Page:The Book of Scottish Song.djvu/349

Rh His bonnet blue is fallen now;

And bluidy is the plaid

That aften, on the mountain's brow,

Has wrapt his Highland Maid.

My father's sheeling on the hill

Is dowie now and sad;

The breezes whisper round me still,

I've lost my Highland Lad.

Upon Culloden's fatal heath

He spake o' me, they said,

And faultered, wi' his dying breath,

"Adieu, my Highland Maid!"

The weary nicht for rest I seek;

The langsome day I mourn;

The smile upon my withered cheek

Can never mair return:

But soon beneath the sod I'll lie

In yonder lonely glade;

Then, haply, some may weep an' sigh—

"Adieu, sweet Highland Maid!"

, Soldier! the gladdening sun

Springs over Albyn's mountains dun,

Purples each peak, and bravely now

Rests his flaming targe on the Grampians' brow,

Smiles o'er the land of the rock and tarn,

Of thine infant's couch, of thy father's cairn—

The land of the race of dauntless mood,

Who grasp thy hand in brotherhood.—

Cheerly, Soldier!

Cheerly, Soldier! gladsome meeting,

The warm salute, the victor's greeting,

Await thee. Now in blazing hall,

Go thread the maze of the flowery ball;

Encircled fond by a kindred throng,

Tell of glories past—pour the heart-warm song;

Or on yon blue hills the roe pursue

With the sweep of the jovial view-halloo.—

Cheerly, Soldier!

Cheerly, Soldier! she who loves thee

Blythe welcome sings 'neath the trysting tree:

On the breeze of morn the heath-cock dancing,

On the gleaming lake the white swan glancing,

The merry fawn in wanton play,

Chasing his twin down the sunny brae,—

Each thing of life with wilding glee,

Shadows the bliss that waits for thee.—

Cheerly, Soldier!

[ original old words of "Comin' thro' the rye," or "Gin a body meet a body," cannot be satisfactorily traced. There are many different versions of the song. Some sets embrace such verses as the following:

The following is the version which is given in Johnson's Museum, and which passed through the hands of Burns. The air forms, with slight variation, the third and fourth strains of strathspey called "The Miller's Daughter," in Gow's first Collection.]

through the rye, poor body,

Coming through the rye,

She draiglet a' her petticoatie,

Coming through the rye.

Oh Jenny's a' wat, poor body,

Jenny's seldom dry;

She draiglet a' her petticoatie,

Coming through the rye.

Gin a body meet a body—

Coming through the rye,

Gin a body kiss a body—

Need a body cry?

Gin a body meet a body

Coming through the glen,

Gin a body kiss a body—

Need the warld ken?