ated flower,
The Rose of Seaton Vale.

KATHERINE AND DONALD.

Young Donald dearer loved than life
The proud Dunallan's daughter;
But, barr'd by feudal hate and strife,
In vain he loved and sought her.
She loved the Lord of Garry's glen,
The chieftain of Clanronald;
A thousand plaided Highlandmen
Clasp'd the claymore for Donald.

On Scotland rush'd the Danish hordes,
Dunallan met his foemen;
Beneath him bared ten thousand swords
Of vassal, serf, and yeomen.
The fray was fierce--and at its height
Was seen a visor'd stranger,
With red lance foremost in the fight,
Unfearing Dane and danger.

"Be praised--brave knight! thy steel hath striven
The sharpest in the slaughter;
Crave what thou wilt of me--though even
My fair--my darling daughter!"
He lifts the visor from his face--
The chieftain of Clanronald!
And foes enclasp in friends' embrace,
Dunallan and young Donald.

Dunallan's halls ring loud with glee--
The feast-cup glads Glengarry;
The joy that should for ever be
When mutual lovers marry.
The shout and shell the revellers raise,
Dunallan and Clanronald;
And minstrel measures pour to praise
Fair Kath'rine and brave Donald!

GUID NIGHT, AN' JOY BE WI' YOU A'.

Guid night, and joy be wi' you a'!
Since it is sae that I maun gang;
Short seem'd the gate to come, but ah!
To gang again as wearie lang.
Sic joyous nights come nae sae thrang
That I sae sune sou'd haste awa';
But since it's sae that I maun gae,
Guid night, and joy be wi' ye a'!

This night I ween we've had the heart
To gar auld Time tak' to his feet;
That makes us a' fu' laith to part,
But aye mair fain again to meet!
To dree the winter's drift and weet
For sic a night is nocht ava,
For hours the sweetest o' the sweet;
Guid night, an' joy be wi' you a'!

Our bald-pow'd daddies here we've seen,
In younker revels fidgin' fain;
Our gray-hair'd grannies here hae been,
Like daffin hizzies, young again!
To mony a merrie auld Scot's strain
We've deftly danced the time awa':
We met in mirth--we part wi' pain,
Guid night, an' joy be wi' you a'!

My nimble gray neighs at the yett,
My shouthers roun' the plaid I throw;
I've clapt