Home, Sweet Home (1829)/Donald McDonald

DONALD M DONALD.

My name it is Donald M Dnnald,
⁠I live in the Highlands sae grand ;
I’ve followed our banners, and will do,
⁠Wharever my maker has land.
Whan rankit amang the blue bannets,
⁠Nae danger can fear me ava ;
I ken that my brethren around me
⁠Are either to conquer or fa’.
⁠⁠⁠⁠Brogues and brochen, and a’,
⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Brochen and brogues, and a',
⁠⁠⁠⁠And is na she very weel aff,
⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Wha has brogues and brochen, and a'.

Last year we were wonderfu’ canty,
⁠Our friends and our country to see ;
But since the proud Corsican’s vauntie,
⁠We'll meet him by laud or by sea.
Whenever a clan is disloyal,
⁠Whoever our king has a foe,

He’ll quietly see Donald M Donald,
⁠Wi’ his Highhandmen a' in a row.
⁠⁠⁠Guns and pistols, and a’,
⁠⁠⁠⁠Pistols and guns, and a’.
⁠⁠⁠He’ll quickly see Donald McDonald,
⁠⁠⁠⁠Wi guns and pistols, and a’.

What tho’ we befriendit young Charlie,
⁠To tell it I dinna think shame,
Poor lad, he came to us but barely,
⁠And reckoned our mountains his hame.
Its true that our reason forbade us,
⁠But tenderness carried the day:
Had Geordie come friendless amang us,
⁠Wi' him we had a’ gane. awa
⁠⁠Sword and buckler, and a’;
⁠⁠⁠Buckler and sword, and a'
⁠⁠For George we’ll encounter the devil,
⁠⁠⁠Wi sword and buckler, and a’.

And oh! I would earnestly press him,
⁠The keys o’ the East to retain;
For should he gie up the possession.
⁠We’d soon has to force them again;
Than yield up ae inch wi' dishonour,
⁠Tho’ it were ray finishing blow,
When he may depend on M Donald,
⁠Wi’ his Highlandmen a’ in a row,
⁠⁠Knees and elbows, and a’;
⁠⁠⁠Elbows and knees, and a';
⁠⁠Depend upon Donald M'Donald,
⁠⁠⁠Wi’s knees and elbows, and a’.

If Buonaparte land at Fort William,
⁠Auld Europe nae langer sail grant.
I laugh when I think how we ll gall him,
⁠Wi’ bullet, wi’ steel, and vi‘ stane.
Wi’ rocks e' the Nevis and Gairy,
⁠We’ll rattle him aff frae our shore.
Or loll him asleep 'neath a carniey,
⁠And sing him Lochalar no more.
⁠⁠Slants and bullets, ant) a',
⁠⁠⁠Bullets and stanes, and a’;
⁠⁠We’ll Finish the Corsican callan,
⁠⁠⁠Wi’ slants and bullet?, and a',

The Gordon is gude in a hurry,
⁠The Campbell is steel to the bane,
And Grant, and M’Kenzie, and Murray,
⁠And Cameron will hurkle to nane.
The Stuart is sturdy and wannel.
⁠And sae is M’Leod and McKay,
And I, their gudebrother, M‘Donald,
⁠Shall ne’er be the last in the fray.
⁠⁠Brogues and brochen, and a’.
⁠⁠⁠Brochen and brogues, and a’,
⁠⁠Sae up wi’ the bonny blue bannet.
⁠⁠⁠The kilt and the feather, and a’.

FINIS.