"Wheel the wild danco While lightnings glance, And thunders rattle loud, And call the brave To bloody grave, To sleep without a shroud. Burst, ye clouds, in tempest showers, See the east grows wan- To the wrath of man." VIII. At morn, grey Allan's mates with awe The legend heard him say; His comrades tell the tale, On picquet-post, when ebbs the night, And waning watch-fires glow less bright, And dawn is glimmering pale. Romance of Bunais.' FROM THE FRENCH. 1815. The original of this little Romance makes part of a manuscript collection of French Songs, probably compiled by some young officer, which was found on the field of Waterloo, so much stained with clay and with blood, as sufficiently to indicate the fate of its late owner. The song is popular in France, and is rather a good specimen of the style of composition to which it belongs. The translation is strictly literal.2 IT was Dunois, the young and brave, was bound tor Palestine, But first he made his orisons before St. Mary's shrine: 1 This ballad appeared in 1815, in Paul's Letters, and in the Edinburgh Annual Register. It has since been set to music by G. F. Graham, Esq., in Mr. Thomson's Select Melodies, &c. 2 The original romance, "Partant pour la Syric, Le jeune et brave Dunois," &c. was written, and set to music also, by Hortense Beauharnois, Duchesse de St. Leu, Ex-Queen of Holland. And each forester blithe, from his mountain descending, | Then up with the Banner, let forest winds fan her, Bounds light o'er the heather to join in the game. CHORUS. Then up with the Banner, let forest winds fan her, She has blazed over Ettrick eight ages and more; In sport we'll attend her, in battle defend her, With heart and with hand, like our fathers before. When the Southern invader spread waste and disorder, At the glance of her crescents he paused and withdrew, For around them were marshall'd the pride of the Border, The Flowers of the Forest, the Bands of Buc CLEUCH. Then up with the Banner, &c. A Stripling's weak hand' to our revel has borne her, No mail-glove has grasp'd her, no spearmen surround; But ere a bold foeman should scathe or should scorn her, A thousand true hearts would be cold on the ground. Then up with the Banner, &c. We forget each contention of civil dissension, And hail, like our brethren, HOME, DOUGLAS, and CAR: And ELLIOT and PRINGLE in pastime shall mingle, As welcome in peace as their fathers in war. Then up with the Banner, &c. Then strip, lads, and to it, though sharp be the weather, And if, by mischance, you should happen to fall, There are worse things in life than a tumble on heather, And life is itself but a game at foot-ball. And when it is over, we'll drink a blithe measure sure, To the lads that have lost and the lads that have won, Then up with the Banner, &c. May the Forest still flourish, both Borough and Landward, From the hall of the Peer to the Herd's ingle-nook; And huzza! my brave hearts, for BUCCLEUCH and his standard, For the King and the Country, the Clan, and the Duke! The bearer of the standard was the Author's eldest son. 8 14 Sleep on till day." These words, adapted to a melody somewhat different from the original, are sung in my friend She has blazed over Ettrick eight ages and more; In sport we'll attend her, in battle defend her, With heart and with hand, like our fathers before Lullaby of an Enfant Chief. O, HUSH thee, my babie, thy sire was a knight, They all are belonging, dear babie, to thee. O, fear not the bugle, though loudly it blows, Ere the step of a foeman draws near to thy bed. O, hush thee, my babie, the time soon will come, When thy sleep shall be broken by trumpet and drum; Then hush thee, my darling, take rest while you may, For strife comes with manhood, and waking with day. O ho ro, i ri ri, &c. from Guy Mannering. (1.) SONGS OF MEG MERRILIES NATIVITY OF HARRY BERTRAM. Mr. Terry's drama of "Guy Mannering." [The "Lullaby" was first printed in Mr. Terry's drama: it was afterwards set to music in Thomson's Collection. 1822.] The Return to Ulster.' "Take the fame and the riches ye brought in your train, And restore me the dream of my spring-tide again." 1816. UNCE again, but how changed since my wand'rings began I have heard the deep voice of the Lagan and Bann, That flow'd when these echoes first mix'd with my strain ? It was then that around me, though poor and unknown, High spells of mysterious enchantment were thrown; I had heard of our bards, and my soul was on fire At the rush of their verse, and the sweep of their lyre: To me 'twas not legend, nor tale to the car, Ultonia's old heroes awoke at the call, And renew'd the wild pomp of the chase and the hall; And the standard of Fion flash'd fierce from on high, They were days of delusion, and cannot return. But was she, too, a phantom, the Maid who stood by, And her voice that was moulded to melody's thrill, Jack of Bazeldean. AIR-A Border Melody. 1816. The first stanza of this Ballad is ancient. The others were written for Mr. Campbell's Albyn's Anthology. I. "WHY weep ye by the tide, ladie? Why weep ye by the tide ? I'll wed ye to my youngest son, Sae comely to be seen But aye she loot the tears down fa' For Jock of Hazeldean. First published in Mr. G. Thomson's Collection of Irish Alra. 1816. 2 In ancient Irish poetry, the standard of Fion, or Fingal, is called the Sun-burst, an epithet feebly rendered by the Sun beam of Macpherson |