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+Project Gutenberg's The Modern Scottish Minstrel , Volume I., by Various
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Modern Scottish Minstrel , Volume I.
+ The Songs of Scotland of the past half century
+
+Author: Various
+
+Editor: Charles Rogers
+
+Release Date: May 15, 2006 [EBook #18396]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: UTF-8
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MODERN SCOTTISH MINSTREL ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Ted Garvin, Susan Skinner and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration:
+
+THE
+
+MODERN SCOTTISH MINSTREL;
+
+BY
+
+CHARLES ROGERS, LL.D.
+F.S.A. SCOT.
+
+VOL. I.
+
+
+THE AULD HOUSE O' GASK.
+_THE BIRTH PLACE OF LADY NAIRN._
+_(Copied by permission of Patterson & Sons)_
+
+EDINBURGH:
+ADAM & CHARLES BLACK, NORTH BRIDGE,
+BOOKSELLERS AND PUBLISHERS TO THE QUEEN.]
+
+ * * * * *
+
+[Illustration:
+
+SIR WALTER SCOTT BART.
+
+Lithographed for the Modern Scottish Minstrel, by Schenck & McFarlane.]
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+
+
+THE
+
+MODERN SCOTTISH MINSTREL;
+
+OR,
+
+THE SONGS OF SCOTLAND OF THE
+PAST HALF CENTURY.
+
+WITH
+
+Memoirs of the Poets,
+
+AND
+
+SKETCHES AND SPECIMENS
+IN ENGLISH VERSE OF THE MOST CELEBRATED
+MODERN GAELIC BARDS.
+
+BY
+
+CHARLES ROGERS, LL.D.
+F.S.A. SCOT.
+
+
+IN SIX VOLUMES;
+
+VOL. I.
+
+
+EDINBURGH:
+
+ADAM & CHARLES BLACK, NORTH BRIDGE,
+BOOKSELLERS AND PUBLISHERS TO HER MAJESTY.
+
+M.DCCC.LV.
+
+
+EDINBURGH:
+PRINTED BY BALLANTYNE AND COMPANY,
+PAUL'S WORK.
+
+
+
+
+TO
+
+WILLIAM STIRLING, ESQ. OF KEIR, M.P.,
+
+AN ENLIGHTENED SENATOR, AN ACCOMPLISHED SCHOLAR, AND AN INGENIOUS POET,
+
+THIS FIRST VOLUME
+
+OF
+
+The Modern Scottish Minstrel
+
+IS,
+
+WITH HIS KIND PERMISSION, MOST RESPECTFULLY INSCRIBED,
+
+BY
+
+HIS VERY OBEDIENT, FAITHFUL SERVANT,
+
+CHARLES ROGERS.
+
+
+
+
+PREFACE.
+
+
+Scotland has probably produced a more patriotic and more extended
+minstrelsy than any other country in the world. Those Caledonian
+harp-strains, styled by Sir Walter Scott "gems of our own mountains,"
+have frequently been gathered into caskets of national song, but have
+never been stored in any complete cabinet; while no attempt has been
+made, at least on an ample scale, to adapt, by means of suitable
+metrical translations, the minstrelsy of the Gaël for Lowland melody.
+The present work has been undertaken with the view of supplying these
+deficiencies, and with the further design of extending the fame of those
+cultivators of Scottish song--hitherto partially obscured by untoward
+circumstances, or on account of their own diffidence--and of affording a
+stimulus towards the future cultivation of national poetry.
+
+The plan of the work is distinct from that of every previous collection
+of Scottish song--the more esteemed lyrical compositions of the various
+bards being printed along with the memoirs of the respective authors,
+while the names of the poets have been arranged in chronological order.
+Those have been considered as _modern_ whose lives extend into the past
+half-century; and the whole of these have consequently been included in
+the work. Several Highland bards who died a short period before the
+commencement of the century have, however, been introduced. Of all the
+Scottish poets, whether lyrical or otherwise, who survived the period
+indicated, biographical sketches will be supplied in the course of the
+publication, together with memoirs of the principal modern collectors,
+composers and vocalists. The memoirs, so far as is practicable, will be
+prepared from original materials, of which the Editor, after a very
+extensive correspondence, has obtained a supply more ample and more
+interesting than, he flatters himself, has ever been attained by any
+collector of northern minstrelsy. The work will extend to six volumes,
+each of the subsequent volumes being accompanied by a dissertation on a
+distinct department of Scottish poetry and song. Each volume will be
+illustrated with two elegant engravings. In the course of the work, many
+original compositions will be presented, recovered from the MSS. of the
+deceased poets, or contributed by distinguished living bards.
+
+For the department of the "Modern Gaelic Minstrelsy," the Editor has
+obtained the assistance of a learned friend, intimately familiar with
+the language and poetry of the Highlands. To this esteemed co-adjutor
+the reader is indebted for the revisal of the Gaelic department of this
+work, as well as for the following prefatory observations on the
+subject:--
+
+ "Among the intelligent natives of the Highlands, it is well known
+ that the Gaelic language contains a quantity of poetry, which, how
+ difficult soever to transfuse into other tongues and idioms, never
+ fails to touch the heart, and excite enthusiastic feelings. The
+ plan of 'The Modern Scottish Minstrel' restricts us to a period
+ less favourable to the inspirations of the Celtic muse than remoter
+ times. If it is asked, What could be gained by recurring to a more
+ distant period? or what this unlettered people have really to shew
+ for their bardic pretensions? we answer, that there is extant a
+ large and genuine collection of Highland minstrelsy, ranging over a
+ long exciting period, from the days of Harlaw to the expedition of
+ Charles Edward. The 'Prosnachadh Catha,' or battle-song, that led
+ on the raid of Donald the Islander on the Garioch, is still sung;
+ the 'Woes of the Children of the Mist' are yet rehearsed in the
+ ears of their children in the most plaintive measures. Innerlochy
+ and Killiecrankie have their appropriate melodies; Glencoe has its
+ dirge; both the exiled Jameses have their pæan and their lament;
+ Charles Edward his welcome and his wail;--all in strains so varied,
+ and with imagery so copious, that their repetition is continually
+ called for, and their interest untiring.
+
+ "All that we have to offer belongs to recent times; but we cannot
+ aver that the merit of the verses is inferior. The interest of the
+ subjects is certainly immeasurably less; but, perhaps, not less
+ propitious to the lilts and the luinneags, in which, as in her
+ music and imitative dancing, the Highland border has found her best
+ Lowland acceptation.
+
+ "We are not aware that we need except any piece, out of the more
+ ancient class, that seems not to admit of being rivalled by some of
+ the compositions of Duncan Ban (Macintyre), Rob Donn, and a few
+ others that come into our own series, if we exclude the pathetic
+ 'Old Bard's Wish,' 'The Song of the Owl,' and, perhaps, Ian Lom's
+ 'Innerlochy.'
+
+ "But, while this may be so far satisfactory to our readers, we are
+ under the necessity of claiming their charitable forbearance for
+ the strangers of the mountain whom we are to introduce to their
+ acquaintance. The language, and, in some respects, the imagery and
+ versification, are as foreign to the usages of the Anglo-Saxon as
+ so many samples of Orientalism. The transfusion of the Greek and
+ Latin choral metres is a light effort to the difficulty of
+ imitating the rhythm, or representing the peculiar vein of these
+ song-enamoured mountaineers. Those who know how a favourite ode of
+ Horace, or a lay of Catullus, is made to look, except in mere
+ paraphrase, must not talk of the poorness or triteness of the
+ Highlander's verses, till they are enabled to do them justice by a
+ knowledge of the language. We disdain any attempt to make those
+ bards sing in the mere English taste, even if we could so translate
+ them as to make them speak or sing better than they do. The fear of
+ his sarcasms prevented Dr Johnson from hearing one literal version
+ during his whole sojourn in the Highlands. Sir Walter Scott wished
+ that somebody might have the manliness to recover Highland poetry
+ from the mystification of paraphrase or imposture, and to present
+ it genuine to the English reader. In that spirit we promise to
+ execute our task; and we shall rejoice if even a very moderate
+ degree of success should attend our endeavours to obtain for the
+ sister muse some share of that popularity to which we believe her
+ entitled."
+
+In respect of the present volume of "The Modern Scottish Minstrel," the
+Editor has to congratulate himself on his being enabled to present, for
+the first time in a popular form, the more esteemed lays of Carolina,
+Baroness Nairn, author of "The Laird o' Cockpen," "The Land o' the
+Leal," and a greater number of popular lyrics than any other Caledonian
+bard, Burns alone excepted. Several pieces of this accomplished lady,
+not previously published, have been introduced, through the kindness of
+her surviving friends. The memoir of the Baroness has been prepared from
+original documents entrusted to the Editor. For permission to engrave
+"The Auld House o' Gask," Lady Nairn's birth-place, the Editor's thanks
+are due to Mr Paterson, music-seller in Edinburgh.
+
+While the present volume of "The Modern Scottish Minstrel" is offered to
+the public with becoming diffidence, the Editor is not without a faint
+ray of hope that, if health and sufficient leisure are afforded him, the
+present publication may be found the most ample and satisfactory
+repository of national song which has at any period been offered to the
+public.
+
+ ARGYLE HOUSE, STIRLING,
+ _April 18, 1855._
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS.
+
+ PAGE
+JOHN SKINNER, 1
+ Tullochgorum, 11
+ John o' Badenyon, 13
+ The ewie wi' the crookit horn, 17
+ O! why should old age so much wound us? 20
+ Still in the wrong, 22
+ Lizzy Liberty, 24
+ The stipendless parson, 28
+ The man of Ross, 31
+ A song on the times, 33
+
+WILLIAM CAMERON, 35
+ As o'er the Highland hills I hied, 37
+
+MRS JOHN HUNTER, 39
+ The Indian death-song, 41
+ My mother bids me bind my hair, 41
+ The flowers of the forest, 42
+ The season comes when first we met, 43
+ Oh, tuneful voice! I still deplore, 44
+ Dear to my heart as life's warm stream, 44
+ The lot of thousands, 45
+
+ALEXANDER, DUKE OF GORDON, 46
+ Cauld kail in Aberdeen, 48
+
+MRS GRANT OF CARRON, 50
+ Roy's wife of Aldivalloch, 52
+
+ROBERT COUPER, M.D., 53
+ Kinrara, 55
+ The sheeling, 55
+ The ewe-bughts, Marion, 56
+
+LADY ANNE BARNARD, 58
+ Auld Robin Gray, 64
+ " " Part II., 65
+ Why tarries my love? 68
+
+JOHN TAIT, 70
+ The banks of the Dee, 72
+
+HECTOR MACNEILL, 73
+ Mary of Castlecary, 82
+ My boy, Tammy, 83
+ Oh, tell me how for to woo, 85
+ Lassie wi' the gowden hair, 87
+ Come under my plaidie, 89
+ I lo'ed ne'er a laddie but ane, 90
+ Donald and Flora, 92
+ My luve's in Germany, 95
+ Dinna think, bonnie lassie, 96
+
+MRS GRANT OF LAGGAN, 99
+ Oh, where, tell me where? 104
+ Oh, my love, leave me not, 106
+
+JOHN MAYNE, 107
+ Logan braes, 110
+ Helen of Kirkconnel, 111
+ The winter sat lang, 113
+ My Johnnie, 114
+ The troops were embarked, 115
+
+JOHN HAMILTON, 117
+ The rantin' Highlandman, 118
+ Up in the mornin' early, 119
+ Go to Berwick, Johnnie, 121
+ Miss Forbes' farewell to Banff, 121
+ Tell me, Jessie, tell me why? 122
+ The hawthorn, 123
+ Oh, blaw, ye westlin' winds! 124
+
+JOANNA BAILLIE, 126
+ The maid of Llanwellyn, 132
+ Good night, good night! 133
+ Though richer swains thy love pursue, 134
+ Poverty parts good companie, 134
+ Fy, let us a' to the wedding, 136
+ Hooly and fairly, 139
+ The weary pund o' tow, 141
+ The wee pickle tow, 142
+ The gowan glitters on the sward, 143
+ Saw ye Johnnie comin'? 145
+ It fell on a morning, 146
+ Woo'd, and married, and a', 148
+
+WILLIAM DUDGEON, 151
+ Up among yon cliffy rocks, 152
+
+WILLIAM REID, 153
+ The lea rig, 154
+ John Anderson, my jo (a continuation), 155
+ Fair, modest flower, 157
+ Kate o' Gowrie, 157
+ Upon the banks o' flowing Clyde, 159
+
+ALEXANDER CAMPBELL, 161
+ Now winter's wind sweeps, 165
+ The hawk whoops on high, 166
+
+MRS DUGALD STEWART, 167
+ The tears I shed must ever fall, 168
+ Returning spring, with gladsome ray, 169
+
+ALEXANDER WILSON, 172
+ Connel and Flora, 179
+ Matilda, 179
+ Auchtertool, 182
+
+CAROLINA, BARONESS NAIRN, 184
+ The ploughman, 194
+ Caller herrin', 195
+ The land o' the leal, 196
+ The Laird o' Cockpen, 198
+ Her home she is leaving, 200
+ The bonniest lass in a' the warld, 201
+ My ain kind dearie, O! 202
+ He 's lifeless amang the rude billows, 202
+ Joy of my earliest days, 203
+ Oh, weel's me on my ain man, 204
+ Kind Robin lo'es me 205
+ Kitty Reid's house, 205
+ The robin's nest, 206
+ Saw ye nae my Peggy? 208
+ Gude nicht, and joy be wi' ye a'! 209
+ Cauld kail in Aberdeen, 210
+ He 's ower the hills that I lo'e weel, 211
+ The lass o' Gowrie, 213
+ There grows a bonnie brier bush, 215
+ John Tod, 216
+ Will ye no come back again? 218
+ Jamie the laird, 219
+ Songs of my native land, 220
+ Castell Gloom, 221
+ Bonnie Gascon Ha', 223
+ The auld house, 224
+ The hundred pipers, 226
+ The women are a' gane wud, 227
+ Jeanie Deans, 228
+ The heiress, 230
+ The mitherless lammie, 231
+ The attainted Scottish nobles, 232
+ True love is watered aye wi' tears, 233
+ Ah, little did my mother think, 234
+ Would you be young again? 235
+ Rest is not here, 236
+ Here's to them that are gane, 237
+ Farewell, O farewell! 238
+ The dead who have died in the Lord, 239
+
+JAMES NICOL, 240
+ Blaw saftly, ye breezes, 242
+ By yon hoarse murmurin' stream, 242
+ Haluckit Meg, 244
+ My dear little lassie, 246
+
+JAMES MONTGOMERY, 247
+ "Friendship, love, and truth," 253
+ The Swiss cowherd's song in a foreign land, 254
+ German war-song, 254
+ Via Crucis, via Lucis, 255
+ Verses to a robin-redbreast, 257
+ Slavery that was, 258
+
+ANDREW SCOTT, 260
+ Rural content, or the muirland farmer, 263
+ Symon and Janet, 265
+ Coquet water, 268
+ The young maid's wish for peace, 269
+ The fiddler's widow, 271
+ Lament for the death of an Irish chief, 272
+ The departure of summer, 273
+
+SIR WALTER SCOTT, BART., 275
+ It was an English ladye bright, 289
+ Lochinvar, 290
+ Where shall the lover rest, 292
+ Soldier, rest! thy warfare o'er, 294
+ Hail to the chief who in triumph advances, 295
+ The heath this night must be my bed, 297
+ The imprisoned huntsman, 298
+ He is gone on the mountain, 299
+ A weary lot is thine, fair maid, 300
+ Allen-a-Dale, 300
+ The cypress wreath, 302
+ The cavalier, 303
+ Hunting song, 304
+ Oh, say not, my love, with that mortified air, 315
+
+ * * * * *
+
+METRICAL TRANSLATIONS FROM THE MODERN GAELIC MINSTRELSY.
+
+ROBERT MACKAY (ROB DONN), 309
+ The song of winter, 311
+ Dirge for Ian Macechan, 315
+ The song of the forsaken drover, 315
+ Isabel Mackay--the maid alone, 318
+ Evan's Elegy, 321
+
+DOUGAL BUCHANAN, 322
+ A clagionn--the skull, 326
+ Am bruadar--the dream, 330
+
+DUNCAN MACINTYRE, 334
+ Mairi bhān ōg (Mary, the young, the fair-haired), 335
+ Bendourain, the Otter Mount, 336
+ The bard to his musket, 347
+
+JOHN MACODRUM, 351
+ Oran na h-aois (the song of age), 352
+
+NORMAN MACLEOD (TORMAID BAN), 355
+ Caberfae, 357
+
+ * * * * *
+
+GLOSSARY, 363
+
+
+
+
+THE
+
+MODERN SCOTTISH MINSTREL
+
+
+
+
+JOHN SKINNER.
+
+
+Among those modern Scottish poets whose lives, by extending to a
+considerably distant period, render them connecting links between the
+old and recent minstrelsy of Caledonia, the first place is due to the
+Rev. John Skinner. This ingenious and learned person was born on the 3d
+of October 1721, at Balfour, in the parish of Birse, and county of
+Aberdeen. His father, who bore the same Christian name, was parochial
+schoolmaster; but two years after his son's birth, he was presented to
+the more lucrative situation of schoolmaster of Echt, a parish about
+twelve miles distant from Aberdeen. He discharged the duties of this
+latter appointment during the long incumbency of fifty years. He was
+twice married. By his first union with Mrs Jean Gillanders, the relict
+of Donald Farquharson of Balfour, was born an only child, the subject of
+this memoir. The mother dying when the child was only two years old, the
+charge of his early training depended solely on his father, who for
+several years remained a widower. The paternal duties were adequately
+performed: the son, while a mere youth, was initiated in classical
+learning, and in his thirteenth year he became a successful competitor
+for a bursary or exhibition in Marischal College, Aberdeen. At the
+University, during the usual philosophical course of four years, he
+pursued his studies with diligence and success; and he afterwards became
+an usher in the parish schools of Kemnay and Monymusk.
+
+From early youth, young Skinner had courted the Muse of his country, and
+composed verses in the Scottish dialect. When a mere stripling, he could
+repeat, which he did with enthusiasm, the long poem by James I. of
+"Christ-kirk on the Green;" he afterwards translated it into Latin
+verse; and an imitation of the same poem, entitled "The Monymusk
+Christmas Ba'ing," descriptive of the diversions attendant on the annual
+Christmas gatherings for playing the game of foot-ball at Monymusk,
+which he composed in his sixteenth year, attracting the notice of the
+lady of Sir Archibald Grant, Bart. of Monymusk, brought him the favour
+of that influential family. Though the humble usher of a parish school,
+he was honoured with the patronage of the worthy baronet and his lady,
+became an inmate of their mansion, and had the uncontrolled use of its
+library. The residence of the poet in Monymusk House indirectly conduced
+towards his forming those ecclesiastical sentiments which exercised such
+an important influence on his subsequent career. The Episcopal clergyman
+of the district was frequently a guest at the table of Sir Archibald;
+and by the arguments and persuasive conversation of this person, Mr
+Skinner was induced to enlist his sympathies in the cause of the
+Episcopal or non-juring clergy of Scotland. They bore the latter
+appellation from their refusal, during the existence of the exiled
+family of Stewart, to take the oath of allegiance to the House of
+Hanover. In 1740, on the invitation of Mr Robert Forbes, Episcopal
+minister at Leith, afterwards a bishop, Mr Skinner, in the capacity of
+private tutor to the only son of Mr Sinclair of Scolloway, proceeded to
+Zetland, where he acquired the intimate friendship of the Rev. Mr
+Hunter, the only non-juring clergyman in that remote district. There he
+remained only one year, owing to the death of the elder Mr Sinclair, and
+the removal of his pupil to pursue his studies in a less retired
+locality. He lamented the father's death in Latin, as well as in English
+verse. He left Scolloway with the best wishes of the family; and as a
+substantial proof of the goodwill of his friend Mr Hunter, he received
+in marriage the hand of his eldest daughter.
+
+Returning to Aberdeenshire, he was ordained a presbyter of the Episcopal
+Church, by Bishop Dunbar of Peterhead; and in November 1742, on the
+unanimous invitation of the people, he was appointed to the pastoral
+charge of the congregation at Longside. Uninfluenced by the soarings of
+ambition, he seems to have fixed here, at the outset, a permanent
+habitation: he rented a cottage at Linshart in the vicinity, which,
+though consisting only of a single apartment, besides the kitchen,
+sufficed for the expenditure of his limited emoluments. In every respect
+he realised Goldsmith's description of the village pastor:--
+
+ "A man he was to all the country dear,
+ And passing rich with forty pounds a-year;
+ Remote from towns he ran his godly race,
+ Nor e'er had changed, nor wish'd to change his place."
+
+Secluded, however, as were Mr Skinner's habits, and though he never had
+interfered in the political movements of the period, he did not escape
+his share in those ruthless severities which were visited upon the
+non-juring clergy subsequent to the last Rebellion. His chapel was
+destroyed by the soldiers of the barbarous Duke of Cumberland; and, on
+the plea of his having transgressed the law by preaching to more than
+four persons without subscribing the oath of allegiance, he was, during
+six months, detained a prisoner in the jail of Aberdeen.
+
+Entering on the sacred duties of the pastoral office, Mr Skinner appears
+to have checked the indulgence of his rhyming propensities. His
+subsequent poetical productions, which include the whole of his popular
+songs, were written to please his friends, or gratify the members of his
+family, and without the most distant view to publication. In 1787, he
+writes to Burns, on the subject of Scottish song:--"While I was young, I
+dabbled a good deal in these things; but on getting the black gown, I
+gave it pretty much over, till my daughters grew up, who, being all
+tolerably good singers, plagued me for words to some of their favourite
+tunes, and so extorted those effusions which have made a public
+appearance, beyond my expectations, and contrary to my intentions; at
+the same time, I hope there is nothing to be found in them
+uncharacteristic or unbecoming the cloth, which I would always wish to
+see respected." Some of Mr Skinner's best songs were composed at a
+sitting, while they seldom underwent any revision after being committed
+to paper. To the following incident, his most popular song,
+"Tullochgorum," owed its origin. In the course of a visit he was making
+to a friend in Ellon (not Cullen, as has been stated on the authority of
+Burns), a dispute arose among the guests on the subject of Whig and Tory
+politics, which, becoming somewhat too exciting for the comfort of the
+lady of the house, in order to bring it promptly to a close, she
+requested Mr Skinner to suggest appropriate words for the favourite air,
+"The Reel of Tullochgorum." Mr Skinner readily complied, and, before
+leaving the house, produced what Burns, in a letter to the author,
+characterised as "the best Scotch song ever Scotland saw." The name of
+the lady who made the request to the poet was Mrs Montgomery, and hence
+the allusion in the first stanza of the ballad:--
+
+ "Come gie 's a sang, Montgomery cried,
+ And lay your disputes all aside;
+ What signifies 't for folks to chide
+ For what was done before them?
+ Let Whig and Tory all agree," &c.
+
+Though claiming no distinction as a writer of verses, Mr Skinner did not
+conceal his ambition to excel in another department of literature. In
+1746, in his twenty-fifth year, he published a pamphlet, in defence of
+the non-juring character of his Church, entitled "A Preservative against
+Presbytery." A performance of greater effort, published in 1757, excited
+some attention, and the unqualified commendation of the learned Bishop
+Sherlock. In this production, entitled "A Dissertation on Jacob's
+Prophecy," which was intended as a supplement to a treatise on the same
+subject by Dr Sherlock, the author has established, by a critical
+examination of the original language, that the words in Jacob's prophecy
+(Gen. xlix. 10), rendered "sceptre" and "lawgiver" in the authorised
+version, ought to be translated "tribeship" and "typifier," a difference
+of interpretation which obviates some difficulties respecting the exact
+fulfilment of this remarkable prediction. In a pamphlet printed in 1767,
+Mr Skinner again vindicated the claims and authority of his Church; and
+on this occasion, against the alleged misrepresentations of Mr Norman
+Sievewright, English clergyman at Brechin, who had published a work
+unfavourable to the cause of Scottish Episcopacy. His most important
+work, "An Ecclesiastical History of Scotland, from the first appearance
+of Christianity in that kingdom," was published in the year 1788, in two
+octavo volumes. This publication, which is arranged in the form of
+letters to a friend, and dedicated, in elegant Latin verse, "Ad Filium
+et Episcopum," (to his son, and bishop), by partaking too rigidly of a
+sectarian character, did not attain any measure of success. Mr Skinner's
+other prose works were published after his death, together with a Memoir
+of the author, under the editorial care of his son, Bishop Skinner of
+Aberdeen. These consist of theological essays, in the form of "Letters
+addressed to Candidates for Holy Orders," "A Dissertation on the
+Sheckinah, or Divine Presence with the Church or People of God," and "An
+Essay towards a literal or true radical exposition of the Song of
+Songs," the whole being included in two octavo volumes, which appeared
+in 1809. A third volume was added, containing a collection of the
+author's compositions in Latin verse, and his fugitive songs and ballads
+in the Scottish dialect--the latter portion of this volume being at the
+same time published in a more compendious form, with the title,
+"Amusements of Leisure Hours; or, Poetical Pieces, chiefly in the
+Scottish dialect."
+
+Though living in constant retirement at Linshart, the reputation of the
+Longside pastor, both as a poet and a man of classical taste, became
+widely extended, and persons distinguished in the world of letters
+sought his correspondence and friendship. With Dr Gleig, afterwards
+titular Bishop of Brechin, Dr Doig of Stirling, and John Ramsay of
+Ochtertyre, he maintained an epistolary intercourse for several years.
+Dr Gleig, who edited the _Encyclopædia Britannica_, consulted Mr Skinner
+respecting various important articles contributed to that valuable
+publication. His correspondence with Doig and Ramsay was chiefly on
+their favourite topic of philology. These two learned friends visited Mr
+Skinner in the summer of 1795, and entertained him for a week at
+Peterhead. This brief period of intellectual intercourse was regarded by
+the poet as the most entirely pleasurable of his existence; and the
+impression of it on the vivid imagination of Mr Ramsay is recorded in a
+Latin eulogy on his northern correspondent, which he subsequently
+transmitted to him. A poetical epistle addressed by Mr Skinner to Robert
+Burns, in commendation of his talents, was characterized by the Ayrshire
+Bard as "the best poetical compliment he had ever received." It led to a
+regular correspondence, which was carried on with much satisfaction to
+both parties. The letters, which chiefly relate to the preparation of
+Johnson's _Musical Museum_, then in the course of publication, have been
+included in his published correspondence. Burns never saw Mr Skinner; he
+had not informed himself as to his locality during the prosecution of
+his northern tour, and had thus the mortification of ascertaining that
+he had been in his neighbourhood, without having formed his personal
+acquaintance. To Mr Skinner's son, whom he accidentally met in Aberdeen
+on his return, he expressed a deep regret for the blunder, as "he would
+have gone twenty miles out of his way to visit the author of
+'Tullochgorum.'"
+
+As a man of ingenuity, various acquirements, and agreeable manners, Mr
+Skinner was held in much estimation among his contemporaries. Whatever
+he read, with the assistance of a commonplace-book, he accurately
+remembered, and could readily turn to account; and, though his library
+was contained in a closet of five feet square, he was abundantly well
+informed on every ordinary topic of conversation. He was fond of
+controversial discussion, and wielded both argument and wit with a power
+alarming to every antagonist. Though keen in debate, he was however
+possessed of a most imperturbable suavity of temper. His conversation
+was of a playful cast, interspersed with anecdote, and free from every
+affectation of learning. As a clergyman, Mr Skinner enjoyed the esteem
+and veneration of his flock. Besides efficiently discharging his
+ministerial duties, he practised gratuitously as a physician, having
+qualified himself, by acquiring a competent acquaintance with the
+healing art at the medical classes in Marischal College. His pulpit
+duties were widely acceptable; but his discourses, though edifying and
+instructive, were more the result of the promptitude of the preacher
+than the effects of a painstaking preparation. He abandoned the aid of
+the manuscript in the pulpit, on account of the untoward occurrence of
+his notes being scattered by a startled fowl, in the early part of his
+ministry, while he was addressing his people from the door of his house,
+after the wanton destruction of his chapel.
+
+In a scene less calculated to invite poetic inspiration no votary of the
+muse had ever resided. On every side of his lonely dwelling extended a
+wild uncultivated plain; nor for miles around did any other human
+habitation relieve the monotony of this cheerless solitude. In her
+gayest moods, Nature never wore a pleasing aspect in _Long-gate_, nor
+did the distant prospect compensate for the dreary gloominess of the
+surrounding landscape. For his poetic suggestions Mr Skinner was wholly
+dependent on the singular activity of his fancy; as he derived his chief
+happiness in his communings with an attached flock, and in the endearing
+intercourse of his family. Of his children, who were somewhat numerous
+he contrived to afford the whole, both sons and daughters, a superior
+education; and he had the satisfaction, for a long period of years, to
+address one of his sons as the bishop of his diocese.
+
+The death of Mr Skinner's wife, in the year 1799, fifty-eight years
+after their marriage, was the most severe trial which he seems to have
+experienced. In a Latin elegy, he gave expression to the deep sense
+which he entertained of his bereavement. In 1807, his son, Bishop
+Skinner, having sustained a similar bereavement, invited his aged father
+to share the comforts of his house; and after ministering at Longside
+for the remarkably lengthened incumbency of sixty-five years, Mr Skinner
+removed to Aberdeen. But a greater change was at hand; on the 16th of
+June 1807, in less than a week after his arrival, he was suddenly seized
+with illness, and almost immediately expired. His remains were interred
+in the churchyard of Longside; and the flock to which he had so long
+ministered placed over the grave a handsome monument, bearing, on a
+marble tablet, an elegant tribute to the remembrance of his virtues and
+learning. At the residence of Bishop Skinner, he had seen his
+descendants in the fourth generation.
+
+Of Mr Skinner's songs, printed in this collection, the most popular are
+"Tullochgorum," "John o' Badenyon," and "The Ewie wi' the Crookit Horn."
+The whole are pervaded by sprightliness and good-humoured pleasantry.
+Though possessing the fault of being somewhat too lengthy, no
+song-compositions of any modern writer in Scottish verse have, with the
+exception of those of Burns, maintained a stronger hold of the Scottish
+heart, or been more commonly sung in the social circle.
+
+
+
+
+TULLOCHGORUM.
+
+
+ I.
+
+ Come gie 's a sang, Montgomery cried,
+ And lay your disputes all aside,
+ What signifies 't for folks to chide
+ For what was done before them:
+ Let Whig and Tory all agree,
+ Whig and Tory, Whig and Tory,
+ Whig and Tory all agree,
+ To drop their Whig-mig-morum;
+ Let Whig and Tory all agree
+ To spend the night wi' mirth and glee,
+ And cheerful sing alang wi' me
+ The Reel o' Tullochgorum.
+
+
+ II.
+
+ O Tullochgorum 's my delight,
+ It gars us a' in ane unite,
+ And ony sumph that keeps a spite,
+ In conscience I abhor him:
+ For blythe and cheerie we'll be a',
+ Blythe and cheerie, blythe and cheerie,
+ Blythe and cheerie we'll be a',
+ And make a happy quorum;
+ For blythe and cheerie we'll be a'
+ As lang as we hae breath to draw,
+ And dance, till we be like to fa',
+ The Reel o' Tullochgorum.
+
+
+ III.
+
+ What needs there be sae great a fraise
+ Wi' dringing dull Italian lays?
+ I wadna gie our ain Strathspeys
+ For half a hunder score o' them;
+ They're dowf and dowie at the best,
+ Dowf and dowie, dowf and dowie,
+ Dowf and dowie at the best,
+ Wi' a' their variorum;
+ They're dowf and dowie at the best,
+ Their _allegros_ and a' the rest,
+ They canna' please a Scottish taste,
+ Compared wi' Tullochgorum.
+
+
+ IV.
+
+ Let warldly worms their minds oppress
+ Wi' fears o' want and double cess,
+ And sullen sots themsells distress
+ Wi' keeping up decorum:
+ Shall we sae sour and sulky sit,
+ Sour and sulky, sour and sulky,
+ Sour and sulky shall we sit,
+ Like old philosophorum?
+ Shall we sae sour and sulky sit,
+ Wi' neither sense, nor mirth, nor wit,
+ Nor ever try to shake a fit
+ To th' Reel o' Tullochgorum?
+
+
+ V.
+
+ May choicest blessings aye attend
+ Each honest, open-hearted friend,
+ And calm and quiet be his end,
+ And a' that's good watch o'er him;
+ May peace and plenty be his lot,
+ Peace and plenty, peace and plenty,
+ Peace and plenty be his lot,
+ And dainties a great store o' them:
+ May peace and plenty be his lot,
+ Unstain'd by any vicious spot,
+ And may he never want a groat,
+ That 's fond o' Tullochgorum!
+
+
+ VI.
+
+ But for the sullen, frumpish fool,
+ That loves to be oppression's tool,
+ May envy gnaw his rotten soul,
+ And discontent devour him;
+ May dool and sorrow be his chance,
+ Dool and sorrow, dool and sorrow,
+ Dool and sorrow be his chance,
+ And nane say, Wae 's me for him!
+ May dool and sorrow be his chance,
+ Wi' a' the ills that come frae France,
+ Wha e'er he be that winna dance
+ The Reel o' Tullochgorum.
+
+
+
+
+JOHN O' BADENYON
+
+
+ I.
+
+ When first I cam to be a man
+ Of twenty years or so,
+ I thought myself a handsome youth,
+ And fain the world would know;
+ In best attire I stept abroad,
+ With spirits brisk and gay,
+ And here and there and everywhere
+ Was like a morn in May;
+ No care I had, nor fear of want,
+ But rambled up and down,
+ And for a beau I might have past
+ In country or in town;
+ I still was pleased where'er I went,
+ And when I was alone,
+ I tuned my pipe and pleased myself
+ Wi' John o' Badenyon.
+
+
+ II.
+
+ Now in the days of youthful prime
+ A mistress I must find,
+ For _love_, I heard, gave one an air
+ And e'en improved the mind:
+ On Phillis fair above the rest
+ Kind fortune fix'd my eyes,
+ Her piercing beauty struck my heart,
+ And she became my choice;
+ To Cupid now, with hearty prayer,
+ I offer'd many a vow;
+ And danced and sung, and sigh'd and swore,
+ As other lovers do;
+ But, when at last I breathed my flame,
+ I found her cold as stone;
+ I left the girl, and tuned my pipe
+ To John o' Badenyon.
+
+
+ III.
+
+ When _love_ had thus my heart beguiled
+ With foolish hopes and vain;
+ To _friendship's_ port I steer'd my course,
+ And laugh'd at lovers' pain;
+ A friend I got by lucky chance,
+ 'Twas something like divine,
+ An honest friend 's a precious gift,
+ And such a gift was mine;
+ And now whatever might betide
+ A happy man was I,
+ In any strait I knew to whom
+ I freely might apply.
+ A strait soon came: my friend I try'd;
+ He heard, and spurn'd my moan;
+ I hied me home, and tuned my pipe
+ To John o' Badenyon.
+
+
+ IV.
+
+ Methought I should be wiser next,
+ And would a _patriot_ turn,
+ Began to doat on Johnny Wilkes
+ And cry up Parson Horne.[1]
+ Their manly spirit I admired,
+ And praised their noble zeal,
+ Who had with flaming tongue and pen
+ Maintain'd the public weal;
+ But e'er a month or two had pass'd,
+ I found myself betray'd,
+ 'Twas _self_ and _party_, after all,
+ For a' the stir they made;
+ At last I saw the factious knaves
+ Insult the very throne,
+ I cursed them a', and tuned my pipe
+ To John o' Badenyon.
+
+
+ V.
+
+ What next to do I mused awhile,
+ Still hoping to succeed;
+ I pitch'd on _books_ for company,
+ And gravely tried to read:
+ I bought and borrow'd everywhere,
+ And studied night and day,
+ Nor miss'd what dean or doctor wrote
+ That happen'd in my way:
+ Philosophy I now esteem'd
+ The ornament of youth,
+ And carefully through many a page
+ I hunted after truth.
+ A thousand various schemes I tried,
+ And yet was pleased with none;
+ I threw them by, and tuned my pipe
+ To John o' Badenyon.
+
+
+ VI.
+
+ And now, ye youngsters everywhere,
+ That wish to make a show,
+ Take heed in time, nor fondly hope
+ For happiness below;
+ What you may fancy pleasure here,
+ Is but an empty name,
+ And _girls_, and _friends_, and _books_, and so,
+ You 'll find them all the same.
+ Then be advised, and warning take
+ From such a man as me;
+ I 'm neither Pope nor Cardinal,
+ Nor one of high degree;
+ You 'll meet displeasure everywhere;
+ Then do as I have done,
+ E'en tune your pipe and please yourselves
+ With John o' Badenyon.
+
+
+[1] This song was composed when Wilkes, Horne, and others, were exciting
+a commotion about liberty.
+
+
+
+
+THE EWIE WI' THE CROOKIT HORN.
+
+
+ I.
+
+ Were I but able to rehearse
+ My Ewie's praise in proper verse,
+ I 'd sound it forth as loud and fierce
+ As ever piper's drone could blaw;
+ The Ewie wi' the crookit horn,
+ Wha had kent her might hae sworn
+ Sic a Ewe was never born,
+ Hereabout nor far awa';
+ Sic a Ewe was never born,
+ Hereabout nor far awa'.
+
+
+ II.
+
+ I never needed tar nor keil
+ To mark her upo' hip or heel,
+ Her crookit horn did as weel
+ To ken her by amo' them a';
+ She never threaten'd scab nor rot,
+ But keepit aye her ain jog-trot,
+ Baith to the fauld and to the cot,
+ Was never sweir to lead nor caw;
+ Baith to the fauld and to the cot, &c.
+
+
+ III.
+
+ Cauld nor hunger never dang her,
+ Wind nor wet could never wrang her,
+ Anes she lay an ouk and langer
+ Furth aneath a wreath o' snaw:
+ Whan ither ewies lap the dyke,
+ And eat the kail, for a' the tyke,
+ My Ewie never play'd the like,
+ But tyc'd about the barn wa';
+ My Ewie never play'd the like, &c.
+
+
+ IV.
+
+ A better or a thriftier beast
+ Nae honest man could weel hae wist,
+ For, silly thing, she never mist
+ To hae ilk year a lamb or twa':
+ The first she had I gae to Jock,
+ To be to him a kind o' stock,
+ And now the laddie has a flock
+ O' mair nor thirty head ava';
+ And now the laddie has a flock, &c.
+
+
+ V.
+
+ I lookit aye at even' for her,
+ Lest mishanter should come o'er her,
+ Or the fowmart might devour her,
+ Gin the beastie bade awa;
+ My Ewie wi' the crookit horn,
+ Well deserved baith girse and corn,
+ Sic a Ewe was never born,
+ Hereabout nor far awa';
+ Sic a Ewe was never born, &c.
+
+
+ VI.
+
+ Yet last ouk, for a' my keeping,
+ (Wha can speak it without _greeting_?)
+ A villain cam' when I was sleeping,
+ Sta' my Ewie, horn, and a':
+ I sought her sair upo' the morn,
+ And down aneath a buss o' thorn
+ I got my Ewie's crookit horn,
+ But my Ewie was awa';
+ I got my Ewie's crookit horn, &c.
+
+
+ VII.
+
+ O! gin I had the loon that did it,
+ Sworn I have as well as said it,
+ Though a' the warld should forbid it,
+ I wad gie his neck a thra':
+ I never met wi' sic a turn
+ As this sin' ever I was born,
+ My Ewie, wi' the crookit horn,
+ Silly Ewie, stown awa';
+ My Ewie wi' the crookit horn, &c.
+
+
+ VIII.
+
+ O! had she died o' crook or cauld,
+ As Ewies do when they grow auld,
+ It wad na been, by mony fauld,
+ Sae sair a heart to nane o's a':
+ For a' the claith that we hae worn,
+ Frae her and her's sae aften shorn,
+ The loss o' her we could hae born,
+ Had fair strae-death ta'en her awa';
+ The loss o' her we could hae born, &c.
+
+
+ IX.
+
+ But thus, poor thing, to lose her life,
+ Aneath a bleedy villain's knife,
+ I 'm really fleyt that our guidwife
+ Will never win aboon 't ava:
+ O! a' ye bards benorth Kinghorn,
+ Call your muses up and mourn,
+ Our Ewie wi' the crookit horn
+ Stown frae 's, and fell'd and a'!
+ Our Ewie wi' the crookit horn, &c.
+
+
+
+
+O! WHY SHOULD OLD AGE SO MUCH WOUND US?
+
+TUNE--_"Dumbarton Drums."_
+
+
+ I.
+
+ O! why should old age so much wound us?[2]
+ There is nothing in it all to confound us:
+ For how happy now am I,
+ With my old wife sitting by,
+ And our bairns and our oys all around us;
+ For how happy now am I, &c.
+
+
+ II.
+
+ We began in the warld wi' naething,
+ And we 've jogg'd on, and toil'd for the ae thing;
+ We made use of what we had,
+ And our thankful hearts were glad,
+ When we got the bit meat and the claithing;
+ We made use of what we had, &c.
+
+
+ III.
+
+ We have lived all our lifetime contented,
+ Since the day we became first acquainted:
+ It 's true we 've been but poor,
+ And we are so to this hour,
+ But we never yet repined or lamented;
+ It 's true we 've been but poor, &c.
+
+
+ IV.
+
+ When we had any stock, we ne'er vauntit,
+ Nor did we hing our heads when we wantit;
+ But we always gave a share
+ Of the little we could spare,
+ When it pleased a kind Heaven to grant it;
+ But we always gave a share, &c.
+
+
+ V.
+
+ We never laid a scheme to be wealthy,
+ By means that were cunning or stealthy;
+ But we always had the bliss--
+ And what further could we wiss?--
+ To be pleased with ourselves, and be healthy;
+ But we always had the bliss, &c.
+
+
+ VI.
+
+ What though we cannot boast of our guineas?
+ We have plenty of Jockies and Jeanies;
+ And these, I 'm certain, are
+ More desirable by far
+ Than a bag full of poor yellow steinies;
+ And these, I am certain, are, &c.
+
+
+ VII.
+
+ We have seen many wonder and ferly,
+ Of changes that almost are yearly,
+ Among rich folks up and down,
+ Both in country and in town,
+ Who now live but scrimply and barely;
+ Among rich folks up and down, &c.
+
+
+ VIII.
+
+ Then why should people brag of prosperity?
+ A straiten'd life we see is no rarity;
+ Indeed, we 've been in want,
+ And our living 's been but scant,
+ Yet we never were reduced to need charity;
+ Indeed, we 've been in want, &c.
+
+
+ IX.
+
+ In this house we first came together,
+ Where we 've long been a father and mither;
+ And though not of stone and lime,
+ It will last us all our time;
+ And I hope we shall ne'er need anither;
+ And though not of stone and lime, &c.
+
+
+ X.
+
+ And when we leave this poor habitation,
+ We 'll depart with a good commendation;
+ We 'll go hand in hand, I wiss,
+ To a better house than this,
+ To make room for the next generation;
+ We 'll go hand in hand, I wiss, &c.
+
+ Then why should old age so much wound us? &c.
+
+
+[2] This tune requires O to be added at the end of each of the long
+lines, but in reading the song the O is better omitted.
+
+
+
+
+STILL IN THE WRONG.
+
+
+ I.
+
+ It has long been my fate to be thought in the _wrong_,
+ And my fate it continues to be;
+ The wise and the wealthy still make it their song,
+ And the clerk and the cottar agree.
+ There is nothing I do, and there 's nothing I say,
+ But some one or other thinks wrong;
+ And to please them I find there is no other way,
+ But do nothing, and still hold my tongue.
+
+
+ II.
+
+ Says the free-thinking Sophist, "The times are refined
+ In sense to a wondrous degree;
+ Your old-fashion'd faith does but fetter the mind,
+ And it 's _wrong_ not to seek to be free."
+ Says the sage Politician, "Your natural share
+ Of talents would raise you much higher,
+ Than thus to crawl on in your present low sphere,
+ And it 's _wrong_ in you not to aspire."
+
+
+ III.
+
+ Says the Man of the World, "Your dull stoic life
+ Is surely deserving of blame?
+ You have children to care for, as well as a wife,
+ And it 's _wrong_ not to lay up for them."
+ Says the fat Gormandiser, "To eat and to drink
+ Is the true _summum bonum_ of man:
+ Life is nothing without it, whate'er you may think,
+ And it 's _wrong_ not to live while you can."
+
+
+ IV.
+
+ Says the new-made Divine, "Your old modes we reject,
+ Nor give ourselves trouble about them:
+ It is manners and dress that procure us respect,
+ And it 's _wrong_ to look for it without them."
+ Says the grave peevish Saint, in a fit of the spleen,
+ "Ah! me, but your manners are vile:
+ A parson that 's blythe is a shame to be seen,
+ And it 's _wrong_ in you even to smile."
+
+
+ V.
+
+ Says the Clown, when I tell him to do what he ought,
+ "Sir, whatever your character be,
+ To obey you in this I will never be brought,
+ And it 's _wrong_ to be meddling with me."
+ Says my Wife, when she wants this or that for the house,
+ "Our matters to ruin must go:
+ Your reading and writing is not worth a souse,
+ And it 's _wrong_ to neglect the house so."
+
+
+ VI.
+
+ Thus all judge of me by their taste or their wit,
+ And I 'm censured by old and by young,
+ Who in one point agree, though in others they split,
+ That in something I 'm still in the _wrong_.
+ But let them say on to the end of the song,
+ It shall make no impression on me:
+ If to differ from such be to be in the _wrong_,
+ In the _wrong_ I hope always to be.
+
+
+
+
+LIZZY LIBERTY.
+
+TUNE--_"Tibbie Fowler i' the Glen."_
+
+
+ I.
+
+ There lives a lassie i' the braes,
+ And Lizzy Liberty they ca' her,
+ When she has on her Sunday's claes,
+ Ye never saw a lady brawer;
+ So a' the lads are wooing at her,
+ Courting her, but canna get her;
+ Bonny Lizzy Liberty, there 's ow'r mony wooing at her!
+
+
+ II.
