SAINT CLOUD.

[PARIS, 5TH SEPTEMBER, 1815.]

Sort spread the southern summer night
Her veil of darksome blue;

Ten thousand stars combined to light
The terrace of Saint Cloud.

The evening breezes gently sigh'd,
Like breath of lover true,
Bewailing the deserted pride

And wreck of sweet Saint Cloud.

The drum's deep roll was heard afar,
The bugle wildly blew
Good-night to Hulan and Hussar,
That garrison Saint Cloud.

The startled Naiads from the shade
With broken urns withdrew,

And silenced was that proud cascade,
The glory of Saint Cloud.

We sate upon its steps of stone,
Nor could its silence* rue,

When waked, to music of our own,
The echoes of Saint Cloud.

Slow Seine might hear each lovely note
Fall light as summer dew,

While through the moonlesst air they float,
Prolong'd from fair Saint Cloud.
And sure a melody more sweet
His waters never knew,

Though music's self was wont to meet
With Princes at Saint Cloud.
Nor then, with more delighted ear,
The circle round her drew,

Than ours, when gather'd round to hear
Our songstresst at Saint Cloud.
Few happy hours poor mortals pass,-
Then give those hours their due,
And rank among the foremost class
Our evenings at Saint Cloud.

THE DANCE OF DEATH.S

I.

NIGHT and morning were at meeting

Over Waterloo;

Cocks had sung their earliest greeting;
Faint and low they crew,
For no paly beam yet shone

On the heights of Mount Saint John;
Tempest-clouds prolong'd the sway
Of timeless darkness over day;
Whirlwind, thunder-clap, and shower,
Mark'd it a predestin'd hour.

Broad and frequent through the night
Flash'd the sheets of levin-light;
Muskets, glancing lightnings back,
Show'd the dreary bivouack

Where the soldier lay,

Chill and stiff, and drench'd with rain,

Wishing dawn of morn again,

Though death should come with day.

II.

'Tis at such a tide and hour,
Wizard, witch, and fiend, have power,
And ghastly forms through mist and shower
Gleam on the gifted ken;

And then the affrighted prophet's ear
Drinks whispers strange of fate and fear
Presaging death and ruin near

Among the sons of men ;

Apart from Albyn's war-array,
'Twas then gray Allan sleepless lay;
Gray Allan, who, for many a day,
Had follow'd stout and stern,
Where, through battle's rout and reel,
Storm of shot and hedge of steel,
Led the grandson of Lochiel,
Valiant Fassiefern.

Through steel and shot he leads no more,
Low laid 'mid friends' and foemen's gore-
But long his native lake's wild shore,
And Sunart rough, and high Ardgower,

And Morven long shall tell,
And proud Bennevis hear with awe,
How, upon bloody Quatre-Bras,
Brave Cameron heard the wild hurra
Of conquest as he fell.¶

III.

'Lone on the outskirts of the host,
The weary sentinel held post,

And heard, through darkness far aloof,
The frequent clang** of courser's hoof,
Where held the cloak'd patrol their course,
And spurr'd 'gainst storm the swerving horse;
But there are sounds in Allan's ear,
Patrol nor sentinel may hear,
And sights before his eye aghast
Invisible to them have pass'd,

When down the destined plain,

"Twixt Britain and the bands of France,
Wild as marsh-borne meteors glance,
Strange phantoms wheel'd a revel dance,
And doom'd the future slain.-

Such forms were seen, such sounds were heard,
When Scotland's James his march prepared
For Flodden's fatal plain;++
Such, when he drew his ruthless sword,
As Choosers of the Slain, adored
The yet unchristen'd Dane.

An indistinct and phantom band,
They wheel'd their ring-dance hand in hand;
With gestures wild and dread;

The Seer, who watch'd them ride the storm,
Saw through their faint and shadowy form
The lightning's flash more red;
And still their ghastly roundelay
Was of the coming battle-fray,
And of the destined dead.

IV.

SONG.

Wheel the wild dance
While lightnings glance,
And thunders rattle loud,
And call the brave

To bloody grave,

To sleep without a shroud.

[MS." Dawn and darkness."]

T[See note, ante, p. 683.]

** [MS.-" Oft came the clang, &c."]

* [See ante, Marmion, canto v., stanzas 24, 25, 26, and Note. p. 417.]

