Volume Iii Part 3 (2/2)
It 's hame, and it 's hame, hame fain wad I be, And it 's hame, hame, hame, to my ain countrie!
The great now are gane, a' who ventured to save, The new gra.s.s is springing on the tap o' their grave; But the sun through the mirk blinks blithe in my e'e: ”I 'll s.h.i.+ne on ye yet in your ain countrie.”
It 's hame, an' it 's hame, hame fain wad I be, An' it 's hame, hame, hame, to my ain countrie!
THE LOVELY La.s.s OF INVERNESS.
There lived a la.s.s in Inverness, She was the pride of a' the town; Blithe as the lark on gowan-tap, When frae the nest but newly flown.
At kirk she won the auld folks' love, At dance she was the young men's een; She was the blithest aye o' the blithe, At wooster-trystes or Hallowe'en.
As I came in by Inverness, The simmer-sun was sinking down; Oh, there I saw the weel-faur'd la.s.s, And she was greeting through the town: The gray-hair'd men were a' i' the streets, And auld dames crying, (sad to see!) ”The flower o' the lads of Inverness Lie dead upon Culloden-lee!”
She tore her haffet-links of gowd, And dighted aye her comely e'e; ”My father's head 's on Carlisle wall, At Preston sleep my brethren three!
I thought my heart could haud nae mair, Mae tears could ever blin' my e'e; But the fa' o' ane has burst my heart, A dearer ane there couldna be!
”He trysted me o' love yestreen, Of love-tokens he gave me three; But he 's faulded i' the arms o' weir, Oh, ne'er again to think o' me!
The forest flowers shall be my bed, My food shall be the wild berrie, The fa' o' the leaf shall co'er me cauld, And wauken'd again I winna be.”
Oh weep, oh weep, ye Scottish dames, Weep till ye blin' a mither's e'e; Nae reeking ha' in fifty miles, But naked corses, sad to see.
Oh spring is blithesome to the year, Trees sprout, flowers spring, and birds sing hie; But oh! what spring can raise them up, That lie on dread Culloden-lee?
The hand o' G.o.d hung heavy here, And lightly touch'd foul tyrannie; It struck the righteous to the ground, And lifted the destroyer hie.
”But there 's a day,” quo' my G.o.d in prayer, ”When righteousness shall bear the gree; I 'll rake the wicked low i' the dust, And wauken, in bliss, the gude man's e'e!”
A WET SHEET AND A FLOWING SEA.
A wet sheet and a flowing sea, A wind that follows fast, And fills the white and rustling sail, And bends the gallant mast; And bends the gallant mast, my boys, While, like the eagle free, Away the good s.h.i.+p flies, and leaves Old England on the lee.
Oh for a soft and gentle wind!
I hear a fair one cry; But give to me the snoring breeze, And white waves heaving high; And white waves heaving high, my boys, The good s.h.i.+p tight and free-- The world of waters is our home, And merry men are we.
There 's tempest in yon horned moon, And lightning in yon cloud; And hark the music, mariners!
The wind is piping loud; The wind is piping loud, my boys, The lightning flas.h.i.+ng free-- While the hollow oak our palace is, Our heritage the sea.
THE BONNIE BARK.
O come, my bonnie bark!
O'er the waves let us go, With thy neck like the swan, And thy wings like the snow.
Spread thy plumes to the wind, For a gentle one soon Must welcome us home, Ere the wane of the moon.
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