Blair Collection > Songs and hymns of the Scottish Highlands

Solemnly.
BAS-DEATH.
ket/:s, is, :1| ;d |r :-:f Is :
"■ Vse rao| bheachd ort, a Bhaia, Gurlbrai!
n :d |r
s In : r :d 1 1,: -
1 brais' thu ri pairt, 'S gml teachdaire laid -
All cog-adh no'm bl;\r Cha toir-ear do sh:\r, 'S aon duine cha'n fhàir
O Death, thou art still A herald o! Ill, Thy grasp, hard and chill,
Where warri - ors fight Tliou showest thy might, To shun thee no flight
:f,|s,:-
Ir 1 trèun
do threig
ne"er fail
a ■ vail
Id:
tim.
:?2;-
/:n lf:n:f|s;-:sll:s:nlr:-:d|f -niflsi-iflnt-t-lsi-^
* Acli 's 1 teaclnlair ro dhhii Thu'tighinn os àird, Oir [buailidhtu stataibh "s Ideirc - ean, Ì
O messenger drear, No pity or fear Saves peasant or peer before thee ;
ig^ii^i^g^^^^i^
:n |s :- :n Ir :n :d |r :- :s |n:r :d |1,
lliuu liust but ilisi-Iain,
'S til I (ihensbhuidh an ti
And victims in vain
- :f,ls,:- :- Id :
nu'n|tei,l Ihu,
implore thee.
Glacairlh tu chloinn,
A mach bho na bliniinn,
Wn's faic iad an suills' air eigin ;
(ilacaidh tn 'n oigh,
Itul an coinnimh an oig,
Mii'm faodar am posadh eigheachd ;
Ma's beag no ma's nior
Ma's sean no ma's ojr.
Ma's cleacbdadh dhninn coir no eucoir;
Ma tba sinn 'n ar beo,
Is anail 'n ar sroin,
Cuirear uile sinn £o na feich ud.
A Chumliachd a tha
Cur h-ugainn a' bhais,
Gun teaftamli nach pai;,'liear fheich da,
Tha misneach is bonn
Aig neach a tha 'n geall
Air tagradli na gheall do bheul da.
(Jir 's Athair do chlann
A dh' fheithe.as a th' ann,
'S fear-ta.ighe do'n bbantraich fein e ;
'S e'n ( 'ruithear a th' ann,
A bheir gu neo-gbann,
Na thoilleas sinn anns a' chreutair.
The babe at its birth.
Ere sorrow or mirth
It linows upon earth, thou takest ;
For the maid to be wed,
Kre to church she is led.
An eerisome bed thou makest.
If old or if young.
If feeble or strong
In wisdom or wrong and error;
If small or if great.
Whatever our state,
VVe have the same fate of terror.
O Power, from whom
Our sorrowful doom
Of death and tho tomb descendeth,
How liapijy is he
Whose confident plea
On Thy promises free dependeth I
Our Father Thou art,
The widow's sure p.irt.
Ne'er shall Thy support forsake her ;
All good is bestowed,
All favour is shewed
By our bountiful God and Maker.
Words selected from an elegy by EoB DoNN ; translated by L. JIacBean. The air is also by Rob Dcnn, and
s published in Poitular Gaelic Melodies, 1S77.