Ah! County Guy, the hour is nigh,

‘This is my own, my native land!’Whose heart hath ne’er within him burn’dAs home his footsteps he hath turn’dFrom wandering on a foreign strand?If such there breathe, go, mark him well;For him no Minstrel raptures swell;High though his titles, proud his name,Boundless his wealth as wish can claim;Despite those titles, power, and pelf,The wretch, concentred…

The northern realms of ancient Caledon,Where the proud Queen of Wilderness hath placed,By lake and cataract, her lonely throne;Sublime but sad delight thy soul hath known,Gazing on pathless glen and mountain high,Listing where from the cliffs the torrents thrownMingle their echoes with the eagle’s cry,And with the sounding lake, and with the moaning sky.Yes! ’twas…

And love, in life’s extremity,Can lend an hour of cheering.Disease had been in Mary’s bowerAnd slow decay from mourning,Though now she sits on Neidpath’s towerTo watch her Love’s returning.All sunk and dim her eyes so bright,Her form decay’d by pining,Till through her wasted hand, at night,You saw the taper shining.By fits a sultry hectic hueAcross…

Summon the gay, the noble, and the fair!Through the loud hall, in joyous concert pour’d,Let mirth and music sound the dirge of Care!But ask thou not if Happiness be there,If the loud laugh disguise convulsive throe,Or if the brow the heart’s true livery wear;Lift not the festal mask! – enough to know,No scene of mortal…

When first thy mystic braid was wove,And first my Agnes whisper’d love.Since then how often hast thou prestThe torrid zone of this wild breast,Whose wrath and hate have sworn to dwellWith the first sin that peopled hell;A breast whose blood’s a troubled ocean,Each throb the earthquake’s wild commotion!Oh if such clime thou canst endureYet keep…

So let each Cavalier who loves honour and me,Come follow the bonnet of Bonny Dundee.Come fill up my cup, come fill up my can,Come saddle your horses, and call up your men;Come open the West Port and let me gang free,And it’s room for the bonnets of Bonny Dundee!’Dundee he is mounted, he rides up…

Or will ye hear how a gallant lordWas wedded to a gay ladye?‘Ca’ out the kye,’ quo’ the village herd,As he stood on the knowe,‘Ca’ this ane’s nine and that ane’s ten,And bauld Lord William’s cow.’-‘I swear by the light of the Michaelmas moon,And the might of Mary high,And by the edge of my braidsword…

Wake thy wild voice anew,Summon Clan-Conuil.Come away, come away,Hark to the summons!Come in your war array,Gentles and commons.Come from deep glen andFrom mountain so rocky,The war-pipe and pennonAre at Inverlochy.Come every hill-plaid andTrue heart that wears one,Come every steel blade andStrong hand that bears one.Leave untended the herd,The flock without shelter;Leave the corpse uninterr’d,The bride…

And fall’n Glenartney’s stateliest tree;We ne’er shall see Lord Ronald more!’ –O, sprung from great Macgillianore,The chief that never fear’d a foe,How matchless was thy broad claymore,How deadly thine unerring bow!Well can the Saxon widows tell,How, on the Teith’s resounding shore,The boldest Lowland warriors fell,As down from Lenny’s pass you bore.But o’er his hills, in…

May boast itself the fairest flowerIn glen, or copse, or forest dingle.Though fair her gems of azure hue,Beneath the dew-drop’s weight reclining;I’ve seen an eye of lovelier blue,More sweet through wat’ry lustre shining.The summer sun that dew shall dry,Ere yet the day be past its morrow;No longer in my false love’s eyeRemain’d the tear of…

From the body pass away;-Hark! the mass is singing.From thee doff thy mortal weed,Mary Mother be thy speed,Saints to help thee at thy need;-Hark! the knell is ringing.Fear not snow-drift driving fast,Sleet, or hail, or levin blast;Soon the shroud shall lap thee fast,And the sleep be on thee castThat shall ne’er know waking.Haste thee, haste…

come again!Donald Caird’s come again!Tell the news in brugh and glen,Donald Caird’s come again!Donald Caird can lilt and sing,Blithely dance the Hieland fling,Drink till the gudeman be blind,Fleech till the gudewife be kind;Hoop a leglin, clout a pan,Or crack a pow wi’ ony man;Tell the news in brugh and glen,Donald Caird’s come again.Donald Caird’s come…

