Page:The Book of Scottish Song.djvu/86

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68
SCOTTISH SONGS.

Short syne we were wonderfu' canty,
Our friends and our country to see
But since the proud Consul's grown vauntie,
We'll meet him by land or by sea.
Wherever a clan is disloyal,
Wherever our king has a foe,
He'll quickly see Donald Macdonald,
Wi' his Highlanders a' in a row.
Guns, and pistols, and a',
Pistols, and guns, and a';
He'll quickly see Donald Macdonald,
Wi' guns, and pistols, and a'.

What though we befreendit young Charlie?
To tell it I dinna think shame;
Puir lad! he cam' to us but barely,
And reckon'd our mountains his hame.
It's true that our reason forbade us,
But tenderness carried the day;
Had Geordie come friendless amang us,
Wi' him we had a' gane away.
Sword, and buckler, and a',
Buckler, and sword, and a';
For George we'll encounter the devil,
Wi' sword, and buckler, and a'.

And O I wad eagerly press him
The keys o' the East to retain;
For should he gi'e up the possession,
We'll soon ha'e to force them again:
Than yield up an inch wi' dishonour,
Though it were my finishln' blow,
He aye may depend on Macdonald,
Wi' his Highlandmen all in a row.
Knees, and elbows, and a',
Elbows, and knees, and a';
Depend upon Donald Macdonald,
His knees, and elbows, and a'.

If Bonaparte land at Fort-William,
Auld Europe nae langer shall grane;
I laugh when I think how we'll gall him
Wi' bullet, wi' steel, and wi' stane:
Wi' rocks o' the Nevis and Garny
We'll rattle him aff frae our shore,
Or lull him asleep in a cairnie,
And sing him Lochaber no more!
Stanes, and bullets, and a'.
Bullets, and stanes, and a';
We'll finish the Corsican callau
Wi' stanes, and bullets, and a'.

The Gordon is gude in a hurry;
And Campbell is steel to the bane,
And Grant, and Mackenzie, and Murray,
And Cameron, will hurkle to nane;
The Stuart is sturdy and wannel;
And sae is Macleod and Mackay;
And I, their gude-brither, Macdonald,
Sall never be last in the fray.
Brogues, and brochan, and a',
Brochan, and brogues, and a';
And up wi' the bonnie blue bonnet,
The kilt, and feather, and a'.




Dundee.

[Written by Thomas Smibert to the old set of the air of "Dundee," as found in the Skene MS.]

Fare thee weel, thou bonnie river,
Rowin' by my ain Dundee;
Aft in days gane by for ever,
Thou hast borne my love and me.
Thou hast heard, in days departed,
Vows that nane could hear but thee;
Now thou seest me broken-hearted—
Tay, adieu! adieu, Dundee!

On thy waves a light is fa'in',
Ruddy as the rose in June;
Some may trow it is the dawin'
Glinting frae the lift abune:
But I ken thou'rt only blushing
That a maid so false could be!
Like thy springs my tears are gushing—
Tay, adieu! adieu, Dundee!




The bonnie Redesdale Lassie.

[Robert White of Newcastle.—Here printed for the first time.]

The breath o' spring is gratefu',
As mild it sweeps alang,
Awaukening bud an' blossom
The broomy braes amang;
And wafting notes o' gladness
Fra ilka bower and tree;
Yet the bonnie Redesdale lassie
Is sweeter still to me!