"I saw the battle, sair and tough,
And reekin' red ran monie a sheugh;

My heart, for fear, gaed sough for sough,
To hear the thuds, and see the cluds,

O' clans frae woods, in tartan duds,

channel

sigh

knocks

clothes

Wha glaumed at kingdoms three, man. grasped

"The red-coat lads, wi' black cockades,

To meet them were na slaw, man;

They rushed and pushed, and bluid outgushed, And monie a bouk did fa', man:

The great Argyle led on his files,

I wat they glanced for twenty miles:

corpse

And skyrin tartan trews, man,
When in the teeth they dared our Whigs,

And covenant true-blues, man;

In lines extended lang and large,
When bayonets opposed the targe,
And thousands hastened to the charge,
Wi' Highland wrath they frae the sheath
Drew blades o' death, till, out o' breath,

They fled like frighted doos, man."

shining

"O how deil, Tam, can that be true? The chase gaed frae the North, man; I saw myself, they did pursue

The horsemen back to Forth, man; And at Dunblane, in my ain sight, They took the brig wi' a' their might, bridge And straught to Stirling winged their flight; But, cursed lot! the gates were shut; And monie a huntit, poor red-coat,

For fear amaist did swarf, man!"

"My sister Kate cam up the gate
Wi' crowdie unto me, man;
She swore she saw some rebels run
Frae Perth unto Dundee, man :
Their left-hand general had nae skill,
The Angus lads had nae good-will
That day their neibors' blood to spill;
For fear, by foes, that they should lose
Their cogs o' brose all crying

woes;

And so it goes, you see, man.

swoon

road porridge

pails of pottage

"They've lost some gallant gentlemen
Amang the Highland clans, man ;
I fear my Lord Panmure is slain,
Or fallen in Whiggish hands, man.
Now wad ye sing this double fight,
Some fell for wrang, and some for right;
But monie bade the world guid-night;

Then ye may tell, how pell and mell,
By red claymores, and muskets' knell,
Wi' dying yell, the Tories fell,

And Whigs to hell did flee, man."

ON a bank of flowers, in a summer-day,
For summer lightly drest,
The youthful, blooming Nelly lay,
With love and sleep opprest;

When Willie, wandering through the wood,
Who for her favour oft had sued,

He gazed, he wished, he feared, he blushed, And trembled where he stood.

Her closed eyes like weapons sheathed,
Were sealed in soft repose;

Her lip, still as she fragrant breathed,
It richer dyed the rose.

The springing lilies sweetly prest,

Wild-wanton, kissed her rival breast;

He gazed, he wished, he feared, he blushed, His bosom ill at rest.

Her robes light waving in the breeze

Her tender limbs embrace;

Her lovely form, her native ease,
All harmony and grace:
Tumultuous tides his pulses roll,

A faltering, ardent kiss he stole ;

He gazed, he wished, he feared, he blushed, And sighed his very soul.

As flies the partridge from the brake

On fear-inspired wings,

So Nelly starting, half awake,

Away affrighted springs:

But Willie followed, as he should;

He overtook her in the wood;
He vowed, he prayed, he found the maid
Forgiving all and good.

MY HEART'S IN THE HIGHLANDS.

TUNE-Faille na Miosg.

In this song Burns caught up the single streak of poetry which existed in a well-known old stall song, entitled The Strong Walls of Derry, and which commences thus:

"The first day I landed, 'twas on Irish ground,

The tidings came to me from fair Derry town,

That my love was married, and to my sad wo, And I lost my first love by courting too slow."

After many stanzas of similar doggerel, the author breaks out, as under an inspiration, with the one fine verse, which Burns afterwards seized as a basis for his own beautiful ditty :

66

'My heart's in the Highlands, my heart is not here;
My heart's in the Highlands a-chasing the deer;
A-chasing the deer, and following the roe-
My heart's in the Highlands wherever I go."

My heart's in the Highlands, my heart is not here;

My heart's in the Highlands a-chasing the deer;

A-chasing the wild deer, and following the

roe

My heart's in the Highlands wherever I go.

Farewell to the Highlands, farewell to the North,

The birthplace of valour, the country of worth; Wherever I wander, wherever I rove,

The hills of the Highlands for ever I love.

Farewell to the mountains high covered with

snow;

Farewell to the straths and green valleys be

low;