Highland Sketches.

The Romans, Saxons and the Danes             Did oft o'er run the Scottish plains.             So daring were those mauraders             And skilful too were invaders.             The lowland man enjoyed his farm,             But oft he was in great alarm,             When Highlanders o'er plain would sweep             And drive to hills his steers and sheep.             For highlandmen were taught in song             The lowlands to them did belong,             Each highland chief he ruled like king             And Bards they did his praises sing,             In war the chief he led the van,             Marching to battle with his clan,             And when the foe attacked their chief             The clansmen rushed to his relief.             When they King William's forces mass             In Killicrankie's famous pass,             The highlanders with joy and glee             Rushed on them led by bold Dundee.             Lowland troops they would not tarry             But they strove to ford the Garry,             Soon many on the field lay dead,             In river floated many a head.             For clansmen with the good broad sword             Of battlefield they soon were Lord,             And historians will rank the             Chief highland victory of Killicrankie.             Again there sweeps the highland clans,             Victorious at Preston Pans,             Under Prince Charlie full of hope,             They drove the troops were led by Cope.             But from Culloden Charlie flies             While Highland blood the heather dyes,             For months he wandered 'mong the hills             Young Flora strove to soothe his ills.             While he was hunted by blood hounds,             For sake of thirty thousand pounds,             But Highlanders the gold despise,             And honor only each doth prize.             At last to Charlie's great delight,             From France a vessel hove in sight,             And safely bore the gallant Prince             To the sunny shores of France.             And may once more each hill and glen             Be filled with hardy Highland men,             Who love bagpipes and bonnets blue             And give to Britain soldiers true.