance of the steed, and the toss of the plume.

The rain is descending; the wiud rises loud;
And the moon her red beacon has vcil'd with a cloud:
'T is the belter, iny mates, for the warder's dull eye
Shall in confidence slumber, nor dream we arc nigh.

Our steeds are impatient! I hear my blithe Gray!
There is life in his hoof-clang, and hope in his neigh;
Like the flash of a meteor, the glance of his mane
Shall marshal your march through the darkness and

The drawbridge has dropp'd, the bugle has blown;
One pledge is to quaff yet—then mount and begone !—
To their honour and peace, that shall rest with the

slain; To their health, and their glee, that see Teviot again'


Ala — Taidaitk J/ioaja.

Written for Mr George Thomson's Trick MeWiet

ETBELBtD.orOlfrid, King of Northumberland, buntbesieged Chester in 6t3, and Brockmarl, a BrituJ. prince, advancing to relieve it, the religious of tV neighbouring monastery of Bangor marched in profusion, to pray for the success of their countrymen. But the British being totally defeated, the heathTM view put the monks to the sword, and destroyed their m^ nastcry. The tune to which these verses are adapted, is called the Monks' March, and is supposed lo hati beeu played at their ill-omened procession.

Wiien the heathen trumpet's clang
Round beleagucr'd Chester rang,
Veiled nun nnrl friar gray
March'd from Bangor's fair abbaye:
High their holy anthem sounds,
Cestm's vale the hymn rebounds.
Floating down the sylvan Dee,

0 iniicrerc, Domine I

On the long procession goes.
Glory round their crosses glows,
And the Virgin-mother mild
In their peaceful banner smiled:
Who could think such saintly band
Doom'd to feel u::hallow'd hand!
Such was the divine decree,

0 miserere. Domine.'

Bands that masses only sung,
Hands that ceuscrs only swung,
Met the northern bow and bill,
Heard the war-cry wild and shrill:
Woe to Brockmael's feeble hand,
Woe to Olfrid's bloody brand,
Woe lo Saxon cruelty,

0 miserere, Domine!

Weltering amid warriors slain,
Spuru'd by steeds with bloody mane,
Slaughtcr'd down by heathen blade,
Bangor's peaceful monks are laid i
Word of parting rest nnspoke.
Mass unsung, and bread unbroke;
For their souls for charity,

Siog 0 miserere, Domine'

Bangor! o'er the murder wail.
Long thy ruins told the tale,
Shaller'd towers and broken arch
Long recall'd the woful march:'
On thy shrine no tapers burn.
Never shall thy priests return;
The pilgrim sighs and sings for thee,
0 miserere, Domine.'

'William of Molmelbury Mm. Ibal io kia li«* laaeTM"1"" ruiol of tbo monastery bort- ample wilocw lo ibe *""^_ ilonett by the mataarre.;—• tot eemieoti parie<« wHet"*"* aofrnctiH porticuo, taola turba rodomm qaaalaai"l ^**




WRITTEN in 1817.

0, For a glance of that gay Muse's eye,

That li(;liten'J on Raudeilo's laughing tale, Adii twinkled with a lustre shrewd aud sly,

When Gi.ira Batlista bade her vision hail!J \tl fear not, ladies, the naive detail

Giieo by the natives of that land canorous; Italian lireuse loves to leap the pale,

We Rritoas have the fear of shame before us,
And, if not wise in mirth, at least must be decorous.

la the far eastern clime, no great while since,
Liml Suhaun Solimauu, a mighty prince,
Whose eyes, as oft as they performed their round,
frigid all others fix'd upon the ground;
^ho>eears received the same unvaried phrase,
"Sultaun! thy vassal hears, aud he obeys!*—
All have their tastes—this may the fancy strike
Of Mali grave folks as pomp and grandeur like;
For rac, 1 love the honest heart and warm
Of monarch who car* amble round his farm,
Or, when the toil of state no more annoys,
In chimney-corner seek domestic joys—
I love a prince will bid the bottle pass,
Eiclnnging with his subjects glance and glass;
In Siting time, can, gayest of the gay,
Keep up the jest ancl mingle in the lay—
Such mo oa re lis best our free-horn humours'suit,
But despots must be stately, stern, and mute.

