Ultonia's old heroes awoke at the call, And renew'd the wild pomp of the chase and the hall; And the standard of Fion flash'd fierce from on high, Like a burst of the sun when the tempest is nigh. It seem'd that the harp of green Erin once more Could renew all the glories she boasted of yore. Yet why at remembrance, fond heart, shouldst thou burn? They were days of delusion, and cannot return. But was she, too, a phantom, the Maid who stood by, JOCK OF HAZELDEAN. (1816.) 'WHY weep ye by the tide, ladie? Sae comely to be seen'— 'Now let this wilfu' grief be done, And dry that cheek so pale; And listed my lay, while she turn'd Young Frank is chief of Errington, from mine eye? Was she, too, a vision, just glancing to view, Then dispersed in the sunbeam, or melted to dew? Oh would it had been so,-oh! would that her eye Had been but a star-glance that shot through the sky, And her voice, that was moulded to melody's thrill, And lord of Langley-dale; His step is first in peaceful ha', His sword in battle keen ' But aye she loot the tears down fa' For Jock of Hazeldean. 'A chain of gold ye sall not lack, Nor braid to bind your hair; Nor mettled hound, nor managed hawk, Nor palfrey fresh and fair; Had been but a zephyr, that sigh'd And you, the foremost o' them a', and was still! Shall ride our forest queen' Oh! would it had been so,--not then But aye she loot the tears down fa' this poor heart Had learn'd the sad lesson, to love and to part; To bear, unassisted, its burthen of care, While I toil'd for the wealth I had no one to share. Not then had I said, when life's summer was done, And the hours of her autumn were For Jock of Hazeldean. The kirk was deck'd at morning-tide, And dame and knight are there. They sought her baith by bower and ha'; The ladie was not seen! Take the fame and the riches ye She's o'er the Border, and awa' brought in your train, And restore me the dream of my spring-tide again.' Wi' Jock of Hazeldean. 1 The first stanza is ancient. PIBROCH OF DONUIL DHU. (1816.) PIBROCH of Donuil Dhu, Pibroch of Donuil, Gentles and commons. True heart that wears one, The flock without shelter; Leave the corpse uninterr'd, The bride at the altar; Leave the deer, leave the steer, Leave nets and barges: Come with your fighting gear, Broadswords and targes. Come as the winds come, when Forests are rended, Come as the waves come, when Faster and faster, Fast they come, fast they come; Cast your plaids, draw your blades, Forward, each man, set! Pibroch of Donuil Dhu, Knell for the onset! NORA'S VOW. (1816.) From the Gaelic.) HEAR What Highland Nora said,-- 'A maiden's vows,' old Callum spoke, 'The swan,' she said, 'the lake's clear breast May barter for the cagle's nest; The Awe's fierce stream may backward turn, Ben-Cruaichan fall, and crush Kilchurn; Our kilted clans, when blood is high, Before their foes may turn and fly; But I, were all these marvels done, Would never wed the Earlie's son.' Still in the water-lily's shade Her wonted nest the wild-swan made; Ben-Cruaichan stands as fast as ever, Still downward foams the Awe's fierce river; To shun the clash of foeman's steel No Highland brogue has turn'd the heel; But Nora's heart is lost and won, -She's wedded to the Earlie's son! Come then, Grigalach, come then, Grigalach, MACGREGOR'S GATHERING. (1816.) THE Moon's on the lake, and the mist's on the brae, And the Clan has a name that is nameless by day; Then gather, gather, gather, Gather, gather, gather, &c. Our signal for fight, that from monarchs we drew, Must be heard but by night in our vengeful haloo! Then haloo, Grigalach! haloo, Haloo, haloo,haloo, Grigalach, &c. Glen Orchy's proud mountains, Coalchuirn and her towers, Glenstrae and Glenlyon no longer are ours; We're landless, landless, landless, Landless, landless, landless, &c. But doom'd and devoted by vassal and lord, MacGregor has still both his heart and his sword! Then courage, courage, courage, Courage, courage, courage, &c. If they rob us of name, and pursue us with beagles, Give their roofs to the flame, and their flesh to the eagles! Then vengeance, vengeance, vengeance, Grigalach! ish for ever! Come then, come then, come then, &c. Through the depths of Loch Katrine the steed shall career, O'er the peak of Ben-Lomond the galley shall steer, And the rocks of Craig-Royston like icicles melt, Ere our wrongs be forgot, or our vengeance unfelt! Then gather, gather, gather, Gather, gather, gather, &c. VERSES ON THE OCCASION OF A BANQUET GIVEN BY THE CITY OF EDINBURGH TO THE GRAND-DUKE NICHOLAS OF RUSSIA AND HIS SUITE, DEC. 19, 1816.) GOD protect brave Alexander, O'er his just resentment victor, MacGregor, despite them, shall flour- Mutual interests, hopes, and danger, Link us with thy native land. Hand in hand while peace is smiling, Of Monarch who can amble round his In the far eastern clime, no great Famed mariner! whose merciless nar Beheld all others fix'd upon the ground; He deign'd to tell them over to a Whose ears received the same unvaried porter: The last edition see, by Long. and Co., 'Sultaun! thy vassal hears, and he Rees, Hurst, and Orme, our fathers phrase, obeys !' fancy strike All have their tastes-this may the in the Row. IV. Of such grave folks as pomp and Serendib found, deem not my tale grandeur like; The hint of this tale is taken from La Camiscia Magica, a novel of Giam Battista Casti, a fiction This Sultaun, whether lacking con tradiction A sort of stimulant which hath its uses, To raise the spirits and reform the juices, More and yet more in deep array appear, And some the front assail, and some Their remedies to reinforce and vary Sovereign specific for all sorts of cures In my wife's practice, and perhaps in yours,) The Sultaun lacking this same whole- Till the tired Monarch, though of some bitter, Or cordial smooth for prince's palate Yet dropt, to recompense their fruit fitter words grown chary, less labour, Or if some Mollah had hag-rid his Some hint about a bowstring or a sabre. There lack'd, I promise you, no longer dreams With Degial, Ginnistan, and such wild themes Belonging to the Mollah's subtle craft, I wot not-but the Sultaun never laugh'd, Scarce ate or drank, and took a melancholy That scorn'd all remedy-profane or holy; In his long list of melancholies, mad, Or mazed, or dumb, hath Burton none so bad1. Physicians soon arrived, sage, ware, and tried, As e'er scrawl'd jargon in a darken'd room; speeches To rid the palace of those learned leeches. VI. Then was the council call'd: by their advice (They deem'd the matter ticklish all, and nice, And sought to shift it off from their own shoulders) Tartars and couriers in all speed were sent To call a sort of Eastern Parliament Of feudatory chieftains and freeholders: Such have the Persians at this very day, With heedful glance the Sultaun's My gallant Malcolm calls them cou Peep'd in his bath, and God knows I'm not prepared to show in this slight And then in solemn accent spoke That to Serendib the same forms their doom, 'His majesty is very far from well.' Then each to work with his specific fell: The Hakim Ibrahim instanter brought belong, E'en let the learn'd go search, and tell me if I'm wrong. VII. His unguent Mahazzim al Zerdukkaut, The Omrahs', each with hand on |