The Madisonian. [volume] (Washington City [i.e. Washington, D.C.]) 1837-1845, 1838-01-13
ron THE MADIsosrAN.
"LOcHABER NO MORE:.

There are few, we believe, who are aware that
the exquisiteIy beautiful and touching ballad of the
above title, composed by the brave and generous
Earl of Derwentwater who fell victim 10 his zeal
in the cause of the rebellion Of IT'S The avowed
object OF that reb.llion-as is well known TO every
reader of English hisory--was the establishment Of
the son of James the Second, Commonly called the
pretender) on the throne Of England. For there
were many of the most powerful and influential OF
the Scottish nobility, infexibly opposed to that
change in the order of succession which excluded
the line ofthe Siuarts. Louis the Fourteenth (wbo
strenuousy promoted the views of the malconients)
Immediately on the death Of Queen Anne despatch
ed the pretender to Scotland, where, with the power
ful assistance of his adherents In that kingdom, he
was crowned at Perth. The rebellion, however, was
illconcered, and, in short time, completely failed
Many Of the rebels assembled al Preston, were com
PEELED, by superior numbers to surrender themselves
prisoners at discretion.
Among them were the Earls Of Derwentwater
and Nilhesdale, the latter Of whom escaped from
prison through the ingenious stratagem Of his young
and devoted wife, while the former was executed on
Tower Hill. Thus fell the chief of the noble
house of Derwentwater, al the age Of only twenty
eight years, leaving young and beautiful widow
and two infant children" TO lament his early and
melancholy doom.
The tender and heroic lines to which we have al
luded, were composed by the Earl and addressed TO
his Lady on the eve of his departure to join the re-
bells
Farewell to Lochaber and farewell my Jean,
| Where heartsome with thee have many days been;
] For Lochaber no more, LOchaber no more,
| Well maybe return To Lochaber no more;
| These tears that shed, they are all for my dear,
J And moi for the dangers attending on war:
/ Though borne rough seas TO far bloody shore,
! Maybe to return to Lochaber no more
| Though hurricanes rise, and raise every wind,
| They'll ne'er make tempest like that in my mind,
| Though oudest of thunder On louder waves roar,
There's naithing like leaving my love on the shore
/ To leave thee behind me my heart is sair painedi-
/ BY ease that's ingiorious no fame can be gained;
/ And beauty aud loves the reward of the brave,
| And must deserve il before can crave.
| Then glory, my Jeany, mann plead my excrse,
| Since NOR commands M, how can refuse,
4 Withou it ne'er can ave merit for thee,
| And without thy favor, I'd better moi be- ~
gaze then my lass TO win honor al d fame,
1 And if Ishould luck to come gloriousy hame,
| A heart Ill bring TO thee with love running DER,
| And then I'll leave thee and Loeb; Der no morel
| This ballad has received an enthusiastic erccmi-
UNI from the glowing pen Of the au'horess of CoRN-
NE, in that most eloquent of her imaginary produc-
tons. The air to which it is sung is said to be mex
pressbly soft and plaintive and in the weary hours
of the Caledonian exile's hear,+ wherever he may
wander, it fail TO recall his pensive md
fearful recollection the beetlipg braes and brawlng
burns ofthe home he may visit q no more"
OSCAR.
." o the exile's heart hath weary hoursr'
HEMANs.