This Solimaun, Serendib had in sway—

And where's Serendib? may some critic say—

Good lack, mine honest friend, consult the chart,

Scare not my Pegasus before I start!

If Itennell has it not, you 11 find, mayhap,

The Wlc laid down in Captain Sindhad's map,—

Famed mariner! whose merciless narrations

wove every friend and kinsman out of patience,

Till, fain 10 find a guest who thought them shorter,

He deigo'd to tell them over to a porter—

The list editiou see by Long, and Co.,

"ww, Hurst, and Orme, our fathers in the Row.

Nrenrlib found, deem not my tale a fiction—
ThtsSultaun, whether lacking contradiction—
(A sort of stimulant which hath its uses,
"0 raise the spirits and reform the juices,
Sovereign specific for oil sort of cures
0 my wife's practice, and perhaps in yours),
TheSuliauu lacking this same wholesome hitter,
Or cordial smooth, for prince's palate fitter—
°rifsomeHollah had hag-rid his dreams

"h Degia|, Ginnistan, and such wild themes
Wonging to the Mollah's subtle craft,
I wot not—but the Sultaun never laugh'd,
Scarce ate or drank, and took a melancholy
TM*i! scorn'd all remedy, profane or holy;
''J his long liu of melancholies, mad,
Or mazed, or dumb, hath Burton none so had.

The hint of tW follow!^ rate Uukco from La Canitcia Ma**. ■ aovel of Giao Battiiu Caul.

Physicians soon arrived, sage, ware, and tried,
As e'er scrawl'd jargon in a darkeu'd room;

With heedful glance the Sultaun's tongue they eyed,

Peep'd in his hath, and God "knows where beside,
And then in solemn accents spoke their doom,

« His majesty is very far from well.*

Then each to work with his specific fell:

The Hakim Ibrahim instnnter brought

His unguent Mahazzim al Zcrdukkaut,'

While Hoompot, a practitioner more wily,

Relied on his Munaskif al fillfily.

More and yet more in deep array appear,

And some the front assail and some the rear:

Their remedies to reinforce and vary,

Came surgeon eke, and eke apothecary;

Till the tired monarch, though of words grown chary,

Yet dropi, to recompense their fruitless labour,

Some hint about a bowstring or a sabre.

There lack'd, I promise you, no longer speeches,

To rid the palace of those learned leeches.

Then was the council call'd—by their advice,
(They deem'd the matter ticklish all, and nice.

And sought to shift it off from their own shoulders),
Tatars and couriers in all speed were sent,
To call a sort of eastern parliament

Of feudatory chieftains and freeholders— Such have the Persians at this very day, My gallant Malcolm calls them eouroultat;* I 'm not prepared to show in this slight song That to Serendib the same forms belong,— E'en let the lcarn'd go search, and tell me if I'm wrong.

The Omrahs,3 each with hand on scymilar,

Gave, like Scmpronius, still their voire for war—

« The sabre of theSultaun in its sheath

Too long has slept, nor own'd the work of death;

Let the Tarn ho urgi bid his .sign it rattle.

Bang the loud gong, and raise the shout of battle!

This dreary cloud that dims our sovereign's day

Shall from his kindled bosom Hit away,

When the hold Loolic wheels his courser round,

And the arm'd elephant shall shake the ground.

Each noble pints to own the glorious summons—

And for the. charges—Lo! your faithful Commons !»

The Riots who attended in their places

(Serendih-language calls a farmer lliot) Look'd ruefully in one another's faces,

From this oration auguring much disquiet, Double assessment, forage, and free quarters: Aud fearing these as China-men the Tartars, Or as thewhisker'd vermin fear the mousers, Each fumbled iu the pocket of his trowscrs.

And next came forth the reverend Convocation,

Bald heads, white beards, and many a turban green,

Imaum and Mollah there of every station,
Santon, Fakir, and Calendar were seen.

Their votes were various—some advised a Mosque
With lilting revenues should be erected,

With seemly gardens and with gay Kiosque,

. To recreate a band of priests selected;

1 For iln-je hard worda ae* d'Hurhelot, or',tho learned editor of

ibe R>cq"-» of ATiccnna.

* See Sir Johu Malcolm'* admirable //ijfyy 0/ Pent*. » Mobility.

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