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When he's fou he's stout and saucy,
Keeps the cantle o' the causey;
Hieland chief and Lawland laird
Maun gie room to Donald Caird!
Donald Caird's come again!
Donald Caird's come again!
Tell the news in brugh and glen,
Donald Caird's come again.

Steek the amric, lock the kist,
Else some gear may weel be mis't;
Donald Caird finds orra things
Where Allan Gregor fand the tings1;
Dunts of kebbuck, taits o' woo,
Whiles a hen and whiles a sow,
Webs or duds frae hedge or yaird-
'Ware the wuddie 2, Donald Caird!

Donald Caird's come again!
Donald Caird's come again!
Dinna let the Shirra ken
Donald Caird's come again.

On Donald Caird the doom was stern,
Craig to tether, legs to airn ;
But Donald Caird, wi' mickle study,
Caught the gift to cheat the wuddie;
Rings of airn, and bolts of steel,
Fell like ice frae hand and heel!
Watch the sheep in fauld and glen,
Donald Caird's come again!

Donald Caird's come again!
Donald Caird's come again!
Dinna let the Justice ken,
Donald Caird's come again.

EPITAPH ON MRS. ERSKINE.
(1819.)

PLAIN, as her native dignity of mind,
Arise the tomb of her we have resign'd;
Unflaw'd and stainless be the marble
scroll,

But, oh! what symbol may avail to tell The kindness, wit, and sense, we loved so well!

What sculpture show the broken ties of life,

Here buried with the parent, friend, and wife!

Or on the tablet stamp each title dear, By which thine urn, EUPHEMIA, claims the tear!

Yet taught, by thy meek sufferance,

to assume

Patience in anguish, hope beyond the tomb,

Resign'd, though sad, this votive verse shall flow,

And brief, alas! as thy brief span below.

LIFE IN THE FOREST.

(1822.)

ON Ettrick Forest's mountains dun 'Tis blithe to hear the sportsman's gun, And seek the heath-frequenting brood Far through the noonday solitude; By many a cairn and trenched mound, Where chiefs of yore sleep lone and sound,

And springs, where grey-hair'd shepherds tell,

That still the fairies love to dwell.

Along the silver streams of Tweed
'Tis blithe the mimic fly to lead,
When to the hook the salmon springs,
And the line whistles through the rings;
The boiling eddy see him try,
Then dashing from the current high,
Till watchful eye and cautious hand
Have led his wasted strength to land.

"Tis blithe along the midnight tide

Emblem of lovely form and candid With stalwart arm the boat to guide;

soul.

[1 At the fireside.] [2 Hangman's rope.]

On high the dazzling blaze to rear, And heedful plunge the barbed spear;

Rock, wood, and scaur, emerging But when friends drop around us in

bright,

Fling on the stream their ruddy light, And from the bank our band appears Like Genii, arm'd with fiery spears.

'Tis blithe at eve to tell the tale,
How we succeed, and how we fail,
Whether at Alwyn's lordly meal,
Or lowlier board of Ashestiel;
While the gay tapers cheerly shine,
Bickers the fire, and flows the wine-
Days free from thought, and nights
from care,

My blessing on the Forest fair!

FAREWELL TO THE MUSE.

(1822.)

life's weary waning,

The grief, Queen of Numbers, thou canst not assuage;

Nor the gradual estrangement of those yet remaining,

The languor of pain, and the chillness of age.

'Twas thou that once taught me, in accents bewailing,

To sing how a warrior1 lay stretch'd on the plain,

And a maiden hung o'er him with aid unavailing,

And held to his lips the cold goblet in vain ;

As vain thy enchantments, O Queen of wild Numbers,

To a bard when the reign of his fancy is o'er,

And

the quick pulse of feeling in apathy slumbers

Farewell, then, Enchantress! I meet thee no more!

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THE MAID OF ISLA.
(1822.)

Oн, Maid of Isla, from the cliff

That looks on troubled wave and sky, Dost thou not see yon little skiff

Contend with ocean gallantly? Now beating 'gainst the breeze and surge,

And steep'd her leeward deck in foam,

Why does she war unequal urge?—

Oh, Isla's maid, she seeks her home.

