THE CELTIC MONTHLY.
(Donald of the Banner.)
THE PATRIOT'S WELCOME HOME.
[When the Clau Chattan standard bearer fell at
Cullodeu in the impetuou.9 rush upon Cumberland's
second line, in which the clan was nearly annihi-
lated, a brave clansman named Donald Mac-
kintosh — afterwards known as Dombnull-na-
Brataich — tore the banner from its staff, wrapped
it round his breast and carried it safely from the
Up with the banner, ye sons of Clan Chattan,
Yonder the foemen their standards display ;
Up with the grey brindled cat of the forest,
Fierce be its spring on the Saxon to-day.
Yonder the foemen's red columns are forming.
Gunners unlimber, and cannon they prime ;
Over the heath rolls the smoke and the thunder.
Tongues of tire darting along their whole line.
Straight come their cannon balls, thick come their
Surer their aim and more deadly than ours ;
O for the order to charge with the claymore.
Short fleeting minutes seem stretched into hours.
On with the banner, MacGillivray our leader
Is waving at last o'er his head the claymore ;
Join with one voice in the heart-stirring slogan.
High let it sound o'er the cannon's loud roar.
Now for our Prince and our country or never,
Traitors the weight of our claymores shall feel ;
On in the teeth of the snow.storm and bullets,
Rush on the foemen's defences of steel.
Down, as the storm lays the trees of the forest,
Cumberland's red-coated veterans go,
Down 'neath a torrent of steel and of tartan,
Helmet and skull cleft in twain at a blow.
On with the banner o'er those that have fallen.
Yonder, the second red line of the foe ,
On with it faster, my God ! what a volley,
The bravest and best of Clan Chattan laid low.
Down is MacGillivray, our fearless brave leader,
Down is the matchless heroic MacBean,
Angus of Farr, and his gallant leal brother,
Dallas the handsome, and dauntless Mact,)ueen.
Gillies and Davidson lie on the heather.
Still grasping tightly the reeking claymore,
Brave Shaw and Farquhar have fallen together,
Shoulder to shoulder to battle no more.
Doivn is the banner, the bearer has fallen,
Bravely this day he held it on high ;
Pick it up Donald, the clansmen are scattered,
Wrap it around thee, my hero, and fly.
Flee to the mountains, the Saxon shall never
Bear as a trophy our flag from the tield ;
Flee to the mountains, the crag and the forest
Must now be our hiding place, bulwark and
ihiind.i, Anous Mackintosh.
^^''TT-y^HAUR Umpire Tweed rows on his way,
V/\,^i Yestreen I gae him greetin'; —
"You're still at that forfoughten play-
To keep them baitli frae meetin' ! "
His liquid notes less liquid flowed,
I couldna just divine them ;
This was the ower-word o' the ode,
" Laith wad I be ; I join them."'
Fu' sune the shilpit patriot flew.
But no the patriot leal :
This side o' Tweed I aye shall lo'e.
The side that kens a creel.
The bits o' blooms that met my e'e,
Certes, but they were waddie !
Now wat ye how they welcomed me —
They kent a Hielant laddie.
The thistle reared his buirdly crown,
An'. "Nemo me,"' — began,
But changed his tune, and said, "Eh. loon!
What gart ye bide sae lang I "
Far owre the muir as e'e could scan
The heather smiled upon it ;
I ca'd a sprig frae out the clan —
It nestled i' my bonnet.
Right regal in its rocky height
Waved sweet the winsome bell ;
Whan — lightened wi' an unco light
The dern upon the dell 1
The wee bit gowan i' the howe.
Afore the gloamin' fell,
• Just closed it's e'e — but, did I vow
Its whisper ne'er to tell !
The lav'rock lilted i' the lift ;
The Untie on the bough ;
I used to grien thy witching gift,
Sweet Philomel ! but now
Dost blame if here I had forgot
What late to me thou'st sung ?
For on the merle's an' mavis' note
I thought the Doric hung.
Fu' sweet, lang syne, thy rugged smile
Oh, Scotia, was to me;
But ask the haimert lane exile
How sweet a smile can be.
The Glasgow Cowal Societv have just ended
the session with a balance at their credit of £969
IGs. 9d., and a membership of 408.
The EiiiNBURUH Celtic Union have re-elected
Captain William Morrison as President. The
distinguished Captain is a native of Durness, the
land of Rob Donn, the Gaelic bard.