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FAREWELL, THOU FAIR DAY.
BURNS. Air-"My lodging is on the cold ground."
FAREWELL, thou fair day, thou green earth, and ye skics,
Farewell, loves and friendships, ye dear tender ties!
Thou grim king of terrors, thou life's gloomy foe,
Go teach them to tremble, fell tyrant! but know
Thou strik'st the dull peasant, he sinks in the dark,
Thou strik'st the young hero, a glorious mark,
He falls in the blaze of his fame.
In the field of proud honour, our swords in our hands,
While victory shines on life's last ebbing sands,
Oh, who would not die with the brave!
This song, written by Burns to a Highland air called "Oran an oig," is now usually adapted to the English melody of "My lodging is on the cold ground," an air also claimed by the late Thomas Moore as Irish, and for which he wrote the beautiful song, "Believe me, if all those endearing young charms." The original song of "The mad shepherdess," whose lodging was on the cold ground, was sung in Davenant's comedy of "The Rivals," produced in London in 1688. "As this song," says Mr. Chappell, in his valuable collection of " Ancient English Airs," "has been published by Moore in his Irish Melodies,' the editor wishes to state it as the opinion of Mr. Bunting, who has devoted his life to the collection of Irish music; of Mr. Wade, who has also made it a particular study; of Mr. Edward Taylor, the Gresham leeturer; of Dr. Crotch, Mr. Ayrton, and many other eminent musical antiquaries, that from internal evidence of the tune itself, it is not Irish, but English; nor indeed has he hitherto met with any difference of opinion amongst musicians upon the subject. About the time that it was printed in 'Moore's Irish Melodies,' it was also published (in Dublin) in Clifton's British Melodies.'"
The late Sir Henry R. Bishop often asserted his positive belief that neither the Scotch nor the Irish had any true claim to this fine melody, which he held to be unmistakably English.
DOES HAUGHTY GAUL INVASION THREAT?
BURNS. April 1795.
DOES haughty Gaul invasion threat?
Then let the loons beware, sir;
And volunteers on shore, sir.
The Nith shall run to Corsincon,
Oh, let us not, like snarling curs,
The kettle o' the kirk and state,
Perhaps a clout may fail in't;
Our fathers' blood the kettle bought,
And who would dare to spoil it?
The wretch that would a tyrant own,
And the wretch, his true-born brother,
May they be damn'd together!
But while we sing "God save the king!"
This song was written by Burns to the English air of "Push about the jorum." The Scotch melody of "The barrin' of our door" was afterwards found for it..
LAND OF MY FATHERS.
DR. JOHN LEYDEN. The music by R. A. SMITH.
Nor golden apples glimmer from the tree;
Proud of his laws, tenacious of his right,
Then, Jedworth, though thy ancient choirs shall fade,
And time lay bare each lofty colonnade,
PIBROCH OF DONUIL DHU.
SIR WALTER SCOTT.
Written for Mr. Thomson's Collection, on the return of the Highland regiment
PIBROCH of Donuil Dhu,
Pibroch of Donuil,
Hark to the summons;
Come in your war array,
Gentles and commons!
Come from deep glen and
From mountain so rocky;
The war-pipe and pennon
And true heart that wears one;
Come every steel blade,
And strong hand that bears one!
Leave the deer, leave the steer,
Come as the winds come
When forests are rended;
Come as the waves come
When navies are stranded.
Faster come, faster come,
Faster and faster,
Chief, vassal, page, and groom,
Tenant and master.
Fast they come, fast they come;
Blended with heather.
Cast your plaids, draw your blades,
Forward each man set:
Pibroch of Donuil Dhu,
Now for the onset!
MARCH, march, Ettrick and Teviotdale!
Why, my lads, dinna ye march forward in order?
All the blue bonnets are over the Border.
Mount and make ready, then, sons of the mountain glen
Come from the hills where your hirsels are grazing;
When the blue bonnets came over the Border.
The above spirited song, by Sir Walter Scott, was founded upon "General Leslie's march to Longmarston Moor," which appeared in Allan Ramsay's "Tea-Table Miscellany," where it is marked as ancient, and as one of which Ramsay neither knew the age nor the author. The old song is of little or no merit, but is inserted here as