Page:Elegy on the year eighty-eight.pdf/13

( 13 ) VERSES

A BAGPIPE.

H! Bagpipe, hail! misca'd by some,

Wha on guittars an' fiddles thrum,

Wha duetts an' cantatas hum,

In foreign twang;

Come! screed me up a dainty bum,

A Highland sang.

The breathing flute, the trembling lyre,

Ha'e aften kindl'd saft desire—

Ha'e set the Bardie's saul on fire

Wi' heavenly notes;

Come! Bagpipe, come! a sang inspire,

O'gude braid Scots.

'Mang snawy hills by mists o'erhung,

Whare Galdus faught, whare Ossian sung,

The pipe has loud an' aften rung:

The Clans afar

Lap at the sound; baith auld an' young

They rush'd to war.

The pipers loud an’ louder blew,

The battle fierce an' fiercer grew,

The Romans ran, Norwegians flew,

The Danes they fell,

An' few o' them gat hame, I trew,

The news to tell.