Louder, louder chant the lay, Tell them youth, and mirth, and glee, Time, stern huntsman! who can baulk, JOCK OF HAZELDEAN (1816) I. "Why weep ye by the tide, ladie? Why weep ye by the tide? I'll wed ye to my youngest son, And ye sall be his bride: And ye sall be his bride, ladie, Sae comely to be seen But aye she loot the tears down fa' For Jock of Hazeldean. II. "Now let this wilfu' grief be done, And dry that cheek so pale; Young Frank is chief of Errington 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. III. "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; And you, the foremost of them a', But aye she loot the tears down fa' IV. The kirk was deck'd at morning-tide, The priest and bridegroom wait the bride They sought her baith by bower and ha'; She's o'er the border and awa' MADGE WILDFIRE'S SONG (From The Heart of Midlothian, 1818) "Proud Maisie is in the wood, Sweet Robin sits on the bush, Singing so rarely. "Tell me, thou bonny bird, 66 6 "The grey-headed sexton, That delves the grave duly. The glow-worm o'er grave and stone The owl from the steeple sing, 'Welcome, proud lady."" BORDER BALLAD (From The Monastery, 1820) I. March, march, Ettrick and Teviotdale, Why the deil dinna ye march forward in order? March, march, Eskdale and Liddesdale, All the Blue Bonnets are bound for the Border. Many a banner spread, Flutters above your head, Many a crest that is famous in story; Mount and make ready then, Sons of the mountain glen, Fight for the Queen and the old Scottish glory! II. Come from the hills where the hirsels are grazing, Come from the glen of the buck and the roe; Come to the crag where the beacon is blazing, Come with the buckler, the lance, and the bow. Trumpets are sounding, War-steeds are bounding, Stand to your arms then, and march in good order; England shall many a day Tell of the bloody fray, When the Blue Bonnets came over the Border! COUNTY GUY (From Quentin Durward, 1823) "Ah! County Guy, the hour is nigh, The orange-flower perfumes the bower, The lark, his lay who thrill'd all day, "The village maid steals through the shade, The star of Love, all stars above, And high and low the influence know— Thomas Campbell 1777-1844 YE MARINERS OF ENGLAND (1800) Ye mariners of England That guard our native seas, Whose flag has braved a thousand years The battle and the breeze! Your glorious standard launch again To match another foe, And sweep through the deep, While the stormy winds do blow; The spirits of your fathers Shall start from every wave! For the deck it was their field of fame, Britannia needs no bulwark, Her march is o'er the mountain waves, Her home is on the deep. With thunders from her native oak She quells the floods below As they roar on the shore, Where the stormy winds do blow; When the battle rages loud and long, And the stormy winds do blow. The meteor flag of England Till danger's troubled night depart And the star of peace return. Our song and feast shall flow When the storm has ceased to blow; |