Of the personal history of John Hamilton only a few particulars can be ascertained. He carried on business for many years as a music-seller in North Bridge Street, Edinburgh, and likewise gave instructions in the art of instrumental music to private families. He had the good fortune to attract the favour of one of his fair pupils—a young lady of birth and fortune—whom he married, much to the displeasure of her relations. He fell into impaired health, and died on the 23d of September 1814, in the fifty-third year of his age. To the lovers of Scottish melody the name of Mr Hamilton is familiar, as a composer of several esteemed and beautiful airs. His contributions to the department of Scottish song entitle his name to an honourable place.
THE RANTIN' HIGHLANDMAN.
Ae morn, last ouk, as I gaed out
To flit a tether'd ewe and lamb,
I met, as skiffin' ower the green,
A jolly, rantin' Highlandman.
His shape was neat, wi' feature sweet,
And ilka smile my favour wan;
I ne'er had seen sae braw a lad
As this young rantin' Highlandman.
He said, "My dear, ye 're sune asteer;
Cam' ye to hear the lav'rock's sang?
Oh, wad ye gang and wed wi' me,
And wed a rantin' Highlandman?
In summer days, on flow'ry braes,
When frisky are the ewe and lamb,
I 'se row ye in my tartan plaid,
And be your rantin' Highlandman.
"Wi' heather bells, that sweetly smell,
I 'll deck your hair, sae fair and lang,
If ye 'll consent to scour the bent
Wi' me, a rantin' Highlandman.
We 'll big a cot, and buy a stock,
Syne do the best that e'er we can;
Then come, my dear, ye needna fear
To trust a rantin' Highlandman."
His words, sae sweet, gaed to my heart,
And fain I wad hae gi'en my han';
Yet durstna, lest my mither should
Dislike a rantin' Highlandman.
But I expect he will come back;
Then, though my kin should scauld and ban,
I 'll ower the hill, or whare he will,
Wi' my young rantin' Highlandman.
UP IN THE MORNIN' EARLY.[25]
Tune—"The Brave Old Oak."
'Tis Yule! 'tis Yule! all eyes are bright,
And joyous songs abound;
Our log burns high, but it glows less bright
Than the eyes which sparkle round.
The merry laugh, and the jocund tale,
And the kiss 'neath the mistletoe,
Make care fly as fast as the blustering gale
That wreaths the new fallen snow.
'Tis Yule! 'tis Yule! all eyes are bright,
And joyous thoughts abound;
The log burns high, but it glows less bright
Than the eyes which sparkle round.
'Tis Yule! 'tis Yule! see the old grandsire
Forgets his weight of years;
He laughs with the young, and a fitful fire
Beams through his unbidden tears.
With tremulous tenor he joins the strain—
The song of his manhood's prime;
For his thoughts grow young, and he laughs again,
While his aged head nods time.
'Tis Yule! 'tis Yule! &c.
'Tis Yule! 'tis Yule! and the infant's heart
Beats high with a new delight,
And youths and maidens, with guileless art,
Make merry the livelong night.
The time flies on with gladsome cheer,
And welcomes pass around—
'Tis the warmest night of all the year,
Though winter hath chain'd the ground.
'Tis Yule! 'tis Yule! &c.
