the red streamer that heralds the day,
Over the cloudlet dim,
Over the rainbow's rim,
Musical cherub, soar, singing, away!
Then, when the gloaming comes,
Low in the heather blooms,
Sweet will thy welcome and bed of love be!
Emblem of happiness,
Blest is thy dwelling-place--
O to abide in the desert with thee!
_ALLAN CUNNINGHAM_
THE YOUNG MAXWELL
'WHERE gang ye, thou silly auld carle?
And what do you carry there?'
I'm gaun to the hillside, thou sodger gentleman,
To shift my sheep their lair.'
Ae stride or twa took the silly auld carle,
An' a gude lang stride took he:
'I trow thou to be a feck auld carle,
Will ye shaw the way to me?'
And he has gane wi' the silly auld carle,
Adown by the greenwood side;
'Light down and gang, thou sodger gentleman,
For here ye canny ride.'
He drew the reins o' his bonny gray steed,
An' lightly down he sprang:
Of the comeliest scarlet was his weir coat,
Whare the gowden tassels hang.
He has thrown aff his plaid, the silly auld carle,
An' his bonnet frae 'boon his bree;
An' wha was it but the young Maxwell!
An' his gude brown sword drew he!
'Thou killed my father, thou vile South'ron!
An' ye killed my brethren three!
Whilk brake the heart o' my ae sister,
I loved as the light o' my e'e!
'Draw out thy sword, thou vile South'ron
Red wat wi' blude o' my kin!
That sword it crapped the bonniest flower
E'er lifted its head to the sun!
'There's ae sad stroke for my dear auld father!
There's twa for my brethren three!
An' there's ane to thy heart for my ae sister,
Wham I loved as the light o' my e'e.'
HAME, HAME, HAME
HAME, hame, hame, hame fain wad I be,
O hame, hame, hame, to my ain countrie!
When the flower is i' the bud, and the leaf is on the tree,
The larks shall sing me hame in my ain countrie;
Hame, hame, hame, hame fain wad I be,
O hame, hame, hame, to my ain countrie!
The green leaf o' loyalty's begun for to fa',
The bonny white rose it is withering an' a';
But I'll water't wi' the blude of usurping tyrannie,
An' green it will grow in my ain countrie.
Hame, hame, hame, hame fain wad I be,
O hame, hame, hame to my ain countrie!
O there's naught frae ruin my country can save,
But the keys o' kind heaven to open the grave,
That a' the noble martyrs wha died for loyaltie,
May rise again and fight for their ain countrie.
Hame, hame, hame, hame fain wad I be,
O hame, hame, hame, to my ain countrie!
The great are now gane, a' wha ven
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