How wildly sweet is the minstrel's lay, But unless there be love in the heart within, The ditty will charm but sparely. FAREWELL TO GLEN-SHALLOCH. THIS Jacobite song is set to an old Highland melody, by the late Mr R. A. Smith, to whom the vocal melodies of Scotland are more indebted than to any man that ever existed. The song itself was composed from a scrap of a translation in prose of what Mrs Fraser said was a Gaelic song. FAREWELL to Glen-Shalloch, A farewell for ever! Farewell to my wee cot That stands by the river! The fall is loud sounding In voices that vary, And the echoes surrounding Lament with my Mary. I saw her last night, 'Mid the rocks that enclose them, With a child at her knee, And a child at her bosom : I heard her sweet voice 'Mid the depth of my slumber, And the sang that she sung Was of sorrow and cumber. Sleep sound, my sweet babe, There is nought to alarm thee; The sons of the valley No power have to harm thee! I'll sing thee to rest In the balloch untrodden, With a coronach sad For the slain of Culloden! "The brave were betray'd, And the tyrant is daring To trample and waste us, Thy mother no voice has, No word, sign, or song, But the lesson of vengeance! 1 "I'll tell thee, my son, How our laurels are withering ; I'll bind on thy sword When the clansmen are gathering; And never return Till thy country hath won her! "Our tower of devotion Is the home of the reaver; The pride of the ocean Is fallen for ever! The pride of the forest, That time could not weaken, Is trod in the dust, And its honours are shaken ! Rise, spirits of yore, Ever dauntless in danger! For the land that was yours Is the land of the stranger. |