Volume Iii Part 6 (1/2)
”Away to the hills, to the caves, to the rocks, Ere I own a usurper, I'll couch with the fox; And tremble, false Whigs, in the midst of your glee, You have not seen the last of my bonnet and me!”
He waved his proud hand, and the trumpets were blown, The kettledrums clashed, and the hors.e.m.e.n rode on, Till on Ravelston's cliffs and on Clermiston's lee Died away the wild war notes of Bonnie Dundee.
Come fill up my cup, and fill up my can, Come saddle the horses and call up the men, Come open your gates, and let me gae free, For it's up with the bonnets of Bonnie Dundee!
SIR WALTER SCOTT.
[Ill.u.s.tration]
THE SONG OF THE WESTERN MEN.
A good sword and a trusty hand!
A merry heart and true!
King James's men shall understand What Cornish lads can do.
And have they fixed the where and when?
And shall Trelawny die?
Here's twenty thousand Cornish men Will know the reason why!
Out spake their captain brave and bold, A merry wight was he: ”If London Tower were Michael's hold, We'll set Trelawny free!
”We'll cross the Tamar, land to land, The Severn is no stay, With one and all, and hand in hand, And who shall bid us nay?
”And when we come to London Wall, A pleasant sight to view, Come forth! come forth! ye cowards all, Here's men as good as you.
”Trelawny he's in keep and hold, Trelawny he may die; But here's twenty thousand Cornish bold Will know the reason why!”
ROBERT S. HAWKER.
JAFFAR.
Jaffar, the Barmecide, the good Vizier, The poor man's hope, the friend without a peer,-- Jaffar was dead, slain by a doom unjust; And guilty Haroun, sullen with mistrust Of what the good, and e'en the bad, might say, Ordained that no man living, from that day, Should dare to speak his name on pain of death.
All Araby and Persia held their breath.
All but the brave Mondeer.--He, proud to show How far for love a grateful soul could go, And facing death for very scorn and grief, For his great heart wanted a great relief, Stood forth in Bagdad, daily in the square Where once had stood a happy home, and there Harangued the tremblers at the scymitar On all they owed to the divine Jaffar.
”Bring me this man,” the caliph cried: the man Was brought, was gazed upon. The mutes began To bind his arms. ”Welcome, brave cords,” cried he; ”From bonds far worse Jaffar delivered me; From wants, from shames, from loveless household fears; Made a man's eyes friends with delicious tears; Restored me, loved me, put me on a par With his great self. How can I pay Jaffar?”
Haroun, who felt that on a soul like this The mightiest vengeance could but fall amiss, Now deigned to smile, as one great lord of fate Might smile upon another half as great.
He said, ”Let worth grow frenzied if it will; The caliph's judgment shall be master still.