Oh, Isla's maid, yon sea-bird mark, Her white wing gleams through mist and spray,

What voice was like thine, that could Against the storm-cloud, lowering

sing of to-morrow,

Till forgot in the strain was the grief of to-day!

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Where clouds are dark and billows | She's skirling frae the Castle-hill;

rave,

Why to the shelter should she come Of cliff, exposed to wind and wave?Oh, maid of Isla, 'tis her home!

As breeze and tide to yonder skiff.

Thou'rt adverse to the suit I bring. And cold as is yon wintry cliff,

Where sea-birds close their wearied
wing.

Yet cold as rock, unkind as wave,
Still, Isla's maid, to thee I come;
For in thy love, or in his grave,

Must Allan Vourich find his home.

The Carline's voice is grown sae shrill Ye'll hear her at the Canon-mill

Carle, now the King's come!

'Up, bairns!' she cries, baith grit and sma',

| And busk ye for the weapon-shaw! Stand by me, and we'll bang them a'Carle, now the King's come!

'Come from Newbattle's ancient spires, Bauld Lothian, with your knights and squires,

And match the mettle of your sires -Carle, now the King's come!

'You're welcome hame, my Montagu'!

CARLE, NOW THE KING'S COME; Bring in your hand the young Buc

BEING NEW WORDS TO AN AULD SPRING.

On the occasion of George Is visit

to Scotland, August, 1822.

THE news has flown frae mouth to mouth,

The North for ance has bang'd the South;

The deil a Scotsman's die o' drouth, Carle, now the King's come!

CHORUS.

Carle, now the King's come!
Carle, now the King's come!
Thou shalt dance, and I will sing,
Carle, now the King's come!

Auld England held him lang and fast;
And Ireland had a joyfu' cast;
But Scotland's turn is come at last -

Carle, now the King's come! Auld Reekie, in her rokelay grey. Thought never to have seen the day; He's been a weary time away

But, Carle, now the King's come!

cleuch :

I'm missing some that I may rue

Carle, now the King's come!

Come, Haddington2, the kind and gay, You've graced my causeway mony a day;

I'll weep the cause if you should stayCarle, now the King's come!

'Come, premier Duke3, and carry doun Frae yonder craig his ancient croun; It's had a lang sleep and a soun'

But, Carle, now the King's come!

'Come, Athole, from the hill and wood,

Bring down your clansmen like a clud; Come, Morton, show the Douglas' blood,

Carle, now the King's come!

Lord Montagu, uncle and guardian to the young Duke of Buccleuch, placed his Grace's residence of Dalkeith at his Majesty's disposal during his visit to Scotland.

Charles, the tenth Earl of Haddington, died in 18. The Duke of Hamilton, as Earl of Angus, carried the ancient royal crown of Scotland on hörseback in Kmg George's procession, from Holyrood to the Castle.

'Come, Tweeddale, true as sword to Again I heard her summons swell, For, sic a dirdum and a yell,

sheath; Come, Hopetoun, fear'd on fields of It drown'd Saint Giles's jowing bell

death;

Come, Clerk1, and give your bugle breath;

Carle, now the King's come!

'Come, Wemyss, who modest merit aids;

Come, Rosebery, from Dalmeny shades;

Breadalbane, bring your belted plaids;

Carle, now the King's come! 'Come, stately Niddrie, auld and true,

Girt with the sword that Minden knew;

We have o'er few such lairds as you

Carle, now the King's come!

'King Arthur's grown a common crier, He's heard in Fife and far Cantire,"Fie, lads, behold my crest of fire!"

Carle, now the King's come!

'Saint Abb roars out, "I see him pass, Between Tantallon and the Bass!" Calton, get out your keeking-glass

Carle, now the King's come!'
The Carline stopp'd; and, sure I am,
For very glee had ta'en a dwam,
But Oman help'd her to a dram.—

Cogie, now the King's come!
Cogie, now the King's come!
Cogie, now the King's come!
I'se be fou' and ye's be toom,
Cogie, now the King's come!

PART SECOND.

A HAWICK gill of mountain dew, Heised up Auld Reekie's heart, I trow, It minded her of Waterloo

Carle, now the King's come!

