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« On receiving intelligence of his commission as captain of a troop of horse in Colonel Gardiner’s regi

(3.)-DAVIE GELLATLEY'S SONG. ment, his tutor, Mr. Pembroke, picked up about Edward's room some fragments of irregular verse, which “ HE (Daft Davie Gellatley,) sung with great ear. he appeared to have composed under the influence of nestness, and not without some taste, a fragment of the agitating feelings occasioned by this sudden page an old Scotch ditty:” being turned up to him in the book of life.”

False love, and hast thou play'd me this Late, when the autumn evening fell

In summer among the flowers ? On Mirkwood-Mere's romantic dell,

I will repay thee back again The lake return'd, in chasten'd gleam,

In winter among the showers. The purple cloud, the golden beam:

Unless again, again, my love, Reflected in the crystal pool,

Unless you turn again; Headland and bank lay fair and cool;

As you with other maidens rove,
The weather-tinted rock and tower,

I'll smile on other men.
Each drooping tree, each fairy flower,
So true, so soft, the mirror gave,

“ This is a genuine ancient fragment, with some As if there lay beneath the wave,

alteration in the last two lines." Secure from trouble, toil, and care, A world than earthly world more fair.


But distant winds began to wake, And roused the Genius of the Lake!

The questioned party replied,-and, like the witch of Thalaba,' still his speech was song.''

The Knight 's to the mountain

His bugle to wind;
The Lady ’s to greenwood

Her garland to bind.
The bower of Burd Ellen

Has moss on the floor,
That the step of Lord William

Be silent and sure.

Hie away, bie away,
Over bank and over brae,
Where the copsewood is the greenest,
Where the fountains glisten sheenest,
Where the lady-fern grows strongest,
Where the morning dew lies longest,
Where the black-cock sweetest sips it,
Where the fairy latest trips it:
Hie to haunts right seldom seen,
Lovely, lonesome, cool, and green,
Over bank and over brae,
Hie away, hie away.

Chap. xii.

Chap. ix.




“ In the middle of this din, the Baron repeatedly implored silence; and when at length the instinct of (6.)--ST. SWITHIN'S CHAIR. polite discipline so far prevailed, that for a moment he obtained it, he hastened to beseech thier attention “ Tue view of the old tower, or fortalice, introduced runto a military ariette, which was a particular fa- some family anecdotes and tales of Scottish chivalry, vourite of the Maréchal Duc de Berwick;' then, imi- which the Baron told with great enthusiasm. The tating, as well as he could, the manner and tone of a projecting peak of an impending crag, which rose near French musquetaire, he immediately commenced," it, had acquired the name of St. Swithin's Chair. It

was the scene of a peculiar superstition, of which Mr. Mon cæur volage, dit-elle,

Rubrick mentioned some curious particulars, which N'est pas pour vous, garçon,

reminded Waverley of a rhyme quoted by Edgar in Est pour un homme de guerre,

King Lear; and Rose was called upon to sing a little Qui a barbe au menton.

legend, in which they had been interwoven by some Lon, Lon, Laridon.

village poet,

Qui porte chapeau a plume,

Who, noteless as the race from which he sprung,
Soulier a rouge talon,

Saved others' names, but left his own unsung.
Qui joue de la flute,
Aussi de violon.

“ The sweetness of her voice, and the simple beauty Lon, Lon, Laridon. of her music, gave all the advantage which the min

strel could have desired, and which his poetry so much “ Balmawhapple could hold no longer, but break wanted." in with what he called a d-d good song, composed by Gibby Gaethrowit, the Piper of Cupar; and, with On Hallow-Mass Eve, ere you boune ye to rest, out wasting more time, struck up—”

Ever beware that your couch be bless d;

Sign it with cross, and sain it with bead,
It 's up Glenbarchan’s braes I gaed,

Sing the Ave, and say the Creed.
And o’er the bent of Killiebraid,
And mony a weary cast I made,

For on Hallow-Mass Eve the Night-Hag will ride,
To cuittle the moor-fowl's tail.

And all her nine-fold sweeping on by her side,

Whether the wind sing lowly or loud,
If up a bonny black-cock should spring,

Sailing through moonshine or swath'd in the cloud
To whistle him down wi' a slug in his wing,
And strap him on to my lunzie string,

The Lady she sate in St. Swithin's Chair,
Right seldom would I fail.

