'Farewell the bright clouds that on Quillan 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! The Banshee's wild voice sings the death-dirge before me, The pall of the dead for a mantle hangs o'er me; Cha till, cha till, cha till sin tuille! Cha till, cha till, cha till sin tuille, Cha till, cha till, cha till sin tuille, Gea thillis Macleod, cha till Mackrimmon !' DONALD CAIRD'S COME AGAIN. (1818.) CHORUS. DONALD CAIRD's come again! Donald Caird can lilt and sing, Or crack a pow wi' ony man ;— Donald Caird's come again! Donald Caird can wire a maukin, But my heart shall not flag, and my Water-bailiffs, rangers, keepers, nerves shall not shiver, Though devoted I go-to return again never! He can wauk when they are sleepers; Donald Caird's come again! Donald Caird can drink a gill When he's fou he's stout and saucy, Steek the amrie, lock the kist, Donald Caird's come again! On Donald Caird the doom was stern, Donald Caird's come again! EPITAPH ON MRS. ERSKINE. PLAIN, as her native dignity of mind, scroll, Emblem of lovely form and candid soul. "At the fireside.] [2 Hangman's rope.] But, oh! what symbol may avail to tell The kindness, wit, and sense, we loved so well! What sculpture show the broken ties of life, Here buried with the parent, friend, and wife! Or on the tablet stamp each title dear, By which thine urn, EUPHEMIA, claims the tear! Yet taught, by thy meek sufferance, to assume Patience in anguish, hope beyond the tomb, Resign'd, though sad, this votive verse shall flow, And brief, alas! as thy brief span below. LIFE IN THE FOREST. (1822) ON Ettrick Forest's mountains dun 'Tis blithe to hear the sportsman's gun, And seek the heath-frequenting brood Far through the noonday solitude; By many a cairn and trenched mound, Where chiefs of yore sleep lone and sound, And springs, where grey-hair'd shepherds tell, That still the fairies love to dwell. Along the silver streams of Tweed 'Tis blithe along the midnight tide Rock, wood, and scaur, emerging But when friends drop around us in bright, Fling on the stream their ruddy light, And from the bank our band appears Like Genii, arm'd with fiery spears. 'Tis blithe at eve to tell the tale, My blessing on the Forest fair! FAREWELL TO THE MUSE. ENCHANTRESS, farewell, who so oft has decoy'd me, At the close of the evening through woodlands to roam, Where the forester, 'lated, with wonder espied me Explore the wild scenes he was quitting for home. Farewell, and take with thee thy numbers wild speaking The language alternate of rapture and woe: Oh none but some lover, whose heartstrings are breaking, The pang that I feel at our parting can know. Each joy thou couldst double, and when there came sorrow, Or pale disappointment to darken my way, life's weary waning, The grief, Queen of Numbers, thou canst not assuage; Nor the gradual estrangement of those yet remaining, The languor of pain, and the chillness of age. 'Twas thou that once taught me, in accents bewailing, To sing how a warrior' lay stretch'd on the plain, And a maiden hung o'er him with aid unavailing, And held to his lips the cold goblet in vain ; As vain thy enchantments, O Queen of wild Numbers, To a bard when the reign of his fancy is o'er, And the quick pulse of feeling in apathy slumbers— Farewell, then, Enchantress! I meet thee no more! THE MAID OF ISLA. OH, Maid of Isla, from the cliff That looks on troubled wave and sky, Dost thou not see yon little skiff Contend with ocean gallantly? Now beating 'gainst the breeze and surge, And steep'd her leeward deck in foam, Why does she war unequal urge ?— Oh, Isla's maid, she seeks her home. Oh, Isla's maid, yon sea-bird mark, Her white wing gleams through mist and spray, What voice was like thine, that could Against the storm-cloud, lowering sing of to-morrow, Till forgot in the strain was the grief of to-day! dark, As to the rock she wheels away;— [1 Marmion.] 'Come, Tweeddale, true as sword to sheath; Come, Hopetoun, fear'd on fields of death; Come, Clerk', and give your bugle breath; Carle, now the King's come! 'Come, Wemyss, who modest merit aids; Come, Rosebery, from Dalmeny shades; Breadalbane, bring your belted plaids; Carle, now the King's come! 'Come, stately Niddrie, auld and true, Girt with the sword that Minden knew; We have o'er few such lairds as you Carle, now the King's come! 'King Arthur's grown a common crier, He's heard in Fife and far Cantire,"Fie, lads, behold my crest of fire!" Carle, now the King's come! 'Saint Abb roars out, "I see him pass, Between Tantallon and the Bass!" Calton, get out your keeking-glass 2 Carle, now the King's come!' The Carline stopp'd; and, sure I am, For very glee had ta'en a dwam, But Oman help'd her to a dram.— Cogie, now the King's come! Cogie, now the King's come! Cogie, now the King's come! I'se be fou' and ye's be toom, Cogie, now the King's come! PART SECOND. A HAWICK gill of mountain dew, Heised up Auld Reekie's heart, I trow, It minded her of Waterloo Carle, now the King's come! 1 Clerk of Pennycuik, bound by his tenure, when the King came to Edinburgh, to receive him at the Harestone with three blasts on a horn, 2 Landlord of the Waterloo Hotel. Again I heard her summons swell, 'My trusty Provost, tried and tight, Stand forward for the Good Town's right, There's waur than you been made a knight Carle, now the King's come! 'My reverend Clergy, look ye say The best of thanksgivings ye ha'e, And warstle for a sunny day Carle, now the King's come! 'My Doctors, look that you agree, Cure a' the town without a fee; My Lawyers, dinna pike a plea— Carle, now the King's come! 'Come forth each sturdy Burgher's bairn, That dints on wood or clanks on airn, That fires the o'en, or winds the pirnCarle, now the King's come! 'Come forward with the Blanket Blue", Your sires were loyal men and true, As Scotland's foemen oft might rueCarle, now the King's come! 'Scots downa loup, and rin, and rave, We're steady folks and something grave, We'll keep the causeway firm and brave Carle, now the King's come! 'Sir Thomas 4. thunder from your rock, Till Pentland dinnles wi' the shock, And lace wi' fire my snood o' smoke Carle, now the King's come! 3 The Blue Blanket is the standard of the incorporated trades of Edinburgh. 4 Sir Thomas Bradford, then commander of the forces in Scotland. |