IN LUCKIE MACLEARY'S TAVERN. "IN the middle of this din, the Baron repeatedly implored silence; and when at length the instinct of polite discipline so far prevailed, that for a moment he obtained it, he hastened to beseech thier attention 'unto a military ariette, which was a particular favourite of the Maréchal Duc de Berwick;' then, imitating, as well as he could, the manner and tone of a French musquetaire, he immediately commenced," Mon cœur volage, dit-elle, N'est pas pour vous, garçon, Est pour un homme de guerre, Qui a barbe au menton. Lon, Lon, Laridon. Qui porte chapeau a plume, Soulier a rouge talon, Qui joue de la flute, Aussi de violon. Lon, Lon, Laridon. "Balmawhapple could hold no longer, but break in with what he called a d-d good song, composed by Gibby Gaethrowit, the Piper of Cupar; and, without wasting more time, struck up—”" It's up Glenbarchan's braes I gaed, And o'er the bent of Killiebraid, And mony a weary cast I made, To cuittle the moor-fowl's tail. If up a bonny black-cock should spring, Chap. xi. (5.)-" HIE AWAY, HIE AWAY." "THE stamping of horses was now heard in the court, and Davie Gellatley's voice singing to the two large deer greyhounds," Chap. xii. (6.)-ST. SWITHIN'S CHAIR. "THE view of the old tower, or fortalice, introduced some family anecdotes and tales of Scottish chivalry, which the Baron told with great enthusiasm. The projecting peak of an impending crag, which rose near it, had acquired the name of St. Swithin's Chair. It was the scene of a peculiar superstition, of which Mr. Rubrick mentioned some curious particulars, which reminded Waverley of a rhyme quoted by Edgar in King Lear; and Rose was called upon to sing a little legend, in which they had been interwoven by some village poet, Who, noteless as the race from which he sprung, Saved others' names, but left his own unsung. "The sweetness of her voice, and the simple beauty of her music, gave all the advantage which the minstrel could have desired, and which his poetry so much wanted." On Hallow-Mass Eve, ere you boune ye to rest, For on Hallow-Mass Eve the Night-Hag will ride, The Lady she sate in St. Swithin's Chair, She mutter'd the spell of Swithin bold, He that dare sit on St. Swithin's Chair, When the Night-Hag wings the troubled air. All those idle thoughts and phantasies, Devices, dreams, opinions unsound, Shows, visions, soothsays, and prophecies, And all that feigned is, as leasings, tales, and lies. Chap. xiii. (9.)-FLORA MACIVOR'S SONG. "FLORA had exchanged the measured and monotonous recitative of the bard for a lofty and uncommon Highland air, which had been a battle-song in former ages. A few irregular strains introduced a prelude of a wild and peculiar tone, which harmonized well with the distant water-fall, and the soft sigh of the evening breeze in the rustling leaves of an aspen which overhung the seat of the fair harpress. The following verses convey but little idea of the feelings with which, so sung and accompanied, they were heard by Waverley:" There is mist on the mountain, and night on the vale, The dirk and the target lie sordid with dust, The deeds of our sires if our bards should rehearse, Let a blush or a blow be the meed of their verse! Be mute every string, and be hush'd every tone, That shall bid us remember the fame that is flown. But the dark hours of night and of slumber are past, O high-minded Moray!—the exiled-the dear !— Ye sons of the strong, when that dawning shall break, O sprung from the Kings who in Islay kept state, Proud chiefs of Clan-Ranald, Glengary, and Sleat! Combine like three streams from one mountain of snow, And resistless in union rush down on the foe! True son of Sir Evan, undaunted Lochiel, Stern son of Lord Kenneth, high chief of Kintail, Let the clan of grey Fingon, whose offspring has given How Mac-Shimei will joy when their chief shall display Ye sons of brown Dermid, who slew the wild boar, Awake on your hills, on your islands awake, "Tis the summons of heroes for conquest or death, (10.)-LINES ON CAPTAIN WOGAN. "THE letter from the Chief contained Flora's lines on the fate of Captain Wogan, whose enterprising character is so well drawn by Clarendon. He had | originally engaged in the service of the Parliament, but had abjured that party upon the execution of Charles I.; and upon hearing that the royal standard was set up by the Earl of Glencairn and General Middleton in the Highlands of Scotland, took leave of Charles II., who was then at Paris, passed into England, assembled a body of cavaliers in the neighbourhood of London, and traversed the kingdom, which had been so long under domination of the usurper, by marches conducted with such skill, dexterity, and spirit, that he safely united his handful of horsemen with the body of Highlanders then in arms. After several months of desultory warfare, in which Wogan's skill and courage gained him the highest reputation, he had the misfortune to be wounded in a dangerous manner, and no surgical assistance being within reach, he terminated his short but glorious career." The Verses were inscribed, EMBLEM of England's ancient faith, And valour fills a timeless grave. And thou, brave tenant of the tomb! These owe their birth to genial May; No! for, 'mid storms of Fate opposing, Still higher swell'd thy dauntless heart, Commenced thy brief but brilliant part. "Twas then thou sought'st on Albyn's hill, And unsubdued though unrefined. Thy death's hour heard no kindred wail, But follow, follow me, While glow-worms light the lea, I'll show ye where the dead should be- While winds pipe loud, upon the oars of a galley, and which is therefore distinct from the ordinary jorrams, or boat-songs. They were composed by the Family Bard upon the departure of the Earl of Seaforth, who was obliged to take refuge in Spain, after an unsuccessful effort at insurrection in favour of the Stuart family, in the year 1718. FAREWELL to Mackenneth, great Earl of the North, O swift be the galley, and hardy her crew, On the brave vessel's gunnel I drank his bonail,1 Awake in thy chamber, thou sweet southland gale! And the red moon peeps dim through the cloud. Be prolong'd as regret, that his vassals must know, Be fair as their faith, and sincere as their woe: Be his pilot experienced, and trusty, and wise, IMITATION OF THE PRECEDING SONG. 2 So sung the old Bard, in the grief of his heart, From the far Southland Border a Minstrel came forth, And shalt thou then sleep, did the Minstrel exclaim, 1 Bonail, or Bonallez, the old Scottish phrase for a feast at He was a nobleman of extraordinary talents, who must have parting with a friend. 2 These verses were written shortly after the death of Lord Seaforth, the last male representative of his illustrious house. made for himself a lasting reputation, had not his political exertions been checked by the painful natural infirmities alluded to in the fourth stanza.-See Life of Scott, vol. v., pp. 18, 19. |