The Wedding of Shon Maclean

THE WEDDING OF SHON MACLEAN. A bagpipe melody from the Gaelic. At the wedding of Shon Maclean Twenty Pipers together Came in the wind and the rain Playing over the heather; Backward their ribbons flew, Bravely they strutted and blew, Each clad in tartan new, Bonnet, and blackcock feather, And every piper was fu', Twenty pipers together. He's but a Sassenach blind and vain Who never heard of Shon Maclean— The Duke's own piper, called "Shon the Fair," From his freckled skin and his fiery hair. Father and son, since the world's creation, The Macleans had followed this occupation, And played the pibroch to fire the clan Since the first Duke came and the Earth began. Like the whistling of birds, like the humming of bees, Like the sough of the south-wind in the trees, Like the singing of angels, the playing of shawms, Like Ocean itself with its storms and its calms, Were the pipes of Shon, when he strutted and blew,— A cock whose crowing creation he knew! At last in the prime of his playing life, The spirit moved him to take a wife— A lassie with eyes of Highland blue, Who loved the pipes and the piper too, And danced to the sound with a foot and a leg White as a lily and smooth as an egg. So, all the Pipers were coming together Over the moor and across the heather, All in the wind and the rain; All the Pipers so bravely drest Were flocking in from the east and the west, To bless the bedding and blow their best At the wedding of Shon Maclean. At the wedding of Shon Maclean, 'Twas wet and windy weather! Yet, thro' the wind and the rain Came twenty Pipers together! Earach and Dougal Dhu, Sandy of Isla too, Each with the bonnet o' blue, Tartan, and blackcock feather: And every Piper was fu' Twenty pipers together. The knot was tied, the words were said, Shon was married, the feast was spread, At the head of the table sat, high and hoar, Strong Sandy of Isla, age fourscore, Whiskerd, grey as a Haskeir seal, And clad in crimson from head to heel, Beneath and round him in their degree, Gathering the men of minstrelrie, With keepers, gillies, lads and lassies, Mixing voices, and jingling glasses. At soup and haggis, at roast and boil'd, Awhile the happy gathering toil'd,— While Shon and Jean at the table ends Shook hands with a hundred of their friends,— Then came a hush. Thro' the open door A wee bright Form flash'd on the floor,— The Duke himself, in the kilt and plaid, With slim soft knees, like the knees of a maid, And took a glass, and he cried out plain "I drink to the health of Shon Maclean! To Shon the Piper, and Jean his wife! A clean fireside and a merry life!" Then out he slipt, and each man sprang To his feet, and with "hooch" the chamber rang! "Clear the tables," shrieked out one— A leap, a scramble, the thing was done! And then the Pipers all in a row Tuned their pipes and began to blow While all to dance stood fain: Sandy of Isla and Earach More, Dougal Dhu from Kilfiannan shore, Played up the company on the floor At the wedding of Shon Maclean. At the wedding of Shon Maclean Twenty Pipers together Stood up, while all their train Ceased their clatter and blether, Full of the mountain-dew, First on their pipes they blew, Mighty of bone and thew, Red-cheek'd with lungs of leather; And every Piper was fu' Twenty Pipers together. Who led the dance? In pomp and pride The Duke himself led out the Bride. Great was the joy of each beholder, For the wee Duke only reach'd her shoulder: And they danced, and turned, when the reel began, Like a giantess and a fairy man! But like an earthquake was the din When Shon himself led the Duchess in! And she took her place before them there, Like a white mouse dancing with a bear. How the little Duchess, so slim an