+
+ Her mither ware a tabbit mutch,
+ Her father was an honest dyker,
+ She 's a black-eyed wanton witch,
+ Ye winna shaw me mony like her:
+ So a' the lads are wooing at her,
+ Courting her, but canna get her;
+ Bonny Lizzy Liberty, wow, sae mony 's wooing at her!
+
+
+ III.
+
+ A kindly lass she is, I 'm seer,
+ Has fowth o' sense and smeddum in her,
+ And nae a swankie far nor near,
+ But tries wi' a' his might to win her:
+ They 're wooing at her, fain would hae her,
+ Courting her, but canna get her;
+ Bonny Lizzy Liberty, there 's ow'r mony wooing at her!
+
+
+ IV.
+
+ For kindly though she be, nae doubt,
+ She manna thole the marriage tether,
+ But likes to rove and rink about,
+ Like Highland cowt amo' the heather:
+ Yet a' the lads are wooing at her,
+ Courting her, but canna get her;
+ Bonny Lizzy Liberty, wow, sae mony 's wooing at her.
+
+
+ V.
+
+ It 's seven year, and some guid mair,
+ Syn Dutch Mynheer made courtship till her,
+ A merchant bluff and fu' o' care,
+ Wi' chuffy cheeks, and bags o' siller;
+ So Dutch Mynheer was wooing at her,
+ Courting her, but cudna get her;
+ Bonny Lizzy Liberty has ow'r mony wooing at her.
+
+
+ VI.
+
+ Neist to him came Baltic John,
+ Stept up the brae, and leukit at her,
+ Syne wear his wa', wi' heavy moan,
+ And in a month or twa forgat her:
+ Baltic John was wooing at her,
+ Courting her, but cudna get her;
+ Filthy elf, she 's nae herself, wi' sae mony wooing at her.
+
+
+ VII.
+
+ Syne after him cam' Yankie Doodle,
+ Frae hyne ayont the muckle water;
+ Though Yankie 's nae yet worth a boddle,
+ Wi' might and main he would be at her:
+ Yankie Doodle 's wooing at her,
+ Courting her, but canna get her;
+ Bonny Lizzy Liberty, wow, sae mony 's wooing at her.
+
+
+ VIII.
+
+ Now Monkey French is in a roar,
+ And swears that nane but he sall hae her,
+ Though he sud wade through bluid and gore,
+ It 's nae the king sall keep him frae her:
+ So Monkey French is wooing at her,
+ Courting her, but canna get her;
+ Bonny Lizzy Liberty has ow'r mony wooing at her.
+
+
+ IX.
+
+ For France, nor yet her Flanders' frien',
+ Need na think that she 'll come to them;
+ They 've casten aff wi' a' their kin,
+ And grace and guid have flown frae them;
+ They 're wooing at her, fain wad hae her,
+ Courting her, but canna get her;
+ Bonny Lizzy Liberty, wow, sae mony 's wooing at her.
+
+
+ X.
+
+ A stately chiel they ca' John Bull
+ Is unco thrang and glaikit wi' her;
+ And gin he cud get a' his wull,
+ There 's nane can say what he wad gi'e her:
+ Johnny Bull is wooing at her,
+ Courting her, but canna get her;
+ Filthy Ted, she 'll never wed, as lang 's sae mony 's wooing at her.
+
+
+ XI.
+
+ Even Irish Teague, ayont Belfast,
+ Wadna care to speir about her;
+ And swears, till he sall breathe his last,
+ He 'll never happy be without her:
+ Irish Teague is wooing at her,
+ Courting her, but canna get her;
+ Bonny Lizzy Liberty has ow'r mony wooing at her.
+
+
+ XII.
+
+ But Donald Scot 's the happy lad,
+ Though a' the lave sud try to rate him;
+ Whan he steps up the brae sae glad,
+ She disna ken maist whare to set him:
+ Donald Scot is wooing at her,
+ Courting her, will maybe get her;
+ Bonny Lizzy Liberty, wow, sae mony 's wooing at her.
+
+
+ XIII.
+
+ Now, Donald, tak' a frien's advice--
+ I ken fu' weel ye fain wad hae her;
+ As ye are happy, sae be wise,
+ And ha'd ye wi' a smackie frae her:
+ Ye 're wooing at her, fain wad hae her,
+ Courting her, will maybe get her;
+ Bonny Lizzy Liberty, there 's ow'r mony wooing at her.
+
+
+ XIV.
+
+ Ye 're weel, and wat'sna, lad, they 're sayin',
+ Wi' getting leave to dwall aside her;
+ And gin ye had her a' your ain,
+ Ye might na find it mows to guide her:
+ Ye 're wooing at her, fain wad hae her,
+ Courting her, will maybe get her;
+ Cunning quean, she 's ne'er be mine, as lang 's sae mony 's wooing at her.
+
+
+
+
+THE STIPENDLESS PARSON.
+
+TUNE--_"A Cobbler there was,"_ &c.
+
+
+ I.
+
+ How happy a life does the Parson possess,
+ Who would be no greater, nor fears to be less;
+ Who depends on his book and his gown for support,
+ And derives no preferment from conclave or court!
+ Derry down, &c.
+
+
+ II.
+
+ Without glebe or manse settled on him by law,
+ No stipend to sue for, nor vic'rage to draw;
+ In discharge of his office he holds him content,
+ With a croft and a garden, for which he pays rent.
+ Derry down, &c.
+
+
+ III.
+
+ With a neat little cottage and furniture plain,
+ And a spare room to welcome a friend now and then;
+ With a good-humour'd wife in his fortune to share,
+ And ease him at all times of family care.
+ Derry down, &c.
+
+
+ IV.
+
+ With a few of the Fathers, the oldest and best,
+ And some modern extracts pick'd out from the rest;
+ With a Bible in Latin, and Hebrew, and Greek,
+ To afford him instruction each day of the week.
+ Derry down, &c.
+
+
+ V.
+
+ What children he has, if any are given,
+ He thankfully trusts to the kindness of Heaven;
+ To religion and virtue he trains them while young,
+ And with such a provision he does them no wrong.
+ Derry down, &c.
+
+
+ VI.
+
+ With labour below, and with help from above,
+ He cares for his flock, and is bless'd with their love:
+ Though his living, perhaps, in the main may be scant,
+ He is sure, while they have, that he 'll ne'er be in want.
+ Derry down, &c.
+
+
+ VII.
+
+ With no worldly projects nor hurries perplex'd,
+ He sits in his closet and studies his text;
+ And while he converses with Moses or Paul,
+ He envies not bishop, nor dean in his stall.
+ Derry down, &c.
+
+
+ VIII.
+
+ Not proud to the poor, nor a slave to the great,
+ Neither factious in church, nor pragmatic in state,
+ He keeps himself quiet within his own sphere,
+ And finds work sufficient in preaching and prayer.
+ Derry down, &c.
+
+
+ IX.
+
+ In what little dealings he 's forced to transact,
+ He determines with plainness and candour to act;
+ And the great point on which his ambition is set,
+ Is to leave at the last neither riches nor debt.
+ Derry down, &c.
+
+
+ X.
+
+ Thus calmly he steps through the valley of life,
+ Unencumber'd with wealth, and a stranger to strife;
+ On the bustlings around him unmoved he can look,
+ And at home always pleased with his wife and his book.
+ Derry down, &c.
+
+
+ XI.
+
+ And when, in old age, he drops into the grave,
+ This humble remembrance he wishes to have:
+ "By good men respected, by the evil oft tried,
+ Contented he lived, and lamented he died!"
+ Derry down, &c.
+
+
+
+
+THE MAN OF ROSS.
+
+TUNE--_"Miss Ross's Reel."_
+
+
+ I.
+
+ When fops and fools together prate,
+ O'er punch or tea, of this or that,
+ What silly poor unmeaning chat
+ Does all their talk engross!
+ A nobler theme employs my lays,
+ And thus my honest voice I raise
+ In well-deserved strains to praise
+ The worthy Man of Ross.
+
+
+ II.
+
+ His lofty soul (would it were mine!)
+ Scorns every selfish, low design,
+ And ne'er was known to repine,
+ At any earthly loss:
+ But still contented, frank, and free,
+ In every state, whate'er it be,
+ Serene and staid we always see
+ The worthy Man of Ross.
+
+
+ III.
+
+ Let misers hug their worldly store,
+ And gripe and pinch to make it more;
+ Their gold and silver's shining ore
+ He counts it all but dross:
+ 'Tis better treasure he desires;
+ A surer stock his passion fires,
+ And mild benevolence inspires
+ The worthy Man of Ross.
+
+
+ IV.
+
+ When want assails the widow's cot,
+ Or sickness strikes the poor man's hut,
+ When blasting winds or foggy rot
+ Augment the farmer's loss:
+ The sufferer straight knows where to go,
+ With all his wants and all his woe;
+ For glad experience leads him to
+ The worthy Man of Ross.
+
+
+ V.
+
+ This Man of Ross I 'll daily sing,
+ With vocal note and lyric string,
+ And duly, when I 've drank the king,
+ He 'll be my second toss.
+ May Heaven its choicest blessings send
+ On such a man, and such a friend;
+ And still may all that 's good attend
+ The worthy Man of Ross.
+
+
+ VI.
+
+ Now, if you ask about his name,
+ And where he lives with such a fame,
+ Indeed, I 'll say you are to blame,
+ For truly, _inter nos_,
+ 'Tis what belongs to you and me,
+ And all of high or low degree,
+ In every sphere to try to be
+ The worthy Man of Ross.
+
+
+
+
+A SONG ON THE TIMES.
+
+TUNE--_"Broom of the Cowdenknows."_
+
+
+ I.
+
+ When I began the world first,
+ It was not as 'tis now;
+ For all was plain and simple then,
+ And friends were kind and true:
+ Oh, the times, the weary, weary times!
+ The times that I now see;
+ I think the world 's all gone wrong,
+ From what it used to be.
+
+
+ II.
+
+ There were not then high capering heads,
+ Prick'd up from ear to ear;
+ And cloaks and caps were rarities,
+ For gentle folks to wear:
+ Oh, the times, the weary, weary times! &c.
+
+
+ III.
+
+ There 's not an upstart mushroom now,
+ But what sets up for taste;
+ And not a lass in all the land,
+ But must be lady-dress'd:
+ Oh, the times, the weary, weary times! &c.
+
+
+ IV.
+
+ Our young men married then for love,
+ So did our lasses too;
+ And children loved their parents dear,
+ As children ought to do:
+ Oh, the times, the weary, weary times! &c.
+
+
+ V.
+
+ For oh, the times are sadly changed--
+ A heavy change indeed!
+ For truth and friendship are no more,
+ And honesty is fled:
+ Oh, the times, the weary, weary times! &c.
+
+
+ VI.
+
+ There 's nothing now prevails but pride,
+ Among both high and low;
+ And strife, and greed, and vanity,
+ Is all that 's minded now:
+ Oh, the times, the weary, weary times! &c.
+
+
+ VII.
+
+ When I look through the world wide,
+ How times and fashions go,
+ It draws the tears from both my eyes,
+ And fills my heart with woe:
+ Oh, the times, the weary, weary times!
+ The times that I now see;
+ I wish the world were at an end,
+ For it will not mend for me!
+
+
+
+
+WILLIAM CAMERON.
+
+
+William Cameron, minister of Kirknewton, in the county of Edinburgh, was
+educated in Marischal College, Aberdeen, where he was a pupil of Dr
+Beattie, "who ever after entertained for him much esteem." A letter,
+addressed to him by this eminent professor, in 1774, has been published
+by Sir William Forbes;[3] and his name is introduced at the beginning of
+Dr Beattie's "Letter to the Rev. Hugh Blair, D.D., on the Improvement of
+Psalmody in Scotland. 1778, 8vo:"--"The message you lately sent me, by
+my friend Mr Cameron, has determined me to give you my thoughts at some
+length upon the subject of it."
+
+He died in his manse, on the 17th of November 1811, in the 60th year of
+his age, and the 26th year of his ministry. He was a considerable writer
+of verses, and his compositions are generally of a respectable order. He
+was the author of a "Collection of Poems," printed at Edinburgh in 1790,
+in a duodecimo volume; and in 1781, along with the celebrated John Logan
+and Dr Morrison, minister of Canisbay, he contributed towards the
+formation of a collection of Paraphrases from Scripture, which, being
+approved of by the General Assembly, are still used in public worship
+in the Church of Scotland. A posthumous volume of verses by Mr Cameron,
+entitled "Poems on Several Occasions," was published by subscription in
+1813--8vo, pp. 132. The following song, which was composed by Mr
+Cameron, on the restoration of the forfeited estates by Act of
+Parliament, in 1784, is copied from Johnson's "Musical Museum." It
+affords a very favourable specimen of the author's poetical talents.
+
+
+[3] Forbes's "Life of Beattie," vol. i. p. 375.
+
+
+
+
+AS O'ER THE HIGHLAND HILLS I HIED.
+
+TUNE--_"As I came in by Auchindoun."_
+
+
+ I.
+
+ As o'er the Highland hills I hied,
+ The Camerons in array I spied;
+ Lochiel's proud standard waving wide,
+ In all its ancient glory.
+ The martial pipe loud pierced the sky,
+ The bard arose, resounding high
+ Their valour, faith, and loyalty,
+ That shine in Scottish story.
+
+ No more the trumpet calls to arms,
+ Awaking battle's fierce alarms,
+ But every hero's bosom warms
+ With songs of exultation.
+ While brave Lochiel at length regains,
+ Through toils of war, his native plains,
+ And, won by glorious wounds, attains
+ His high paternal station.
+
+ Let now the voice of joy prevail,
+ And echo wide from hill to vale;
+ Ye warlike clans, arise and hail
+ Your laurell'd chiefs returning.
+ O'er every mountain, every isle,
+ Let peace in all her lustre smile,
+ And discord ne'er her day defile
+ With sullen shades of mourning.
+
+ M'Leod, M'Donald, join the strain,
+ M'Pherson, Fraser, and M'Lean;
+ Through all your bounds let gladness reign,
+ Both prince and patriot praising;
+ Whose generous bounty richly pours
+ The streams of plenty round your shores;
+ To Scotia's hills their pride restores,
+ Her faded honours raising.
+
+ Let all the joyous banquet share,
+ Nor e'er let Gothic grandeur dare,
+ With scowling brow, to overbear,
+ A vassal's right invading.
+ Let Freedom's conscious sons disdain
+ To crowd his fawning, timid train,
+ Nor even own his haughty reign,
+ Their dignity degrading.
+
+ Ye northern chiefs, whose rage unbroke
+ Has still repell'd the tyrant's shock;
+ Who ne'er have bow'd beneath his yoke,
+ With servile base prostration;--
+ Let each now train his trusty band,
+ 'Gainst foreign foes alone to stand,
+ With undivided heart and hand,
+ For Freedom, King, and Nation.
+
+
+
+
+MRS JOHN HUNTER.
+
+
+Anne Home was born in the year 1742. She was the eldest daughter of
+Robert Home, of Greenlaw, in Berwickshire, surgeon of Burgoyne's
+Regiment of Light Horse, and afterwards physician in Savoy. By
+contracting an early marriage, in which affection overcame more
+prudential considerations, both her parents gave offence to their
+relations, who refused to render them pecuniary assistance. Her father,
+though connected with many families of rank, and himself the son of a
+landowner, was consequently obliged to depend, in the early part of his
+career, on his professional exertions for the support of his family. His
+circumstances appear subsequently to have been more favourable. In July
+1771, Miss Home became the wife of John Hunter, the distinguished
+anatomist, to whom she bore two children. She afforded evidence of her
+early poetical talent, by composing, before she had completed her
+twenty-third year, the song beginning, "Adieu! ye streams that smoothly
+glide." This appeared in the _Lark_, an Edinburgh periodical, in the
+year 1765. In 1802, she published a collection of her poems, in an
+octavo volume, which she inscribed to her son, John Banks Hunter.
+
+During the lifetime of her distinguished husband, Mrs Hunter was in the
+habit of receiving at her table, and sharing in the conversation of, the
+chief literary persons of her time. Her evening _conversazioni_ were
+frequented by many of the more learned, as well as fashionable persons
+in the metropolis. On the death of her husband, which took place in
+1793, she sought greater privacy, though she still continued to reside
+in London. By those who were admitted to her intimacy, she was not more
+respected for her superior talents and intelligence, than held in esteem
+for her unaffected simplicity of manners. She was the life of her social
+parties, sustaining the happiness of the hour by her elegant
+conversation, and encouraging the diffident by her approbation. Amiable
+in disposition, she was possessed of a beautiful countenance and a
+handsome person. She wrote verses with facility, but she sought no
+distinction as a poet, preferring to be regarded as a good housewife and
+an agreeable member of society. In her latter years, she obtained
+amusement in resuming the song-writing habits of her youth, and in
+corresponding with her more intimate friends. She likewise derived
+pleasure in the cultivation of music: she played with skill, and sung
+with singular grace.
+
+Mrs Hunter died at London, on the 7th January 1821, after a lingering
+illness. Several of her lyrics had for some years appeared in the
+collections of national poetry. Those selected for the present work have
+long maintained a wide popularity. The songs evince a delicacy of
+thought, combined with a force and sweetness of expression.
+
+
+
+
+THE INDIAN DEATH-SONG.
+
+
+ The sun sets in night, and the stars shun the day,
+ But glory remains when their lights fade away.
+ Begin, ye tormentors, your threats are in vain,
+ For the son of Alknomook will never complain.
+
+ Remember the arrows he shot from his bow;
+ Remember your chiefs by his hatchet laid low.
+ Why so slow? Do you wait till I shrink from the pain?
+ No! the son of Alknomook shall never complain.
+
+ Remember the wood where in ambush we lay,
+ And the scalps which we bore from your nation away:
+ Now the flame rises fast; ye exult in my pain;
+ But the son of Alknomook can never complain.
+
+ I go to the land where my father is gone;
+ His ghost shall rejoice in the fame of his son.
+ Death comes, like a friend, to relieve me from pain,
+ And thy son, O Alknomook! has scorn'd to complain.
+
+
+
+
+MY MOTHER BIDS ME BIND MY HAIR.
+
+
+ My mother bids me bind my hair
+ With bands of rosy hue,
+ Tie up my sleeves with ribbons rare,
+ And lace my boddice blue.
+
+ "For why," she cries, "sit still and weep,
+ While others dance and play?"
+ Alas! I scarce can go or creep,
+ While Lubin is away.
+
+ 'Tis sad to think the days are gone,
+ When those we love were near;
+ I sit upon this mossy stone,
+ And sigh when none can hear.
+
+ And while I spin my flaxen thread,
+ And sing my simple lay,
+ The village seems asleep or dead,
+ Now Lubin is away.
+
+
+
+
+THE FLOWERS OF THE FOREST.[4]
+
+
+ Adieu! ye streams that smoothly glide,
+ Through mazy windings o'er the plain;
+ I 'll in some lonely cave reside,
+ And ever mourn my faithful swain.
+
+ Flower of the forest was my love,
+ Soft as the sighing summer's gale,
+ Gentle and constant as the dove,
+ Blooming as roses in the vale.
+
+ Alas! by Tweed my love did stray,
+ For me he search'd the banks around;
+ But, ah! the sad and fatal day,
+ My love, the pride of swains, was drown'd.
+
+ Now droops the willow o'er the stream;
+ Pale stalks his ghost in yonder grove;
+ Dire fancy paints him in my dream;
+ Awake, I mourn my hopeless love.
+
+
+[4] Of the "Flowers of the Forest," two other versions appear in the
+Collections. That version beginning, "I've heard the lilting at our
+yow-milking," is the composition of Miss Jane Elliot, the daughter of
+Sir Gilbert Elliot of Minto, Lord Justice-Clerk, who died in 1766. She
+composed the song about the middle of the century, in imitation of an
+old version to the same tune. The other version, which is the most
+popular of the three, with the opening line, "I 've seen the smiling of
+fortune beguiling," was also the composition of a lady, Miss Alison
+Rutherford; by marriage, Mrs Cockburn, wife of Mr Patrick Cockburn,
+advocate. Mrs Cockburn was a person of highly superior accomplishments.
+She associated with her learned contemporaries, by whom she was much
+esteemed, and died at Edinburgh in 1794, at an advanced age. "The
+forest" mentioned in the song comprehended the county of Selkirk, with
+portions of Peeblesshire and Lanarkshire. This was a hunting-forest of
+the Scottish kings.
+
+
+
+
+THE SEASON COMES WHEN FIRST WE MET.
+
+
+ The season comes when first we met,
+ But you return no more;
+ Why cannot I the days forget,
+ Which time can ne'er restore?
+ O! days too sweet, too bright to last,
+ Are you, indeed, for ever past?
+
+ The fleeting shadows of delight,
+ In memory I trace;
+ In fancy stop their rapid flight,
+ And all the past replace;
+ But, ah! I wake to endless woes,
+ And tears the fading visions close!
+
+
+
+
+OH, TUNEFUL VOICE! I STILL DEPLORE.
+
+
+ Oh, tuneful voice! I still deplore
+ Those accents which, though heard no more,
+ Still vibrate in my heart;
+ In echo's cave I long to dwell,
+ And still would hear the sad farewell,
+ When we were doom'd to part.
+
+ Bright eyes! O that the task were mine,
+ To guard the liquid fires that shine,
+ And round your orbits play--
+ To watch them with a vestal's care,
+ And feed with smiles a light so fair,
+ That it may ne'er decay!
+
+
+
+
+DEAR TO MY HEART AS LIFE'S WARM STREAM.[5]
+
+
+ Dear to my heart as life's warm stream,
+ Which animates this mortal clay;
+ For thee I court the waking dream,
+ And deck with smiles the future day;
+ And thus beguile the present pain,
+ With hopes that we shall meet again!
+
+ Yet will it be as when the past
+ Twined every joy, and care, and thought,
+ And o'er our minds one mantle cast,
+ Of kind affections finely wrought.
+ Ah, no! the groundless hope were vain,
+ For so we ne'er can meet again!
+
+ May he who claims thy tender heart,
+ Deserve its love as I have done!
+ For, kind and gentle as thou art,
+ If so beloved, thou 'rt fairly won.
+ Bright may the sacred torch remain,
+ And cheer thee till we meet again!
+
+
+[5] These lines were addressed by Mrs Hunter to her daughter, on the
+occasion of her marriage.
+
+
+
+
+THE LOT OF THOUSANDS.
+
+
+ When hope lies dead within the heart,
+ By secret sorrow close conceal'd,
+ We shrink lest looks or words impart
+ What must not be reveal'd.
+
+ 'Tis hard to smile when one would weep,
+ To speak when one would silent be;
+ To wake when one should wish to sleep,
+ And wake to agony.
+
+ Yet such the lot by thousands cast,
+ Who wander in this world of care,
+ And bend beneath the bitter blast,
+ To save them from despair.
+
+ But Nature waits her guests to greet,
+ Where disappointments cannot come,
+ And Time guides, with unerring feet,
+ The weary wanderers home.
+
+
+
+
+ALEXANDER, DUKE OF GORDON.
+
+
+Alexander, the fourth Duke of Gordon, was born in the year 1743, and
+died on the 17th of January 1827, in the eighty-fourth year of his age.
