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THE RETURN TO ULSTER.

ONCE again,—but how changed since my wand'rings began

I have heard the deep voice of the Lagan and Bann,

And the pines of Clanbrassil resound to the roar

That wearies the echoes of fair Tullamore.

Alas! my poor bosom, and why

shouldst thou burn?

With the scenes of my youth can its raptures return?

Can I live the dear life of delusion again,

That flow'd when these echoes first mix'd with my strain?

It was then that around me, though poor and unknown, High spells of mysterious enchantment were thrown;

The streams were of silver, of diamond the dew,

The land was an Eden, for fancy was

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Young Frank is chief of Errington,
And lord of Langley-dale;
His step is first in peaceful ha',

His sword in battle keen "-
But aye she loot the tears down fa'
For Jock of Hazeldean.

III.

"A chain of gold ye sall not lack, Nor braid to bind your hair; Nor mettled hound, nor managed hawk,

Nor palfrey fresh and fair; And you, the foremost o' them a', Shall ride our forest queen"But aye she loot the tears down fa' For Jock of Hazeldean.

IV.

The kirk was deck'd at morning-tide,
The tapers glimmer'd fair;
The priest and bridegroom wait the
bride,

And dame and knight are there. They sought her baith by bower and ha';

The ladie was not seen!
She's o'er the Border, and awa'
Wi' Jock of Hazeldean.

PIBROCH OF DONALD DHU.*

AIR-" Piobair of Donuil Dhuidh." This is a very ancient pibroch belonging to Clan Macdonald, and supposed to refer to the expedition of Donald Balloch, who, in 1431. hunched 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 Dhuidh, 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
gathering place at Inverlochy.

* Dhu-the Black.

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 Inverlocky.
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 rendel,

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!

NORA'S VOW.

AIR-Cha teid mis a chaoidh.† WRITTEN FOR ALBYN'S ANTHOLOGY.

In the original Gaelic, the Lady makes protestations that she will not go with the Red Earl's son, until the swan should build in the cliff, and the eagle in the lake-until one mountain should change place with another, and so forth. It is but fair to add,

"I will never go with him."

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Gregors. 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 haloo!

Then haloo, Grigalach! haloo, Grigalach!

Haloo, haloo, haloo, 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!

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.

While there's leaves in the forest, and foam on the river, 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,

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