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all attempts to persuade him to acknowledge the justice of his sentence were fruitless."
The ballad was once much longer and more particular; but Mr Thomson shortened it to suit a page, and, as usual, I have no original copy.
Now cease of auld ferlies to tell us,
That happen'd nane living kens when ;
Wha lived in the wild Highland glen.
For lost was Culloden's sad day;
And 0, but poor Donald was wae!
They keekit out o’er the wild correi,
The towers of Clan-Ranald were gone;
Lochaber was herried and lone!
The last o' their shealings to see ;
“ There's naething but sorrow for me!"
Now our three noble lads are in hiding,
Afar in Glen-Moriston's height;
And the moon is their candle by night.
As looking o'er ravage and death, And blamed their ain prince, Charlie Stuart,
For causing the Highlands sic skaith.
Ae night they sat fearfu' o' danger,
And snappit their kebbuck fu’ keen, When in came a stately young stranger,
As ragged as man e'er was seen. They hadna weel lookit around them
Till tears cam happing like rain“ You're welcome, young Dugald M'Cluny;
For a' you see here is your ain !”
Each kend the brave wreck of Culloden,
But dared not to mention his name,
Lest one of the three had betray'd him,
And cover'd their country wi’ shame.
They served him with eager devotion,
They clad him from shoulder to tae, Spread his board from the moor and the ocean,
And watch'd o'er him a’ the lang day.
They had not a plack in their coffer,
They had not a ewe on the brae, Yet kend o'mair goud in their offer
Than they could have carried away. Now crack o' your Grecian and Roman !
We've cast them a' back in the shade; Gie me a leal-hearted M‘Donald,
Wi' nought but his dirk and his plaid !
The sun shines sweet on the heather,
When tempests are over and gane; But honour shines bright in all weather,
Through poverty, hardship, and pain. Though we had ne'er heard o' Clan-Ronald's
Nor gallant Glengarry's wild sway, The names of the loyal M‘Donalds
Had flourish'd for ever and aye !
WHEN THE KYE COMES HAME.
In the title and chorus of this favourite pastoral song, I choose rather to violate a rule in grammar, than a Scottish phrase so common, that when it is altered into the proper way, every shepherd and shepherd's sweetheart account it
I was once singing it at a wedding with great glee the latter way, (“ when the kye come hame,”) when a tailor, scratching his head, said, “ It was a terrible affectit way that.!" I stood corrected, and have never sung it so again. It is to the old air of “ Shame fa’ the gear and the blathrie o't,” with an additional chorus. It is set to music in the Noctes, at which it was first sung, and in no other place that I am aware of.
Come all ye jolly shepherds
That whistle through the glen,
That courtiers dinna ken :
That the tongue o' man can name?
When the kye comes hame.
When the kye comes hame,
When the kye comes hame, 'Tween the gloaming and the mirk,
When the kye comes hame.
'Tis not beneath the coronet,
Nor canopy of state, 'Tis not on couch of velvet,
Nor arbour of the great'Tis beneath the spreading birk,
In the glen without the name, Wi' a bonny, bonny lassie, When the kye comes hame.
When the kye comes hame, &c.
There the blackbird bigs his nest
For the mate he loes to see,
O, a happy bird is he;
And love is a' the theme,