The Book of Scottish Song/Strathallan's Lament
Strathallan’s Lament.
[This Lament, written by Burns for Johnson's Museum, is supposed to express the feelings of James Drummond, Viscount of Strathallan, who escaped to France after the battle of Culloden, where his father was slain. "The air," says Burns, "is the composition of one of the worthiest and best-hearted men living—Allan Masterton, school-master in Edinburgh. As he and I were both sprouts of jacobitism, we agreed to dedicate the words and air to that cause. To tell the matter of fact, except when my passions were heated by some accidental cause, my jacobitism was merely by way of vive la bagatelle."]
Thickest night, o'erhang my dwelling!
Howling tempests, o'er me rave!
Turbid torrents, wintry swelling,
Still surround my lonely cave!
Crystal streamlets, gently flowing,
Busy haunts of base mankind,
Western breezes, softly blowing,
Suit not my distracted mind.
In the cause of right engaged,
Wrongs injurious to redress,
Honour's war we strongly waged,
But the heavens denied success.
Ruin's wheel has driven o'er us,
Not a hope that dare attend,
The wide world is all before us—
But a world without a friend!