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25 Louder, louder chant the lay,
Waken, lords and ladies gay!

Tell them youth, and mirth, and glee,
Run a course as well as we;

Time, stern huntsman! who can baulk, 30 Stanch as hound, and fleet as hawk; Think of this, and rise with day, Gentle lords and ladies gay.

JOCK OF HAZELDEAN

(1816)

I.

"Why weep ye by the tide, ladie?
Why weep ye by the tide?
I'll wed ye to my youngest son,
And ye sall be his bride:

5 And ye sall be his bride, ladie,
Sae comely to be seen "-

10

But aye she loot the tears down fa'
For Jock of Hazeldean.

II.

"Now let this wilfu' grief be done,
And dry that cheek so pale;
Young Frank is chief of Errington
And lord of Langley-dale;

His step is first in peaceful ha',
His sword in battle keen "-
15 But aye she loot the tears down fa'
For Jock of Hazeldean.

20

III.

"A chain of gold ye sall not lack,
Nor braid to bind your hair;

Nor mettled hound, nor managed hawk,
Nor palfrey fresh and fair;

And you, the foremost of them a',
Shall ride our forest-queen
But aye she loot the tears down fa'
For Jock of Hazeldean.

25

30

IV.

The kirk was deck'd at morning-tide,
The tapers glimmered fair;

The priest and bridegroom wait the bride,
And dame and knight are there:

They sought her baith by bower and ha';
The ladie was not seen!

She's o'er the border and awa'

Wi' Jock of Hazeldean.

MADGE WILDFIRE'S SONG

(From The Heart of Midlothian, 1818)

"Proud Maisie is in the wood,
Walking so early;

Sweet Robin sits on the bush,
Singing so rarely.

5 "Tell me, thou bonny bird,
When shall I marry me?'
'When six braw gentlemen
Kirkward shall carry ye.'

10

"Who makes the bridal bed,
Birdie, say truly?'—

'The grey-headed sexton,

That delves the grave duly.

The glow-worm o'er grave and stone
Shall light thee steady;

15 The owl from the steeple sing,

'Welcome, proud lady.""

BORDER BALLAD

(From The Monastery, 1820)

I.

March, march, Ettrick and Teviotdale,

Why the deil dinna ye march forward in order? March, march, Eskdale and Liddesdale,

All the Blue Bonnets are bound for the Border.

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Flutters above your head,

Many a crest that is famous in story;

Mount and make ready then,

Sons of the mountain glen,

10 Fight for the Queen and the old Scottish glory!

15

II.

Come from the hills where the hirsels are graz

ing,

Come from the glen of the buck and the roe; Come to the crag where the beacon is blazing, Come with the buckler, the lance, and the bow. Trumpets are sounding,

War-steeds are bounding,

Stand to your arms then, and march in good order:

England shall many a day

Tell of the bloody fray,

20 When the Blue Bonnets came over the Border!

COUNTY GUY

(From Quentin Durward, 1823)

"Ah! County Guy, the hour is nigh,
The sun has left the lea,

The orange-flower perfumes the bower,
The breeze is on the sea.

5 The lark, his lay who thrill'd all day,
Sits hush'd his partner nigh;

10

Breeze, bird, and flower, confess the hour,
But where is County Guy?

"The village maid steals through the shade, Her shepherd's suit to hear;

To beauty shy, by lattice high,

Sings high-born Cavalier.

The star of Love, all stars above,
Now reigns o'er earth and sky;

15 And high and low the influence know—
But where is County Guy?"

Thomas Campbell

1777-1844

YE MARINERS OF ENGLAND

(1800)

Ye mariners of England

That guard our native seas,

Whose flag has braved a thousand years
The battle and the breeze!

5 Your glorious standard launch again
To match another foe,

And sweep through the deep,

While the stormy winds do blow; While the battle rages loud and long, 10 And the stormy winds do blow.

The spirits of your fathers

Shall start from every wave!

For the deck it was their field of fame,
And Ocean was their grave:

15 Where Blake and mighty Nelson fell
Your manly hearts shall glow,
As ye sweep through the deep,
While the stormy winds do blow;
While the battle rages loud and long,
20 And the stormy winds do blow.

Britannia needs no bulwark,
No towers along the steep;

Her march is o'er the mountain waves,
Her home is on the deep.

25 With thunders from her native oak
She quells the floods below-

As they roar on the shore,

Where the stormy winds do blow; When the battle rages loud and long, 30 And the stormy winds do blow.

The meteor flag of England
Shall yet terrific burn,

Till danger's troubled night depart
And the star of peace return.

35 Then, then, ye ocean warriors!
Our song and feast shall flow
To the fame of your name,

When the storm has ceased to blow; When the fiery fight is heard no more, 40 And the storm has ceased to blow.

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