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,
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:
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,
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.

With thunders from her native oak,

She quells the floods below,

As they roar on the shore,

When the stormy winds do blow;

When the battle rages loud and long,

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.

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,
And the storm has ceased to blow.

T. Campbell.

CCLXI.

WHA'LL BE KING BUT CHARLIE?

THE news frae Moidart cam' yestreen

Will soon gar mony ferlie;

For ships o' war hae just come in

And landit Royal Charlie.

Come through the heather, around him gather, Ye're a' th' welcomer early;

Around him cling wi' a' your kin,

For wha'll be King but Charlie?

Come through the heather, around him gather, Come Ronald, come Donald, com a' thegither, And crown your rightfu' lawfu' King,

For wha'll be King but Charlie?

The Hieland clans, wi' sword in hand,
Frae John o' Groats to Airlie,
Hae to a man declared to stand,
Or fa' wi' Royal Charlie.

Come through the heather, etc.
The Lowlands a', baith great and sma',
Wi' many a lord and laird, hae
Declared for Scotia's King and law,

And spier ye wha but Charlie ?

Come through the heather, etc.

There's nae a lass in a' the lan'

But vows faith late an' early,
She'll ne'er to man gie heart nor han',

Wha wadna fecht for Charlie.

Come through the heather, etc.

Then here's a health to Charlie's cause,
And be't complete an' early,

His very name our hearts' blood warms,
To arms for Royal Charlie !

Come through the heather, etc.

Lady Nairn.

CCLXII.

A BOY'S SONG.

WHERE the pools are bright and deep

Where the grey trout lies asleep,

Up the river and o'er the lea,

That's the way for Billy and me.

Where the blackbird sings the latest,

Where the hawthorn blooms the sweetest,

Where the nestlings chirp and flee,

That's the way for Billy and me.

Where the mowers mow the cleanest,
Where the hay lies thick and greenest ;
There to trace the homeward bee,
That's the way for Billy and me.

Where the hazel bank is steepest,
Where the shadow falls the deepest,
Where the clustering nuts fall free,
That's the way for Billy and me.

Why the boys should drive away
Little maidens from their play,
Or love to banter and fight so well,
That's the thing I never could tell.

But this I know, I love to play,
Through the meadows, among the hay:

Shall be a

"Ez a webomer ently;

SONG FR

HAD I a heart

I ne'er coul

For though y
Your charm

To you no so
No strange
But friends in

And lovers

For when th

Another v They'll bid

Fur wide King but Charlie?

Come rage the heather, around him gather,
Cine amet, come Domais, com a' thegither,

200 g lawn King,
Fun wabe King but Charlie?
The Hands w sword in hand,

Fame Tate & Cirants to Airlie,

& mat decreed to stand,

aw. Juma' Charlie

E

Jet the heather, etc.

The bath great and sma',

Wayne and land, he
Decature on Scica's King and law,

Sine serye wha but Charlie?

Come through the heather, etc.

And act a

the heather, etc

e's a health to Charlie's cause, 't complete an' early,

name our hearts' blood warms, as for Royal Charlie!

e through the heather, etc.

Lady Nairn.

CCLXII.

A BOY'S SONG.

the pools are bright and deep
he grey trout lies asleep,
river and o'er the lea,

he way for Billy and me.

the blackbird sings the latest,

the hawthorn blooms the sweetest,

the nestlings chirp and flee,

the way for Billy and me.

the mowers mow the cleanest,
the hay lies thick and greenest ;

to trace the homeward bee,
the way for Billy and me.

e the hazel bank is steepest,

e the shadow falls the deepest,
e the clustering nuts fall free,
s the way for Billy and me.

the boys should drive away
e maidens from their play,
ove to banter and fight so well,
's the thing I never could tell.

this I know, I love to play,
ough the meadows, among the hay: