Gi'e pillar'd fame to common men,-- Nae need o' cairns for ane like thee; In every cave, wood, hill, and glen, "WALLACE" remember'd aye shall be.

THE AULD HOUSE.

Oh, the auld house, the auld house!

What though the rooms were wee?

Oh, kind hearts were dwelling there, And bairnies fu' o' glee!

The wild-rose and the jesamine Still hang upon the wa'; How mony cherish'd memories Do they, sweet flowers, reca'!

Oh, the auld laird, the auld laird!

Sae canty, kind, and crouse; How mony did he welcome to His ain wee dear auld house!

And the leddy too, sae genty, There shelter'd Scotland's heir, And clipt a lock wi' her ain hand Frae his lang yellow hair.

The mavis still doth sweetly sing, The blue bells sweetly blaw, The bonnie Earn 's clear winding still, But the auld house is awa'.

The auld house, the auld house, Deserted though ye be, There ne'er can be a new house, Will seem sae fair to me.

Still flourishing the auld pear tree The bairnies liked to see, And oh, how aften did they speir When ripe they a' wad be!

The voices sweet, the wee bit feet Aye rinnin' here and there, The merry shout--oh! whiles we greet To think we 'll hear nae mair.

For they are a' wide scatter'd now, Some to the Indies gane, And ane, alas! to her lang hame; Not here we 'll meet again.

The kirkyaird, the kirkyaird, Wi' flowers o' every hue, Shelter'd by the holly's shade, An' the dark sombre yew.

The setting sun, the setting sun, How glorious it gaed down; The cloudy splendour raised our hearts To cloudless skies aboon!

The auld dial, the auld dial, It tauld how time did pa.s.s; The wintry winds hae dung it down,-- Now hid 'mang weeds and gra.s.s.

THE HUNDRED PIPERS.[59]

AIR--_"Hundred Pipers."_

Wi' a hundred pipers, an' a', an' a', Wi' a hundred pipers, an' a', an' a', We 'll up, and we 'll gi'e them a blaw, a blaw, Wi' a hundred pipers, an' a', an' a'.

It is ower the border, awa', awa', It is ower the border, awa', awa', Oh, we 'll on, an' we 'll march to Carlisle ha', Wi' its yetts, its castel, an' a', an' a'.

Oh, our brave sodger lads look'd braw, an' braw, Wi' their tartans, their kilts, an' a', an' a', Wi' bannets an' feathers, an' glittrin' gear, An' pibrochs soundin' sae sweet an' clear.

Will they a' come hame to their ain dear glen?

Will they a' return, our brave Hieland men?

Oh, second-sighted Sandie look'd fu' wae, An' mithers grat sair whan they march'd away.

Wi' a hundred pipers, &c.

Oh, wha is the foremaist o' a', o' a'?

Wha is it first follows the blaw, the blaw?

Bonnie Charlie, the king o' us a', us a', Wi' his hundred pipers, an' a', an' a'.

His bannet and feather, he 's waving high, His prancin' steed maist seems to fly; The nor' wind plays wi' his curly hair, While the pipers blaw up an unco flare!

Wi' his hundred pipers, &c.

The Esk was swollen sae red an' sae deep, But shouther to shouther the brave lads keep; Twa thousand swam ower to fell English ground, An' danced themselves dry to the pibroch sound.

Dumfounder'd the English were a', were a', Dumfounder'd they a' heard the blaw, the blaw, Dumfounder'd they a' ran awa', awa', Frae the hundred pipers, an' a', an' a'.

Wi' a hundred pipers, &c.

[59] "Charles Edward entered Carlisle preceded by a hundred pipers. Two thousand Highlanders crossed the Esk, at Longtown; the tide being swollen, nothing was seen of them but their heads and shoulders; they stemmed the force of the stream, and lost not a man in the pa.s.sage: when landed, the pipers struck up, and they danced reels until they were dry again."--_Authentic Account of Occupation of Carlisle, by George G.

Monsey._

THE WOMEN ARE A' GANE WUD.[60]

The women are a' gane wud, Oh, that he had biden awa'!

He 's turn'd their heads, the lad, And ruin will bring on us a'.

George was a peaceable man, My wife she did doucely behave; But now dae a' that I can, She 's just as wild as the lave.

My wife she wears the c.o.c.kade, 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 pa.s.s, 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 gra.s.s 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.