And hope is brightest when it dawns from fears;The rose is sweetest washed with morning dewAnd love is loveliest when embalmed in tears.O wilding rose, whom fancy thus endears,I bid your blossoms in my bonnet wave,Emblem of hope and love through future years!’Thus spoke young Norman, heir of Armandave,What time the sun arose on Vennachar’s…

Veiled nun and friar greyMarch’d from Bangor’s fair Abbaye;High their holy anthem sounds,Cestria’s vale the hymn rebounds,Floating down the silvan Dee,O miserere, Domine!On the long procession goes,Glory round their crosses glows,And the Virgin-mother mildIn their peaceful banner smiled;Who could think such saintly bandDoom’d to feel unhallow’d hand?Such was the Divine decree,O miserere, Domine!Bands that masses…

A stranger commanded —- it sunk on the land,It has frozen each heart, and benumb’d every hand!The dirk and the target lie sordid with dust,The bloodless claymore is but redden’d with rust;On the hill or the glen if a gun should appear,It is only to war with the heath-cock or deer.The deeds of our sires…

From his true maiden’s breastParted for ever?Where, through groves deep and highSounds the far billow,Where early violets dieUnder the willow.Eleu loroSoft shall be his pillow.There through the summer dayCool streams are laving:There, while the tempests sway,Scarce are boughs waving;There thy rest shalt thou take,Parted for ever,Never again to wakeNever, O never!Eleu loroNever, O never!Where shall…

The Minstrel was infirm and old;His wither’d cheek, and tresses gray,Seem’d to have known a better day;The harp, his sole remaining joy,Was carried by an orphan boy.The last of all the Bards was he,Who sung of Border chivalry;For, welladay! their date was fled,His tuneful brethren all were dead;And he, neglected and oppress’d,Wish’d to be with…

Then, cloaking hate with fiery zeal,Proud Lorn first answered the appeal; –‘Thou comest, O holy man,True sons of blessed church to greet,But little deeming here to meetA wretch, beneath the banOf Pope and Church, for murder doneEven on the sacred altar-stone!-Well mayst thou wonder we should knowSuch miscreant here, nor lay him low,Or dream of…

Where many a bold retainer lay,And with jocund din among them all,Her son pursued his infant play.A fancied moss-trooper, the boyThe truncheon of a spear bestrode,And round the hall right merrilyIn mimic foray rode.Even bearded knights, in arms grown old,Share in his frolic gambols bore,Albeit their hearts of rugged mouldWere stubborn as the steel they…

Lives there a strain, whose sounds of mounting fireMay rise distinguished o’er the din of war;Or died it with yon Master of the LyreWho sung beleaguered Ilion’s evil star?Such, WELLINGTON, might reach thee from afar,Wafting its descant wide o’er Ocean’s range;Nor shouts, nor clashing arms, its mood could mar,All, as it swelled ‘twixt each loud…

May boast itself the fairest flowerIn glen, or copse, or forest dingle.Though fair her gems of azure hue,Beneath the dew-drop’s weight reclining;I’ve seen an eye of lovelier blue,More sweet through wat’ry lustre shining.The summer sun that dew shall dry,Ere yet the day be past its morrow;No longer in my false love’s eyeRemain’d the tear of…

Full proudly may thy branches wave,Where loyalty lies low in death,And valour fills a timeless grave.And thou, brave tenant of the tomb!Repine not if our clime deny,Above thine honoured sod to bloom,The flowerets of a milder sky.These owe their birth to genial May;Beneath a fiercer sun they pine,Before the winter storm decay-And can their worth…

‘This is my own, my native land!’Whose heart hath ne’er within him burn’dAs home his footsteps he hath turn’dFrom wandering on a foreign strand?If such there breathe, go, mark him well;For him no Minstrel raptures swell;High though his titles, proud his name,Boundless his wealth as wish can claim;Despite those titles, power, and pelf,The wretch, concentred…

‘This is my own, my native land!’Whose heart hath ne’er within him burned,As home his footsteps he hath turned,From wandering on a foreign strand!If such there breathe, go, mark him well;For him no Minstrel raptures swell;High though his titles, proud his name,Boundless his wealth as wish can claim;Despite those titles, power, and pelf,The wretch, concentred…