+Chiefly remembered as a kind patron of the poet Burns, his name is
+likewise entitled to a place in the national minstrelsy as the author of
+an excellent version of the often-parodied song, "Cauld Kail in
+Aberdeen." Of this song, the first words, written to an older tune,
+appeared in the second volume of Herd's "Collection," in 1776. These
+begin--
+
+ "Cauld kail in Aberdeen,
+ And castocks in Strabogie;
+ But yet I fear they 'll cook o'er soon,
+ And never warm the cogie."
+
+The song is anonymous, as is the version, first published in Dale's
+"Scottish Songs," beginning--
+
+ "There 's cauld kail in Aberdeen,
+ And castocks in Strabogie,
+ Where ilka lad maun hae his lass,
+ But I maun hae my cogie."
+
+A third version, distinct from that inserted in the text, was composed
+by William Reid, a bookseller in Glasgow, who died in 1831. His song is
+scarcely known. The Duke's song, with which Burns expressed himself as
+being "charmed," was first published in the second volume of Johnson's
+"Musical Museum." It is not only gay and animating, but has the merit of
+being free of blemishes in want of refinement, which affect the others.
+The "Bogie" celebrated in the song, it may be remarked, is a river in
+Aberdeenshire, which, rising in the parish of Auchindoir, discharges its
+waters into the Deveron, a little distance below the town of Huntly. It
+gives its name to the extensive and rich valley of Strathbogie, through
+which it proceeds.
+
+
+
+
+CAULD KAIL IN ABERDEEN.
+
+
+ There 's cauld kail in Aberdeen,
+ And castocks in Strabogie;
+ Gin I hae but a bonnie lass,
+ Ye 're welcome to your cogie.
+ And ye may sit up a' the night,
+ And drink till it be braid daylight;
+ Gi'e me a lass baith clean and tight,
+ To dance the reel o' Bogie.
+
+ In cotillions the French excel,
+ John Bull loves country dances;
+ The Spaniards dance fandangoes well;
+ Mynheer an all'mande prances;
+ In foursome reels the Scots delight,
+ At threesomes they dance wondrous light,
+ But twasomes ding a' out o' sight,
+ Danced to the reel o' Bogie.
+
+ Come, lads, and view your partners weel,
+ Wale each a blythesome rogie;
+ I'll tak this lassie to mysel',
+ She looks sae keen and vogie.
+ Now, piper lads, bang up the spring,
+ The country fashion is the thing,
+ To pree their mou's ere we begin
+ To dance the reel o' Bogie.
+
+ Now ilka lad has got a lass,
+ Save yon auld doited fogie,
+ And ta'en a fling upon the grass,
+ As they do in Strabogie.
+ But a' the lasses look sae fain,
+ We canna think oursel's to hain,
+ For they maun hae their come again,
+ To dance the reel o' Bogie.
+
+ Now a' the lads hae done their best,
+ Like true men o' Strabogie,
+ We 'll stop a while and tak' a rest,
+ And tipple out a cogie.
+ Come now, my lads, and tak your glass,
+ And try ilk ither to surpass,
+ In wishing health to every lass,
+ To dance the reel o' Bogie.
+
+
+
+
+MRS GRANT OF CARRON.
+
+
+Mrs Grant of Carron, the reputed author of one song, which has long
+maintained a favoured place, was a native of Aberlour, on the banks of
+the Spey, in the county of Banff. She was born about the year 1745, and
+was twice married--first, to her cousin, Mr Grant of Carron, near
+Elchies, on the river Spey, about the year 1763; and, secondly, to Dr
+Murray, a physician in Bath. She died at Bath about the year 1814.
+
+In his correspondence with George Thomson, Burns, alluding to the song
+of Mrs Grant, "Roy's Wife," remarks that he had in his possession "the
+original words of a song for the air in the handwriting of the lady who
+composed it," which, he adds, "are superior to any edition of the song
+which the public has seen." He subsequently composed an additional
+version himself, beginning, "Canst thou leave me thus, my Katie?" but
+this, like others of the bard's conversions of Scottish songs into an
+English dress, did not become popular. The verses by his female friend,
+in which the lady is made to be the sufferer by misplaced affection, and
+commencing, "Stay, my Willie, yet believe me," though published, remain
+likewise in obscurity. "Roy's Wife" was originally written to an old
+tune called the "Ruffian's Rant," but this melody is now known by the
+name of its favourite words. The sentiment of the song is peculiarly
+pleasing. The rejected lover begins by loudly complaining of his wrongs,
+and the broken assurances of his former sweetheart: then he suddenly
+recalls what were her good qualities; and the recollection of these
+causes him to forgive her marrying another, and even still to extend
+towards her his warmest sympathies.
+
+
+
+
+ROY'S WIFE OF ALDIVALLOCH.
+
+
+ Roy's wife of Aldivalloch,
+ Roy's wife of Aldivalloch,
+ Wat ye how she cheated me
+ As I cam' o'er the braes of Balloch!
+
+ She vow'd, she swore she wad be mine,
+ She said she lo'ed me best o' onie;
+ But, ah! the fickle, faithless quean,
+ She 's ta'en the carl, and left her Johnnie!
+ Roy's wife, &c.
+
+ Oh, she was a canty quean,
+ An' weel could dance the Hieland walloch!
+ How happy I, had she been mine,
+ Or I been Roy of Aldivalloch!
+ Roy's wife, &c.
+
+ Her hair sae fair, her e'en sae clear,
+ Her wee bit mou' sae sweet and bonnie!
+ To me she ever will be dear,
+ Though she's for ever left her Johnnie!
+ Roy's wife, &c.
+
+
+
+
+ROBERT COUPER, M.D.
+
+
+Dr Couper was born in the parish of Sorbie, in Wigtonshire, on the 22d
+of September 1750. His father rented the farm of Balsier in that parish.
+With a view towards the ministry in the Scottish Church, he proceeded to
+the University of Glasgow in 1769; but being deprived of both his
+parents by death before the completion of the ordinary period of
+academical study, and his pecuniary means being limited, he quitted the
+country for America, where he became tutor to a family in Virginia. He
+now contemplated taking orders in the Episcopal Church, but on the
+outbreak of the War of Independence in 1776 he returned to Britain
+without fulfilling this intention. He resumed his studies at Glasgow
+preparatory to his seeking a surgeon's diploma; and he afterwards
+established himself as a medical practitioner in Newton-Stewart, a
+considerable village in his native county. From this place he removed to
+Fochabers, about the year 1788, on being recommended, by his friend Dr
+Hamilton, Professor of Anatomy at Glasgow, as physician to the Duke of
+Gordon. Before entering on this new sphere of practice, he took the
+degree of M.D. At Fochabers he remained till the year 1806, when he
+again returned to the south. He died at Wigton on the 18th January
+1818. From a MS. Life of Dr Couper, in the possession of a gentleman in
+Wigton, and communicated to Dr Murray, author of "The Literary History
+of Galloway," these leading events of Dr Couper's life were first
+published by Mr Laing, in his "Additional Illustrations to the Scots
+Musical Museum," vol. iv. p. 513.
+
+Dr Couper published "Poetry, chiefly in the Scottish Language"
+(Inverness, 1804), 2 vols. 12mo. Among some rubbish, and much tawdry
+versification, there is occasional power, which, however, is
+insufficient to compensate for the general inferiority. There are only a
+few songs, but these are superior to the poems; and those following are
+not unworthy of a place among the modern national minstrelsy.
+
+
+
+
+KINRARA.
+
+TUNE--_"Neil Gow."_
+
+
+ Red gleams the sun on yon hill-tap,
+ The dew sits on the gowan;
+ Deep murmurs through her glens the Spey,
+ Around Kinrara rowan.
+ Where art thou, fairest, kindest lass?
+ Alas! wert thou but near me,
+ Thy gentle soul, thy melting eye,
+ Would ever, ever cheer me.
+
+ The lav'rock sings among the clouds,
+ The lambs they sport so cheerie,
+ And I sit weeping by the birk:
+ O where art thou, my dearie?
+ Aft may I meet the morning dew,
+ Lang greet till I be weary;
+ Thou canna, winna, gentle maid!
+ Thou canna be my dearie.
+
+
+
+
+THE SHEELING.
+
+TUNE--_"The Mucking o' Geordie's Byre."_
+
+
+ Oh, grand bounds the deer o'er the mountain,
+ And smooth skims the hare o'er the plain;
+ At noon, the cool shade by the fountain
+ Is sweet to the lass and her swain.
+ The ev'ning sits down dark and dreary;
+ Oh, yon 's the loud joys of the ha';
+ The laird sings his dogs and his dearie--
+ Oh, he kens na his singin' ava.
+
+ But oh, my dear lassie, when wi' thee,
+ What 's the deer and the maukin to me?
+ The storm soughin' wild drives me to thee,
+ And the plaid shelters baith me and thee.
+ The wild warld then may be reeling,
+ Pride and riches may lift up their e'e;
+ My plaid haps us baith in the sheeling--
+ That 's a' to my lassie and me.
+
+
+
+
+THE EWE-BUGHTS, MARION.[6]
+
+
+ Oh, mind ye the ewe-bughts, my Marion?
+ It was ther I forgather'd wi' thee;
+ The sun smiled sweet ower the mountain,
+ And saft sough'd the leaf on the tree.
+
+ Thou wast fair, thou wast bonnie, my Marion,
+ And lovesome thy rising breast-bane;
+ The dew sat in gems ower thy ringlets,
+ By the thorn when we were alane.
+
+ There we loved, there thou promised, my Marion,
+ Thy soul--a' thy beauties were mine;
+ Crouse we skipt to the ha' i' the gloamin',
+ But few were my slumbers and thine.
+
+ Fell war tore me lang frae thee, Marion,
+ Lang wat'ry and red was my e'e;
+ The pride o' the field but inflamed me
+ To return mair worthy o' thee.
+
+ Oh, aye art thou lovely, my Marion,
+ Thy heart bounds in kindness to me;
+ And here, oh, here is my bosom,
+ That languish'd, my Marion, for thee.
+
+
+[6] These verses form a modernised version of the old and popular song,
+"Will ye gae to the ewe-bughts, Marion?" The air is extremely beautiful.
+
+
+
+
+LADY ANNE BARNARD.
+
+
+Lady Anne Lindsay was the eldest of a family of eight sons and three
+daughters, born to James, Earl of Balcarres, by his spouse, Anne
+Dalrymple, a daughter of Sir Robert Dalrymple, of Castleton, Bart. She
+was born at Balcarres, in Fife, on the 8th of December 1750. Inheriting
+a large portion of the shrewdness long possessed by the old family of
+Lindsay, and a share of talent from her mother, who was a person of
+singular energy, though somewhat capricious in temper, Lady Anne
+evinced, at an early age, an uncommon amount of sagacity. Fortunate in
+having her talents well directed, and naturally inclined towards the
+acquisition of learning, she soon began to devote herself to useful
+reading, and even to literary composition. The highly popular ballad of
+"Auld Robin Gray" was written when she had only attained her
+twenty-first year. According to her own narrative, communicated to Sir
+Walter Scott, she had experienced loneliness on the marriage of her
+younger sister, who accompanied her husband to London, and had sought
+relief from a state of solitude by attempting the composition of song.
+An old Scottish melody,[7] sung by an eccentric female, an attendant on
+Lady Balcarres, was connected with words unsuitable to the plaintive
+nature of the air; and, with the design of supplying the defect, she
+formed the idea of writing "Auld Robin Gray." The hero of the ballad was
+the old herdsman at Balcarres. To the members of her own family Lady
+Anne only communicated her new ballad--scrupulously concealing the fact
+of her authorship from others, "perceiving the shyness it created in
+those who could write nothing."
+
+While still in the bloom of youth, the Earl of Balcarres died, and the
+Dowager Countess having taken up her residence in Edinburgh, Lady Anne
+experienced increased means of acquainting herself with the world of
+letters. At her mother's residence she met many of the literary persons
+of consideration in the northern metropolis, including such men as Lord
+Monboddo, David Hume, and Henry Mackenzie. To comfort her sister, Lady
+Margaret Fordyce, who was now a widow, she subsequently removed to
+London, where she formed the acquaintance of the principal personages
+then occupying the literary and political arena, such as Burke,
+Sheridan, Dundas, and Windham. She also became known to the Prince of
+Wales, who continued to entertain for her the highest respect. In 1793,
+she married Andrew Barnard, Esq., son of the Bishop of Limerick, and
+afterwards secretary, under Lord Macartney, to the colony at the Cape of
+Good Hope. She accompanied her husband to the Cape, and had meditated a
+voyage to New South Wales, that she might minister, by her benevolent
+counsels, towards the reformation of the convicts there exiled. On the
+death of her husband in 1807, she again resided with her widowed sister,
+the Lady Margaret, till the year 1812, when, on the marriage of her
+sister to Sir James Burges, she occupied a house of her own, and
+continued to reside in Berkeley Square till the period of her death,
+which took place on the 6th of May 1825.
+
+To entire rectitude of principle, amiability of manners, and kindliness
+of heart, Anne Barnard added the more substantial, and, in females, the
+more uncommon quality of eminent devotedness to intellectual labour.
+Literature had been her favourite pursuit from childhood, and even in
+advanced life, when her residence was the constant resort of her
+numerous relatives, she contrived to find leisure for occasional
+literary _réunions_, while her forenoons were universally occupied in
+mental improvement. She maintained a correspondence with several of her
+brilliant contemporaries, and, in her more advanced years, composed an
+interesting narrative of family Memoirs. She was skilled in the use of
+the pencil, and sketched scenery with effect. In conversation she was
+acknowledged to excel; and her stories[8] and anecdotes were a source of
+delight to her friends. She was devotedly pious, and singularly
+benevolent: she was liberal in sentiment, charitable to the indigent,
+and sparing of the feelings of others. Every circle was charmed by her
+presence; by her condescension she inspired the diffident; and she
+banished dulness by the brilliancy of her humour. Her countenance, it
+should be added, wore a pleasant and animated expression, and her
+figure was modelled with the utmost elegance of symmetry and grace. Her
+sister, Lady Margaret Fordyce, was eminently beautiful.
+
+The popularity obtained by the ballad of "Auld Robin Gray" has seldom
+been exceeded in the history of any other metrical composition. It was
+sung in every fashionable circle, as well as by the ballad-singers, from
+Land's-end to John o' Groat's; was printed in every collection of
+national songs, and drew tears from our military countrymen both in
+America and India. With the exception of Pinkerton, every writer on
+Scottish poetry and song has awarded it a tribute of commendation. "The
+elegant and accomplished authoress," says Ritson, "has, in this
+beautiful production, to all that tenderness and simplicity for which
+the Scottish song has been so much celebrated, united a delicacy of
+expression which it never before attained." "'Auld Robin Gray,'" says
+Sir Walter Scott, "is that real pastoral which is worth all the
+dialogues which Corydon and Phillis have had together, from the days of
+Theocritus downwards."
+
+During a long lifetime, till within two years of her death, Lady Anne
+Barnard resisted every temptation to declare herself the author of the
+popular ballad, thus evincing her determination not to have the secret
+wrested from her till she chose to divulge it. Some of those inducements
+may be enumerated. The extreme popularity of the ballad might have
+proved sufficient in itself to justify the disclosure; but, apart from
+this consideration, a very fine tune had been put to it by a doctor of
+music;[9] a romance had been founded upon it by a man of eminence; it
+was made the subject of a play, of an opera, and of a pantomime; it had
+been claimed by others; a sequel had been written to it by some
+scribbler, who professed to have composed the whole ballad; it had been
+assigned an antiquity far beyond the author's time; the Society of
+Antiquaries had made it the subject of investigation; and the author had
+been advertised for in the public prints, a reward being offered for the
+discovery. Never before had such general interest been exhibited
+respecting any composition in Scottish verse.
+
+In the "Pirate," published in 1823, the author of "Waverley" had
+compared the condition of Minna to that of Jeanie Gray, in the words of
+Lady Anne, in a sequel which she had published to the original ballad:--
+
+ "Nae langer she wept, her tears were a' spent;
+ Despair it was come, and she thought it content;
+ She thought it content, but her cheek it grew pale,
+ And she droop'd like a snowdrop broke down by the hail!"
+
+At length, in her seventy-third year, and upwards of half a century
+after the period of its composition, the author voluntarily made avowal
+of the authorship of the ballad and its sequel. She wrote to Sir Walter
+Scott, with whom she was acquainted, requesting him to inform his
+_personal friend_, the author of "Waverley," that she was indeed the
+author. She enclosed a copy to Sir Walter, written in her own hand; and,
+with her consent, in the course of the following year, he printed "Auld
+Robin Gray" as a contribution to the Bannatyne Club.
+
+The second part has not acquired such decided popularity, and it has not
+often been published with it in former Collections. Of the fact of its
+inequality, the accomplished author was fully aware: she wrote it
+simply to gratify the desire of her venerable mother, who often wished
+to know how "the unlucky business of Jeanie and Jamie ended." The
+Countess, it may be remarked, was much gratified by the popularity of
+the ballad; and though she seems, out of respect to her daughter's
+feelings, to have retained the secret, she could not resist the frequent
+repetition of it to her friends.
+
+In the character of Lady Anne Barnard, the defective point was a certain
+want of decision, which not only led to her declining many distinguished
+and advantageous offers for her hand, but tended, in some measure, to
+deprive her of posthumous fame. Illustrative of the latter fact, it has
+been recorded that, having entrusted to Sir Walter Scott a volume of
+lyrics, composed by herself and by others of the noble house of Lindsay,
+with permission to give it to the world, she withdrew her consent after
+the compositions had been printed in a quarto volume, and were just on
+the eve of being published. The copies of the work, which was entitled
+"Lays of the Lindsays," appear to have been destroyed. One lyric only
+has been recovered, beginning, "Why tarries my love?" It is printed as
+the composition of Lady Anne Barnard, in a note appended to the latest
+edition of Johnson's "Musical Museum," by Mr C. K. Sharpe, who
+transcribed it from the _Scots Magazine_ for May 1805. The popular song,
+"Logie o' Buchan," sometimes attributed to Lady Anne in the Collections,
+did not proceed from her pen, but was composed by George Halket,
+parochial schoolmaster of Rathen, in Aberdeenshire, about the middle of
+the last century.
+
+
+[7] The name of this old melody is, "The Bridegroom greets when the Sun
+gangs down."--See Stenhouse's Notes to Johnson's "Musical Museum," vol.
+iv. p. 280; the "Lives of the Lindsays," by Lord Lindsay, vol. ii., pp.
+314, 332, 392. Lond. 1849, 3 vols., 8vo.
+
+[8] "She was entertaining a large party of distinguished guests at
+dinner, when a hitch occurred in the kitchen. The old servant came up
+behind her and whispered, 'My lady, you must tell another story--the
+second course won't be ready for five minutes!'"--Letter of General
+Lindsay to Lord Lindsay, "Lives of the Lindsays," vol. ii. p. 387.
+
+[9] The Rev. William Leeves, of Wrington, to whose tune the ballad is
+now sung.--See an account of Mr Leeves' claims to the authorship of the
+tune, &c., in Johnson's "Musical Museum;" Stenhouse's Notes, vol. iv. p.
+231.
+
+
+
+
+AULD ROBIN GRAY.
+
+PART I.
+
+
+ When the sheep are in the fauld, and the kye 's come hame,
+ And a' the warld to rest are gane,
+ The waes o' my heart fa' in showers frae my e'e,
+ Unkent by my gudeman, wha sleeps sound by me.
+
+ Young Jamie lo'ed me weel, and he sought me for his bride,
+ But saving a crown-piece, he had naething beside;
+ To make the crown a pound, my Jamie gaed to sea,
+ And the crown and the pound they were baith for me.
+
+ He hadna been gane a twelvemonth and a day,
+ When my father brake his arm, and the cow was stown away;
+ My mither she fell sick--my Jamie at the sea;
+ And auld Robin Gray came a-courting me.
+
+ My father couldna wark, and my mither couldna spin;
+ I toil'd day and night, but their bread I couldna win;--
+ Auld Rob maintain'd them baith, and, wi' tears in his e'e,
+ Said, "Jeanie, oh, for their sakes, will ye no marry me?"
+
+ My heart it said na, and I look'd for Jamie back;
+ But hard blew the winds, and his ship was a wrack;
+ The ship was a wrack--why didna Jamie dee?
+ Or why am I spared to cry, Wae is me?
+
+ My father urged me sair--my mither didna speak;
+ But she look'd in my face till my heart was like to break;
+ They gied him my hand--my heart was in the sea--
+ And so Robin Gray he was gudeman to me.
+
+ I hadna been his wife a week but only four,
+ When, mournfu' as I sat on the stane at my door,
+ I saw my Jamie's ghaist, for I couldna think it he,
+ Till he said, "I'm come hame, love, to marry thee."
+
+ Oh, sair, sair did we greet, and mickle say of a';
+ I gied him a kiss, and bade him gang awa';--
+ I wish that I were dead, but I'm nae like to dee;
+ For though my heart is broken, I'm but young, wae is me!
+
+ I gang like a ghaist, and carena much to spin;
+ I darena think o' Jamie, for that wad be a sin;
+ But I'll do my best a gude wife to be,
+ For oh, Robin Gray, he is kind to me!
+
+
+PART II.
+
+ The spring had pass'd over, 'twas summer nae mair,
+ And, trembling, were scatter'd the leaves in the air;
+ "Oh, winter," cried Jeanie, "we kindly agree,
+ For wae looks the sun when he shines upon me."
+
+ Nae langer she wept, her tears were a' spent;
+ Despair it was come, and she thought it content;
+ She thought it content, but her cheek was grown pale,
+ And she droop'd like a snow-drop broke down by the hail.
+
+ Her father was sad, and her mother was wae,
+ But silent and thoughtfu' was auld Robin Gray;
+ He wander'd his lane, and his face was as lean
+ As the side of a brae where the torrents have been.
+
+ He gaed to his bed, but nae physic would take,
+ And often he said, "It is best, for her sake!"
+ While Jeanie supported his head as he lay,
+ The tears trickled down upon auld Robin Gray.
+
+ "Oh, greet nae mair, Jeanie!" said he, wi' a groan;
+ "I 'm nae worth your sorrow--the truth maun be known;
+ Send round for your neighbours--my hour it draws near,
+ And I 've that to tell that it 's fit a' should hear.
+
+ "I 've wrang'd her," he said, "but I kent it o'er late;
+ I 've wrang'd her, and sorrow is speeding my date;
+ But a 's for the best, since my death will soon free
+ A faithfu' young heart, that was ill match'd wi' me.
+
+ "I lo'ed and I courted her mony a day,
+ The auld folks were for me, but still she said nay;
+ I kentna o' Jamie, nor yet o' her vow;--
+ In mercy forgi'e me, 'twas I stole the cow!
+
+ "I cared not for crummie, I thought but o' thee;
+ I thought it was crummie stood 'twixt you and me;
+ While she fed your parents, oh! did you not say,
+ You never would marry wi' auld Robin Gray?
+
+ "But sickness at hame, and want at the door--
+ You gi'ed me your hand, while your heart it was sore;
+ I saw it was sore, why took I her hand?
+ Oh, that was a deed to my shame o'er the land!
+
+ "How truth, soon or late, comes to open daylight!