At morn, gray Allan's mates with awe
Heard of the vision'd sights he saw,
The legend heard him say;
But the Seer's gifted eye was dim,
Deafen'd his ear, and stark his limb,

Ere closed that bloody day

He sleeps far from his Highland heath,-
But often of the Dance of Death

His comrades tell the tale,

On picket-post, when ebbs the night,

(This ballad appeared in 1815, in Paul's Letters, and in the Edinburgh Anual Register. It has since been set to music by G. F. Graham, Esq. in Mr. Thomson's Select Molodies, &c.] * [The original romance,

Partant pour la Syrie,

Le jeune et brave Dunois,' &c.

FROM THE SAME COLLECTION.

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;
Gayly for love and fame to fight

Befits the gallant Troubadour."

And while he march'd with helm on head
And harpin 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 hew'd his way, was written, and set to music also, by Hortense Beauharnois, Duchesse de St. Leu. Ex Queen of Holland.1

The original of this balind also was written and composed by the Duchesse de St. Leu. The translation has been set to music by Mr. Thomson. See his collection of Scottish Songs1826.]

'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 bloody 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."

FROM THE FRENCH.*

Ir chanced that Cupid on a season,
By Fancy urged, resolved to wed,
But could not settle whether Reason
Or Folly should partake his bed.
What does he then ?-Upon my life,
'Twas bad example for a deity-
He takes me Reason for a wife,
And Folly for his hours of gayety.
Though thus he dealt in petty treason,
He loved them both in equal measure;
Fidelity was born of Reason,

And Folly brought to bed of Pleasure.

SONG,

FOR THE ANNIVERSARY MEETING OF THE PITT CLUB OF SCOTLAND.

[1814.]

DREAD was the time, and more dreadful the

omen,

When the brave on Marengo lay slaughter'd in vain,

And beholding broad Europe bow'd down by her foemen,

PITT closed in his anguish the map of her reign! Not the fate of broad Europe could bend his brave spirit

To take for his country the safety of shame; 0, then in her triumph remember his merit, And hallow the goblet that flows to his name.

Round the husbandman's head, while he traces the furrow,

The mists of the winter may mingle with rain, He may plough it with labour, and sow it in sorrow, And sigh while he fears he has sow'd it in vain; He may die ere his children shall reap in their glad

Though anxious and timeless his life was expended,
In toils for our country preserved by his care,
Though he died ere one ray o'er the nations ascended,
To light the long darkness of doubt and despair;
The storms he endured in our Britain's December,
The perils his wisdom foresaw and o'ercame,
In her glory's rich harvest shall Britain remember,
And hallow the goblet that flows to his name.

Nor forget His gray head, who, all dark in affliction,

Is deaf to the tale of our victories won,

(This trifle also is from the French Collection, found at Waterloo--See Paul's Letters.]

[This song appears with music in Mr. G. Thomson's Collection-1826. The foot-ball match on which it was written took

Then up with the Banner, &c.

A Stripling's weak hand to our revel has borne her,

No mail-glove has grasp'd her, no spearman surround:

But ere a bold foeman should scathe or should scorn her,

A thousand true hearts would be cold on the ground.

Then up with the Banner, &c.

We forget each contention of civil dissension,
And hail, like our brethren, HOME, DOUGLAS, and
CAR:

And ELLIOT and PRINGLE in pastime shall mingle,
As welcome in peace as their fathers in war.
Then up with the Banner, &c.

Then strip, lads, and to it, though sharp be the weather,

And if, by mischance, you should happen to fall, There are worse things in life than a tunible on heather,

And life is itself but a game of foot-ball.
Then up with the Banner, &c.

And when it is over, we'll drink a blithe measure To each Laird and each Lady that witness'd our fun,

place on December 5, 1815, and was also celebrated by the Ettrick Shepherd.] [The bearer of the standard was the Author's eldest son.}

Then up with the Banner, &c.

II.

O, fear not the bugle, though loudly it blows,
It calls but the warders that guard thy repose;
Their bows would be bended, their blades would be
red,

Landward,

From the hall of the Peer to the Herd's inglenook;

And huzza! my brave hearts, for BUCCLEUCH and his standard,

For the King and the Country, the Clan and the Duke!

Then up with the Banner, let forest winds fan her,

She has blazed over Ettrick eight ages and more; In sport we'll attend her, in battle defend her, With heart and with hand, like our fathers before.

O, hush thee, my babie, the time soon will come, When thy sleep shall be broken by trumpet and drum;

Then hush thee, my darling, take rest while you

PIBROCH OF DONALD DHU.

AIR-" Piobair of Donuil Dhuidh."+ This is a very ancient pibroch belonging to Clan Mac Donald, and supposed to refer to the expedition of Donald Balloch, who, in 1431, launched from the Isles with a considerable force, invaded Lochaber, and at Inverlochy defeated and put to flight the Earls of Mar and Caithness, though at the head of an army superior to his own. 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 Dhuich, 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 gataering 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, vassal, 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 !

