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THE BRAES OF BALQUHITHER.
" The Three Carls o' Buchanan.”
Let us go, lassie, go
To the braes o' Balquhither, Where the blae-berries grow
'Mang the bonny Highland heather ; Where the deer and the rae,
Lightly bounding together, Sport the lang summer day
On the braes o' Balquhither.
I will twine thee a bow'r,
By the clear siller fountain, And I'll cover it o'er
Wi' the flow'rs o' the mountain ; I will range thro' the wilds,
And the deep glens sae dreary, And return wi' their spoils
To the bow'r o' my deary.
When the rude wintry win'
Idly raves round our dwelling,
On the night-breeze is swelling,
As the storm rattles o'er us,
Wi' the light lilting chorus.
Now the summer is in prime,
Wi' the flow'rs richly blooming,
A' the moorlands perfuming;
Let us journey together,
'Mang the braes o' Balquhither.
IIAVE YE SAIL'D ON THE BREAST OF THE
Have you sail'd on thje breast of the deep,
When the winds had all silenc'd their breath,
Composed on sailing past Cape Trafalgar in the night.
And the waters were hush'd in as holy a sleep,
And as calm as the slumber of death;
Shone tranquilly bright on the wave,
Till she found in the ocean a grave.
'Twould impart a delight to thy soul,
As I felt it imparted to mine, And the draught of affliction that blacken'd my bow!
Grew bright as the silvery brine;
And listen'd in silence to catch
That were told by the men of the watch.
Strange visions my fancy had fill'd,
I was wet with the dews of the night; And I thought that the moon still continued to gild
The wave with a silvery light. I sunk by degrees into sleep,
I thought of my friends who were far,
As bright as the evening star:
Emerald green was her hair,
Braided with gems of the sells
And I knew that she beckon'd on me;
How ineffably bright was their blaze !
Yet still I continued to gaze :
'Mid the waves of the ocean I fell,
The dolphins were sporting around, And many a triton was tuning the shell,
And extatic and wild was the sound; There were thousands of fathoms above,
And thousands of fathoms below,'s
And the topaz and emerald glow;
And well might their lustre be bright,
For they shone on the limbs of the brave, Of those who had fought in the terrible fight,
And were buried at last in the wave;
On white beds of pearl around,
And the sea-lion guarded the ground;
While the dirge of the heroes by spirits was rung, And solemn and wild were the strains that they sung.
Sweet is the slumber the mariners sleep, .
That ne'er shall wake them more :
And loud was the cannon's roar;
But the loud wind past,
And it carried their dying sigh:
In coral caves they lie,
In coral caves they lie.