Burst, ye clouds, in tempest showers, Redder rain shall soon be ours - See the east grows wan - Yield we place to sterner game, Ere deadlier bolts and direr flame Shall the welkin"s thunders shame, Elemental rage is tame To the wrath of man.

VIII.

At morn, grey Allan"s mates with awe Heard of the visioned sights he saw, The legend heard him say; But the Seer"s gifted eye was dim, Deafened his ear, and stark his limb, Ere closed that b.l.o.o.d.y day.

He sleeps far from his Highland heath, But often of the Dance of Death His comrades tell the tale On picquet-post, when ebbs the night, And waning watch-fires glow less bright, And dawn is glimmering pale.

ROMANCE OF DUNOIS. FROM THE FRENCH. [1815.]



[The original of this little Romance makes part of a ma.n.u.script collection of French Songs, probably compiled by some young officer, which was found on the field of Waterloo, so much stained with clay and with blood as sufficiently to indicate what had been the fate of its late owner. The song is popular in France, and is rather a good specimen of the style of composition to which it belongs. The translation is strictly literal.]

It was Dunois, the young and brave, was bound for Palestine, But first he made his orisons before Saint Mary"s shrine: "And grant, immortal Queen of Heaven," was still the Soldier"s prayer; That I may prove the bravest knight, and love the fairest fair."

His oath of honour on the shrine he graved it with his sword, And followed to the Holy Land the banner of his Lord; Where, faithful to his n.o.ble vow, his war-cry filled the air, "Be honoured aye the bravest knight, beloved the fairest fair."

They owed the conquest to his arm, and then his Liege-Lord said, "The heart that has for honour beat by bliss must be repaid. - My daughter Isabel and thou shall be a wedded pair, For thou art bravest of the brave, she fairest of the fair."

And then they bound the holy knot before Saint Mary"s shrine, That makes a paradise on earth, if hearts and hands combine; And every lord and lady bright that were in chapel there Cried, "Honoured be the bravest knight, beloved the fairest fair!"

THE TROUBADOUR. FROM THE SAME COLLECTION. [1815.]

Glowing with love, on fire for fame A Troubadour that hated sorrow Beneath his lady"s window came, And thus he sung his last good-morrow: "My arm it is my country"s right, My heart is in my true-love"s bower; Gaily for love and fame to fight Befits the gallant Troubadour."

And while he marched with helm on head And harp in hand, the descant rung, As faithful to his favourite maid, The minstrel-burden still he sung: "My arm it is my country"s right, My heart is in my lady"s bower; Resolved for love and fame to fight I come, a gallant Troubadour."

Even when the battle-roar was deep, With dauntless heart he hewed his way, "Mid splintering lance and falchion-sweep, And still was heard his warrior-lay: "My life it is my country"s right, My heart is in my lady"s bower; For love to die, for fame to fight, Becomes the valiant Troubadour."

Alas! upon the b.l.o.o.d.y field He fell beneath the foeman"s glaive, But still reclining on his shield, Expiring sung the exulting stave:- "My life it is my country"s right, My heart is in my lady"s bower; For love and fame to fall in fight Becomes the valiant Troubadour."

PIBROCH OF DONALD DHU.

[This is a very ancient pibroch belonging to Clan MacDonald. The words of the set, theme, or melody, to which the pipe variations are applied, run thus in Gaelic:-

Piobaireachd Dhonuil Dhuidh, piobaireachd Dhonuil; Piobaireachd Dhonuil Dhuidh, piobaireachd Dhonuil; Piobaireachd Dhonuil Dhuidh, piobaireachd Dhonuil; Piob agus bratach air faiche Inverlochi.

The pipe-summons of Donald the Black, The pipe-summons of Donald the Black, The war-pipe and the pennon are on the gathering-place at Inverlochy.]

Pibroch of Donuil Dhu, Pibroch of Donuil, Wake thy wild voice anew, Summon Clan Conuil.

Come away, come away, Hark to the summons!

Come in your war array, Gentles and commons.

Come from deep glen, and From mountain so rocky, The war-pipe and pennon Are at Inverlochy.

Come every hill-plaid, and True heart that wears one, Come every steel blade, and Strong hand that bears one.

Leave untended the herd, The flock without shelter; Leave the corpse uninterr"d, The bride at the altar; Leave the deer, leave the steer, Leave nets and barges: Come with your fighting gear, Broadswords and targes.

Come as the winds come, when Forests are rended; Come as the waves come, when Navies are stranded: Faster come, faster come, Faster and faster, Chief, va.s.sal, page and groom, Tenant and master.

Fast they come, fast they come; See how they gather!

Wide waves the eagle plume, Blended with heather.

Cast your plaids, draw your blades, Forward each man set!

Pibroch of Donuil Dhu, Knell for the onset!

Footnotes:

{1} This eText comes from a book (Pike Country Ballads etc.) which contains a number of poems by John Hay. These have been released separately by Project Gutenberg under the t.i.tle "Pike Country Ballads and Other Poems" by John Hay. They are not included here to avoid duplication.

{2} The literal translation of Fuentes d"Honoro.

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