Fy now, Johnny, get up and rin, Its best to sleep in a hale skin, Hey, Johnny Coup, &c. When Johnny Coup to Dunbar came, For I left them a' i' the morning. "Now, Johnny, trouth ye was na blate, Hey, Johnny Coup, &c. dispatched an 'officer to Edinburgh, with orders for all the surgeons to at tend; which was accordingly done. "In a subsequent paper it was said, that after the most strict enquiry, it appeared that only fourteen hundred and fifty-six of the Highland army were engaged. "The strokes given by the Highlanders with their swords in this action evinced proofs of their strength; not only men's hands and feet were cut off, but even the legs of horses; and what many saw may be affirmed for truth, viz. that a Highland gentleman, who led up a division, after breaking through Murray's regiment, fetching a blow at a grenadier, the poor fellow naturally got up his hand over his head, and not only had his hand lopped off, but also his skull cut above an inch deep, so that he expired on the spot."-See Transactions in Scotland, during the years 1715 and 45, by G. Charles. "Ah! faith," quo' Johnny, "I got a fleg, If I face them again, deil break my legs, CLXXV. YES, DEAREST MAID, I LOVE THEE STILL Yes, dearest maid, I love thee still, Nor would for empires e'er deceive thee; Thro' every change of good and ill, I'll doat upon thy charms, believe me. Where rival hues contend for beauty, Thy lips the cherry's sweets would foil- Yes, gentle maid, thy powerful charms Would quell the wildest wish of ranging. Thy kindly glance, so free of art, And melting kiss, my chains shall rivet ; What fickle fool would think to leave it. Nor would for empires e'er deceive thee, I'll doat upon thy charms, believe me. CLXXVI. HOW EERILY, HOW DREARILY. How eerily, how drearily, how wearily to pine, When my love's in a foreign land, far frae thae arms o' mine, I kiss my bonny baby, I clasp it to my breast, Ah! aft wi' sic a warm embrace its father has me prest! And when I gaze upon its face, as it lies on my knee, The crystal draps out owre my cheeks will fa' frae ilka e'e. O! mony a, mony a burning tear, upon its face will fa', For, oh! its like my bonny love, and he's far awa'. Whan the spring time had gane by, and the rose began to blaw, And the harebell and the violet adorn'd ilk bonny shaw, 'Twas then my love came courting me, and wan my youthfu' heart, And many a tear it cost my love, ere he could frae me part, Ye wastlin' winds, upon the main blaw wi' a steady breeze, CLXXVII. GO, LOVELY ROSE+! Go, lovely rose! Tell her that wastes her time and me That now she knows, When I resemble her to thee, How sweet and fair she seems to be. +Edmund Waller, the author of this excellent piece of poetry, was born at Colshill, in Buckinghamshire, in 1605. He became a Member of Parliament at the early age of eighteen. In 1643, he was sent to the Tower, on a charge of conspiring to deliver the city to the King. Two persons were executed for the plot, and Waller was condemned to be hanged, but saved himself by an ab ject submission, and a liberal distribution of money. After a year's imprisonment he went into exile, but returned by favour of Cromwell, on whom he wrote an elegant panegyric. He wrote another on the death of the Protector, and afterwards celebrated the Restoration, and praised Charles II. He was again elected into Parliament, where, by his eloquence and wit, he was the delight of the House. He endeavoured to procure the Provostship of Eton, but being refused by Clarendon, he joined in the persecution of that great man. He died in 1687. His poetical pieces are easy, smooth, and generally elegant. |