MARCH, march, Ettrick and Teviotdale, Why the deil dinna ye march forward in order? March, march, Eskdale and Liddesdale, All the Blue Bonnets are bound for the Border. Many a crest that is famous in story. Mount and make ready then, Sons of the mountain glen, (2.)—CHAP. II. In yon lone vale his early youth was bred. Not solitary then-the bugle-horn Of fell Alecto often waked its windings, (3.)-CHAP. V. A priest, ye cry, a priest !-lame shepherds they, (4.)-CHAP. VI. Now let us sit in conclave. That these weeds Fight for the Queen and our old Scottish glory. We are, I trust, agreed.-Yet how to do this, 2. Come from the hills where your hirsels are grazing, Come from the glen of the buck and the roe; Come to the crag where the beacon is blazing, Come with the buckler, the lance, and the bow. Trumpets are sounding, War-steeds are bounding, Nay, dally not with time, the wise man's treasure, Stand to your arms, and march in good order, Hooks souls, while we waste moments. England shall many a day Tell of the bloody fray, When the Blue Bonnets came over the Border. (3.)-MOTTOES. (1.)-CHAP. I. Chap. xxv. (6.)-CHAP. XI. Old Play. You call this education, do you not? O AY! the Monks, the Monks, they did the mischief! Old Play. (7.)-CHAP. XII. Theirs all the grossness, all the superstition Of a most gross and superstitious age. There's something in that ancient superstition, May HE be praised that sent the healthful tem- Which, erring as it is, our fancy loves. From the Abbot. 1820. (1.)-THE PARDONER'S ADVERTISEMENT. "AT length the pardoner pulled from his scrip - a small phial of clear water, of which he vaunted the quality in the following verses:"— Listneth, gode people, everiche one, And is the first londe the sonne espieth, Putteth this water under her nese, (7.)-CHAP. XVI. Youth! thou wear'st to manhood now, Darker lip and darker brow, Statelier step, more pensive mien, In thy face and gait are seen: Thou must now brook midnight watches, Take thy food and sport by snatches! For the gambol and the jest, (8.)-CHAP. XIX. It is and is not 'tis the thing I sought for, life for, And yet it is not-no more than the shadow (9.)-CHAP. XXIII. Old Play. Give me a morsel on the greensward rather, Coarse as you will the cooking-Let the fresh spring Yes, it is she whose eyes look'd on thy childhood, And watch'd with trembling hope thy dawn of youth, That now, with these same eye-balls, dimm'd with age, And dimmer yet with tears, sees thy dishonor. (13.)-CHAP. Xxx. In some breasts passion lies conceal'd and silent, Flatter the waiting-woman, bribe the valet; (16.)-CHAP. XXXV. It is a time of danger, not of revel, (17.)-CHAP. XXXVII. Ay, sir-our ancient crown, in these wild times, The Spanish Father. From Kenilworth. 1821. (1.) GOLDTHRED'S SONG. "AFTER Some brief interval, Master Goldthred, at the earnest instigation of mine host, and the joyous concurrence of his guests, indulged the company with the following morsel of melody :”— Of all the birds on bush or tree, Commend me to the owl, Since he may best ensample be To those the cup that trowl. Then comes at once the lightning and the thun- For when the sun hath left the west, der, He chooses the tree that he loves the best, And he whoops out his song, and he laughs at his jest, Then, though hours be late, and weather foul, We'll drink to the health of the bonny, bonny owl The lark is but a bumpkin fowl, He sleeps in his nest till morn; Then up with your cup till you stagger in speech, And drink till you wink, my merry men each; owl. Chap. ii |