+ For Jamie cam' back, and your cheek it grew white;
+ White, white grew your cheek, but aye true unto me.
+ Oh, Jeanie, I 'm thankfu'--I 'm thankfu' to dee!
+
+ "Is Jamie come here yet?" and Jamie he saw;
+ "I 've injured you sair, lad, so I leave you my a';
+ Be kind to my Jeanie, and soon may it be!
+ Waste no time, my dauties, in mournin' for me."
+
+ They kiss'd his cauld hands, and a smile o'er his face
+ Seem'd hopefu' of being accepted by grace;
+ "Oh, doubtna," said Jamie, "forgi'en he will be,
+ Wha wadna be tempted, my love, to win thee?"
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ The first days were dowie, while time slipt awa';
+ But saddest and sairest to Jeanie of a'
+ Was thinking she couldna be honest and right,
+ Wi' tears in her e'e, while her heart was sae light.
+
+ But nae guile had she, and her sorrow away,
+ The wife of her Jamie, the tear couldna stay;
+ A bonnie wee bairn--the auld folks by the fire--
+ Oh, now she has a' that her heart can desire!
+
+In an earlier continuation of the original ballad, there are some good
+stanzas, which, however, the author had thought proper to expunge from
+the piece in its altered and extended form. One verse, descriptive of
+Robin Gray's feelings, on observing the concealed and withering grief of
+his spouse, is beautiful for its simplicity:--
+
+ "Nae questions he spier'd her concerning her health,
+ He look'd at her often, but aye 'twas by stealth;
+ When his heart it grew grit, and, sighin', he feign'd
+ To gang to the door to see if it rain'd."
+
+
+
+
+SONG.
+
+
+ Why tarries my love?
+ Ah! where does he rove?
+ My love is long absent from me.
+ Come hither, my dove,
+ I 'll write to my love,
+ And send him a letter by thee.
+
+ To find him, swift fly!
+ The letter I 'll tie
+ Secure to thy leg with a string.
+ Ah! not to my leg,
+ Fair lady, I beg,
+ But fasten it under my wing.
+
+ Her dove she did deck,
+ She drew o'er his neck
+ A bell and a collar so gay;
+ She tied to his wing
+ The scroll with a string,
+ Then kiss'd him and sent him away.
+
+ It blew and it rain'd,
+ The pigeon disdain'd
+ To seek shelter; undaunted he flew,
+ Till wet was his wing,
+ And painful his string,
+ So heavy the letter it grew.
+
+ It flew all around,
+ Till Colin he found,
+ Then perch'd on his head with the prize;
+ Whose heart, while he reads,
+ With tenderness bleeds,
+ For the pigeon that flutters and dies.
+
+
+
+
+JOHN TAIT.
+
+
+John Tait was, in early life, devoted to the composition of poetry. In
+Ruddiman's _Edinburgh Weekly Magazine_ for 1770, he repeatedly published
+verses in the Poet's Corner, with his initials attached, and in
+subsequent years he published anonymously the "Cave of Morar," "Poetical
+Legends," and other poems. "The Vanity of Human Wishes, an Elegy,
+occasioned by the Untimely Death of a Scots Poet," appears under the
+signature of J. Tait, in "Poems on Various Subjects by Robert Fergusson,
+Part II.," Edinburgh, 1779, 12mo. He was admitted as a Writer to the
+Signet on the 21st of November 1781; and in July 1805 was appointed
+Judge of Police, on a new police system being introduced into Edinburgh.
+In the latter capacity he continued to officiate till July 1812, when a
+new Act of Parliament entrusted the settlement of police cases, as
+formerly, to the magistrates of the city. Mr Tait died at his house in
+Abercromby Place, on the 29th of August 1817.
+
+"The Banks of the Dee," the only popular production from the pen of the
+author, was composed in the year 1775, on the occasion of a friend
+leaving Scotland to join the British forces in America, who were then
+vainly endeavouring to suppress that opposition to the control of the
+mother country which resulted in the permanent establishment of American
+independence. The song is set to the Irish air of "Langolee." It was
+printed in Wilson's Collection of Songs, which was published at
+Edinburgh in 1779, with four additional stanzas by a Miss Betsy B----s,
+of inferior merit. It was re-published in "The Goldfinch" (Edinburgh,
+1782), and afterwards was inserted in Johnson's "Musical Museum." Burns,
+in his letter to Mr George Thomson, of 7th April 1793, writes--"'The
+Banks of the Dee' is, you know, literally 'Langolee' to slow time. The
+song is well enough, but has some false imagery in it; for instance--
+
+ "'And sweetly the nightingale sung from the tree.'
+
+In the first place, the nightingale sings in a low bush, but never from
+a tree; and, in the second place, there never was a nightingale seen or
+heard on the banks of the Dee, or on the banks of any other river in
+Scotland. Creative rural imagery is always comparatively flat."
+
+Thirty years after its first appearance, Mr Tait published a new edition
+of the song in Mr Thomson's Collection, vol. iv., in which he has, by
+alterations on the first half stanza, acknowledged the justice of the
+strictures of the Ayrshire bard. The stanza is altered thus:
+
+ "'Twas summer, and softly the breezes were blowing,
+ And sweetly the _wood-pigeon coo'd from the tree_;
+ At the foot of a rock, where the _wild rose was growing_,
+ I sat myself down on the banks of the Dee."
+
+The song, it may be added, has in several collections been erroneously
+attributed to John Home, author of the tragedy of "Douglas."
+
+
+
+
+THE BANKS OF THE DEE.
+
+
+ 'Twas summer, and softly the breezes were blowing,
+ And sweetly the nightingale sung from the tree,
+ At the foot of a rock where the river was flowing,
+ I sat myself down on the banks of the Dee.
+ Flow on, lovely Dee, flow on, thou sweet river,
+ Thy banks' purest stream shall be dear to me ever,
+ For there first I gain'd the affection and favour
+ Of Jamie, the glory and pride of the Dee.
+
+ But now he 's gone from me, and left me thus mourning,
+ To quell the proud rebels--for valiant is he;
+ And, ah! there's no hope of his speedy returning,
+ To wander again on the banks of the Dee.
+ He 's gone, hapless youth! o'er the rude roaring billows,
+ The kindest and sweetest of all the gay fellows,
+ And left me to wander 'mongst those once loved willows,
+ The loneliest maid on the banks of the Dee.
+
+ But time and my prayers may perhaps yet restore him,
+ Blest peace may restore my dear shepherd to me;
+ And when he returns, with such care I 'll watch o'er him,
+ He never shall leave the sweet banks of the Dee.
+ The Dee then shall flow, all its beauties displaying,
+ The lambs on its banks shall again be seen playing,
+ While I with my Jamie am carelessly straying,
+ And tasting again all the sweets of the Dee.
+
+
+
+
+HECTOR MACNEILL.
+
+
+Hector Macneill was born on the 22d of October 1746, in the villa of
+Rosebank, near Roslin; and, to to use his own words, "amidst the murmur
+of streams and the shades of Hawthornden, may be said to have inhaled
+with life the atmosphere of a poet."[10] Descended from an old family,
+who possessed a small estate in the southern district of Argyllshire,
+his father, after various changes of fortune, had obtained a company in
+the 42d Regiment, with which he served during several campaigns in
+Flanders. From continued indisposition, and consequent inability to
+undergo the fatigues of military life, he disposed of his commission,
+and retired, with his wife and two children, to the villa of Rosebank,
+of which he became the owner. A few years after the birth of his son
+Hector, he felt necessitated, from straitened circumstances, to quit
+this beautiful residence; and he afterwards occupied a farm on the banks
+of Loch Lomond. Such a region of the picturesque was highly suitable for
+the development of those poetical talents which had already appeared in
+young Hector, amidst the rural amenities of Roslin. In his eleventh
+year, he wrote a drama, after the manner of Gay; and the respectable
+execution of his juvenile attempts in versification gained him the
+approbation of Dr Doig, the learned rector of the grammar-school of
+Stirling, who strongly urged his father to afford him sufficient
+instruction, to enable him to enter upon one of the liberal professions.
+Had Captain Macneill's circumstances been prosperous, this counsel might
+have been adopted, for the son's promising talents were not unnoticed by
+his father; but pecuniary difficulties opposed an unsurmountable
+obstacle.
+
+An opulent relative, a West India trader, resident in Bristol, had paid
+the captain a visit; and, attracted by the shrewdness of the son Hector,
+who was his namesake, offered to retain him in his employment, and to
+provide for him in life. After two years' preparatory education, he was
+accordingly sent to Bristol, in his fourteenth year. He was destined to
+an adventurous career, singularly at variance with his early
+predilections and pursuits. By his relative he was designed to sail in a
+slave ship to the coast of Guinea; but the intercession of some female
+friends prevented his being connected with an expedition so uncongenial
+to his feelings. He was now despatched on board a vessel to the island
+of St Christopher's, with the view of his making trial of a seafaring
+life, but was provided with recommendatory letters, in the event of his
+preferring employment on land. With a son of the Bristol trader he
+remained twelvemonths; and, having no desire to resume his labours as a
+seaman, he afterwards sailed for Guadaloupe, where he continued in the
+employment of a merchant for three years, till 1763, when the island was
+ceded to the French. Dismissed by his employer, with a scanty balance of
+salary, he had some difficulty in obtaining the means of transport to
+Antigua; and there, finding himself reduced to entire dependence, he was
+content, without any pecuniary recompense, to become assistant to his
+relative, who had come to the town of St John's. From this unhappy
+condition he was rescued, after a short interval. He was possessed of a
+knowledge of the French language; a qualification which, together with
+his general abilities, recommended him to fill the office of assistant
+to the Provost-Marshal of Grenada. This appointment he held for three
+years, when, hearing of the death of his mother and sister, he returned
+to Britain. On the death of his father, eighteen months after his
+arrival, he succeeded to a small patrimony, which he proceeded to invest
+in the purchase of an annuity of £80 per annum. With this limited
+income, he seems to have planned a permanent settlement in his native
+country; but the unexpected embarrassment of the party from whom he had
+purchased the annuity, and an attachment of an unfortunate nature,
+compelled him to re-embark on the ocean of adventure. He accepted the
+office of assistant-secretary on board Admiral Geary's flag-ship, and
+made two cruises with the grand fleet. Proposing again to return to
+Scotland, he afterwards resigned his appointment; but he was induced, by
+the remonstrances of his friends, Dr Currie, and Mr Roscoe, of
+Liverpool, to accept a similar situation on board the flag-ship of Sir
+Richard Bickerton, who had been appointed to take the chief command of
+the naval power in India. In this post, many of the hardships incident
+to a seafaring life fell to his share; and being present at the last
+indecisive action with "Suffrein," he had likewise to encounter the
+perils of war. His present connexion subsisted three years; but Macneill
+sickened in the discharge of duties wholly unsuitable for him, and
+longed for the comforts of home. His resources were still limited, but
+he flattered himself in the expectation that he might earn a subsistence
+as a man of letters. He fixed his residence at a farm-house in the
+vicinity of Stirling; and, amidst the pursuits of literature, the
+composition of verses, and the cultivation of friendship, he contrived,
+for a time, to enjoy a considerable share of happiness. But he speedily
+discovered the delusion of supposing that an individual, entirely
+unknown in the literary world, could at once be able to establish his
+reputation, and inspire confidence in the bookselling trade, whose
+favour is so essential to men of letters. Discouraged in longer
+persevering in the attempt of procuring a livelihood at home, Macneill,
+for the fourth time, took his departure from Britain. Provided with
+letters of introduction to influential and wealthy persons in Jamaica,
+he sailed for that island on a voyage of adventure; being now in his
+thirty-eighth year, and nearly as unprovided for as when he had first
+left his native shores, twenty-four years before. On his arrival at
+Kingston, he was employed by the collector of customs, whose
+acquaintance he had formed on the voyage; but this official soon found
+he could dispense with his services, which he did, without aiding him in
+obtaining another situation. The individuals to whom he had brought
+letters were unable or unwilling to render him assistance, and the
+unfortunate adventurer was constrained, in his emergency, to accept the
+kind invitation of a medical friend, to make his quarters with him till
+some satisfactory employment might occur. He now discovered two intimate
+companions of his boyhood settled in the island, in very prosperous
+circumstances, and from these he received both pecuniary aid and the
+promise of future support. Through their friendly offices, his two sons,
+who had been sent out by a generous friend, were placed in situations of
+respectability and emolument. But the thoughts of the poet himself were
+directed towards Britain. He sailed from Jamaica, with a thousand plans
+and schemes hovering in his mind, equally vague and indefinite as had
+been his aims and designs during the past chapter of his history. A
+small sum given him as the pay of an inland ensigncy, now conferred on
+him, but antedated, sufficed to defray the expenses of the voyage.
+
+Before leaving Scotland for Jamaica, Macneill had commenced a poem,
+founded on a Highland tradition; and to the completion of this
+production he assiduously devoted himself during his homeward voyage. It
+was published at Edinburgh in 1789, under the title of "The Harp, a
+Legendary Tale." In the previous year, he published a pamphlet in
+vindication of slavery, entitled, "On the Treatment of the Negroes in
+Jamaica." This pamphlet, written to gratify the wishes of an interested
+friend, rather than as the result of his own convictions, he
+subsequently endeavoured to suppress. For several years, Macneill
+persevered in his unsettled mode of life. On his return from Jamaica, he
+resided in the mansion of his friend, Mr Graham of Gartmore, himself a
+writer of verses, as well as a patron of letters; but a difference with
+the family caused him to quit this hospitable residence. After passing
+some time with his relatives in Argyllshire, he entertained a proposal
+of establishing himself in Glasgow, as partner of a mercantile house,
+but this was terminated by the dissolution of the firm; and a second
+attempt to succeed in the republic of letters had an equally
+unsuccessful issue. In Edinburgh, whither he had removed, he was seized
+with a severe nervous illness, which, during the six following years,
+rendered him incapable of sustained physical exertion. With a little
+money, which he contrived to raise on his annuity, he retired to a small
+cottage at St Ninians; but his finances again becoming reduced, he
+accepted of the hospitable invitation of his friends, Major Spark and
+his lady, to become the inmate of their residence of Viewforth House,
+Stirling. At this period, Macneill composed the greater number of his
+best songs, and produced his poem of "Scotland's Skaith, or the History
+of Will and Jean," which was published in 1795, and speedily gained him
+a wide reputation. Before the close of twelvemonths, it passed through
+no fewer than fourteen editions. A sequel, entitled "The Waes o' War,"
+which appeared in 1796, attained nearly an equal popularity. The
+original ballad was composed during the author's solitary walks along
+the promenades of the King's Park, Stirling, while he was still
+suffering mental depression. It was completed in his own mind before any
+of the stanzas were committed to paper.
+
+The hope of benefiting his enfeebled constitution in a warm climate
+induced him to revisit Jamaica. As a parting tribute to his friends at
+Stirling, he published, in 1799, immediately before his departure, a
+descriptive poem, entitled "The Links of Forth, or a Parting Peep at the
+Carse of Stirling," which, regarded as the last effort of a dying poet,
+obtained a reception fully equal to its merits.
+
+On the oft-disappointed and long unfortunate poet the sun of prosperity
+at length arose. On his arrival in Jamaica, one of his early friends, Mr
+John Graham, of Three-Mile-River, settled on him an annuity of £100
+a-year; and, in a few months afterwards, they sailed together for
+Britain, the poet's health being essentially improved. Macneill now
+fixed his permanent residence in Edinburgh, and, with the proceeds of
+several legacies bequeathed to him, together with his annuity, was
+enabled to live in comparative affluence. The narrative of his early
+adventures and hardships is supposed to form the basis of a novel,
+entitled "The Memoirs of Charles Macpherson, Esq.," which proceeded from
+his pen in 1800. In the following year, he published a complete edition
+of his poetical works, in two duodecimo volumes. In 1809, he published
+"The Pastoral, or Lyric Muse of Scotland," in a thin quarto volume; and
+about the same time, anonymously, two other works in verse, entitled
+"Town Fashions, or Modern Manners Delineated," and "Bygone Times and
+Late-come Changes." His last work, "The Scottish Adventurers," a novel,
+appeared in 1812, in two octavo volumes.
+
+The latter productions of Hector Macneill, both in prose and verse,
+tended rather to diminish than increase his fame. They exhibit the
+sentiments of a querulous old man, inclined to cling to the habits of
+his youth, and to regard any improvement as an act of ruthless
+innovation. As the author of some excellent songs, and one of the most
+popular ballads in the Scottish language, his name will continue to be
+remembered. His songs, "Mary of Castlecary," "My boy, Tammie," "Come
+under my plaidie," "I lo'ed ne'er a laddie but ane," "Donald and Flora,"
+and "Dinna think, bonnie lassie," will retain a firm hold of the popular
+mind. His characteristic is tenderness and pathos, combined with unity
+of feeling, and a simplicity always genuine and true to nature. Allan
+Cunningham, who forms only a humble estimate of his genius, remarks that
+his songs "have much softness and truth, an insinuating grace of
+manners, and a decorum of expression, with no small skill in the
+dramatic management of the stories."[11] The ballad of "Scotland's
+Skaith" ranks among the happiest conceptions of the Scottish Doric muse;
+rural life is depicted with singular force and accuracy, and the
+debasing consequences of the inordinate use of ardent spirits among the
+peasantry, are delineated with a vigour and power, admirably adapted to
+suit the author's benevolent intention in the suppression of
+intemperance.
+
+During his latter years, Macneill was much cherished among the
+fashionables of the capital. He was a tall, venerable-looking old man;
+and although his complexion was sallow, and his countenance somewhat
+austere, his agreeable and fascinating conversation, full of humour and
+replete with anecdote, rendered him an acceptable guest in many social
+circles. He displayed a lively, but not a vigorous intellect, and his
+literary attainments were inconsiderable. Of his own character as a man
+of letters, he had evidently formed a high estimate. He was prone to
+satire, but did not unduly indulge in it. He was especially impatient of
+indifferent versification; and, among his friends, rather discouraged
+than commended poetical composition. Though long unsettled himself, he
+was loud in his commendations of industry; and, from the gay man of the
+world, he became earnest on the subject of religion. For several years,
+his health seems to have been unsatisfactory. In a letter to a friend,
+dated Edinburgh, January 30, 1813, he writes:--"Accumulating years and
+infirmities are beginning to operate very sensibly upon me now, and
+yearly do I experience their increasing influence. Both my hearing and
+my sight are considerably weakened, and, should I live a few years
+longer, I look forward to a state which, with all our love for life, is
+certainly not to be envied.... My pen is my chief amusement. Reading
+soon fatigues, and loses its zest; composition never, till over-exertion
+reminds me of my imprudence, by sensations which too frequently render
+me unpleasant during the rest of the day." On the 15th of March 1818, in
+his seventy-second year, the poet breathed his last, in entire
+composure, and full of hope.
+
+
+[10] We quote from an autobiography of the poet, the original of which
+is in the possession of one of his surviving friends. We have likewise
+to acknowledge our obligations to Dr Muschet, of Birkhill, near
+Stirling, for communicating some interesting letters of Macneill,
+addressed to his late father. The late Mr John Campbell, Writer to the
+Signet, had undertaken to supply a memoir for this work, partly from his
+own recollections of his deceased friend; but, before he could fulfil
+his promise, he was called to rest with his fathers. We have, however,
+taken advantage of his reminiscences of the bard, orally communicated to
+us. An intelligent abridgment of the autobiography appears in
+_Blackwood's Magazine_, vol. iv. p. 273. See likewise the _Encyclopædia
+Britannica_, vol. xv. p. 307.
+
+[11] "The Songs of Scotland, Ancient and Modern," by Allan Cunningham,
+vol. i. p. 242. London, 1825; 4 vols. 12mo.
+
+
+
+
+MARY OF CASTLECARY.[12]
+
+TUNE--_"Bonnie Dundee."_
+
+
+ "Oh, saw ye my wee thing? saw ye my ain thing?
+ Saw ye my true love, down on yon lee?
+ Cross'd she the meadow yestreen at the gloamin'?
+ Sought she the burnie whare flow'rs the haw-tree?
+ Her hair it is lint-white; her skin it is milk-white;
+ Dark is the blue o' her saft rolling e'e;
+ Red, red her ripe lips, and sweeter than roses:
+ Whare could my wee thing wander frae me?"
+
+ "I saw na your wee thing, I saw na your ain thing,
+ Nor saw I your true love, down on yon lea;
+ But I met my bonnie thing, late in the gloamin',
+ Down by the burnie whare flow'rs the haw-tree.
+ Her hair it was lint-white; her skin it was milk-white;
+ Dark was the blue o' her saft rolling e'e;
+ Red were her ripe lips, and sweeter than roses:
+ Sweet were the kisses that she ga'e to me!"
+
+ "It was na my wee thing, it was na my ain thing,
+ It was na my true love, ye met by the tree:
+ Proud is her leal heart--modest her nature;
+ She never lo'ed ony till ance she lo'ed me.
+ Her name it is Mary; she 's frae Castlecary;
+ Aft has she sat, when a bairn, on my knee;--
+ Fair as your face is, were 't fifty times fairer,
+ Young bragger, she ne'er would gi'e kisses to thee."
+
+ "It was, then, your Mary; she 's frae Castlecary;
+ It was, then, your true love I met by the tree;--
+ Proud as her heart is, and modest her nature,
+ Sweet were the kisses that she ga'e to me."
+ Sair gloom'd his dark brow, blood-red his cheek grew;
+ Wild flash'd the fire frae his red rolling e'e--
+ "Ye 's rue sair, this morning, your boasts and your scorning;
+ Defend, ye fause traitor! fu' loudly ye lie."
+
+ "Awa' wi' beguiling," cried the youth, smiling;--
+ Aff went the bonnet; the lint-white locks flee;
+ The belted plaid fa'ing, her white bosom shawing--
+ Fair stood the lo'ed maid wi' the dark rolling e'e.
+ "Is it my wee thing? is it mine ain thing?
+ Is it my true love here that I see?"
+ "Oh, Jamie, forgi'e me! your heart 's constant to me;
+ I 'll never mair wander, dear laddie, frae thee!"
+
+
+[12] This song was first published, in May 1791, in _The Bee_, an
+Edinburgh periodical, conducted by Dr James Anderson.
+
+
+
+
+MY BOY, TAMMY.[13]
+
+
+ "Whare hae ye been a' day,
+ My boy, Tammy?
+ Whare hae ye been a' day,
+ My boy, Tammy?"
+ "I 've been by burn and flow'ry brae,
+ Meadow green, and mountain gray,
+ Courting o' this young thing,
+ Just come frae her mammy."
+
+ "And whare got ye that young thing,
+ My boy, Tammy?"
+ "I gat her down in yonder howe,
+ Smiling on a broomy knowe,
+ Herding a wee lamb and ewe
+ For her poor mammy."
+
+ "What said ye to the bonnie bairn,
+ My boy, Tammy?"
+ "I praised her een, sae bonny blue,
+ Her dimpled cheek, and cherry mou';
+ I pree'd it aft, as ye may true;--
+ She said she 'd tell her mammy.
+
+ "I held her to my beating heart,
+ My young, my smiling lammie!
