Come as the winds come, when Come as the waves come, when Navies are stranded. Faster come, faster come, Faster and faster: Chief, vassal, page, and groom, Tenant and master. Fast they come, fast they come; Cast your plaids, draw your blades, Forward each man set; Pibroch of Donuil Dhu, Knell for the onset! [Written for Campbell's Albyn's Anthology, 1816.] YOUNG LOCHINVAR. SIR WALTER SCOTT. O, young Lochinvar has come out of the west; Through all the wide Border his steed was the best; And, save his good broadsword, he weapons had none : He rode all unarm'd, and he rode all alone. So faithful in love, and so gallant in war! There never was knight like the young Lochinvar. He stay❜d not for brake, and he stopp'd not for stone; The bride had consented-the gallant came late- So boldly he enter'd the Netherby hall, Among bride'smen, and kinsmen, and brothers, and all! "I long woo'd your daughter-my suit you denied ;- The bride kiss'd the goblet; the knight took it up; Now tread we a measure!" said young Lochinvar. So stately his form, and so lovely her face, That never a hall such a galliard did grace; While her mother did fret, and her father did fume, And the bridegroom stood dangling his bonnet and plume, And the bride-maidens whisper'd, " 'twere better by far, To have match'd our fair cousin with young Lochinvar." One touch to her hand, and one word in her ear, near; So light to the croupe the fair lady he swung, So light to the saddle before her he sprung! She is won! we are gone, over bush, loch, and scaur; They'll have fleet steeds that follow," quoth young Lochinvar. There was mounting 'mong Græmes of the Netherby clan; Fosters, Fenwicks, and Musgraves, they rode and they ran; There was racing and chasing, on Cannobie Lee, Have ye e'er heard of gallant like young Lochinvar ? [See the ballad of Katharine Janfarie in Scott's Minstrelsy, vol. iii. p. 122, on which Young Lochinvar is founded.] 86 JOCK O' HAZELDEAN. SIR WALTER SCOTT. Why weep ye by the tide, ladie Why weep ye by the tide ? And ye shall be his bride, ladie, "Now let this wilful grief be done, "A chain o' gold ye sall not lack, And you, the foremost o' them a’, But aye she loot the tears down fa', The kirk was decked at morning-tide, The priest and bridegroom wait the bride, The ladie was not seen! She's o'er the Border, and awa' Wi' Jock of Hazeldean! ["The first stanza of this ballad is ancient. The others were written for Mr. Campbell's Albyn's Anthology, 1816."-SCOTT.] MACGREGORS' GATHERING. SIR WALTER SCOTT. The moon's on the lake, and the mists on the brae, Our signal for fight, that from monarchs we drew, Glen Orchy's proud mountains, Coalchuirn and her towers, Glenstrae and Glenlyon no longer are ours; We're landless, landless, landless, Grigalach! But doom'd and devoted by vassal and lord, 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! |