My wife she wears the cockade,
Tho’ I ’ve
bidden her no to do sae,
She has a true friend in her
maid,
And they ne’er
mind a word that I say.
The wild Hieland lads as they
pass,
The yetts wide
open do flee;
They eat the very house bare,
And nae leave
‘s speer’d o’ me.
I ‘ve lived a’
my days in the Strath
Now Tories infest
me at hame,
And tho’ I tak nae side
at a’,
Baith sides will
gae me the blame.
The senseless creturs ne’er
think
What ill the lad
wad bring back;
The Pope we ’d hae,
and the d—l,
And a’ the
rest o’ his pack.
[60] These verses are printed from a MS. in possession of one of Lady Nairn’s friends, and are, the Editor believes, for the first time published.
JEANIE DEANS.[61]
St Leonard’s hill was
lightsome land,
Where gowan’d
grass was growin’,
For man and beast were food
and rest,
And milk and honey
flowin’.
A father’s blessing
follow’d close,
Where’er
her foot was treading,
And Jeanie’s humble,
hamely joys
On every side
were spreading wide,
On every side
were spreading.
The mossy turf on Arthur’s
Seat,
St Anthon’s
well aye springin’;
The lammies playing at her
feet,
The birdies round
her singin’.
The solemn haunts o’
Holyrood,
Wi’ bats
and hoolits eerie,
The tow’ring crags o’
Salisbury,
The lowly wells
o’ Weary, O[62]
The lowly wells
o’ Weary.
But evil days and evil men,
Came ower their
sunny dwellin’,
Like thunder-storms on sunny
skies,
Or wastefu’
waters swellin’.
What aince was sweet is bitter
now,
The sun of joy
is setting;
In eyes that wont to glame
wi’ glee,
The briny tear
is wetting fast,
The briny tear
is wetting.
Her inmost thoughts to Heaven
is sent,
In faithful supplication;
Her earthly stay ’s
Macallummore,
The guardian o’
the nation.
A hero’s heart—a
sister’s love—
A martyr’s
truth unbending;
They ‘re a’ in
Jeanie’s tartan plaid—
And she is gane,
her leefu’ lane,
To Lunnon toun
she ’s wending!
[61] The romantic scenery depicted in this song is in the immediate vicinity of the Queen’s Drive, Edinburgh.
[62] The wells of Weary are situated near the Windyknowe, beneath Salisbury Crags.
THE HEIRESS.[63]
GAELIC AIR—"Mo Leannan Falnich."
I ’ll no
be had for naething,
I ’ll no
be had for naething,
I tell ye, lads,
that ’s ae thing,
So
ye needna follow me.
Oh, the change is most surprising,
Last year I was
plain Betty Brown,
Now to me they ‘re a’
aspiring,—
The fair Elizabeth
I am grown!