Page images

Yet, Caledonia! belov'd are thy mountains,

Round their white summits though elements war,
Though cataracts foam, 'stead of smooth flowing fountains,
I sigh for the valley of dark Lochin y Garr.


Ah! there my young footsteps in infancy wander'd,
My cap was the bonnet, my cloak was the plaid *.
On chieftains long perish'd my memory ponder'd,
As daily I strode through the pine-cover'd glade;
I sought not my home, till the day's dying glory
Gave place to the rays of the bright polar star;
For fancy was cheer'd by traditional story,

Disclos'd by the natives of dark Loch na Garr.


"Shades of the dead! have I not heard your voices
"Rise on the night-rolling breath of the gale?"
Surely the soul of the hero rejoices,

And rides on the wind o'er his own Highland vale.
Round Loch na Garr while the stormy mist gathers,
Winter presides in his cold icy ear,

Clouds there encircle the forms of my fathers,

They dwell in the tempests of dark Loch na Garr.


"Ill starred t, though brave, did no visions foreboding,

[ocr errors]

Tell you that fate had forsaken your cause?"

Ah! were you destin'd to die at Culloden ‡,

Victory crown'd not your fall with applause;
Still were you happy in death's earthly slumber,
You rest with your clan in the caves of Braemar ||,
The pibroch § resounds, to the piper's loud number,
Your deeds, on the echoes of dark Loch na Garr.


This word is erroneously pronounced plad: the proper pronunciation (according to the Scotch) is shewn by the orthography.,

+ I allude here to my maternal ancestors, the "Gordons," many of whom fought for the unfortunate prince Charles, better known by the name of the Pretender. This branca was nearly allied by blood, as well as attachment to the Stuarts. George the ed earl of Huntley, married the princess Anuabella Stuart, daughter of James I. of Scotland. By her he left four sons; the third sir William Gordon, I have the honour to claim as one of my progenitors.

Whether any perished in the battle of Culloden, I am not certain; but as many fell in the insurrection, I have used the name of the principal action, "pars pro toto." A tract of the Highlands so called: there is also a castle at Braemar.

§ A bagpipe.


Years have 'roll'd on, Loch na Garr! since I left you;
Years must elapse, ere I tread you again:
Nature of verdure and flowers has bereft you,

Yet still are you dearer than Albion's plain:
England! thy beauties are tame and domestic,
To one who has rov'd on the mountains afar,
Oh! for the crags that are wild and majestic,
The steep, frowning glories of dark Loch na Garr.

[blocks in formation]

What though we befriendit young Charlie?
To tell it I dinna think shame;

Poor lad! he came to us but barely,

An' reckoned our mountains his hame:
"Tis true that our reason forbade us,
But tenderness carried the day;
Had Geordie come friendless amang us,
Wi' him we had a' gane away.-
Sword an' buckler an' a',

Buckler an' sword an' a';

For George will encounter the devil,
Wi' sword an' buckler anʼ a’.

An' Q I wad eagerly press him
The keys of the East to retain;
For should he gi'e up the possession,
We'll soon hae to force them again;
Than yield up an inch wi' dishonour,
Though it war my finishin' blow,
He ay may depend on Macdonald,
Wi's Highlandmen all in a row.→
Knees an' elbows an' a',
Elbows an' knees an' a';
Depend upon Donald Macdonald,
His knees an' elbows an' a'.

If Bonapart land at Fort William,
Auld Europe nae langer shall grane;
I laugh, whan I think how we'll gall him
Wi' bullet, wi' steel, an' wi' stane;
Wi' rocks o' the Nevis an' Gairy,
We'll rattle him aff frae our shore;
Or lull him asleep in a cairney,
An' sing him-Lochaber no more!
Stanes an' bullets au' a',
Bullets an' stanes an' a';
We'll finish the Corsican callan',
Wi' stanes an' bullets an' a'.

The Gordon is gude in a hurry;
An' Campbell is steel to the bane;

An' Grant, an' Mackenzie, an' Murray,
An' Cameron will hurkle to nane.
The Stuarts are sturdy an' wannle,
An' sae is Macleod an' Mackay;
An' I, their gude-brither Macdonald
Sal ne'er be the last i' the fray.-


[merged small][merged small][ocr errors][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small]

A Prussian goose play'd fast and loose,
In hope to share the plunder;
At length the cock gave him a shock,
That brought him fairly under.

With Pope and Turk he made such work
As threw them on their knees, sir;
And now the cross and crescent vie
Which most this cock shall please, sir.

A bull-dog staunch once seiz'd his haunch,
And tore his pinions shorter;

"Hold, hold," he cried, "I'll keep the land,"
"And you shall keep the water."

"I'm chanticleer, your friend, whene'er
"You stand in need of favour:"
Then stalk'd away, as who should say,
"Now mind your good behaviour!"

He thought John Bull so gross a fool,
That he'd approve the notion;
And then, whene'er his wings had grown,
He'd plunge him in the ocean.

[merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][ocr errors]

By Pope, seems to be meant, an animal that has two horns like a lamb, and a vai

like a dragon. By Turk, the author probably intended a turkey cock.

« EelmineJätka »