University of Virginia Library

LADY MARGARET.

Wild Boreas, wi' an eerie crune,
Is drivin' ower the hills o' Seidlie;
Loud the thunder roars abune,
And rends the air wi' awsome medlie.
The lichtnin' loups in ilka glen,
The drenchin' clouds are black and drearie,
The burn is brawlin' through the den,
The far-aff sea moans hoarse and eerie.
The lady sits in her lane ha',
List'nin' the winds, and deeply sighin';
A bairnie—bonnie lauchin' thing—
Upon the lady's knee is lyin'.
“O but this is a weary nicht
For us, my babe, to be alane!
Ohon! whar may thy daddie be?
Whar may the strife o' war hae gane?
“Twas but yestreen I dream'd a dream—
An awsome dream—nae guid forbodin';
Tartans, dyed wi' purple stream,
Lay thickly strew'd upon Culloden.”

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And aye the lady, musing, sits,
And aye the tears come in her eye;
When, though the ravings o' the storm,
She, startled, hears a feeble cry.
“If this be house o' friend or foe,
If there be ony ane within,
O think upon this awfu' nicht,
And ope' the door and let me in.
“O whether ye be friend or foe,
Ye'll let the past forgotten be;
I only ask a shelterin' bield,
Whar I may close my weary e'e.”
“Now, wha be ye at my ha' door,
When Boreas blaws sae loud and surly?
The Garberlunzie, auld and puir?
Or some auld doited singin' carlie?”
“O let me in! O let me in!
O let me in, thou kind, kind ladie!
Ah, think ye o' the sleetie rain!
And think ye o' my bluidie plaidie!
“O were I at my ain ha' door,
And were I near my ain dear ladie!
I wadna mind how winds should roar,
Nor wad I mind my bluidie plaidie.”

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“O wha be ye at my ha' door?
And what can mak' ye mourn sae sairly?
Do you ken aucht o' my guidman?
Or ken ye aucht aboot Prince Charlie?”
Nae answer did the mourner gi'e!
The ladie, list'ning, heard him musin';
Now faint and low, now loud and hie,
In raving words o' dark confusion.
And, vow, the ladie's heart was sair,
To hear a voice sae sad and waesome;
While faint and fainter grew his moan,
Till it faintly left his weary bosom.
Now Lady Margaret has come down,
But ah, the broken-hearted ladie!
It was nae Gaberlunzie man,
Lay, streekit in a bluidie plaide.
“And is it then my ain guidman!
And is it then my bairnie's daddie!
Ah no! ah no! it canna be!”
Then sank she on his lifeless bodie.