The dew of the night has damp'd her hair:
Cap. xi. Her cheek was pale--but resolved and high

Was the word of her lip and the glance of her eye.

She mutter'd the spell of Swithin bold,
When his naked foot traced the midnight wold,
When he stopp'd the Hag as she rode the night,
And bade ber descend, and her promise plight.


“ Tas stamping of horses was now heard in the court, and Davie Gellatley's voice singing to the two large deer greyhounds,"

He that dare sit on St. Swithin's Chair,
When the Night-Hag wings the troubled air.

Questions three, when he speaks the spell,

All those idle thoughts and phantasies, He may ask, and she must tell.

Devices, dreams, opinions unsound,

Shows, visions, soothsays, and prophecies, The Baron has been with King Robert his liege, And all that feigned is, as leasings, tales, and lies. These three long years in battle and siege ; News are there none of his weal or his woe, And fain the Lady his fate would know.

Chap. xiii.

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She shudders and stops as the charm she speaks ;-
Is it the moody owl that shrieks?
Or is that sound, betwixt laughter and scream,

(9.)-FLORA MACIVOR'S SONG. The voice of the Demon who haunts the stream?

“Flora had exchanged the measured and monotoThe moan of the wind sunk silent and low,

nous recitative of the bard for a lofty and uncommon And the roaring torrent had ceased to flow;

Highland air, which had been a battle-song in former The calm was more dreadful than raging storm,

ages. A few irregular strains introduced a prelude When the cold grey mist brought the ghastly form of a wild and peculiar tone, which harmonized well

with the distant water-fall, and the soft sigh of the Chap. xii.

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 Waver(7.)-DAVIE GELLATLEY'S SONG. ley:” “ The next day Edward arose betimes, and in a There is mist on the mountain, and night on the vale, morning walk around the house and its vicinity, came But more dark is the sleep of the sons of the Gael. suddenly upon a small court in front of the dog-kennel, A stranger commanded—it sunk on the land, where his friend Davie was employed about his four- It has frozen each heart, and benumb'd every hand ! footed charge. One quick glance of his eye recognized Waverley, when, instantly turning his back, as if he The dirk and the target lie sordid with dust, had not observed him, he began to sing part of an The bloodless claymore is but redden'd with rust; old ballad.”

On the hill or the glen if a gun should appear,

It is only to war with the heath-cock or deer.
Young men will love thee more fair and more fast;
Heard ye so merry the little bird sing?

The deeds of our sires if our bards should rehearse, Old men's love the longest will last,

Let a blush or a blow be the meed of their verse! And the throstle-cock's head is under his wing. Be mute every string, and be hush'd every tone,

That shall bid us remember the fame that is flown. The young man's wrath is like light straw on fire; Heard ye so merry the little bird sing ?

But the dark hours of night and of slumber are past, But like red-hot steel is the old man’s ire,

The morn on our mountains is dawning at last; And the throstle-cock's head is under his wing. Glenaladale's peaks are illumed with the rays,

And the streams of Glenfinnan leap bright in the The young man will brawl at the evening board;

blaze. Heard ye so merry the little bird sing? But the old man will draw at the dawning the sword, o high-minded Moray !—the exiled—the dear !And the throstle-cock's head is under his wing.

In the blush of the dawning the STANDARD uprear !

Wide, wide on the winds of the north let it fly, [The song has allusion to the Baron of Braidwar- Like the sun's latest flash when the tempest is nigh! dine's personal encounter with Balmawhapple early next morning, after the evening quarrel betwixt the Ye sons of the strong, when that dawning shall break, latter and Waverley.]

Need the harp of the aged remind you to wake ?
Chap. xiv.

That dawn never beam'd on your forefathers' eye,
But it roused each high chieftain to vanquish or die.




from the Kings who in Islay kept state, Proud chiefs of Clan-Ranald, Glengary, and Sleat! Combine like three streams from one mountain of

And resistless in union rush down on the foe!

« Tais anecdote led into a long discussion of,"

True son of Sir Evan, undaunted Lochiel,
Place thy targe on thy shoulder and burnish thy steel ! (10.)-LINES ON CAPTAIN WOGAN.
Rough Keppoch, give breath to thy bugle's bold swell,
Till far Coryarrick resound to the knell !

