Ruin's wheel has driven o'er us, Not a hope that dare attend, But a world without a friend! Supposed to refer to the story of James Drummond, Earl of Strathallan, who escaped to France after the '45. "The air," says Burns, "is the composition of one of the worthiest and best-hearted men living-Allan Masterton, schoolmaster in Edinburgh. As he and I were both sprouts of Jacobitism, we agreed to dedicate the words and air to that cause. To tell the matter of fact, except when my passions were heated by some accidental cause, my Jacobitism was merely by way of vive la bagatelle." THE CHEVALIER'S LAMENT. BURNS. THE small birds rejoice in the green leaves returning, But what can give pleasure, or what can seem fair, The deed that I dared could it merit their malice, His right are these hills, and his right are these valleys, But 'tis not my sufferings, thus wretched, forlorn, CAM' YE BY ATHOLE BRAES? HOGG. CAM' ye by Athole braes, lad wi' the philabeg, Down by the Tummel, or banks of the Garry? Saw ye my lad with his bonnet and white cockade, Leaving his mountains to follow Prince Charlie ? Charlie, Charlie, wha wadna follow thee? Lang hast thou loved and trusted us fairly! Charlie, Charlie, wha wadna follow thee? King of the Highland hearts, bonny Prince Charlie I hae but ae son, my brave young Donald; But if I had ten, they should follow Glengarry: I'll to Lochiel and Appin, and kneel to them, Charlie, Charlie, &c. Down through the Lowlands, down wi' the Whigamore, Loyal true Highlanders, down wi' them rarely! Ronald and Donald, drive on wi' the brave claymore Over the necks of the foes of Prince Charlie! WHA'LL BE KING BUT CHARLIE? ANONYMOUS. THE news frae Moidart cam' yestreen, Will soon gar mony ferlie; For ships o' war hae just come in, And landed Royal Charlie. Come through the heather, around him gather, For wha'll be king but Charlie? Come through the heather, around him gather: The Highland clans wi' sword in hand, The Lowlands a' baith great and sma', There's ne'er a lass in a' the land Then here's a health to Charlie's cause, And be't complete and early; His very name my heart's blood warms To arms! for Royal Charlie! Come through, &c. HE'S OWRE THE HILLS THAT I LO'E WEEL. ANONYMOUS. HE'S Owre the hills that I lo'e weel, The whigs may scoff, the whigs may jeer, He's owre the hills, &c. His right these hills, his right these plains, He's owre the hills, &c. Sae noble a look, sae princely an air, Then draw the claymore for Charlie, then fight He's owre the hills, &c. The REV. JOHN SKINNER, episcopal minister of Longside, near Peterhead, Aberdeenshire, born 1721, died 1807. COME, gi'e's a sang, Montgomery cried, And lay your disputes all aside, What signifies't for folks to chide For what's been done before them? Let Whig and Tory all agree, Whig and Tory, Whig and Tory, To drop their Whig-mig-morum ; Let Whig and Tory all agree To spend the night in mirth and glee, The reel of Tullochgorum. T |