JACOBITE RELICS.
91
Nobles once high-hearted,
From their homes have parted,
Scatter'd, scar'd, and started
By a base-born band.
Hark the foe is calling,
Fast the woods are falling;
Scenes and sights appalling
Thicken round the land.
Oh! that death had found me
And in darkness bound me,
Ere each object round me
Grew so sweet, so dear.
Spots that once were cheering.
Girls beloved endearing.
Friends from whom I'm steering,
Take this parting tear.
