FOGARRACH EIR INN. Gu cladach a' chuain thainig fuadanach Eirinn, Ach air reula na maidne ghrad bheachdaich a shùilean, A' seinn gu h-ait, eutrom, dàin Eirinn gu bràch! O!'s truagh tha mo chor, ars' an coigreach 's e cràiteach, Gheibh féidh 's madaidh-allt' àite fasgach gu tàmh ; With each note the spirits of feeling ascended, "I once had a lover," thus ran the sweet numbers, Ah! my soul canst thou think he shall ever return? "As a lamb he was meek, as a dove he was tender, "This Harp on whose strings oft he roused each emotion, He left me-the pledge of his heart's true devotion, "But cease, ye vain dreams! for at morn still I lose him; 66 Now fallen the oppressors that sought to destroy me, But I have no refuge from famine and danger, Where my forefathers lived, shall I spend the sweet hours, And strike to the numbers of Erin go bragh. O Erin my country! though sad and forsaken, And sigh for the friends who can meet me no more! In a mansion of peace, where no perils can chace me? They died to defend me, or lived to deplore! Where is my cabin door, fast by the wild wood? Yet all its sad recollections suppressing, One dying wish my fond bosom can draw ; BRUCE'S ADDRESS.* Scots, wha hae wi' Wallace bled. Or to victory! * In the year 1314 Edward II. invaded Scotland with an army of 100,000 men. King Robert Bruce met him at Bannockburn, near Stirling, with only 40,000 Scots. The above Address is Ach dhomhs' cha'n 'eil tearmunn o ghort a's o ghabhadh, Gu brach ann an taice nam badan gorm, blåtha, Far 'n do thuinnich mo shinnsear cha chaith mi mo làithean, Eirinn, mo dhùthaich! ged 's tùrsach fo thàr mi, C'a' bheil mo bhothan, am fochar nan coilltean? Ghuil m'athair 's mo phiuthar 'n uair thuit e gu làr C'à' bheil mo mhàthair a dh'àraich mi'm naoidhean? ; A's c'à' bheil mo cheud-ghràdh a's m' fheudail thar chàich? O! m'anam brònach, rinn sòlas do dhìobairt, Com' an d' chuir thu ùigh ann an dùil tha neo-bhrì'or? Cha phill mùirn a's mais' air an ais leo, o'n bhàs. Ged tha cui'neachadh m'abhaist an tràs 'toirt mo chlì uam, Fhearainn mo shinnsearaibh, Slàn leat gu bràch! 'Nuair bhios anns an uaigh mo chrì' fuar 'se gun ghluasad, O! innis na mara biodh do mhachraichean uaine; 'S do bhàird le guth àrd 'seinn le'n clàrsaichean fuaimneach, 66 • Eirinn, mo mhùirnein! Eirinn gu bràch! BROSNACHADH BHRUCE. 'Threun''s tric le Wallace 'dh' fhuiling creuchd ! No buaidh gu treun 's an strìth! supposed to have been spoken by Bruce to his army on the approach of the enemy. The English were defeated, an immense slaughter followed, and Scotland was delivered from her invaders. Now's the day, and now's the hour, See approach proud Edward's power, Wha will be a traitor-knave? Let him turn and flee! Wha, for Scotland's king and law, By oppression's woes and pains, Lay the proud usurper low! Liberty in every blow! Let us do, or die! LINES On the Death of Mrs William M'Kinnon Fort-Augustus.* She is gone, she is gone, to the mansions of rest, And the storm now is hushed in a calm; She has tuned her sweet harp with the choirs of the blest, Yes! the wild winds are still, and the tempest is hushed, And the voyager is safe on the shore; And the tears now are dry that had formerly gushed; She lived as a pilgrim,-she died in the faith, And no more shall she mourn o'er a body of death, * We have seen verses very like the foregoing in an old volume of Poems; we are not, therefore, altogether satisfied, that the So latha 'chruais -an uair tha là'ir! Feuch feachd fo'n cruaidh air cluan an ǎir! A dheanamh thràillean dhibh! Cò thig do'n strìth neo-dhìleas, claon? Air cùl nan claon-fhear clìth? Cò 'n càs a rìgh, a riogh'chd, 's a reachd, Air truaighe 's teinn, ar n-ainneirt chruaidh, Biodh uaibhrich sleuchdt' fo'r beuma bàis; 'Ar n-aghaidh-buaidh no bàs san strìth! RANNAN Air Bas Bean Uilleam Mhic Ionmhuinn an Cille-Chuimein. O! dh'fhalbh i air imrich do chomhnuidh na fois, Thainig fosadh air doinionn nan sian; 'S gu'n d' ghleus is' a clàrsach ri naomh-cheol nam flath, 'Sheinn cliù do'n Ard-thriath a's do'n Uan. Seadh, shiochaidh an stoirm, agus thùirling am fiath, Gu'n do thiormaich na deoir a bha roimhe so 'sruth, B' eilthire a beatha; sa' chreidimh bha 'bàs, Cha ghearain i tuille a h-aigne 'bhi fuar, English of these lines, were originally composed on the death of |