Before my breath, like blazing flax, Man and his marvels pass away! And changing empires wane and wax, Are founded, flourish, and decay.
Redeem mine hours—the space is brief— While in my glass the sand-grains shiver, And measureless thy joy or grief, When Time and thou shalt part for ever!’
Scott.
[LX]
THE RED HARLAW
The herring loves the merry moonlight, The mackerel loves the wind, But the oyster loves the dredging sang, For they come of a gentle kind.
Now haud your tongue, baith wife and carle, And listen, great and sma', And I will sing of Glenallan's Earl That fought on the red Harlaw.
The cronach's cried on Bennachie, And doun the Don and a', And hieland and lawland may mournfu' be For the sair field of Harlaw.
They saddled a hundred milk-white steeds, They hae bridled a hundred black, With a chafron of steel on each horse's head And a good knight upon his back.
They hadna ridden a mile, a mile, A mile, but barely ten, When Donald came branking down the brae Wi' twenty thousand men.
Their tartans they were waving wide, Their glaives were glancing clear, The pibrochs rang frae side to side, Would deafen ye to hear.