Christy and The Pipers

<SPAN name="startofbook"></SPAN> <h2><SPAN name="CHRISTY_AND_THE_PIPERS" id="CHRISTY_AND_THE_PIPERS"></SPAN>CHRISTY AND THE PIPERS.</h2> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">'Twas a score of years since I'd heard the pipes,</span> <span class="i1">But the other night I heard them;</span> <span class="i0">There are sweet old memories in my heart,</span> <span class="i1">And the music woke and stirred them.</span> </div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">In the armories, at the big parade</span> <span class="i1">The highland regiment was giving,</span> <span class="i0">A half-dozen pipers piping away&mdash;</span> <span class="i1">Ah! 'twas music, as sure as your living.</span> </div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Donald's lowland, he shook his head at me,</span> <span class="i1">And glowered with every feature,</span> <span class="i0">And a pretty young lassie just behind</span> <span class="i1">Said: "Oh, what a funny old creature!"</span> </div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">But the skirl o' the pipes got in my ears,</span> <span class="i1">In my eyes, and made them misty;</span> <span class="i0">I laughed and I cried, and Donald said low:</span> <span class="i1">"Dinna act so daft, noo, Christy!"</span> </div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[54]</SPAN></span> <span class="i0">"Do ye no see the elder sitting there?</span> <span class="i1">Dinna act sae daft, my wooman.</span> <span class="i0">Can ye no hear the airs o' auld lang syne</span> <span class="i1">Wi'oot fashin' yersel' sae, wooman?"</span> </div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">But the skirl o' the pipes got in my heart,</span> <span class="i1">It got in my throat and choked me,</span> <span class="i0">It got in my feet, and tapped my toes,</span> <span class="i1">And my shame-faced Donald poked me.</span> </div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">"But isn't it grand? O, isn't it grand?"</span> <span class="i1">"Ay, a fine auld player is Mylands,</span> <span class="i0">But the pipes' wild sound disna stir my bluid"&mdash;</span> <span class="i1">He was not born in the highlands.</span> </div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Do you know what I saw as I sat there?</span> <span class="i1">I saw the hills and the heather,</span> <span class="i0">The green, and the lads and the lassies there</span> <span class="i1">All dancing the reels together.</span> </div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">I saw our glen, half hid, and the rocks</span> <span class="i1">Standing guard like grim old watchmen.</span> <span class="i0">Oh, the land o' heather and hill and loch</span> <span class="i1">Must e'en be dear to a Scotchman.</span> </div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">And I saw, too, the soldiers blithe and brave</span> <span class="i1">Their flag to the breeze unfurling,</span> <span class="i0">As they marched away on a morning fair</span> <span class="i1">To the bagpipes' merry skirling.</span> </div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[55]</SPAN></span> <span class="i0">My brother was one. As he kissed my cheek,</span> <span class="i1">I could hear him proudly saying:</span> <span class="i0">"Ho! you'll know when we come marching home,</span> <span class="i1">For you'll hear our pipers playing."</span> </div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Oh, the bonniest lads in kilt and hose&mdash;</span> <span class="i1">Braver men, you cannot find them&mdash;</span> <span class="i0">And few, so few, came marching home</span> <span class="i1">To the loved ones left behind them.</span> </div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">'Twas a loyal heart, and a strong right arm,</span> <span class="i1">With a stubborn foe before them;</span> <span class="i0">A soldier's grave in a far off land,</span> <span class="i1">And God's blue sky bending o'er them.</span> </div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">As I hearkened to sweet old martial airs</span> <span class="i1">I could hear my brother saying:</span> <span class="i0">"Ho! you'll know when we come marching home,</span> <span class="i1">For you'll hear our pipers playing."</span> </div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">There are only harps in heaven, I'm told,</span> <span class="i1">And maybe I shouldn't say it,</span> <span class="i0">For a harp of gold's a wondrous thing</span> <span class="i1">In a hand that's skilled to play it.</span> </div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">But those highland lads, 'twas the pibroch's call</span> <span class="i1">They heard morning, noon, and even,</span> <span class="i0">And the pibroch's call, I believe in my heart,</span> <span class="i1">They will hear in the streets of heaven.</span> </div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">They marched to the old belovèd airs</span> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[56]</SPAN></span> <span class="i1">'Mid the bullets' hail and rattle;</span> <span class="i0">'Twas the last sweet sound that fell on their ears</span> <span class="i1">'Mid the clamor and clang of battle.</span> </div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">O a harp when an angel strikes the strings</span> <span class="i1">Is softer and sweeter, but try</span> <span class="i0">As I will, I cannot fancy a harp</span> <span class="i1">In the hands of, say, Peter MacKay.</span> </div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">And were an angel to proffer him one,</span> <span class="i1">Methinks I can hear him saying:</span> <span class="i0">"'Twas not on an instrument like the same</span> <span class="i1">That Pete MacKay will be playing,</span> </div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">"For she neffer set eyes on it before,</span> <span class="i1">Isn't quick to learn, or cleffer;</span> <span class="i0">She'd break the strings if she took it in hand,</span> <span class="i1">She couldn't do it, whateffer.</span> </div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">"So please be excusing old Pete MacKay&mdash;</span> <span class="i1">But hark! bring the chanter to me,</span> <span class="i0">I'll play the 'March o' the Cameron Men,'</span> <span class="i1">And afterward 'Bonnie Dundee.'"</span> </div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">I told this to Donald late that night;</span> <span class="i1">He said, as he sipped his toddy,</span> <span class="i0">"Do ye ken ye shocked the elder the night?</span> <span class="i1">Yersel' is the doited body.</span> </div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">"And are ye speaking o' bagpipes in Heaven?</span> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[57]</SPAN></span> <span class="i1">Ah, Christy, I'm that astoonded</span> <span class="i0">I'll hae the guid meenister speak tae ye,</span> <span class="i1">For, Christy, ye're no weel groonded."</span> </div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Well, if it is heresy to believe</span> <span class="i1">In the promise of the Father,</span> <span class="i0">"Eye hath not seen, ear hath not heard,"</span> <span class="i1">I am heretical, rather.</span> </div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">I believe when the last loud trump shall sound,</span> <span class="i1">The old flag again unfurling,</span> <span class="i0">My highland lads will come marching home</span> <span class="i1">To the bagpipes grandly skirling.</span> </div> <div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />