Blair Collection > Poems and songs
(25)
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CUMIIA LE LOCIIIAL. 13
To wear a foreign yoke I'd spurn,
Nor 'gainst my lawful king rebel,
That crown and sceptre 's from him torn,
For mercy's cause, they're fain to tell.
In Dutch or Guelph doth mercy dwell,
Ye gallant heroes of Glencoe,
Arise in gory shrouds, and tell
Your mournful tale of dool and woe.
And I'ise, ye brave, whose blood did flow
On dark Culloden's dreary moor,
And tell how when ye were laid low.
That " Butcher's " hand did stab ye o'er.
Oh, hush ! my heart, and grieve no more,
This is no time to sit and rest,
I'll hie me to a foreign shore,
And long to get thy wrongs redressed.
Sweet home, within thee every breast
Did glow with love and purity,
And round thy hearth the stranger guest
Met kindest hospitality.
And though I roam beyond the sea,
I'll ne'er forget the golden hours
AVhen I had ruled — a chieftain free,
'Mong Achnacarry's fairy bowers.
'Tis gore bedews the drooping flowers.
That now bedecks each dappled dell
Around thy ruined ancient towers,
Home of my heart, farewell, farewell !
Now Luna's lamp lights up the glen.
And I must hide from watchful foes,
I'll hie to where my prince has lain
In " balmy sleep " to drown his woes.
To wear a foreign yoke I'd spurn,
Nor 'gainst my lawful king rebel,
That crown and sceptre 's from him torn,
For mercy's cause, they're fain to tell.
In Dutch or Guelph doth mercy dwell,
Ye gallant heroes of Glencoe,
Arise in gory shrouds, and tell
Your mournful tale of dool and woe.
And I'ise, ye brave, whose blood did flow
On dark Culloden's dreary moor,
And tell how when ye were laid low.
That " Butcher's " hand did stab ye o'er.
Oh, hush ! my heart, and grieve no more,
This is no time to sit and rest,
I'll hie me to a foreign shore,
And long to get thy wrongs redressed.
Sweet home, within thee every breast
Did glow with love and purity,
And round thy hearth the stranger guest
Met kindest hospitality.
And though I roam beyond the sea,
I'll ne'er forget the golden hours
AVhen I had ruled — a chieftain free,
'Mong Achnacarry's fairy bowers.
'Tis gore bedews the drooping flowers.
That now bedecks each dappled dell
Around thy ruined ancient towers,
Home of my heart, farewell, farewell !
Now Luna's lamp lights up the glen.
And I must hide from watchful foes,
I'll hie to where my prince has lain
In " balmy sleep " to drown his woes.
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Early Gaelic Book Collections > Blair Collection > Poems and songs > (25) |
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Permanent URL | https://digital.nls.uk/76082302 |
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Description | Gaelic and English. |
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Shelfmark | Blair.83 |
Additional NLS resources: | |
Attribution and copyright: |
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More information |
Description | A selection of books from a collection of more than 500 titles, mostly on religious and literary topics. Also includes some material dealing with other Celtic languages and societies. Collection created towards the end of the 19th century by Lady Evelyn Stewart Murray. |
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Description | Selected items from five 'Special and Named Printed Collections'. Includes books in Gaelic and other Celtic languages, works about the Gaels, their languages, literature, culture and history. |
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