He’d break the insular pride of her.
But vain was his hope! He never could ope,
In the land of that marvellous lass, a door;
For she danced in the face of the King and the Pope,
As she danced for the Spanish ambassador.
Cho.—Oh! she danced, she danced, she danced, etc.
A STORMING PARTY.
It was at Stirling Castle. People who did not know might have called it the shed, but that would show their ignorance. On the ramparts was mustered a gallant band, the flower of Scotland, armed with mangonels, catapults, and bows and arrows; below were the English, with their battering-rams and culverins and things. Ned was the English general, and led the storming party, and I was his staff, and Billy was the drummer, and drummed for the king. The Scottish general was Tom, and he had on Susie’s plaid skirt for a kilt, and his sporran was the rocking-horse’s tail that had come off.