'S beag an t-ioghnadh leam truaighe
Thighinn air uaislibh d'a dhuthaich
Mas 'e nach gabh iad dhiot foghluim
Ann a bhi 'g eisdachd d' a chliu ;
Ghabh thu tlachd ann an aoradh
Seinn, is leughadh, is Uirn'

'S cha d'rinn dad do na buadhan-sá
Thu na bu shuairiche 's a' chuirt.

Ni mi 'n t-subseic so fhagail

'S cha 'n ann le ghradh-te na's leòr
Cha bu bhreagach a' moladh
Ged a chanainn an cor

Nan deigheadh d' a bhuadhan gu leir
Chuir an ceill mar bu choir

'S gann gum facadh mi riamh e

Fear a lionadh d' a chota.

The writer has not been able to discover the name of the author of the preceding song; but he was a native of Durness, and belonged to a family renowned in Rob Donn's time for their poetic faculty.

Of more recent songs, perhaps the best known are those of Morchadh an Taghadair. He composed freely, and so unsparing was his satire that, as an old woman put it, "Murdoch was as much feared as the minister." Some time before the Strathnaver evictions, he rented a farm in Mudale, where he acted as oversman" for the local tacksman-hence the name. The "Taghadair" selected the cattle for sale each season, and his office was reckoned a lucrative one. Murdo was, like all poets, rather hot-tempered, and for some supposed slight, quarrelled with his employer, and subsequenty emigrated. The following were composed in praise of her who subsequently became his wife, and who, it seems, had many suitors :—

I.

Air latha dhomhsa, is mi 'n am aonar
Air an raon, 's mi buain an fheoir;

Bha mo leannan mu mo choinneamh
'S bha mi togairt dhol 'na coir.

Hugu, ho, mo dhuil gach la

Ri dhol fathast air a toir.

Cha mi oidhche nall do cheilidh ;
Cha labhradh Ceitidh rium d' a deoin ;
Cha robh Domhnuill rium ach gruamach
Ach bha ghruagach mar bu choir.

Hugu, ho, mo dhuil gach latha
Ri dhol fathast air a toir.

Ged tha Domhnuill nis na'm aghaidh
S ged a thaghadh ès air tòs ;
'Nuair a theid sinn air ar n-aghaidh
Gheibh i 'roghainn aig a stòl.

Hugu, ho, mo dhuil, gach la, &c.

Comhairl' bheirinn ort mar nabuidh,
Gabh no fag i reir d'a dheoin,
Ged robh h'athair leat 's a mathair
So mo lamh 's nach faigh thu 'n còr.
Hugu, ho, mo dhuil gach la, &c.

II.

'S ann chunnaic mise a' mhaighdean,
Air oidhche an tigh Rob Gordon,
Is dh'innsinn a' dealbh dhuit,
Mur gu'n tarraig-te air bord i ;
Bha 'gruaighean mar na caorainn,
Fo 'n aodainn a b'àilte

Is braighead mar an fhaoltinn,
Bu chaomh leam bhi lamh ri.

Cichean corrach baoisgeil,

A rinn mise a thàladh ;

Is mus tig latha cuingis,

Gun cuir mi cainnt an Dàn dhuibh.

Bha Uilleam Mac Rob-Taillear,

Ag aireamh dhomh a buadhan,

Mu'n d'rinn e an Dàn ud d'i,

Nach burrainn bard chuir suarach,
No 'n creidinn's an tràth sin,
Ach pairt do na chuala mi,
Gu fiachadh mac mo mhathair,
Ri cach chuir am buair oirre.

Gach oidhche anns mo leabaidh dhomh,
Gu'm bi an codal gann dhomh,
Breabachadh is teannachadh,
Carachadh, is tionndaidh,

A' sineadh mo lamhan,

Gu mo ghradh tharruing teann rium,
'S mi 'n duil gun robh i t'fhaic' rium,
'S gun agam dhi ach samhla.

D'ar chaidh i gus an ordugh,
Gu'n chomhlaich mi fein i,
Is thubhairt mi ri Seoras,

Gu 'm bu bhoidheach a' cheile i ;
Ach labhair és mo chomhail,
"Nam b'eol dhiutsa a beusan,
Cho maith 's is aithne dhomhsa,
Gum posadh tu fein i."