+ 'I hae a house, it cost me dear;
+ I 've wealth o' plenishin' and gear;--
+ Ye 'se get it a', were 't ten times mair,
+ Gin ye will leave your mammy.'
+
+ "The smile gaed aff her bonnie face--
+ 'I maunna leave my mammy;
+ She 's gi'en me meat, she 's gi'en me claise,
+ She 's been my comfort a' my days;
+ My father's death brought mony waes--
+ I canna leave my mammy.'"
+
+ "We 'll tak her hame, and mak her fain,
+ My ain kind-hearted lammie;
+ We 'll gi'e her meat, we 'll gi'e her claise,
+ We 'll be her comfort a' her days."
+ The wee thing gi'es her hand and says--
+ "There! gang and ask my mammy."
+
+ "Has she been to kirk wi' thee,
+ My boy, Tammy?"
+ "She has been to kirk wi' me,
+ And the tear was in her e'e;
+ But, oh! she 's but a young thing,
+ Just come frae her mammy."
+
+
+[13] This beautiful ballad was first printed, in 1791, in _The Bee_. It
+is adapted to an old and sweet air, to which, however, very puerile
+words were attached.
+
+
+
+
+OH, TELL ME HOW FOR TO WOO![14]
+
+TUNE--_"Bonnie Dundee."_
+
+
+ "Oh, tell me, bonnie young lassie!
+ Oh, tell me how for to woo!
+ Oh, tell me, bonnie sweet lassie!
+ Oh, tell me how for to woo!
+ Say, maun I roose your cheeks like the morning?
+ Lips, like the roses, fresh moisten'd wi' dew;
+ Say, maun I roose your een's pawkie scorning?
+ Oh, tell me how for to woo!
+
+ "Far hae I wander'd to see thee, dear lassie!
+ Far hae I ventured across the saut sea;
+ Far hae I travell'd ower moorland and mountain,
+ Houseless and weary, sleep'd cauld on the lea.
+ Ne'er hae I tried yet to mak love to onie,
+ For ne'er lo'ed I onie till ance I lo'ed you;
+ Now we 're alane in the green-wood sae bonnie--
+ Oh, tell me how for to woo!"
+
+ "What care I for your wand'ring, young laddie?
+ What care I for your crossing the sea?
+ It was na for naething ye left poor young Peggie;
+ It was for my tocher ye cam' to court me.
+ Say, hae ye gowd to busk me aye gaudie?
+ Ribbons, and perlins, and breast-knots enew?
+ A house that is canty, with wealth in 't, my laddie?
+ Without this ye never need try for to woo."
+
+ "I hae na gowd to busk ye aye gaudie;
+ I canna buy ribbons and perlins enew;
+ I 've naething to brag o' house, or o' plenty,
+ I 've little to gi'e, but a heart that is true.
+ I cam' na for tocher--I ne'er heard o' onie;
+ I never lo'ed Peggy, nor e'er brak my vow:
+ I 've wander'd, puir fule! for a face fause as bonnie:
+ I little thocht this was the way for to woo."
+
+ "Our laird has fine houses, and guineas o' gowd
+ He 's youthfu', he 's blooming, and comely to see.
+ The leddies are a' ga'en wud for the wooer,
+ And yet, ilka e'ening, he leaves them for me.
+ Oh, saft in the gloaming, his love he discloses!
+ And saftly, yestreen, as I milked my cow,
+ He swore that my breath it was sweeter than roses,
+ And a' the gait hame he did naething but woo."
+
+ "Ah, Jenny! the young laird may brag o' his siller,
+ His houses, his lands, and his lordly degree;
+ His speeches for _true love_ may drap sweet as honey,
+ But trust me, dear Jenny, he ne'er lo'ed like _me_.
+ The wooin' o' gentry are fine words o' fashion--
+ The faster they fa' as the heart is least true;
+ The dumb look o' love 's aft the best proof o' passion;
+ The heart that feels maist is the least fit to woo."
+
+ "Hae na ye roosed my cheeks like the morning?
+ Hae na ye roosed my cherry-red mou'?
+ Hae na ye come ower sea, moor, and mountain?
+ What mair, Johnnie, need ye to woo?
+ Far ye wander'd, I ken, my dear laddie;
+ Now that ye 've found me, there 's nae cause to rue;
+ Wi' health we 'll hae plenty--I 'll never gang gaudie;
+ I ne'er wish'd for mair than a heart that is true."
+
+ She hid her fair face in her true lover's bosom,
+ The saft tear o' transport fill'd ilk lover's e'e;
+ The burnie ran sweet by their side as they sabbit,
+ And sweet sang the mavis aboon on the tree.
+ He clasp'd her, he press'd her, and ca'd her his hinny;
+ And aften he tasted her honey-sweet mou';
+ And aye, 'tween ilk kiss, she sigh'd to her Johnnie,
+ "Oh, laddie! weel can ye woo."
+
+
+[14] Mr Graham, of Gartmore, an intimate friend of Hector Macneill,
+composed a song, having a similar burden, the chorus proceeding thus:--
+
+ "Then, tell me how to woo thee, love;
+ Oh, tell me how to woo thee!
+ For thy dear sake nae care I'll take,
+ Though ne'er another trow me."
+
+This was published by Sir Walter Scott, in the "Minstrelsy of the
+Scottish Border," as a production of the reign of Charles I.
+
+
+
+
+LASSIE WI' THE GOWDEN HAIR.
+
+
+ Lassie wi' the gowden hair,
+ Silken snood, and face sae fair;
+ Lassie wi' the yellow hair,
+ Thinkna to deceive me.
+ Lassie wi' the gowden hair,
+ Flattering smile, and face sae fair,
+ Fare ye weel! for never mair
+ Johnnie will believe ye.
+ Oh, no! Mary Bawn, Mary Bawn, Mary Bawn;
+ Oh, no! Mary Bawn, ye 'll nae mair deceive me.
+
+ Smiling, twice ye made me troo,
+ Twice, poor fool! I turn'd to woo;
+ Twice, fause maid! ye brak your vow;
+ Now I 've sworn to leave ye.
+ Twice, fause maid! ye brak your vow;
+ Twice, poor fool! I 've learn'd to rue;
+ Come ye yet to mak me troo?
+ Thrice ye 'll ne'er deceive me.
+ No, no! Mary Bawn, Mary Bawn, Mary Bawn;
+ Oh, no! Mary Bawn; thrice ye 'll ne'er deceive me.
+
+ Mary saw him turn to part;
+ Deep his words sank in her heart;
+ Soon the tears began to start--
+ "Johnnie, will ye leave me?"
+ Soon the tears began to start,
+ Grit and gritter grew his heart;
+ "Yet a word before we part,
+ Love could ne'er deceive ye.
+ Oh, no! Johnnie doo, Johnnie doo, Johnnie doo;
+ Oh, no! Johnnie doo--love could ne'er deceive ye."
+
+ Johnnie took a parting keek;
+ Saw the tears drap owre her cheek;
+ Pale she stood, but couldna speak--
+ Mary 's cured o' smiling.
+ Johnnie took anither keek--
+ Beauty's rose has left her cheek;
+ Pale she stands, and canna speak.
+ This is nae beguiling.
+ Oh, no! Mary Bawn, Mary Bawn, dear Mary Bawn;
+ Oh, no; Mary Bawn--love has nae beguiling.
+
+
+
+
+COME UNDER MY PLAIDIE.
+
+TUNE--_"Johnnie M'Gill."_
+
+
+ "Come under my plaidie, the night 's gaun to fa';
+ Come in frae the cauld blast, the drift, and the snaw;
+ Come under my plaidie, and sit down beside me,
+ There 's room in 't, dear lassie, believe me, for twa.
+ Come under my plaidie, and sit down beside me,
+ I 'll hap ye frae every cauld blast that can blaw:
+ Oh, come under my plaidie, and sit down beside me!
+ There 's room in 't, dear lassie, believe me, for twa."
+
+ "Gae 'wa wi' your plaidie, auld Donald, gae 'wa,
+ I fear na the cauld blast, the drift, nor the snaw;
+ Gae 'wa wi' your plaidie, I 'll no sit beside ye;
+ Ye may be my gutcher;--auld Donald, gae 'wa.
+ I 'm gaun to meet Johnnie, he 's young and he 's bonnie;
+ He 's been at Meg's bridal, fu' trig and fu' braw;
+ Oh, nane dances sae lightly, sae gracefu', sae tightly!
+ His cheek 's like the new rose, his brow 's like the snaw."
+
+ "Dear Marion, let that flee stick fast to the wa';
+ Your Jock 's but a gowk, and has naething ava;
+ The hale o' his pack he has now on his back--
+ He 's thretty, and I am but threescore and twa.
+ Be frank now and kindly; I 'll busk ye aye finely;
+ To kirk or to market they 'll few gang sae braw;
+ A bein house to bide in, a chaise for to ride in,
+ And flunkies to 'tend ye as aft as ye ca'."
+
+ "My father 's aye tauld me, my mither and a',
+ Ye 'd mak a gude husband, and keep me aye braw;
+ It 's true I lo'e Johnnie, he 's gude and he 's bonnie;
+ But, waes me! ye ken he has naething ava.
+ I hae little tocher; you 've made a gude offer;
+ I 'm now mair than twenty--my time is but sma';
+ Sae gi'e me your plaidie, I 'll creep in beside ye--
+ I thocht ye 'd been aulder than threescore and twa."
+
+ She crap in ayont him, aside the stane wa',
+ Whare Johnnie was list'ning, and heard her tell a';
+ The day was appointed, his proud heart it dunted,
+ And strack 'gainst his side as if bursting in twa.
+ He wander'd hame weary, the night it was dreary;
+ And, thowless, he tint his gate 'mang the deep snaw;
+ The owlet was screamin' while Johnnie cried, "Women
+ Wad marry Auld Nick if he 'd keep them aye braw."
+
+
+
+
+I LO'ED NE'ER A LADDIE BUT ANE.[15]
+
+
+ I lo'ed ne'er a laddie but ane,
+ He lo'ed ne'er a lassie but me;
+ He 's willing to mak' me his ain,
+ And his ain I am willing to be.
+ He has coft me a rokelay o' blue,
+ And a pair o' mittens o' green;
+ The price was a kiss o' my mou',
+ And I paid him the debt yestreen.
+
+ Let ithers brag weel o' their gear,
+ Their land and their lordly degree;
+ I carena for aught but my dear,
+ For he 's ilka thing lordly to me:
+ His words are sae sugar'd and sweet!
+ His sense drives ilk fear far awa'!
+ I listen, poor fool! and I greet;
+ Yet how sweet are the tears as they fa'!
+
+ "Dear lassie," he cries, wi' a jeer,
+ "Ne'er heed what the auld anes will say;
+ Though we 've little to brag o', near fear--
+ What 's gowd to a heart that is wae?
+ Our laird has baith honours and wealth,
+ Yet see how he 's dwining wi' care;
+ Now we, though we 've naething but health,
+ Are cantie and leal evermair.
+
+ "O Marion! the heart that is true,
+ Has something mair costly than gear!
+ Ilk e'en it has naething to rue,
+ Ilk morn it has naething to fear.
+ Ye warldlings! gae hoard up your store,
+ And tremble for fear aught ye tyne;
+ Guard your treasures wi' lock, bar, and door,
+ While here in my arms I lock mine!"
+
+ He ends wi' a kiss and a smile--
+ Wae 's me! can I tak' it amiss?
+ My laddie 's unpractised in guile,
+ He 's free aye to daut and to kiss!
+ Ye lasses wha lo'e to torment
+ Your wooers wi' fause scorn and strife,
+ Play your pranks--I hae gi'en my consent,
+ And this nicht I 'm Jamie's for life!
+
+
+[15] The first stanza of this song, along with a second, which is
+unsuitable for insertion, has been ascribed, on the authority of Burns,
+to the Rev. John Clunie, minister of Borthwick, in Mid-Lothian, who died
+in 1819, aged sixty-two. Ritson, however, by prefixing the letters "J.
+D." to the original stanza would seem to point to a different author.
+
+
+
+
+DONALD AND FLORA.[16]
+
+
+ I.
+
+ When merry hearts were gay,
+ Careless of aught but play,
+ Poor Flora slipt away,
+ Sadd'ning to Mora;[17]
+ Loose flow'd her yellow hair,
+ Quick heaved her bosom bare,
+ As to the troubled air
+ She vented her sorrow.
+
+
+ II.
+
+ "Loud howls the stormy wist,
+ Cold, cold is winter's blast;
+ Haste, then, O Donald, haste,
+ Haste to thy Flora!
+ Twice twelve long months are o'er,
+ Since on a foreign shore
+ You promised to fight no more,
+ But meet me in Mora."
+
+
+ III.
+
+ "'Where now is Donald dear?'
+ Maids cry with taunting sneer;
+ 'Say, is he still sincere
+ To his loved Flora?'
+ Parents upbraid my moan,
+ Each heart is turn'd to stone:
+ 'Ah, Flora! thou 'rt now alone,
+ Friendless in Mora!'
+
+
+ IV.
+
+ "Come, then, O come away!
+ Donald, no longer stay;
+ Where can my rover stray
+ From his loved Flora!
+ Ah! sure he ne'er can be
+ False to his vows and me;
+ Oh, Heaven!--is not yonder he,
+ Bounding o'er Mora!"
+
+
+ V.
+
+ "Never, ah! wretched fair!"
+ Sigh'd the sad messenger,
+ "Never shall Donald mair
+ Meet his loved Flora!
+ Cold as yon mountain snow
+ Donald thy love lies low;
+ He sent me to soothe thy woe,
+ Weeping in Mora.
+
+
+ VI.
+
+ "Well fought our gallant men
+ On Saratoga's plain;
+ Thrice fled the hostile train
+ From British glory.
+ But, ah! though our foes did flee,
+ Sad was such victory--
+ Truth, love, and loyalty
+ Fell far from Mora.
+
+
+ VII.
+
+ "'Here, take this love-wrought plaid,'
+ Donald, expiring, said;
+ 'Give it to yon dear maid
+ Drooping in Mora.
+ Tell her, O Allan! tell
+ Donald thus bravely fell,
+ And that in his last farewell
+ He thought on his Flora.'"
+
+
+ VIII.
+
+ Mute stood the trembling fair,
+ Speechless with wild despair;
+ Then, striking her bosom bare,
+ Sigh'd out, "Poor Flora!
+ Ah, Donald! ah, well-a-day!"
+ Was all the fond heart could say:
+ At length the sound died away
+ Feebly in Mora.
+
+
+[16] This fine ballad was written by Macneill, to commemorate the death
+of his friend, Captain Stewart, a brave officer, betrothed to a young
+lady in Athole, who, in 1777, fell at the battle of Saratoga, in
+America. The words, which are adapted to an old Gaelic air, appear with
+music in Smith's "Scottish Minstrel," vol. iii. p. 28. The ballad, in
+the form given above, has been improved in several of the stanzas by the
+author, on his original version, published in Johnson's "Museum." See
+the "Museum," vol. iv. p. 238.
+
+[17] Mora is the name of a small valley in Athole, so designated by the
+two lovers.
+
+
+
+
+MY LUVE'S IN GERMANY.[18]
+
+TUNE--_"Ye Jacobites by name."_
+
+
+ My luve 's in Germanie, send him hame, send him hame;
+ My luve 's in Germanie, send him hame;
+ My luve 's in Germanie,
+ Fighting brave for royalty:
+ He may ne'er his Jeanie see--
+ Send him hame.
+
+ He 's as brave as brave can be--send him hame, send him hame;
+ He 's as brave as brave can be--send him hame;
+ He 's as brave as brave can be,
+ He wad rather fa' than flee;
+ His life is dear to me--
+ Send him hame.
+
+ Your luve ne'er learnt to flee, bonnie dame, bonnie dame,
+ Your luve ne'er learnt to flee, bonnie dame;
+ Your luve ne'er learnt to flee,
+ But he fell in Germanie,
+ In the cause of royalty,
+ Bonnie dame.
+
+ He 'll ne'er come ower the sea--Willie 's slain, Willie 's slain;
+ He 'll ne'er come ower the sea--Willie 's gane!
+ He 'll ne'er come ower the sea,
+ To his love and ain countrie:
+ This warld 's nae mair for me--
+ Willie 's gane!
+
+
+[18] This song was originally printed on a single sheet, by N. Stewart
+and Co., Edinburgh, in 1794, as the lament of a lady on the death of an
+officer. It does not appear in Macneill's "Poetical Works," but he
+asserted to Mr Stenhouse his claims to the authorship.--Johnson's
+"Museum," vol. iv. p. 323.
+
+
+
+
+DINNA THINK, BONNIE LASSIE.[19]
+
+TUNE--_"Clunie's Reel."_
+
+
+ "Oh, dinna think, bonnie lassie, I 'm gaun to leave thee!
+ Dinna think, bonnie lassie, I 'm gaun to leave thee;
+ Dinna think, bonnie lassie, I 'm gaun to leave thee;
+ I 'll tak a stick into my hand, and come again and see thee."
+
+ "Far 's the gate ye hae to gang; dark 's the night, and eerie;
+ Far 's the gate ye hae to gang; dark 's the night, and eerie;
+ Far 's the gate ye hae to gang; dark 's the night, and eerie;
+ Oh, stay this night wi' your love, and dinna gang and leave me."
+
+ "It 's but a night and hauf a day that I 'll leave my dearie;
+ But a night and hauf a day that I 'll leave my dearie;
+ But a night and hauf a day that I 'll leave my dearie;
+ Whene'er the sun gaes west the loch, I 'll come again and see thee."
+
+ "Dinna gang, my bonnie lad, dinna gang and leave me;
+ Dinna gang, my bonnie lad, dinna gang and leave me;
+ When a' the lave are sound asleep, I 'm dull and eerie;
+ And a' the lee-lang night I 'm sad, wi' thinking on my dearie."
+
+ "Oh, dinna think, bonnie lassie, I 'm gaun to leave thee!
+ Dinna think, bonnie lassie, I 'm gaun to leave thee;
+ Dinna think, bonnie lassie, I 'm gaun to leave thee;
+ Whene'er the sun gaes out o' sight, I 'll come again and see thee."
+
+ "Waves are rising o'er the sea; winds blaw loud and fear me;
+ Waves are rising o'er the sea; winds blaw loud and fear me;
+ While the winds and waves do roar, I am wae and drearie;
+ And gin ye lo'e me as ye say, ye winna gang and leave me."
+
+ "Oh, never mair, bonnie lassie, will I gang and leave thee!
+ Never mair, bonnie lassie, will I gang and leave thee;
+ Never mair, bonnie lassie, will I gang and leave thee;
+ E'en let the world gang as it will, I 'll stay at hame and cheer ye."
+
+ Frae his hand he coost his stick; "I winna gang and leave thee;"
+ Threw his plaid into the neuk; "Never can I grieve thee;"
+ Drew his boots, and flang them by; cried, "My lass, be cheerie;
+ I 'll kiss the tear frae aff thy cheek, and never leave my dearie."
+
+
+[19] The last verse of this song was added by John Hamilton. The song,
+on account of this addition, was not included by Macneill in the
+collected edition of his "Poetical Works." One of Miss Blamire's songs
+has the same opening line; and it has been conjectured by Mr Maxwell,
+the editor of her poems, that Macneill had been indebted to her song for
+suggesting his verses.
+
+
+
+
+MRS GRANT OF LAGGAN.
+
+
+Mrs Anne Grant, commonly styled of Laggan, to distinguish her from her
+contemporary, Mrs Grant of Carron, was born at Glasgow, in February
+1755. Her father, Mr Duncan Macvicar, was an officer in the army, and,
+by her mother, she was descended from the old family of Stewart, of
+Invernahyle, in Argyllshire. Her early infancy was passed at
+Fort-William; but her father having accompanied his regiment to America,
+and there become a settler, in the State of New York, at a very tender
+age she was taken by her mother across the Atlantic, to her new home.
+Though her third year had not been completed when she arrived in
+America, she retained a distinct recollection of her landing at
+Charlestown. By her mother she was taught to read, and a well-informed
+serjeant made her acquainted with writing. Her precocity for learning
+was remarkable. Ere she had reached her sixth year, she had made herself
+familiar with the Old Testament, and could speak the Dutch language,
+which she had learned from a family of Dutch settlers. The love of
+poetry and patriotism was simultaneously evinced. At this early period,
+she read Milton's "Paradise Lost" with attention, and even
+appreciation; and glowed with the enthusiastic ardour of a young heroine
+over the adventures of Wallace, detailed in the metrical history of
+Henry, the Minstrel. Her juvenile talent attracted the notice of the
+more intelligent settlers in the State, and gained her the friendship of
+the distinguished Madame Schuyler, whose virtues she afterwards depicted
+in her "Memoirs of an American Lady."
+
+In 1768, along with his wife and daughter, Mr Macvicar returned to
+Scotland, his health having suffered by his residence in America; and,
+during the three following summers, his daughter found means of
+gratifying her love of song, on the banks of the Cart, near Glasgow. The
+family residence was now removed to Fort-Augustus, where Mr Macvicar had
+received the appointment of barrack-master. The chaplain of the fort was
+the Rev. James Grant, a young clergyman, related to several of the more
+respectable families in the district, who was afterwards appointed
+minister of the parish of Laggan, in Inverness-shire. At Fort-Augustus,
+he had recommended himself to the affections of Miss Macvicar, by his
+elegant tastes and accomplished manners, and he now became the
+successful suitor for her hand. They were married in 1779, and Mrs
+Grant, to approve herself a useful helpmate to her husband, began
+assiduously to acquaint herself with the manners and habits of the
+humbler classes of the people. The inquiries instituted at this period
+were turned to an account more extensive than originally contemplated.
+Mr Grant, who was constitutionally delicate, died in 1801, leaving his
+widow and eight surviving children without any means of support, his
+worldly circumstances being considerably embarrassed.
+
+On a small farm which she had rented, in the vicinity of her late
+husband's parish, Mrs Grant resided immediately subsequent to his
+decease; but the profits of the lease were evidently inadequate for the
+comfortable maintenance of the family. Among the circle of her friends
+she was known as a writer of verses; in her ninth year, she had essayed
+an imitation of Milton; and she had written poetry, or at least verses,
+on the banks of the Cart and at Fort-Augustus. To aid in supporting her
+family, she was strongly advised to collect her pieces into a volume;
+and, to encourage her in acting upon this recommendation, no fewer than
+three thousand subscribers were procured for the work by her friends.
+The celebrated Duchess of Gordon proved an especial promoter of the
+cause. In 1803, a volume of poems appeared from her pen, which, though
+displaying no high powers, was favourably received, and had the double
+advantage of making her known, and of materially aiding her finances.
+From the profits, she made settlement of her late husband's liabilities;
+and now perceiving a likelihood of being able to support her family by
+her literary exertions, she abandoned the lease of her farm. She took up
+her residence near the town of Stirling, residing in the mansion of
+Gartur, in that neighbourhood. In 1806, she again appeared before the
+public as an author, by publishing a selection of her correspondence
+with her friends, in three duodecimo volumes, under the designation of
+"Letters from the Mountains." This work passed through several editions.
+In 1808, Mrs Grant published the life of her early friend, Madame
+Schuyler, under the designation of "Memoirs of an American Lady," in two
+volumes.