"The pibroch of Donald the Black." This song was writ ten for Campbell's Albyn's Anthology, 1816. It may also be seen, set to music, in Thomson's Collection, 1830.]

[Compare this with the gathering-song in the third canto of the Lady of the Lake, ante.]

MACGREGOR'S GATHERING. AIR-" Thain' a Grigalach."

WRITTEN FOR ALBYN'S ANTHOLOGY, [1816] These verses are adapted to a very wild, yet lively gathering-tune, used by the MacGregors. The Severe treatment of this Clan, their outlawry, and the proscription of their very name, are alluded to in the Ballad.§

THE MOON'S on the lake, and the mist's on the brae,
And the Clan has a name that is nameless by day;
Then gather, gather, gather, Grigalach!
Gather, gather, gather, &c.

Our signal for fight, that from monarchs we drew,
Must be heard but by night in our vengeful halloo !
Then halloo, Grigalach! halloo, Grigalach!
Halloo, halloo, halloo, Grigalach, &c.

Glen Orchy's proud mountains, Coalchuirn and her towers,

Glenstrae and Glenlyon no longer are ours;

We're landless, landless, landless, Grigalach!
Landless, landless, landless, &c.

But doom'd and devoted by vassal and lord,
MacGregor has still both his heart and his sword!

"I will never go with him."

[See also Mr. Thomson' Scottish Collection, 1822.] : "The MacGregor is come."

For the history of the clan, see Introduction to Rob Roy vol.ü.]

Rob Roy MacGregor's own designation was of Innersuaid; but he appears to have acquired a right of some kind or

Then courage, courage, courage, Grigalach! Courage, courage, courage, &c.

If they rob us of name, and pursue us with beagles, Give their roofs to the flame, and their flesh to the eagles!

Then vengeance, vengeance, vengeance, Grigalach!

Vengeance, vengeance, vengeance, &c.

river,

While there's leaves in the forest, and foam on the MacGregor, despite them, shall flourish for ever! Come then, Grigalach, come then, Grigalach, Come then, come then, come then, &c.

Through the depths of Loch Katrine the steed shall career,

O'er the peak of Ben-Lomond the galley shall steer, And the rocks of Craig Royston like icicles melt, Fre our wrongs be forgot, or our vengeance unfelt! Then gather, gather, gather, Grigalach! Gather, gather, gather, &c.

DONALD CAIRD'S COME AGAIN.T AIR-" Malcolm Caird's come again."**

CHORUS.

Donald Caird's come again!
Donald Caird's come again!
Tell the news in brugh and glen.
Donald Caird's come again!
Donald Caird can lilt and sing,
Blithely dance the Hieland fling,
Drink till the gudeman be blind,
Fleech till the gudewife be kind;
Hoop a leglin, clout a pan,

Or crack a pow wi' ony man;
Tell the news in brugh and glen.
Donald Caird's come again.

Donald Caird's come again!
Donald Caird's come again!
Tell the news in brugh and glen,
Donald Caird's come again.
Donald Caird can wire a maukin,
Kens the wiles o' dun-deer staukin,
Leisters kipper, makes a shift
To shoot a muir-fowl in the drift;
Water-bailiffs, rangers, keepers,
He can wauk when they are sleepers;
Not for bountith or reward
Dare ye mell wi' Donald Caird.

Donald Caird's come again!
Donald Caird's come again!
Gar the bagpipes hum amain,
Donald Caird's come again.
Donald Caird can drink a gill
Fast as hostler-wife can fill;
Ilka ane that sells gude liquor
Kens how Donald bends a bicker;
When he's fou he's stout and saucy,
Keeps the cantle of the cawsey;
Highland chief and Lawland laird
Maun gie room to Donald Caird!

Donald Caird's come again!
Donald Caird's come again!
Tell the news in brugh and glen,
Donald Caird's come again.
Steek the amrie, lock the kist,
Else some gear may well be mist;
Donald Caird finds orra things

Where Allan Gregor fand the tings;
Dunts of kebbuck, taits of woo,
Whiles a hen and whiles a sow,

other to the property or possession of Craig Royston, a domain
of rock and forests, lying on the east side of Loch Lomond,
where that beautiful lake stretches into the dusky mountains
of Glenfalloch."--Introduction to Rob Roy, vol. ii.]
Written for Albyn's Anthology, vol. ii., 1818, and set to
music in Mr. Thomson's Collection, in 1922.]
** Caird signifies Tinker.