ers," her longest
and most ambitious poetical effort, exhibits some glowing descriptions
of mountain scenery, and the stern though simple manners of the Gael. Of
a few songs which proceed from her pen, that commencing, "Oh, where,
tell me where?" written on the occasion of the Marquis of Huntly's
departure for Holland with his regiment, in 1799, has only become
generally known. It has been parodied in a song, by an unknown author,
entitled "The Blue Bells of Scotland," which has obtained a wider range
of popularity.

OH, WHERE, TELL ME WHERE?

"Oh, where, tell me where, is your Highland laddie gone?
Oh, where, tell me where, is your Highland laddie gone?"
"He 's gone, with streaming banners, where noble deeds are done,
And my sad heart will tremble till he come safely home.
He 's gone, with streaming banners, where noble deeds are done,
And my sad heart will tremble till he come safely home."

"Oh, where, tell me where, did your Highland laddie stay?
Oh, where, tell me where, did your Highland laddie stay?"
"He dwelt beneath the holly-trees, beside the rapid Spey,
And many a blessing follow'd him, the day he went away.
He dwelt beneath the holly-trees, beside the rapid Spey,
And many a blessing follow'd him, the day he went away."

"Oh, what, tell me what, does your Highland laddie wear?
Oh, what, tell me what, does your Highland laddie wear?"
"A bonnet with a lofty plume, the gallant badge of war,
And a plaid across the manly breast that yet shall wear a star;
A bonnet with a lofty plume, the gallant badge of war,
And a plaid across the manly breast that yet shall wear a star."

"Suppose, ah, suppose, that some cruel, cruel wound,
Should pierce your Highland laddie, and all your hopes confound!"
"The pipe would play a cheering march, the banners round him fly;
The spirit of a Highland chief would lighten in his eye;
The pipe would play a cheering march, the banners round him fly,
And for his king and country dear with pleasure he would die!"

"But I will hope to see him yet, in Scotland's bonny bounds;
But I will hope to see him yet, in Scotland's bonny bounds.
His native land of liberty shall nurse his glorious wounds,
While, wide through all our Highland hills, his warlike name resounds;
His native land of liberty shall nurse his glorious wounds,
While, wide through all our Highland