A various host, from kindred realms they came, And with their deeds of valour deck her crown. Hers their bold port, and hers their martial frown, And hers their scorn of death in Freedom's cause; Their eyes of azure, and their locks of brown, And the blunt speech that bursts without a pause, And freeborn thoughts, which league the soldier with the laws. And, oh! loved warriors of the minstrel's land! Yonder your bonnets nod, your tartans wave! The rugged form may mark the mountain band, And harsher features, and a mien more grave; But ne'er in battle-field throbb'd heart so brave, As that which beats beneath the Scottish plaid; And when the pibroch bids the battle rave, And level for the charge your arms are laid, Where lives the desperate foe that for such onset stay'd! Hark! from yon stately ranks what laughter rings, Mingling wild mirth with war's stern minstrelsy, His jest while each blithe comrade round him And moves to death with military glee: [flings, Boast, Erin, boast them! tameless, frank, and free, In kindness warm, and fierce in danger known, Rough Nature's children, humorous as she : And he, yon chieftain-strike the proudest tone Of thy bold harp, green isle !—the hero is thine ow SONG. THE heath this night must be my bed, My lullaby the warder's tread, Far, far, from love and thee, Mary! To-morrow eve, more stilly laid, I may not, dare not, fancy now And all it promised me, Mary. His foot like arrow free, Mary. A time will come with feeling fraught, Shall be a thought on thee, Mary. To my young bride and me, Mary! SONG. Nor faster yonder rowers' might, Than men from memory erase The benefits of former days; Then, stranger, go! good speed the while, Nor think again of the lonely isle. High place to thee in royal court, Good hawk and hound for sylvan sport, True be thy sword, thy friend sincere, But if beneath yon southern sky Or if, on life's uncertain main, Beneath the fickle gale; Waste not a sigh on fortune changed, HELVELLYN. I CLIMB'D the dark brow of the mighty Helvellyn, Lakes and mountains beneath me gleam'd misty and wide; All was still, save by fits, when the eagle was yelling, And starting around me the echoes replied. On the right, Striden-edge round the Red-tarn was bending, And Catchedicam its left verge was defending, Dark green was that spot mid the brown mountainheather, Where the pilgrim of Nature lay stretch'd in decay, Like the corpse of an outcast abandon'd to weather, Till the mountain winds wasted the tenantless clay. Nor yet quite deserted, though lonely extended, For, faithful in death, his mute favourite attended, The much-loved remains of her master defended, And chased the hill-fox and the raven away. How long didst thou think that his silence was slumber? When the wind waved his garment, how oft didst thou start? How many long days and long nights didst thou number, Ere he faded before thee, the friend of thy heart? And oh, was it meet that—no requiem read o'er him, No mother to weep, and no friend to deplore him, And thou, little guardian, alone stretch'd before him Unhonour'd, the pilgrim from life should depart? When a prince to the fate of a peasant has yielded, The tapestry waves dark round the dim-lighted hall; With scutcheons of silver the coffin is shielded, And pages stand mute by the canopied pall: Through the courts, at deep midnight, the torches are gleaming; In the proudly-arch'd chapel the banners are beam ing; Far adown the long aisle sacred music is streaming, Lamenting a chief of the people should fall. But meeter for thee, gentle lover of nature, To lay down thy head like the meek mountain lamb, When wilder'd he drops from some cliff huge in stature, And draws his last sob by the side of his dam. . And more stately thy couch by this desert lake lying, PIBROCH OF DONALD DHU. PIBROCH Of Donuil Dhu, Come from deep glen, and Leave untended the herd, Come as the winds come when Come as the waves come when |