“ The letter from the Chief contained Flora's lines

on the fate of Captain Wogan, whose enterprising Stern son of Lord Kenneth, high chief of Kintail, character is so well drawn by Clarendon. He had Let the stag in thy standard bound wild in the gale! originally engaged in the service of the Parliament, but May the race of Clan-Gillian, the fearless and free, had abjured that party upon the execution of Charles Remember Glenlivat, Harlaw, and Dundee ! I.; and upon hearing that the royal standard was set

up by the Earl of Glencairn and General Middleton Let the clan of grey Fingon, whose offspring has given in the Highlands of Scotland, took leave of Charles II., Such heroes to earth, and such martyrs to heaven, who was then at Paris, passed into England, assembled Unite with the race of renown'd Rorri More, a body of cavaliers in the neighbourhood of London, To launch the long galley, and stretch to the oar ! and traversed the kingdom, which had been so long

under domination of the usurper, by marches conHow Mac-Shimei will joy when their chief shall display ducted with such skill, dexterity, and spirit, that he The yew-crested bonnet o'er tresses of grey!

safely united his handful of horsemen with the body How the race of wrong’d Alpine and murder'd Glencoe of Highlanders then in arms. After several months Shall shout for revenge when they pour on the foe! of desultory warfare, in which Wogan's skill and

courage gained him the highest reputation, he had Ye sons of brown Dermid, who slew the wild boar, the misfortune to be wounded in a dangerous manResume the pure faith of the great Callum-More ! ner, and no surgical assistance being within reach, ho Mac-Niel of the Islands, and Moy of the Lake, terminated his short but glorious career.” For honour, for freedom, for vengeance awake! The Verses were inscribed,

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Yet who, in Fortune's summer-shine

upon the oars of a galley, and which is therefore distinct To waste life's longest term away,

from the ordinary jorrams, or boat-songs. They were Would change that glorious dawn of thine, composed by the Family Bard upon the departure of Though darken'd ere its noontide day?

the Earl of Seaforth, who was obliged to take refuge in

Spain, after an unsuccessful effort at insurrection in Be thine the Tree whose dauntless boughs favour of the Stuart family, in the year 1718.

Brave summer's drought and winter's gloom! Rome bound with oak her patriots' brows, FAREWELL to Mackenneth, great Earl of the North, As Albyn shadows Wogan's tomb.

The Lord of Lochcarron, Glenshiel, and Seaforth;
Chap. xxix.

To the Chieftain this morning his course who began,
Launching forth on the billows his bark like a swan.

For a far foreign land he has hoisted his sail, (11.)-“ FOLLOW ME, FOLLOW ME.”

Farewell to Mackenzie, High Chief of Kintail ! “Who are dead ?' said Waverley, forgetting the incapacity of Davie to hold any connected discourse. O swift be the galley, and hardy her crew,

“ Baron-and Baillie--and Sanders Sanderson, May her captain be skilful, her mariners true, and Lady Rose, that sang sae sweet-A’ dead and in danger undaunted, unwearied by toil, gane-dead and gane, (said Davie)

Though the whirlwind should rise, and the ocean

should boil : But follow, follow me,

On the brave vessel's gunnel I drank his bonail, While głow-worms light the lea,

And farewell to Mackenzie, High Chief of Kintail ! I'll show ye where the dead should beEach in his shroud,

Awake in thy chamber, thou sweet southland gale! While winds pipe loud,

Like the sighs of his people, breathe soft on his sail; 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: Follow, follow me;

Be so soft, and so fair, and so faithful, sweet gale, Brave should he be

Wafting onward Mackenzie, High Chief of Kintail ! That treads by the night the dead man's lea.”

Chap. lxiii.

Be his pilot experienced, and trusty, and wise,
To measure the seas and to study the skies:
May he hoist all his canvass from streamer to deck,

But 0! crowd it higher when wafting him back-
The Author of Waverley?

Till the cliffs of Skooroora, and Conan's glad vale, [“ I am not able to give the exact date of the follow- Shall welcome Mackenzie, High Chief of Kintail! ing reply to one of John Ballantyne’s expostulations on the subject of the secret:-Life, vol. iv., p. 179.]

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The original verses are arranged to a beautiful Gaelic And shalt thou then sleep, did the Minstrel exclaim,

air, of which the chorus is adapted to the double pull Like the son of the lowly, unnoticed by fame?

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.

made for himself a lasting reputation, had not his political ex2 These verses were written shortly after the death of Lord ertions been checked by the painful natural infirmities alluded Seaforth, the last male representative of his illustrious house. to in the fourth stanza.-See Life of Scott, vol. v., pp. 18, 19.

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