KENNETH.

I weird, I weird, hard-hearted lord,
Thy fa' shall soon be seen;
Proud was the lily of the morn,
The cald frost nipt or een:

Thou leughst in scorn when puir men weep'd,
And strack the lowly down;
Sae sall nae widow weep for thine,
When a' their joys are flown.

This night ye drink the sparkly wine;
I redd you drink your fill;

The morrow's sun shall drink your bluid,
Afore he reach the hill.

I see the snaw-maned horses ride,
Their glitt'ring swords they draw ;
Their swords that shall nae glitter lang,
Till Kenneth's pride shall fa'.

The black Dog youl'd; he saw the sight
Nae man but I could see;

High* on fair Margret's breast her sheet,
And deadly fix'd her ee:

Sae spake the seer; wild in his een

His frighted spirit gaz'd:

Pale were his cheeks, and stiff his hair
Like boary bristles rais'd.

Loud, loud in Kenneth's lighted ha',

The sang of joy was heard;
And mony a cup they fill'd again,
Afore the light appear'd.

"War my son William now, but here,
He wad na fail the pledge".
Wi' that in at the door there ran
A ghousty-looking page.

"I saw them, Master, O! I saw,

Beneath the thorney brae,

Of black-mail'd warriors mony a rank;
Revenge! he cried, and gae."

* To persons unacquainted with the superstition of the Highlands, this may not be easily intelligible. There the seer is supposed to behold the figure of a person about to die, clothed in their winding-sheet; and the higher it is on their bodies, the nearer their approaching dissolution.

The youth that bare Lord Kenneth's cup,
The saft smile on his cheek,

Frae his white hand let fa' the drink,
Nor did the baldest speak.

Sae have I seen the gray-wing'd shaft
That strak the noblest deer ;
Astounded, gaz'd the trembling herd,
Nor could they flee for fear.

"Ride, ride, and bid Lord William come; His fathers sair beset."

"It was Lord William's horse that neigh'd; I heard them bar the yate."

"Welcome, my valiant son," he said;

Or should I welcome say,

In sic an ill hour, when you come
To meet thy father's fae ?”

"Curs'd be that thought," bald William said;

My father's faes are mine;

Lang has my breast frae Kenneth learn'd

Sic baby fear to tine.”

"O William! had we kent yestreen.".

"Father, we ken it now;

Let women tell what women wish.".

Syne three shrill blasts he blew.

Fair Margret lay on downy bed;
Yet was na sound her rest;

She waken'd wi' Lord William's horn,
And down she came in haste.

"What mean you, Kenneth, by that blast? I wish my dreams bode guid;

Upon a bed of lilies fair

I thought there rain'd red bluid.

My son! my son! may peace be there
Whar noble William stands."-
"We are the lilies," answer'd he,
May their bluid weit our hands."

"What means my William by sic words?
Whase bluid would William spill ?
I thought that horn had blawn in peace,
That wak'd the night sae still."

She luik'd; but nane durst answer make, Till gallant William said,

"Aft has my mother bade us joy,

When we to battail gade.

Again thy hands may work the plaid

For him that fought the best;

Again may I hing up my targe
Upon the pin to rest.

But William never liv'd to flee;
Nor did his mother hear

A warrior cry on William's name,
That was na found for fear.

And if we fa', my gallant friends,

We shall na fa' alane;

Some honest hand shall write our deeds Upon the tallest stane."

"Haste, Kenneth, haste; for in the field The fire-ey'd Walter rides;

His men, that come sae thrang wi' haste, For slaw delay he chides."

"By Mary, we will meet him there,"
The angry William cry'd;

Thy son will try this Lion-fae,
And you with Margaret bide."

"No, on my faith, the sword of youth
Thy father yet can wield;
If that I shrink frae fiercest faes,

May babies mock my eild,"

Then forth they rush'd, afore the yate
The warriours sallied out:

Lord William smil'd upon their ranks :
They answer'd wi' a shout.