+
+From the rural retirement of Gartur, she soon removed to the town of
+Stirling; but in 1810, as her circumstances became more prosperous, she
+took up her permanent abode in Edinburgh. Some distinguished literary
+characters of the Scottish capital now resorted to her society. She was
+visited by Sir Walter Scott, Francis Jeffrey, James Hogg, and others,
+attracted by the vivacity of her conversation. The "Essays on the
+Superstitions of the Highlanders of Scotland" appeared in 1811, in two
+volumes; in 1814, she published a metrical work, in two parts, entitled
+"Eighteen Hundred and Thirteen;" and, in the year following, she
+produced her "Popular Models and Impressive Warnings for the Sons and
+Daughters of Industry."
+
+In 1825, Mrs Grant received a civil-list pension of £50 a-year, in
+consideration of her literary talents, which, with the profits of her
+works and the legacies of several deceased friends, rendered the latter
+period of her life sufficiently comfortable in respect of pecuniary
+means. She died on the 7th of November 1838, in the eighty-fourth year
+of her age, and retaining her faculties to the last. A collection of her
+correspondence was published in 1844, in three volumes octavo, edited by
+her only surviving son, John P. Grant, Esq.
+
+As a writer, Mrs Grant occupies a respectable place. She had the happy
+art of turning her every-day observation, as well as the fruits of her
+research, to the best account. Her letters, which she published at the
+commencement of her literary career, as well as those which appeared
+posthumously, are favourable specimens of that species of composition.
+As a poet, she attained to no eminence. "The Highlanders," her longest
+and most ambitious poetical effort, exhibits some glowing descriptions
+of mountain scenery, and the stern though simple manners of the Gaël. Of
+a few songs which proceed from her pen, that commencing, "Oh, where,
+tell me where?" written on the occasion of the Marquis of Huntly's
+departure for Holland with his regiment, in 1799, has only become
+generally known. It has been parodied in a song, by an unknown author,
+entitled "The Blue Bells of Scotland," which has obtained a wider range
+of popularity.
+
+
+
+
+OH, WHERE, TELL ME WHERE?
+
+
+ "Oh, where, tell me where, is your Highland laddie gone?
+ Oh, where, tell me where, is your Highland laddie gone?"
+ "He 's gone, with streaming banners, where noble deeds are done,
+ And my sad heart will tremble till he come safely home.
+ He 's gone, with streaming banners, where noble deeds are done,
+ And my sad heart will tremble till he come safely home."
+
+ "Oh, where, tell me where, did your Highland laddie stay?
+ Oh, where, tell me where, did your Highland laddie stay?"
+ "He dwelt beneath the holly-trees, beside the rapid Spey,
+ And many a blessing follow'd him, the day he went away.
+ He dwelt beneath the holly-trees, beside the rapid Spey,
+ And many a blessing follow'd him, the day he went away."
+
+ "Oh, what, tell me what, does your Highland laddie wear?
+ Oh, what, tell me what, does your Highland laddie wear?"
+ "A bonnet with a lofty plume, the gallant badge of war,
+ And a plaid across the manly breast that yet shall wear a star;
+ A bonnet with a lofty plume, the gallant badge of war,
+ And a plaid across the manly breast that yet shall wear a star."
+
+ "Suppose, ah, suppose, that some cruel, cruel wound,
+ Should pierce your Highland laddie, and all your hopes confound!"
+ "The pipe would play a cheering march, the banners round him fly;
+ The spirit of a Highland chief would lighten in his eye;
+ The pipe would play a cheering march, the banners round him fly,
+ And for his king and country dear with pleasure he would die!"
+
+ "But I will hope to see him yet, in Scotland's bonny bounds;
+ But I will hope to see him yet, in Scotland's bonny bounds.
+ His native land of liberty shall nurse his glorious wounds,
+ While, wide through all our Highland hills, his warlike name resounds;
+ His native land of liberty shall nurse his glorious wounds,
+ While, wide through all our Highland hills, his warlike name resounds."
+
+
+
+
+OH, MY LOVE, LEAVE ME NOT![20]
+
+AIR--_"Bealach na Gharraidh."_
+
+
+ Oh, my love, leave me not!
+ Oh, my love, leave me not!
+ Oh, my love, leave me not!
+ Lonely and weary.
+
+ Could you but stay a while,
+ And my fond fears beguile,
+ I yet once more could smile,
+ Lightsome and cheery.
+
+ Night, with her darkest shroud,
+ Tempests that roar aloud,
+ Thunders that burst the cloud,
+ Why should I fear ye?
+
+ Till the sad hour we part,
+ Fear cannot make me start;
+ Grief cannot break my heart
+ Whilst thou art near me.
+
+ Should you forsake my sight,
+ Day would to me be night;
+ Sad, I would shun its light,
+ Heartless and weary.
+
+
+[20] From Albyn's "Anthology," vol. i. p. 42. Edinburgh, 1816, 4to.
+
+
+
+
+JOHN MAYNE.
+
+
+John Mayne, chiefly known as the author of "The Siller Gun," a poem
+descriptive of burgher habits in Scotland towards the close of the
+century, was born at Dumfries, on the 26th of March 1759. At the grammar
+school of his native town, under Dr Chapman, the learned rector, whose
+memory he has celebrated in the third canto of his principal poem, he
+had the benefit of a respectable elementary education; and having chosen
+the profession of a printer, he entered at an early age the printing
+office of the _Dumfries Journal_. In 1782, when his parents removed to
+Glasgow, to reside on a little property to which they had succeeded, he
+sought employment under the celebrated Messrs Foulis, in whose printing
+establishment he continued during the five following years. He paid a
+visit to London in 1785, with the view of advancing his professional
+interests, and two years afterwards he settled in the metropolis.
+
+Mayne, while a mere stripling, was no unsuccessful wooer of the Muse;
+and in his sixteenth year he produced the germ of that poem on which his
+reputation chiefly depends. This production, entitled "The Siller Gun,"
+descriptive of a sort of _walkingshaw_, or an ancient practice which
+obtained in his native town, of shooting, on the king's birth-day, for a
+silver tube or gun, which had been presented by James VI. to the
+incorporated trades, as a prize to the best marksman, was printed at
+Dumfries in 1777, on a small quarto page. The original edition consisted
+of twelve stanzas; in two years it increased to two cantos; in 1780, it
+was printed in three cantos; in 1808, it was published in London with a
+fourth; and in 1836, just before his death, the author added a fifth.
+The latest edition was published by subscription, in an elegant
+duodecimo volume.
+
+In 1780, in the pages of Ruddiman's _Weekly Magazine_, Mayne published a
+short poem on "Halloween," which suggested Burns's celebrated poem on
+the same subject. In 1781, he published at Glasgow his song of "Logan
+Braes," of which Burns afterwards composed a new version.
+
+In London, Mayne was first employed as printer, and subsequently became
+joint-editor and proprietor, along with Dr Tilloch, of the _Star_
+evening newspaper. With this journal he retained a connexion till his
+death, which took place at London on the 14th of March 1836.
+
+Besides the humorous and descriptive poem of "The Siller Gun," which, in
+the opinion of Sir Walter Scott, surpasses the efforts of Ferguson, and
+comes near to those of Burns,[21] Mayne published another epic
+production, entitled "Glasgow," which appeared in 1803, and has passed
+through several editions. In the same year he published "English, Scots,
+and Irishmen," a chivalrous address to the population of the three
+kingdoms. To the literary journals, his contributions, both in prose and
+verse, were numerous and interesting. Many of his songs and ballads
+enriched the columns of the journal which he so long and ably conducted.
+In early life, he maintained a metrical correspondence with Thomas
+Telford, the celebrated engineer, who was a native of the same county,
+and whose earliest ambition was to earn the reputation of a poet.[22]
+
+Possessed of entire amiability of disposition, and the utmost amenity of
+manners, John Mayne was warmly beloved among the circle of his friends.
+Himself embued with a deep sense of religion, though fond of innocent
+humour, he preserved in all his writings a becoming respect for sound
+morals, and is entitled to the commendation which a biographer has
+awarded him, of having never committed to paper a single line "the
+tendency of which was not to afford innocent amusement, or to improve
+and increase the happiness of mankind." He was singularly modest and
+even retiring. His eulogy has been pronounced by Allan Cunningham, who
+knew him well, that "a better or warmer-hearted man never existed." The
+songs, of which we have selected the more popular, abound in vigour of
+expression and sentiment, and are pervaded by a genuine pathos.
+
+
+[21] See Note to "Lady of the Lake."
+
+[22] See the _Encyclopædia Britannica_, vol. xxi. p. 170.
+
+
+
+
+LOGAN BRAES.[23]
+
+
+ By Logan's streams, that rin sae deep,
+ Fu' aft wi' glee I've herded sheep,
+ I've herded sheep, or gather'd slaes,
+ Wi' my dear lad, on Logan braes.
+ But, waes my heart! thae days are gane,
+ And I wi' grief may herd alane;
+ While my dear lad maun face his faes,
+ Far, far frae me and Logan braes.
+
+ Nae mair at Logan kirk will he
+ Atween the preachings meet wi' me,
+ Meet wi' me, or, whan it's mirk,
+ Convoy me hame frae Logan kirk.
+ I weel may sing thae days are gane--
+ Frae kirk and fair I come alane,
+ While my dear lad maun face his faes,
+ Far, far frae me and Logan braes.
+
+ At e'en, when hope amaist is gane,
+ I daunder dowie and forlane;
+ I sit alane, beneath the tree
+ Where aft he kept his tryste wi' me.
+ Oh, could I see thae days again,
+ My lover skaithless, and my ain!
+ Beloved by friends, revered by faes,
+ We'd live in bliss on Logan braes.
+
+
+[23] This song originally consisted of two stanzas, the third stanza
+being subsequently added by the author. It is adapted to a beautiful old
+air, "Logan Water," incongruously connected with some indecorous
+stanzas. Burns deemed Mayne's version an elder production of the
+Scottish muse, and attempted to modernise the song, but his edition is
+decidedly inferior. Other four stanzas have been added, by some
+anonymous versifier, to Mayne's verses, which first appeared in Duncan's
+"Encyclopædia of Scottish, English, and Irish Songs," printed at Glasgow
+in 1836, 2 vols. 12mo. In those stanzas the lover is brought back to
+Logan braes, and consummates his union with his weeping shepherdess. The
+stream of Logan takes its rise among the hills separating the parishes
+of Lesmahago and Muirkirk, and, after a flow of eight miles, deposits
+its waters into the Nethan river.
+
+
+
+
+HELEN OF KIRKCONNEL.[24]
+
+
+ I wish I were where Helen lies,
+ For night and day on me she cries;
+ And, like an angel, to the skies
+ Still seems to beckon me!
+ For me she lived, for me she sigh'd,
+ For me she wish'd to be a bride;
+ For me in life's sweet morn she died
+ On fair Kirkconnel-Lee!
+
+ Where Kirtle waters gently wind,
+ As Helen on my arm reclined,
+ A rival with a ruthless mind
+ Took deadly aim at me.
+ My love, to disappoint the foe,
+ Rush'd in between me and the blow;
+ And now her corse is lying low,
+ On fair Kirkconnel-Lee!
+
+ Though Heaven forbids my wrath to swell,
+ I curse the hand by which she fell--
+ The fiend who made my heaven a hell,
+ And tore my love from me!
+ For if, when all the graces shine,
+ Oh! if on earth there 's aught divine,
+ My Helen! all these charms were thine,
+ They centred all in thee!
+
+ Ah! what avails it that, amain,
+ I clove the assassin's head in twain?
+ No peace of mind, my Helen slain,
+ No resting-place for me.
+ I see her spirit in the air--
+ I hear the shriek of wild despair,
+ When murder laid her bosom bare,
+ On fair Kirkconnel-Lee!
+
+ Oh! when I 'm sleeping in my grave,
+ And o'er my head the rank weeds wave,
+ May He who life and spirit gave
+ Unite my love and me!
+ Then from this world of doubts and sighs,
+ My soul on wings of peace shall rise,
+ And, joining Helen in the skies,
+ Forget Kirkconnel-Lee.
+
+
+[24] During the reign of Mary, Queen of Scots, a young lady, of great
+personal attractions and numerous accomplishments, named Helen Irving,
+daughter of Irving of Kirkconnel, in Annandale, was betrothed to Adam
+Fleming de Kirkpatrick, a young gentleman of fortune in the
+neighbourhood. Walking with her lover on the banks of the Kirtle, she
+was slain by a shot which had been aimed at Fleming by a disappointed
+rival. The melancholy history has been made the theme of three different
+ballads, two of these being old. The present ballad, by Mr Mayne, was
+inserted by Sir Walter Scott in the Edinburgh _Annual Register_ of 1815.
+
+
+
+
+THE WINTER SAT LANG.
+
+
+ The winter sat lang on the spring o' the year,
+ Our seedtime was late, and our mailing was dear;
+ My mither tint her heart when she look'd on us a',
+ And we thought upon those that were farest awa'.
+ Oh, were they but here that are farest awa'!
+ Oh, were they but here that are dear to us a'!
+ Our cares would seem light and our sorrow but sma',
+ If they were but here that are far frae us a'!
+
+ Last week, when our hopes were o'erclouded wi' fear,
+ And nae ane at hame the dull prospect to cheer;
+ Our Johnnie has written, frae far awa' parts,
+ A letter that lightens and hauds up our hearts.
+ He says, "My dear mither, though I be awa',
+ In love and affection I 'm still wi' ye a';
+ While I hae a being ye 'se aye hae a ha',
+ Wi' plenty to keep out the frost and the snaw."
+
+ My mither, o'erjoy'd at this change in her state,
+ By the bairn she doated on early and late,
+ Gi'es thanks night and day to the Giver of a',
+ There 's been naething unworthy o' him that 's awa'!
+ Then here is to them that are far frae us a',
+ The friend that ne'er fail'd us, though farest awa'!
+ Health, peace, and prosperity wait on us a';
+ And a blithe comin' hame to the friend that 's awa'!
+
+
+
+
+MY JOHNNIE.
+
+AIR--_"Johnnie's Gray Breeks."_
+
+
+ Jenny's heart was frank and free,
+ And wooers she had mony, yet
+ The sang was aye, "Of a' I see,
+ Commend me to my Johnnie yet.
+ For ear' and late, he has sic gate
+ To mak' a body cheerie, that
+ I wish to be, before I dee,
+ His ain kind dearie yet."
+
+ Now Jenny's face was fu' o' grace,
+ Her shape was sma' and genty-like,
+ And few or nane in a' the place,
+ Had gowd or gear mair plenty, yet
+ Though war's alarms, and Johnnie's charms,
+ Had gart her oft look eerie, yet
+ She sung wi' glee, "I hope to be
+ My Johnnie's ain dearie yet.
+
+ "What though he's now gane far awa',
+ Whare guns and cannons rattle, yet
+ Unless my Johnnie chance to fa'
+ In some uncanny battle, yet
+ Till he return my breast will burn
+ Wi' love that weel may cheer me yet,
+ For I hope to see, before I dee,
+ His bairns to him endear me yet."
+
+
+
+
+THE TROOPS WERE EMBARKED.
+
+
+ The troops were all embark'd on board,
+ The ships were under weigh,
+ And loving wives, and maids adored,
+ Were weeping round the bay.
+
+ They parted from their dearest friends,
+ From all their heart desires;
+ And Rosabel to Heaven commends
+ The man her soul admires!
+
+ For him she fled from soft repose,
+ Renounced a parent's care;
+ He sails to crush his country's foes,
+ She wanders in despair!
+
+ A seraph in an infant's frame
+ Reclined upon her arm;
+ And sorrow in the lovely dame
+ Now heighten'd every charm:
+
+ She thought, if fortune had but smiled--
+ She thought upon her dear;
+ But when she look'd upon his child,
+ Oh, then ran many a tear!
+
+ "Ah! who will watch thee as thou sleep'st?
+ Who 'll sing a lullaby,
+ Or rock thy cradle when thou weep'st,
+ If I should chance to die?"
+
+ On board the ship, resign'd to fate,
+ Yet planning joys to come,
+ Her love in silent sorrow sate
+ Upon a broken drum.
+
+ He saw her lonely on the beach;
+ He saw her on the strand;
+ And far as human eye can reach
+ He saw her wave her hand!
+
+ "O Rosabel! though forced to go,
+ With thee my soul shall dwell,
+ And Heaven, who pities human woe,
+ Will comfort Rosabel!"
+
+
+
+
+JOHN HAMILTON.
+
+
+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]
+
+
+ Cauld blaws the wind frae north to south;
+ The drift is drifting sairly;
+ The sheep are cow'rin' in the heuch;
+ Oh, sirs, it 's winter fairly!
+ Now, up in the mornin's no for me,
+ Up in the mornin' early;
+ I'd rather gae supperless to my bed
+ Than rise in the mornin' early.
+
+ Loud roars the blast amang the woods,
+ And tirls the branches barely;
+ On hill and house hear how it thuds!
+ The frost is nippin' sairly.
+ Now, up in the mornin's no for me,
+ Up in the mornin' early;
+ To sit a' nicht wad better agree
+ Than rise in the mornin' early.
+
+ The sun peeps ower yon southland hills,
+ Like ony timorous carlie;
+ Just blinks a wee, then sinks again;
+ And that we find severely.
+ Now, up in the mornin's no for me,
+ Up in the mornin' early;
+ When snaw blaws in at the chimley cheek,
+ Wha 'd rise in the mornin' early?
+
+ Nae linties lilt on hedge or bush:
+ Poor things! they suffer sairly;
+ In cauldrife quarters a' the nicht,
+ A' day they feed but sparely.
+ Now, up in the mornin's no for me,
+ Up in the mornin' early;
+ A pennyless purse I wad rather dree,
+ Than rise in the mornin' early.
+
+ A cosie house and canty wife
+ Aye keep a body cheerly;
+ And pantries stowed wi' meat and drink,
+ They answer unco rarely.
+ But up in the mornin'--na, na, na!
+ Up in the mornin' early!
+ The gowans maun glint on bank and brae
+ When I rise in the mornin' early.
+
+
+[25] Burns composed two verses to the same tune, which is very old. It
+was a favourite of Queen Mary, the consort of William III. In his
+"Beggar's Opera," Gay has adopted the tune for one of his songs. It was
+published, in 1652, by John Hilton, as the third voice to what is called
+a "Northern Catch" for three voices, beginning--"I'se gae wi' thee, my
+sweet Peggy."
+
+
+
+
+GO TO BERWICK, JOHNNIE.[26]
+
+
+ Go to Berwick, Johnnie;
+ Bring her frae the Border;
+ Yon sweet bonnie lassie,
+ Let her gae nae farther.
+ English loons will twine ye
+ O' the lovely treasure;
+ But we 'll let them ken
+ A sword wi' them we 'll measure.
+
+ Go to Berwick, Johnnie,
+ And regain your honour;
+ Drive them ower the Tweed,
+ And show our Scottish banner.
+ I am Rob, the King,
+ And ye are Jock, my brither;
+ But, before we lose her,
+ We 'll a' there thegither.
+
+
+[26] These stanzas are founded on some lines of old doggerel,
+beginning--
+
+ "Go, go, go,
+ Go to Berwick, Johnnie;
+ Thou shalt have the horse,
+ And I shall have the pony."
+
+
+
+
+
+
+MISS FORBES' FAREWELL TO BANFF.
+
+
+ Farewell, ye fields an' meadows green!
+ The blest retreats of peace an' love;
+ Aft have I, silent, stolen from hence,
+ With my young swain a while to rove.
+ Sweet was our walk, more sweet our talk,
+ Among the beauties of the spring;
+ An' aft we 'd lean us on a bank,
+ To hear the feather'd warblers sing.
+
+ The azure sky, the hills around,
+ Gave double beauty to the scene;
+ The lofty spires of Banff in view--
+ On every side the waving grain.
+ The tales of love my Jamie told,
+ In such a saft an' moving strain,
+ Have so engaged my tender heart,
+ I 'm loth to leave the place again.
+
+ But if the Fates will be sae kind
+ As favour my return once more,
+ For to enjoy the peace of mind
+ In those retreats I had before:
+ Now, farewell, Banff! the nimble steeds
+ Do bear me hence--I must away;
+ Yet time, perhaps, may bring me back,
+ To part nae mair from scenes so gay.
+
+
+
+
+TELL ME, JESSIE, TELL ME WHY?
+
+
+ Tell me, Jessie, tell me why
+ My fond suit you still deny?
+ Is your bosom cold as snow?
+ Did you never feel for woe?
+ Can you hear, without a sigh,
+ Him complain who for you could die?
+ If you ever shed a tear,
+ Hear me, Jessie, hear, O hear!
+
+ Life to me is not more dear
+ Than the hour brings Jessie here;
+ Death so much I do not fear
+ As the parting moment near.
+ Summer smiles are not so sweet
+ As the bloom upon your cheek;
+ Nor the crystal dew so clear
+ As your eyes to me appear.
+
+ These are part of Jessie's charms,
+ Which the bosom ever warms;
+ But the charms by which I 'm stung,
+ Come, O Jessie, from thy tongue!
+ Jessie, be no longer coy;
+ Let me taste a lover's joy;
+ With your hand remove the dart,
+ And heal the wound that 's in my heart.
+
+
+
+
+THE HAWTHORN.
+
+
+ Last midsummer's morning, as going to the fair,
+ I met with young Jamie, wh'as taking the air;
+ He ask'd me to stay with him, and indeed he did prevail,
+ Beneath the pretty hawthorn that blooms in the vale--
+ That blooms in the valley, that blooms in the vale,
+ Beneath the pretty hawthorn that blooms in the vale.
+
+ He said he had loved me both long and sincere,
+ That none on the green was so gentle and fair;
+ I listen'd with pleasure to Jamie's tender tale,
+ Beneath the pretty hawthorn that blooms in the vale--
+ That blooms in the valley, &c.
+
+ "Oh, haste," says he, "to hear the birds in the grove,
+ How charming their song, and enticing to love!
+ The briers that with roses perfume the passing gale,
+ And meet the pretty hawthorn that blooms in the vale"--
+ That blooms in the valley, &c.
+
+ His words were so moving, and looks soft and kind,
+ Convinced me the youth had nae guile in his mind;
+ My heart, too, confess'd him the flower of the dale,
+ Beneath the pretty hawthorn that blooms in the vale--
+ That blooms in the valley, &c.
+
+ Yet I oft bade him go, for I could no longer stay,
+ But leave me he would not, nor let me away;
+ Still pressing his suit, and at last did prevail,
+ Beneath the pretty hawthorn that blooms in the vale--
+ That blooms in the valley, &c.
+
+ Now tell me, ye maidens, how could I refuse?
+ His words were so sweet, and so binding his vows!
+ We went and were married, and Jamie loves me still,
+ And we live beside the hawthorn that blooms in the vale--
+ That blooms in the valley, that blooms in the vale,
+ We live beside the hawthorn that blooms in the vale.
+
+
+
+
+OH, BLAW, YE WESTLIN' WINDS![27]
+
+
+ Oh, blaw, ye westlin' winds, blaw saft
+ Amang the leafy trees!
+ Wi' gentle gale, frae muir and dale,
+ Bring hame the laden bees;
+ And bring the lassie back to me,
+ That 's aye sae neat and clean;
+ Ae blink of her wad banish care,
+ Sae lovely is my Jean.
