ell.

[49] Mr J. G. Lockhart.

DONALD MACDONALD.

AIR--_"Woo'd, and married, and a'."_

My name it is Donald Macdonald,
I leeve in the Highlands sae grand;
I hae follow'd our banner, and will do,
Wherever my master[50] has land.
When rankit amang the blue bonnets,
Nae danger can fear me ava;
I ken that my brethren around me
Are either to conquer or fa':
Brogues an' brochin an' a',
Brochin an' brogues an' a';
An' is nae her very weel aff,
Wi' her brogues and brochin an' a'?

What though we befriendit young Charlie?--
To tell it I dinna think shame;
Poor lad! he cam to us but barely,
An' reckon'd our mountains his hame.
'Twas true that our reason forbade us,
But tenderness carried the day;
Had Geordie come friendless amang us,
Wi' him we had a' gane away.
Sword an' buckler an' a',
Buckler an' sword an' a';
Now for George we 'll encounter the devil,
Wi' sword an' buckler and a'!

An' O, I wad eagerly press him
The keys o' the East to retain;
For should he gie up the possession,
We 'll soon hae to force them again,
Than yield up an inch wi' dishonour,
Though it were my finishing blow,
He aye may depend on Macdonald,
Wi' his Hielanders a' in a row:
Knees an' elbows an' a',
Elbows an' knees an' a';
Depend upon Donald Macdonald,
His knees an' elbows an' a'.

Wad Bonaparte land at Fort William,
Auld Europe nae langer should grane;
I laugh when I think how we 'd gall him
Wi' bullet, wi' steel, an wi' stane;
Wi' rocks o' the Nevis and Garny
We 'd rattle him off frae our shore,
Or lull him asleep in a cairny,
An' sing him--"Lochaber no more!"
Stanes an' bullets an a',
Bullets an' stanes an' a';
We 'll finish the Corsican callan
Wi' stanes an' bullets an' a'.

For the Gordon is good in a hurry,
An' Campbell is steel to the bane,
An' Grant, an' Mackenzie, an' Murray,
An' Cameron will hurkle to nane;
The Stuart is sturdy an' loyal,
An' sae is Macleod an' Mackay;
An' I, their gude-brither Macdonald,
Shall ne'er be the last in the fray!
Brogues and brochin an' a',
Brochin an' brogues an' a';
An' up wi' the bonny