The gray-hair'd men were a' i' the streets, And auld dames crying sad to see, The flower o' the lads o' Inverness She tore her haffet links o' gowd, At Preston sleep my brethren three ! He trysted me o' love yestreen, O' love tokens he gave me three; My food shall be the wild berrie, weep, 0 weep, ye Scottish dames! Weep till ye blind a mither's e'e; Nae reeking ha' in fifty miles, But naked corses, sad to see! O, spring is blithesome to the year; Trees sprout, flowers spring, and birds sing hie; But, O what spring can raise them up, The hand o' God hung heavy here, But there's a day, quo' my God, in prayer, And wauken in bliss the gude man's e'e. The battle of Culloden-moor extinguished for ever the hopes of the house of Stuart; and our Jacobite songs were ever after sobered down into a sorrowful and desponding strain. The blood shed at the battle, and the desolation which the unbridled soldiery spread over so much of Scotland, made an impression on the hearts of the people which was long in effacing. In the ruin of so many families, and the destruction of so many houses, the Cameronians beheld the fulfilment of their great apostle's prophecy the song, therefore, sings no fabulous woes. It was first published in the Remains of Nithsdale and Galloway song. JOHNIE COPE. Cope sent a challenge frae Dunbar- If you'll meet me in the morning. By ten to-morrow morning. When Charlie looked the letter on, To meet Johnie Cope in the morning. We'll make ye mirth i' the morning. Atween the gray day and the sun O yon's the warpipes' deadlie strum, VOL. III. Now, Johnie Cope, be as good's your word, And takna wing like a frighten'd bird That's chased frae its nest in the morning. Moist wi' his fear and spurring fast, Johnie Cope is an universal favourite in Scotland; and no song in existence has so many curious variations. Yet it must be confessed that the charm lies more with the music than the poetry. The present copy is made out of various versions; and some liberties have been taken in rendering it more pointed and consistent. Prince Charles displayed great presence of mind and great personal bravery in the battle of Prestonpans, which the impetuous charge of the clans rendered very short and decisive. KIRN-MILK GEORDIE. It's James and George, they war twa lords, And aye he suppit, and aye he swat, And aye he fykit, and aye he grat, When Donald the piper ca'd round the kirn— And up wi' Geordie, kirn-milk Geordie, He is the king-thief o' them a'; He steal'd the key, and hautet the kirn, He kicked the butler, hanged the groom, |