The authoress of Macgregor’s Lullaby was a daughter of Colin Campbell of Glenorchy, and the wife of Gregor Macgregor, whose death she laments in this Lullaby. Her husband, his brother, Malcolm Roy, along with their father, Duncan Macgregor, were beheaded in 1552 by Colin Campbell of Glenorchy, Campbell of Glenlyon, and Menzies of Rannoch. The Black Duncan mentioned in the song was her brother, the seventh laird of Glenorchy, whose picture is still preserved at Taymouth Castle. The following is Pattison’s rendering of the Lullaby, which, along with the next two songs referred to (not in the Dean’s book), have always been very popular:— Early on a Lammas morning with my husband was I gay; But my heart got sorely wounded ere the middle of the day. Chorus—Ochan, ochan, uiri, Though I cry, my child, with thee— Ochan, ochan, uiri, Now he hears not thee nor me. Malison on judge and kindred, they have wrought me mickle woe; With deceit they came about us, with deceit they laid him low. Had they met but twelve Macgregors with my Gregor at their head; Now my child had not been orphaned, nor these bitter tears been shed. On an oaken block they laid him, and they spilt his blood around; I’d have drunk it in a goblet largely, ere it reached the ground. * * * * * When the rest have all got lovers now a lover have I none; My fair blossom, fresh and fragrant, withers on the ground alone. While all other wives the night-time pass in slumbers balmy bands, I upon my bedside weary, never cease to wring my hands. Far, far better be with Gregor where the heather’s in its prime, Than with mean and Lowland barons in a house of stone and lime, &c. _Other Macgregor Songs_ of the same era are “_Macgregor O Ruara_” and “_The Braes of the Ceathach_.” _Macgregor O Ruara_ begins thus:— There is sorrow, and sorrow, and sorrow now fills me— Poor pitiful sorrow no man can redress; It is sorrow and sighing, and sadness that thrills me— Oh! terrible sadness I cannot repress. Macgregor has perished—Macgregor, pine-bannered— Macgregor, beloved in Glenlyon the green; Macgregor, the brave, by whose foes ever honoured The threatening roar of our pibroch has been.