THE BONNETS OF BONNY DUNDEE.

1689.

To the Lords of Convention 't was Claver'se who

spoke,

"Ere the King's crown shall fall there are crowns

to be broke;

So let each Cavalier who loves honor and me
Come follow the bonnet of Bonny Dundee !"

Come fill up my cup, come fill up my can;
Come saddle your horses, and call up your men;
Come open the West Port and let me gang free,
And it's room for the bonnets of Bonny Dundee!

Dundee he is mounted, he rides up the street, The bells are rung backward, the drums they are beat;

But the Provost, douce man, said, "Just e'en let

him be,

The gude toun is weel quit of that deil of Dundee !"

Come fill up my cup, &c.

As he rode down the sanctified bends of the

Bow,

Ilk carline was flyting and shaking her pow;

But the young plants of grace they looked couthie

and slee,

Thinking, "Luck to thy bonnet, thou Bonny

Dundee."

Come fill up my cup, &c.

With sour-featured Whigs the Grass-market was crammed,

As if half the West had set tryst to be hanged; There was spite in each look, there was fear in each e'e,

As they watched for the bonnets of Bonny Dundee.

Come fill up my cup, &c.

These cowls of Kilmarnock had spits and had

spears,

And lang-hafted gullies to kill Cavaliers ;

But they shrunk to close-heads, and the causeway

was free

At the toss of the bonnet of Bonny Dundee.

Come fill up my cup, &c.

He spurred to the foot of the proud Castle rock, And with the gay Gordon he gallantly spoke : "Let Mons Meg and her marrows speak twa words or three,

For the love of the bonnet of Bonny Dundee."

Come fill up my cup, &c.

The Gordon demands of him which way he

goes,

"Where'er shall direct me the shade of Montrose ! in short time shall hear tidings of

Your grace

me,

Or that low lies the bonnet of Bonny Dundee."

Come fill up my cup, &c.

"There

are hills beyond Pentland and lands beyond Forth;

If there's lords in the Lowlands, there's chiefs in

the North;

There are wild Duniewassals three thousand times

three

Will cry Hoigh! for the bonnet of Bonny Dundee."

Come fill up my cup, &c.

"There's brass on the target of darkened bull-hide, There's steel in the scabbard that dangles beside; The brass shall be burnished, the steel shall flash free,

At a toss of the bonnet of Bonny Dundee."

Come fill up my cup, &c.

'Away to the hills, to the caves, to the rocks;
Ere I own a usurper, I'll couch with the fox;
And tremble, false Whigs, in the midst of your glee,
You have not seen the last of my bonnet and me!"
Come fill up my cup, &c.

He waved his proud hand, and the trumpets were blown,

The kettle-drums clashed and the horsemen rode on, Till on Ravelston's cliffs and on Clermiston's lea away the wild war-notes of Bonny Dundee.

Died

Come fill up my cup, come fill up my can;
Come saddle the horses, and call up the men;
Come open your gates, and let me gae free,
For it's up with the bonnets of Bonny
Dundee !

SIR WALTER SCOTT.

THE BURIAL-MARCH OF DUNDEE.

JULY, 1689.

SOUND the fife, and cry the slogan —
Let the pibroch shake the air
With its wild triumphal music,
Worthy of the freight we bear.
Let the ancient hills of Scotland
Hear once more the battle-song
Swell within their glens and valleys
As the clansmen march along!
Never from the field of combat,
Never from the deadly fray,
Was a nobler trophy carried

Than we bring with us to-day;
Never since the valiant Douglas
On his dauntless bosom bore
Good King Robert's heart—the priceless
To our dear Redeemer's shore !

Lo! we bring with us the hero —

Lo! we bring the conquering Græme,

Crowned as best beseems a victor

From the altar of his fame;