But we hae yon heaven, sae bonny and blue, And laverocks skimming out o'er us;
The breezes of health and the valleys of dewO the world is all before us!
WHY WEEPS YON HIGHLAND MAID?
WHY weeps yon Highland maid
Over the tartan plaid—
Is it a pledge of care,
Or are the blood drops there?
Tell me, thou hind of humble seeming,
Why the tears on her cheek are gleaming,
Why should the young and fair
Thus weep unpitied there ?
He is, alas! no more:
He and his loyal clan were trodden
Down by slaves on dark Culloden.
Well o'er a lover's pall,
Well make the tear-drops fall!
Where now her clansman true,
Where is the bonnet blue,
Where the claymore that broke
Fearless through fire and smoke?
Not one gleam by glen or river,
It lies dropp'd from the hand for ever.
Stranger, our fate deplore,
Our ancient name's no more!
My Emma, my darling, from winter's domain
Let us fly to the glee of the city again,
Where a day never wakes but some joy it renews,
And a night never falls but that joy it pursues;
Where the dance is so light, and the hall is so bright,
And life whirls onward one round of delight.
Would we feel that we love and have spirits refined, We must mix with the world, and enjoy humankind.
Mute nature is lovely in earth and in sky,
It cheers the lone heart and enlivens the eye;
But no where can beauty and dignity shine,
So as in the human face fair and divine. ·
'Mongst these could I love thee, and that love enjoy,
But, ah! in the wilderness fond love would cloy;
To the homes of our kindred our spirits must cling,
And away from their bosoms at last take their wing!
LIE still, my love, lie still and sleep,
Long is thy night of sorrow;
Thy maiden of the mountain deep
Shall meet thee on the morrow.
But O, when shall that morrow be,
When my true love shall waken,
When shall we meet, refined and free, Amid the moorland braken ?
Full low and lonely is thy bed,
The worm even flies thy pillow;
Where now the lips, so comely red,
That kiss'd me 'neath the willow?
O, I must smile, and weep the while,
Amid my song of mourning,
At freaks of man in life's short span,
To which there's no returning.
Lie still, my love, lie still and sleep,
Hope lingers o'er thy slumber;
What though thy years beneath the steep
Should all its flowers outnumber;
Though moons steal o'er, and seasons fly
On time-swift wing unstaying,
Yet there's a spirit in the sky,
That lives o'er thy decaying.
In domes beneath the water-springs
No end hath my sojourning;
And to this land of fading things
Far hence be my returning.
For all the spirits of the deep
Their long last leave are taking.
Lie still, my love, lie still and sleep
Till the last morn is breaking.
DONALD'S gane up the hill hard an' hungry,
Donald's come down the hill wild an' angry;
Donald will clear the gouk's nest cleverly;
Here's to the king an' Donald M'Gillavry!
Come like a weigh-bauk, Donald M'Gillavry,
Come like a weigh-bauk, Donald M'Gillavry;
Balance them fair, an' balance them cleverly,
Off wi' the counterfeit, Donald M'Gillavry!
Donald's come o'er the hill trailin' his tether, man,
As he war wud, or stang'd wi' an ether, man;
When he gaes back, there's some will look merrily;
Here's to King James an' Donald M'Gillavry,
Come like a weaver, Donald M'Gillavry,
Come like a weaver, Donald M'Gillavry;
Pack on your back an elwand o' steelary,
Gie them full measure, my Donald M‘Gillavry !
Donald has foughten wi' reif and roguery,
Donald has dinner'd wi' banes an' beggary;
Better it war for whigs an' whiggery
Meeting the deevil than Donald M'Gillavry.
Come like a tailor, Donald M'Gillavry,
Come like a tailor, Donald M'Gillavry;
Push about, in an' out, thimble them cleverly-
Here's to King James an' Donald M'Gillavry!
Donald's the callant that bruiks nae tangleness,
Whigging an' prigging an' a' newfangleness;
They maun be gane, he winna be baukit, man,
He maun hae justice, or rarely he'll tak it, man.
Come like a cobler, Donald M'Gillavry
Come like a cobler, Donald M'Gillavry;
Bore them, an' yerk them, an' lingel them cleverly-Up wi' King James an' Donald M'Gillavry!
Donald was mumpit wi' mirds and mockery,
Donald was blindit wi' bladds o' property;
Arles ran high, but makings war naething, man ;
Gudeness, how Donald is flyting an' fretting, man!
Come like the deevil, Donald M'Gillavry,
Come like the deevil, Donald M'Gillavry;
Skelp them an' scadd them pruved sae unbritherlyUp wi' King James an' Donald M'Gillavry!
AIR-" Maid of the Valley."
O'ER the ocean bounding,
Other lands surrounding,
Love, I will think of thee!
Though new skies me cover,
And other stars shine over,
Yet thou art still with me.
When, at morn or even,
Low I kneel to Heaven,
Be my sins forgiven
As my love shall be !
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