Tho’ right be aft put down by stre… As mony a day we saw that, The true and leilfu’ cause at leng… Shall bear the grie for a’ that. For a’ that an a’ that,

Soft spread the southern sumer nig… Her veil of darksome blue; Ten thousand stars combined to lig… The terrace of Saint Cloud. The evening breezes gently sigh’d,

An ancient minstrel sagely said, ‘Where is the life which late we l… That motley clown in Arden wood, Whom humorous Jaques with envy vi… Not even that clown could amplify,

O listen, listen, ladies gay! No haughty feat of arms I tell; Soft is the note, and sad the lay That mourns the lovely Rosabelle. ‘Moor, moor the barge, ye gallant…

To the Lords of Convention ’twas… ‘Ere the King’s crown shall fall… So let each Cavalier who loves ho… Come follow the bonnet of Bonny D… Come fill up my cup, come fill up…

At morn the black-cock trims his j… ‘T is morning prompts the linnet’s… All Nature’s children feel the ma… Of life reviving, with reviving da… And while yon little bark glides d…

Pibroch of Donuil Dhu, Pibroch of Donuil, Wake thy wild voice anew, Summon Clan-Conuil. Come away, come away,

Soldier, wake - the day is peeping… Honour ne’er was won in sleeping, Never when the sunbeams still Lay unreflected on the hill: ’Tis when they are glinted back

Introduction. The way was long, the wind was col… The Minstrel was infirm and old; His wither’d cheek, and tresses gr… Seem’d to have known a better day;

In Imitation of An Old English… My wayward fate I needs must plai… Though bootless be the theme; I loved, and was beloved again, Yet all was but a dream:

Pibroch of Donuil Dhu Pibroch of Donuil Wake thy wild voice anew, Summon Clan Conuil! Come away, come away,

Heap on more wood! the wind is chi… But let it whistle as it will, We’ll keep our Christmas merry st… Each age has deemed the new-born y… The fittest time for festal cheer;

SONG Soldier, rest! thy warfare o’er, Sleep the sleep that knows not bre… Dream of battled fields no more, Days of danger, nights of waking.

Soldier, rest! thy warfare o’er, Sleep the sleep that knows not bre… Dream of battled fields no more, Days of danger, nights of waking. In our isle’s enchanted hall,

Wasted, weary, wherefore stay, Wrestling thus with earth and clay… From the body pass away;- Hark! the mass is singing. From thee doff thy mortal weed,