Blair Collection > Treatise on the language, poetry, and music of the Highland clans

OF THE HIGHLAND CLANS.
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my own voice ; and, although I was anything but pleased with the melodies
when played from the copies, I hoped that Mr Wilson's superior voice and
memory would enable him to make something like the originals out of them.
Mr Wilson wrote to me expressing himself pleased with the traditions and
verses, but declared that " the soul was taken out of the melodies." He was
preparing for his visit to Canada, and said that he would come to see me on
his return, and learn them " by heart" from my own voice ; but he never
returned. These are the traditions and verses which I published in Tait's
Magazine in May 1849. I beg leave to submit the imitation of one of these
songs here, rather than a literal translation of the original. The last English
verse was added by myself.
CALLUM A GHLINNE. — MALCOLM OF THE GLEN.
Mo chailinn donn eg 's mo uighean dubh My auburn-haired maid, so fair and
mo chayliii donn og s mo ni'-en duv COmely
thogarrach,
hoga-rach
Thogainn ort fonn 's neo throm gu'n So sprightly and gay, so kind and
hog-ayn ort fonn a ne-o hrom gun lovely
togainn,
tog-aynn
Mo nighean dubh gu'n fhiaraidh mo Of thee I would sing, the cause re-
mo ui'-en duv gun i-ar-ay' mo latino"
bhriadhar gu'n togainn,
vii'-ar gun tog-aynn
'S gun innsinn an taobhar nach ealaer Why thou art not wooed, when others
8 gun inn-sinn an ta-o-var nach eler ave mating,
gad thogradh,
gad hog- ra'
Mo chailinn donn og. My auburn-haired maid,
mo chaylin donn og
Gu bheil u gu boidheach baindidh
gu veyl u gu boy'-ech bayn-di'
banuael,
ban-nel
Gun chron ort fo'n ghrein gu'n bheum
gun chron ort fon yreyn gun veym
gu'n sgainnir,
gun sgaynnir
Gur gili u fo'd leine na eiteag na mara,
gur gil' u fo'd leyne na ey-teg na mara
'S tha choir agam fein gu'n cheile bin
's ha choyr agam feyn gun cheyle vi
mar riut,
mar ri-ut
Mo chailinn donn og.
mo chayliu donn og
Thou art pure as the snow on the hill-
crest swelling,
In beauty arrayed, in mind excelliur
But, ah me, thy sire in the shell
delighted,
And thou, my young tocherless daugh-
ter, art slighted.
My auburn-hairi-'d maid.