1 Clerk of Pennycuik, bound by his tenure, when the King came to Edinburgh, to receive him at the Harestone with three blasts on a horn.

2 Landlord of the Waterloo Hotel.

Carle, now the King's come!

'My trusty Provost, tried and tight, Stand forward for the Good Town's right,

There's waur than you been made a knight

Carle, now the King's come!

My reverend Clergy, look ye say The best of thanksgivings ye ha'e, And warstle for a sunny day

Carle, now the King's come!

My Doctors, look that you agree,

Cure a' the town without a fee; My Lawyers, dinna pike a plea-

Carle, now the King's come!

'Come forth each sturdy Burgher's bairn,

That dints on wood or clanks on airn, That fires the o'en, or winds the pirn

Carle, now the King's come!

'Come forward with the Blanket Blue", Your sires were loyal men and true, As Scotland's foemen oft might rueCarle, now the King's come!

'Scots downa loup, and rin, and rave, We're steady folks and something

grave,

We'll keep the causeway firm and brave

Carle, now the King's come!

'Sir Thomas 4, thunder from your rock, Till Pentland dinnles wi' the shock, And lace wi' fire my snood o' smokeCarle, now the King's come!

3 The Blue Blanket is the standard of the incorporated trades of Edinburgh.

4 Sir Thomas Bradford, then commander of the forces in Scotland.

'Melville, bring out your bands of blue, A' Louden lads, baith stout and true, With Elcho, Hope, and Cockburn too

Carle, now the King's come!

'And you, who on yon bluidy braes Compell'd the vanquish'd Despot's praise,

Rank out-rank out-my gallant Greys 2

Carle, now the King's come!

'Cock o' the North, my Huntly braw, Where are you with the Forty-twa"? Ah! wae's my heart that ye 're awa'

Carle, now the King's come!

'But yonder come my canty Celts, With durk and pistols at their belts, Thank God, we've still some plaids

and kilts

Carle, now the King's come!

'Lord, how the pibrochs groan and yell!

Macdonnell's ta'en the field himsell, Macleod comes branking o'er the fell

Carle, now the King's come!

'Bend up your bow each Archer spark, For you're to guard him light and dark;

Faith, lads, for ance ye've hit the

mark

Carle, now the King's come!

Young Errol, take the sword of state, The sceptre, Panic-Morarchate°;

1 Lord Melville was Colonel of the Mid-Lothian Yeomanry Cavalry; Sir John Hope of Pinkie, Major; and Robert Cockburn, Esq., and Lord Elcho, were captains in the same corps.

2 The Scots Greys, under General Sir James Stewart of Coltness, were on duty at Edinburgh during the King's visit. Bonaparte's exclamation at Waterloo was, Ces beaux chevaux gris, comme ils travaillent! 3 Marquis of Huntly, Colonel of the 42nd Regiment. 4 Colonel Ronaldson Macdonnell of Glengarry, 5 The Earl of Errol is hereditary Lord HighConstable of Scotland.

A corruption of the Gaelic_Banamhorar-Chat, or the Great Lady (literally Female Lord of the Chatte); the Celtic title of the Countess of Sutherland.

1

Knight Mareschal, see ye clear the

gate

Carle, now the King's come!

'Kind cummer, Leith, ye've been mis-set,

But dinna be upon the fret-
Ye'se hae the handsel of him yet,
Carle, now the King's come!

'My daughters, come with een sae blue,

Your garlands weave, your blossoms strew;

He ne'er saw fairer flowers than you— Carle, now the King's come!

'What shall we do for the propineWe used to offer something fine, But ne'er a groat's in pouch of mine—

Carle, now the King's come!

'Deil care-for that l'se never start, We'll welcome him with Highland heart;

Whate'er we have he 's get a part

Carle, now the King's come!

'I'll show him mason-work this dayNane of your bricks of Babel clay, But towers shall stand till Time's away-

Carle, now the King's come!

I'll show him wit, I'll show him lair, And gallant lads and lasses fair, And what wad kind heart wish for mair?

Carle, now the King's come!

'Step out, Sir John', of projects rife, Come win the thanks of an auld wife, And bring him health and length of life

Carle, now the King's come!'

[1 Sir John Sinclair, patron and projector of national and patriotic plans,' says Lockhart.]

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