Moch-a-thrath Di-Ciadaoin,
Nuair thriall i air falbh uainn,
Lean mi fhein a sios i,

Gu uachdar na Garbh-chreig;
Chuir an T-seilich eadar-ruinn,
Is ghrioirach sid ar seanchas,
Is bha mi fhein is Seoras,
Cho bronach, 'nuair dh' fhalbh i

Theid mi fhein is Seoras
Di-Domhnaich d'an t-Searmoid,
Is chi sinn an oigh' ud,
Air 'boichead 's air 'dealbha'd,

Is ged a rachadh seorsachadh,

O'n tòs gus an earboll,

Cha'n fhaghear anns an fhod' ud,

Cho boidheach ri Barbara.

The following was made on a Christmas-gathering occasion in the house of one Macdonald. It used to be in great requisition on festive occasions :

:

Oidche Shamhna an tos a gheamhráidh, ́
'San tigh ud thall bha ceol againn,
Leann math laidir, 'g òl 's ga phaigheadh,
Le Deoch-slainte an Domhnullaich.

Liquor dubailte a bheireadh 'n lùs,
As 'n fhear bu mho a dh'oladh dheth,
A dh'fhagadh glagach, fear bhiodh fann,
Is dh fhagadh gann fear-storasach.

Ach dar a thainig teamhair biadh,
Cha robha sian ann b'fheaird' sinn,
Ach grainn a' sgadain ann an cliabh,
A chaill am briogh mus d'thainig iad.
Fhreagair chailleach is i gu fiata,
Ged tha a bhliadhna so fàiligeach,
Tha grainn da mhuilt againn air sliabh,
Is bheir mi trian do Mhairi dhuibh.

Ach fhreagair 'n Domhnullach gu coir,
'S ann do mo dheoin a thainig sibh,
Mo ghiullan tapaidh bitheadh 'g òl,
Oir tha gu leor am m' fhardaich-sa.

Ged 'se Mairi gheibh na caoirich
Oir tha gaol a mathair dhi,

Am fear bheir Seonaid dheth an fheill
Cha bhi e 'n èis ma thàras mi.

Sin fhreagair Seonaid 's i gu stuaim
Is i air bruaich a sàruichidh
Cha tig Suiridheach d'a ma luaidh
Oir tha fuath mo mhathair dhomh.

Bha mi cho dleasail dhi bho thùs
'S a ghiulaineadh mo naduir dhomh
'S bha mi naoi miosachan na broinn
'S na 's mò cha robh aig Mairi ann.
Cha robh suiridheach thainig ann
Nach robh bròn na dh òl iad ann

Nach d' fhuair maighdeannan g' am miann
Ach cailnean crion an Domhnullaich.

It has already been remarked that the bards of the Reay country disappeared with the sale of the estate, and the consequent disintegration of the Clan. It is to be hoped that the recent renascence of the Clan Mackay may help to waken the

Muses in the solitudes of Reay, and this paper cannot close more suitably than in a song composed by a Durness man on the occasion of their autumn visit. It proves that the divine afflatus still survives in the country of Rob Donn:

"Soraidh slan do 'n phairtidh eibhinn
Thriall an drast' uainn da Dhun-Edin,
Clan Mhic-Aoidh nam fiob 's nam feilibh
Ni iad leubhanta tir nam beann.

Saoil sibh fein nach math na ruintean
Ghluais na Gaidheal ud do'n duthaich so
Sluagh an aite a dheanamh surdail,
Is gabhail curam as a chlann

Cha neil teagamh bho gach sgeàl-a
Tha air aithris mu na phairti ih

Nach dean iad feum d 'a dh' iomadh Gaidheal
'N ám bhi fagail tir nam beann

Chuala mi iomradh anns a Phaipear

Air duine uasail, oigfhear airidh
Tha air aithris dhaibh mar pharant
So mo lamh gu 'n dean e cliu.

Tha Mac Aoidh a rugadh 'n Roghaird
'Na dhuine uasal, buadhach treubhach
Caraid dileas na fir feumnach,

'S toigh leis foghluim thoirt do'n chlann.

'S beag an curam do gach fleasgach

'N tir nam beann, nan gleann 's nan gaisgeach
Fodh an sgiath, nach faigh iad fasgadh

'N àm na h-aire, ma bhios iad stolda.

'S 'n uair a gheibh sin tuillidh fearann
Buala bhò is cupall ghearran,
Garbh an fheidh, is tàrr a bhradain
Bheir sinn barrachd air gach seorsa.

Theid gach Sasunnach chuir dhachaigh
'S thig Mac Aoidh le phiob 's le bhratach
Bheir an duthaich dhuinn o'n Diuc-Chatach
'S bithidh na fleasgaich air an doigh.