See how they wane, the proud files of the Windermere, Howard-Ah! woe to thy hopes of the day! Hear the wide welkin rend, While the Scots' shouts ascend, "Elliot of Lariston, Elliot for aye!" Her form was the fairest o' Nature's design, The little pale flow'rets blush deep for thy blame; And eyes that have depths o' the ocean of blue, THE GATHERING OF THE CLANS. THIS Jacobite ballad is likewise harmonized by Bishop, in the Select Melodies, but was originally composed to the popular Irish air, "St Patrick's Day in the Morning." THERE'S news come ower the Highlands yestreen Shine over the shore in the morning. He comes, he comes, our spirits to cheer, To banish the reaver, The base deceiver, And raise the fame of the clans for ever; Our Prince's array Is in Moidart bay, Come, raise the clamour Of bagpipes' yamour, And join our loved Prince in the morning. Come, brave Lochiel, the honour be thine, The first in loyal array to shine; If bold Clan-Ranald and thee combine, Then who dares remain in the morning? Glengarry will stand with arm of steel, And Keppoch is blood from head to heel; The Whiggers o' Sky may gang to the deil, When Connal and Donald, And gallant Clan-Ranald, Are all in array, And hasting away To welcome their Prince in the morning. The Appin will come while coming is good, The stern M'Intosh is of trusty blood, M'Kenzie and Fraser Will come at their leisure, The Whiggers of Sutherland scorning; The Atholmen keen as fire from steel, M'Pherson for Charlie will battle the deil, The hardy Clan-Donnoch Is up in the Rannoch, Unawed by the pride of haughty Argyle, And lordly Drummond Is belted, and coming To join his loved Prince in the morning. Come all that are true men, steel to the bane, Come all that reflect on the days that are gane, Come all that hae breeks and all that hae nane, And all that are bred unto sorning Come Moidart and Moy, M'Gun and M'Craw, M'Dugalds, M'Donalds, M'Devils, an' a', M'Duffs an' M' Dumpies, M'Leods an' M'Lumpies, With claymores gleaming, For weel or for woe, |