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126 , LADY NAIRNE AND HER SONGS.
They cam' to fight for Scotland's right An' the young Chevalier.
They 've left their bonnie Highland hills,
Their wives and bairnies dear, To draw the sword for Scotland's lord,
The young Chevalier.
Oh, there were mony beating hearts
An' mony a hope an' fear, An' mony were the prayers sent up For the young Chevalier. Oh, Charlie is my darling, My darling, my darling, Oh, Charlie is my darling, The young Chevalier.
There is one of Lady Nairne's songs not quite perfect, for one forced and faulty line in the refrain, which has a higher touch of the imagination than any of the others. The influence of the magic of nature in the interpretation of human sorrow or gladness, and the wild mystery of the birds' melody upon the heart, which is characteristic of the highest order of the folk-song, and which, in its irregularity and simplicity, not less than the melody, which is nature's own voice, rather than the rhythm of art, is beyond the reach of any deliberate skill. It would be hard to find anything more perfect at once in its picture and its interpretation of the voice of nature in human words than —