The Works of The Ettrick Shepherd Centenary Edition. With a Memoir of the Author, by the Rev. Thomas Thomson ... Poems and Life. With Many Illustrative Engravings [by James Hogg] |
The Frazers in the Correi.
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The Works of The Ettrick Shepherd | ||
The Frazers in the Correi.
“Where has your daddy gone, my little May?
Where has our lady been a' the lang day?
Saw you the red-coats rank on the ha' green?
Or heard you the horn on the mountain yestreen?”
“Auld carle graybeard, ye speer na at me,
Gae speer at the maiden that sits by the sea;
The red-coats were here, and it wasna for good,
For the raven's grown hoarse wi' the waughtin' o' blood.
Where has our lady been a' the lang day?
Saw you the red-coats rank on the ha' green?
Or heard you the horn on the mountain yestreen?”
“Auld carle graybeard, ye speer na at me,
Gae speer at the maiden that sits by the sea;
The red-coats were here, and it wasna for good,
For the raven's grown hoarse wi' the waughtin' o' blood.
“Oh listen, auld carle, how roopit his note!
The blood o' the Frazers too hot for his throat;
I trow the black traitors of Sassenach breed,
They prey on the living and he on the dead.
When I was a baby, we call'd him in joke,
The harper of Errick, the priest of the rock;
But now he's our mountain companion no more,
The slave of the Saxon, the quaffer of gore.”
The blood o' the Frazers too hot for his throat;
I trow the black traitors of Sassenach breed,
They prey on the living and he on the dead.
When I was a baby, we call'd him in joke,
The harper of Errick, the priest of the rock;
But now he's our mountain companion no more,
The slave of the Saxon, the quaffer of gore.”
“Sweet little maiden, why talk you of death?
The raven's our friend, and he's croaking in wrath;
He will not pick eye from a bonneted head,
Nor mar the loved form by the tartans that's clad.
But point me the cliff where the Frazer abides,
Where Foyers, Culduthel, and Gorthaleg hides;
There's danger at hand, I must speak with them soon,
And seek them alone by the light of the moon.”
The raven's our friend, and he's croaking in wrath;
He will not pick eye from a bonneted head,
Nor mar the loved form by the tartans that's clad.
But point me the cliff where the Frazer abides,
Where Foyers, Culduthel, and Gorthaleg hides;
There's danger at hand, I must speak with them soon,
And seek them alone by the light of the moon.”
“Auld carle graybeard, a friend you should be,
For the truth's on your lip and the tear in your e'e;
Then seek in yon correi, that sounds from the brae,
An' sings to the rock when the breeze is away.
I sought them last night with the haunch of the deer,
And deep in their cave they were hiding in fear;
There, at the last crow of the brown heather-cock,
They pray'd for their prince, kneel'd, and slept on the rock.
For the truth's on your lip and the tear in your e'e;
Then seek in yon correi, that sounds from the brae,
An' sings to the rock when the breeze is away.
I sought them last night with the haunch of the deer,
And deep in their cave they were hiding in fear;
There, at the last crow of the brown heather-cock,
They pray'd for their prince, kneel'd, and slept on the rock.
“Oh, tell me, auld carle, what will be the fate
Of those who are killing the gallant and great;
Who force our brave chiefs to the correi to go,
And hunt their own prince like the deer or the roe?
I know it, auld carle, as sure as yon sun
Shines over our heads, that the deeds they have done
To those who are braver and better than they,
There's one in this world or the next will repay.”
Of those who are killing the gallant and great;
Who force our brave chiefs to the correi to go,
And hunt their own prince like the deer or the roe?
I know it, auld carle, as sure as yon sun
Shines over our heads, that the deeds they have done
To those who are braver and better than they,
There's one in this world or the next will repay.”
The Works of The Ettrick Shepherd | ||