'45, shared this sentiment, as Walter
Scott later shared it, both realizing that it had nothing to do with
practical politics. Out of this feeling there grew a considerable body
of poetry, a poetry full of idealism, touched with melancholy, and
atoning for its lack of reality by a richness of imaginative emotion.
Burns led the way in this unique movement, and was worthily followed
by such writers as Lady Nairne, James Hogg, and Sir Walter himself. He
followed his usual custom of availing himself of fragments of the
older lyrics, but as usual he polished the pebbles into jewels and set
them in gold. Here are a few specimens of this poetry of a lost cause.

IT WAS A' FOR OUR RIGHTFU' KING

It was a' for our rightfu' King,
We left fair Scotland's strand;
It was a' for our rightfu' King,
We e'er saw Irish land,
My dear,
We e'er saw Irish land.

Now a' is done that men can do,
And a' is done in vain;
My love and native land farewell,
For I maun cross the main, [must]
My dear,
For I maun cross the main.

He turn'd him right and round about
Upon the Irish shore;
And gae his bridle-reins a shake, [gave]
With adieu for evermore,
My dear,
Adieu for evermore.

The sodger from the wars returns, [soldier]
The sailor frae the main;
But I hae parted frae my love,
Never to meet again,
My dear,
Never to meet again.

When day is gane, and night is come,
And a' folk bound to sleep,
I think on him that's far awa',
The lee-lang night, and weep, [live-long]
My dear,
The lee-lang night, and weep.

COME BOAT ME O'ER TO CHARLIE

Come boat me o'er, come row me o'er,
Come boat me o'er to Charlie;
I'll gie John Ross another bawbee, [half-penny]
To boat me o'er to Charlie.

We'll o'er the water, we'll o'er the sea,
We'll o'er the water to Charlie;
Come weal, come woe, we'll gather and go,
And live or die wi' Charlie.

I lo'e weel my Charlie's name, [love]
Tho' some there be abhor him:
But O, to see auld Nick gaun hame, [going]
And Charlie's faes before him! [foes]