+
+ What sighs and vows, amang the knowes,
+ Hae pass'd atween us twa!
+ How fain to meet, how wae to part,
+ That day she gaed awa'!
+ The Powers aboon can only ken,
+ To whom the heart is seen,
+ That nane can be sae dear to me
+ As my sweet, lovely Jean.
+
+
+[27] These verses were written as a continuation to Burns's "Of a' the
+airts the wind can blaw." Other two stanzas were added to the same song
+by W. Reid.--See _postea_.
+
+
+
+
+JOANNA BAILLIE.
+
+
+Joanna Baillie was born on the 11th of September 1762, in the manse of
+Bothwell, in Lanarkshire. Her father, Dr James Baillie, was descended
+from the old family of Baillie of Lamington, and was consequently
+entitled to claim propinquity with the distinguished Principal Robert
+Baillie, and the family of Baillie of Jerviswood, so celebrated for its
+Christian patriotism. The mother of Joanna likewise belonged to an
+honourable house: she was a descendant of the Hunters of Hunterston; and
+her two brothers attained a wide reputation in the world of science--Dr
+William Hunter being an eminent physician, and Mr John Hunter the
+greatest anatomist of his age. Joanna--a twin, the other child being
+still-born--was the youngest of a family of three children. Her only
+brother was Dr Matthew Baillie, highly distinguished in the medical
+world. Agnes, her sister, who was eldest of the family, remained
+unmarried, and continued to live with her under the same roof.
+
+In the year 1768, Dr Baillie was transferred from the parochial charge
+of Bothwell to the office of collegiate minister of Hamilton,--a town
+situate, like his former parish, on the banks of the Clyde. He was
+subsequently elected Professor of Divinity in the University of
+Glasgow. After his death, which took place in 1778, his daughters both
+continued, along with their widowed mother, to live at Long Calderwood,
+in the vicinity of Hamilton, until 1784, when they all accepted an
+invitation to reside with Dr Matthew Baillie, who had entered on his
+medical career in London, and had become possessor of a house in Great
+Windmill Street, built by his now deceased uncle, Dr Hunter.
+
+Though evincing no peculiar promptitude in the acquisition of learning,
+Joanna had, at the very outset of life, exhibited remarkable talent in
+rhyme-making. She composed verses before she could read, and, before she
+could have fancied a theatre, formed dialogues for dramatic
+representations, which she carried on with her companions. But she did
+not early seek distinction as an author. At the somewhat mature age of
+twenty-eight, after she had gone to London, she first published, and
+that anonymously, a volume of miscellaneous poems, which did not excite
+any particular attention. In 1798, she published, though anonymously at
+first, "A Series of Plays: in which it is attempted to delineate the
+stronger Passions of the Mind, each Passion being the subject of a
+Tragedy and a Comedy." In a lengthened preliminary dissertation, she
+discoursed regarding the drama in all its relations, maintaining the
+ascendency of simple nature over every species of adornment and
+decoration. "Let one simple trait of the human heart, one expression of
+passion, genuine and true to nature," she wrote, "be introduced, and it
+will stand forth alone in the boldness of reality, whilst the false and
+unnatural around it fades away upon every side, like the rising
+exhalations of the morning." The reception of these plays was sufficient
+to satisfy the utmost ambition of the author, and established the
+foundation of her fame. "Nothing to compare with them had been produced
+since the great days of the English drama; and the truth, vigour,
+variety, and dignity of the dramatic portraits, in which they abound,
+might well justify an enthusiasm which a reader of the present day can
+scarcely be expected to feel. This enthusiasm was all the greater, when
+it became known that these remarkable works, which had been originally
+published anonymously, were from the pen of a woman still young, who had
+passed her life in domestic seclusion."[28] Encouraged by the success of
+the first volume of her dramas on the "Passions," the author added a
+second in 1802, and a third in 1812. During the interval, she published
+a volume of miscellaneous dramas in 1804, and produced the "Family
+Legend" in 1810,--a tragedy, founded upon a Highland tradition. With a
+prologue by Sir Walter Scott, and an epilogue by Henry Mackenzie, the
+"Family Legend" was produced at the Edinburgh theatre, under the
+auspices of the former illustrious character; and was ably supported by
+Mrs Siddons, and by Terry, then at the commencement of his career. It
+was favourably received during ten successive performances. "You have
+only to imagine all that you could wish to give success to a play,"
+wrote Sir Walter Scott to the author, "and your conceptions will still
+fall short of the complete and decided triumph of the 'Family Legend.'
+The house was crowded to a most extraordinary degree; many people had
+come from your native capital of the west; everything that pretended to
+distinction, whether from rank or literature, was in the boxes; and in
+the pit, such an aggregate mass of humanity as I have seldom, if ever,
+witnessed in the same space." Other two of her plays, "Count Basil" and
+"De Montfort," brought out in London, the latter being sustained by
+Kemble and Siddons, likewise received a large measure of general
+approbation; but a want of variety of incident prevented their retaining
+a position on the stage. In 1836, she produced three additional volumes
+of dramas; her career as a dramatic writer thus extending over the
+period of nearly forty years.
+
+Subsequent to her leaving Scotland, in 1784, Joanna Baillie did not
+return to her native kingdom, unless on occasional visits. On the
+marriage of her brother to a sister of the Lord Chief-Justice Denman, in
+1791, she passed some years at Colchester; but she subsequently fixed
+her permanent habitation at Hampstead. Her mother died in 1806. At
+Hampstead, in the companionship of her only sister, whose virtues she
+has celebrated in one of her poems, and amidst the society of many of
+the more distinguished literary characters of the metropolis, she
+continued to enjoy a large amount of comfort and happiness. Her
+pecuniary means were sufficiently abundant, and rendered her entirely
+independent of the profits of her writings. Among her literary friends,
+one of the most valued was Sir Walter Scott, who, being introduced to
+her personal acquaintance on his visit to London in 1806, maintained
+with her an affectionate and lasting intimacy. The letters addressed to
+her are amongst the most interesting of his correspondence in his Memoir
+by his son-in-law. He evinced his estimation of her genius by frequently
+complimenting her in his works. In his "Epistle to William Erskine,"
+which forms the introduction to the third canto of "Marmion," he thus
+generously eulogises his gifted friend:--
+
+ "Or, if to touch such chord be thine,
+ Restore the ancient tragic line,
+ And emulate the notes that wrung
+ From the wild harp, which silent hung
+ By silver Avon's holy shore,
+ Till twice a hundred years roll'd o'er;
+ When she, the bold Enchantress, came,
+ With fearless hand and heart on flame!
+ From the pale willow snatch'd the treasure,
+ And swept it with a kindred measure,
+ Till Avon's swans, while rung the grove
+ With Montfort's hate and Basil's love,
+ Awakening at the inspiréd strain,
+ Deem'd their own Shakspeare lived again."
+
+To Joanna, Scott inscribed his fragmental drama of "Macduff's Cross,"
+which was included in a Miscellany published by her in 1823.
+
+Though a penury of incident, and a defectiveness of skill in sustaining
+an increasing interest to the close, will probably prevent any of her
+numerous plays from being renewed on the stage, Joanna Baillie is well
+entitled to the place assigned her as one of the first of modern
+dramatists. In all her plays there are passages and scenes surpassed by
+no contemporaneous dramatic writer. Her works are a magazine of eloquent
+thoughts and glowing descriptions. She is a mistress of the emotions,
+and
+
+ "Within _her_ mighty page,
+ Each tyrant passion shews his woe and rage."
+
+The tragedies of "Count Basil" and "De Montfort" are her best plays, and
+are well termed by Sir Walter Scott a revival of the great Bard of Avon.
+Forcible and energetic in style, her strain never becomes turgid or
+diverges into commonplace. She is masculine, but graceful; and powerful
+without any ostentation of strength. Her personal history was the
+counterpart of her writings. Gentle in manners and affable in
+conversation, she was a model of the household virtues, and would have
+attracted consideration as a woman by her amenities, though she had
+possessed no reputation in the world of letters. She was eminently
+religious and benevolent. Her countenance bore indication of a superior
+intellect and deep penetration. Though her society was much cherished by
+her contemporaries, including distinguished foreigners who visited the
+metropolis, her life was spent in general retirement. She was averse to
+public demonstration, and seemed scarcely conscious of her power. She
+died at Hampstead, on the 23d of February 1851, at the very advanced age
+of eighty-nine, and a few weeks after the publication of her whole Works
+in a collected form.
+
+The songs of Joanna Baillie immediately obtained an honourable place in
+the minstrelsy of her native kingdom. They are the simple and graceful
+effusions of a heart passionately influenced by the melodies of the
+"land of the heath and the thistle," and animated by those warm
+affections so peculiarly nurtured in the region of "the mountain and the
+flood." "Fy, let us a' to the wedding," "Saw ye Johnnie comin'?" "It
+fell on a morning when we were thrang," and "Woo'd, and married, and
+a'," maintain popularity among all classes of Scotsmen throughout the
+world. Several of the songs were written for Thomson's "Melodies," and
+"The Harp of Caledonia," a collection of songs published at Glasgow in
+1821, in three vols. 12mo, under the editorial care of John Struthers,
+author of "The Poor Man's Sabbath." The greater number are included in
+the present work.
+
+
+[28] _Literary Gazette_, March 1851.
+
+
+
+
+THE MAID OF LLANWELLYN.
+
+
+ I 've no sheep on the mountain, nor boat on the lake,
+ Nor coin in my coffer to keep me awake,
+ Nor corn in my garner, nor fruit on my tree--
+ Yet the maid of Llanwellyn smiles sweetly on me.
+
+ Soft tapping, at eve, to her window I came,
+ And loud bay'd the watch-dog, loud scolded the dame;
+ For shame, silly Lightfoot; what is it to thee,
+ Though the maid of Llanwellyn smiles sweetly on me?
+
+ Rich Owen will tell you, with eyes full of scorn,
+ Threadbare is my coat, and my hosen are torn:
+ Scoff on, my rich Owen, for faint is thy glee
+ When the maid of Llanwellyn smiles sweetly on me.
+
+ The farmer rides proudly to market or fair,
+ The clerk, at the alehouse, still claims the great chair;
+ But of all our proud fellows the proudest I 'll be,
+ While the maid of Llanwellyn smiles sweetly on me.
+
+ For blythe as the urchin at holiday play,
+ And meek as the matron in mantle of gray,
+ And trim as the lady of gentle degree,
+ Is the maid of Llanwellyn who smiles upon me.
+
+
+
+
+GOOD NIGHT, GOOD NIGHT!
+
+
+ The sun is sunk, the day is done,
+ E'en stars are setting one by one;
+ Nor torch nor taper longer may
+ Eke out the pleasures of the day;
+ And since, in social glee's despite,
+ It needs must be, Good night, good night!
+
+ The bride into her bower is sent,
+ And ribbald rhyme and jesting spent;
+ The lover's whisper'd words and few
+ Have bade the bashful maid adieu;
+ The dancing-floor is silent quite--
+ No foot bounds there, Good night, good night!
+
+ The lady in her curtain'd bed,
+ The herdsman in his wattled shed,
+ The clansman in the heather'd hall,
+ Sweet sleep be with you, one and all!
+ We part in hope of days as bright
+ As this now gone--Good night, good night!
+
+ Sweet sleep be with us, one and all!
+ And if upon its stillness fall
+ The visions of a busy brain,
+ We 'll have our pleasure o'er again;
+ To warm the heart, to charm the sight,
+ Gay dreams to all! Good night, good night!
+
+
+
+
+THOUGH RICHER SWAINS THY LOVE PURSUE.
+
+
+ Though richer swains thy love pursue,
+ In Sunday gear and bonnets new;
+ And every fair before thee lay
+ Their silken gifts, with colours gay--
+ They love thee not, alas! so well
+ As one who sighs, and dare not tell;
+ Who haunts thy dwelling, night and noon,
+ In tatter'd hose and clouted shoon.
+
+ I grieve not for my wayward lot,
+ My empty folds, my roofless cot;
+ Nor hateful pity, proudly shown,
+ Nor altered looks, nor friendship flown;
+ Nor yet my dog, with lanken sides,
+ Who by his master still abides;
+ But how wilt thou prefer my boon,
+ In tatter'd hose and clouted shoon?
+
+
+
+
+POVERTY PARTS GUDE COMPANIE.[29]
+
+AIR--_"Todlin' Hame."_
+
+
+ When white was my owrelay as foam of the linn,
+ And siller was chinking my pouches within;
+ When my lambkins were bleating on meadow and brae,
+ As I gaed to my love in new cleeding sae gay--
+ Kind was she, and my friends were free;
+ But poverty parts gude companie.
+
+ How swift pass'd the minutes and hours of delight!
+ The piper play'd cheerly, the cruisie burn'd bright;
+ And link'd in my hand was the maiden sae dear,
+ As she footed the floor in her holiday gear.
+ Woe is me! and can it then be,
+ That poverty parts sic companie?
+
+ We met at the fair, and we met at the kirk;
+ We met in the sunshine, we met in the mirk;
+ And the sound of her voice, and the blinks of her een,
+ The cheering and life of my bosom have been.
+ Leaves frae the tree at Martinmas flee,
+ And poverty parts sweet companie.
+
+ At bridal and in fair I 've braced me wi' pride,
+ The _bruse_ I hae won, and a kiss of the bride;
+ And loud was the laughter, gay fellows among,
+ When I utter'd my banter, or chorus'd my song.
+ Dowie to dree are jesting and glee,
+ When poverty parts gude companie.
+
+ Wherever I gaed the blythe lasses smiled sweet,
+ And mithers and aunties were mair than discreet,
+ While kebbuck and bicker were set on the board;
+ But now they pass by me, and never a word.
+ So let it be; for the worldly and slie
+ Wi' poverty keep nae companie.
+
+ But the hope of my love is a cure for its smart;
+ The spaewife has tauld me to keep up my heart;
+ For wi' my last sixpence her loof I hae cross'd,
+ And the bliss that is fated can never be lost.
+ Cruelly though we ilka day see
+ How poverty parts dear companie.
+
+
+[29] This song was written for Thomson's "Melodies." "Todlin' Hame," the
+air to which it is adapted, appears in Ramsay's "Tea-Table Miscellany"
+as an old song. The words begin--"When I hae a saxpence under my thum."
+Burns remarks that "it is perhaps one of the first bottle-songs that
+ever was composed."
+
+
+
+
+FY, LET US A' TO THE WEDDING.[30]
+
+
+ Fy, let us a' to the wedding,
+ For they will be lilting there;
+ For Jock's to be married to Maggie,
+ The lass wi' the gowden hair.
+ And there will be jilting and jeering,
+ And glancing of bonnie dark een;
+ Loud laughing and smooth-gabbit speering
+ O' questions, baith pawky and keen.
+
+ And there will be Bessy, the beauty,
+ Wha raises her cock-up sae hie,
+ And giggles at preachings and duty;
+ Gude grant that she gang nae ajee!
+ And there will be auld Geordie Tanner,
+ Wha coft a young wife wi' his gowd;
+ She 'll flaunt wi' a silk gown upon her,
+ But, wow! he looks dowie and cowed.
+
+ And braw Tibby Fowler, the heiress,
+ Will perk at the top o' the ha',
+ Encircled wi' suitors, whase care is
+ To catch up the gloves when they fa'.
+ Repeat a' her jokes as they 're cleckit,
+ And haver and glower in her face,
+ When tocherless Mays are negleckit--
+ A crying and scandalous case.
+
+ And Mysie, whase clavering aunty
+ Wad match her wi' Jamie, the laird;
+ And learns the young fouk to be vaunty,
+ But neither to spin nor to caird.
+ And Andrew, whase granny is yearning
+ To see him a clerical blade,
+ Was sent to the college for learning,
+ And cam' back a coof, as he gaed.
+
+ And there will be auld Widow Martin,
+ That ca's hersel' thretty and twa!
+ And thrawn-gabbit Madge, wha for certain
+ Was jilted by Hab o' the Shaw.
+ And Elspy, the sewster, sae genty--
+ A pattern of havens and sense--
+ Will straik on her mittens sae dainty,
+ And crack wi' Mess John in the spence.
+
+ And Angus, the seer o' ferlies,
+ That sits on the stane at his door,
+ And tells about bogles, and mair lies
+ Than tongue ever utter'd before.
+ And there will be Bauldy, the boaster,
+ Sae ready wi' hands and wi' tongue;
+ Proud Paty and silly Sam Foster,
+ Wha quarrel wi' auld and wi' young.
+
+ And Hugh, the town-writer, I 'm thinking,
+ That trades in his lawyerly skill,
+ Will egg on the fighting and drinking,
+ To bring after grist to his mill.
+ And Maggie--na, na! we 'll be civil,
+ And let the wee bridie abee;
+ A vilipend tongue it is evil,
+ And ne'er was encouraged by me.
+
+ Then fy, let us a' to the wedding,
+ For they will be lilting there,
+ Frae mony a far-distant ha'ding,
+ The fun and the feasting to share.
+ For they will get sheep's-head and haggis,
+ And browst o' the barley-mow;
+ E'en he that comes latest and lagis
+ May feast upon dainties enow.
+
+ Veal florentines, in the o'en baken,
+ Weel plenish'd wi' raisins and fat;
+ Beef, mutton, and chuckies, a' taken
+ Het reekin' frae spit and frae pat.
+ And glasses (I trow 'tis nae said ill)
+ To drink the young couple gude luck,
+ Weel fill'd wi' a braw beechen ladle,
+ Frae punch-bowl as big as Dumbuck.
+
+ And then will come dancing and daffing,
+ And reelin' and crossin' o' han's,
+ Till even auld Lucky is laughing,
+ As back by the aumry she stan's.
+ Sic bobbing, and flinging, and whirling,
+ While fiddlers are making their din;
+ And pipers are droning and skirling,
+ As loud as the roar o' the linn.
+
+ Then fy, let us a' to the wedding,
+ For they will be lilting there;
+ For Jock 's to be married to Maggie,
+ The lass wi' the gowden hair.
+
+
+[30] This song is a new version of "The Blythesome Bridal," beginning,
+"Fy, let us a' to the bridal," which first appeared in Watson's
+Collection, in 1706, and of which the authorship was generally assigned
+to Francis Semple of Beltrees, in Renfrewshire, who lived in the middle
+of the seventeenth century, though more recently it has been attributed
+to Sir William Scott of Thirlestane, in Selkirkshire, who flourished in
+the beginning of last century. The words of the original song are
+coarse, but humorous.
+
+
+
+
+HOOLY AND FAIRLY.[31]
+
+
+ Oh, neighbours! what had I to do for to marry?
+ My wife she drinks posset and wine o' Canary;
+ And ca's me a niggardly, thrawn-gabbit cairly.
+ O gin my wife wad drink hooly and fairly!
+ Hooly and fairly, hooly and fairly;
+ O gin my wife wad drink hooly and fairly!
+
+ She sups, wi' her kimmers, on dainties enow,
+ Aye bowing, and smirking, and wiping her mou';
+ While I sit aside, and am helpit but sparely.
+ O gin my wife wad feast hooly and fairly!
+ Hooly and fairly, hooly and fairly;
+ O gin my wife wad feast hooly and fairly!
+
+ To fairs, and to bridals, and preachings an' a',
+ She gangs sae light-headed, and buskit sae braw,
+ In ribbons and mantuas, that gar me gae barely.
+ O gin my wife wad spend hooly and fairly!
+ Hooly and fairly, hooly and fairly;
+ O gin my wife wad spend hooly and fairly!
+
+ I' the kirk sic commotion last Sabbath she made,
+ Wi' babs o' red roses, and breast-knots o'erlaid;
+ The dominie stickit the psalm very nearly.
+ O gin my wife wad dress hooly and fairly!
+ Hooly and fairly, hooly and fairly;
+ O gin my wife wad dress hooly and fairly!
+
+ She 's warring and flyting frae mornin' till e'en,
+ And if ye gainsay her, her een glower sae keen;
+ Then tongue, neive, and cudgel, she 'll lay on me sairly.
+ O gin my wife wad strike hooly and fairly!
+ Hooly and fairly, hooly and fairly;
+ O gin my wife wad strike hooly and fairly!
+
+ When tired wi' her cantrips, she lies in her bed--
+ The wark a' negleckit, the chalmer unred--
+ While a' our gude neighbours are stirring sae early.
+ O gin my wife wad wark timely and fairly!
+ Timely and fairly, timely and fairly;
+ O gin my wife wad wark timely and fairly!
+
+ A word o' gude counsel or grace she 'll hear none;
+ She bandies the elders, and mocks at Mess John;
+ While back in his teeth his own text she flings sairly.
+ O gin my wife wad speak hooly and fairly!
+ Hooly and fairly, hooly and fairly;
+ O gin my wife wad speak hooly and fairly!
+
+ I wish I were single, I wish I were freed;
+ I wish I were doited, I wish I were dead;
+ Or she in the mouls, to dement me nae mairly.
+ What does it 'vail to cry, Hooly and fairly!
+ Hooly and fairly, hooly and fairly;
+ Wasting my health to cry, Hooly and fairly.
+
+
+[31] The style of this song and the chorus are borrowed from "The
+Drucken Wife o' Gallowa'," a song which first appeared in the "Charmer,"
+a collection of songs, published at Edinburgh in 1751, but the
+authorship of which is unknown.
+
+
+
+
+THE WEARY PUND O' TOW.
+
+
+ A young gudewife is in my house,
+ And thrifty means to be,
+ But aye she 's runnin' to the town
+ Some ferlie there to see.
+ The weary pund, the weary pund, the weary pund o' tow,
+ I soothly think, ere it be spun, I 'll wear a lyart pow.
+
+ And when she sets her to her wheel,
+ To draw her threads wi' care,
+ In comes the chapman wi' his gear,
+ And she can spin nae mair.
+ The weary pund, &c.
+
+ And then like ony merry May,
+ At fairs maun still be seen,
+ At kirkyard preachings near the tent,
+ At dances on the green.
+ The weary pund, &c.
+
+ Her dainty ear a fiddle charms,
+ A bagpipe 's her delight,
+ But for the crooning o' her wheel
+ She disna care a mite.
+ The weary pund, &c.
+
+ "You spake, my Kate, of snaw-white webs
+ Made o' your hinkum twine,
+ But, ah! I fear our bonnie burn
+ Will ne'er lave web o' thine.
+ The weary pund, &c.
+
+ "Nay, smile again, my winsome mate,
+ Sic jeering means nae ill;
+ Should I gae sarkless to my grave,
+ I'll loe and bless thee still."
+ The weary pund, &c.
+
+
+
+
+THE WEE PICKLE TOW.[32]
+
+
+ A lively young lass had a wee pickle tow,
+ And she thought to try the spinnin' o't;
+ She sat by the fire, and her rock took alow,
+ And that was an ill beginnin' o't.
+ Loud and shrill was the cry that she utter'd, I ween;
+ The sudden mischanter brought tears to her een;
+ Her face it was fair, but her temper was keen;
+ O dole for the ill beginnin' o't!
+
+ She stamp'd on the floor, and her twa hands she wrung,
+ Her bonny sweet mou' she crookit, O!
+ And fell was the outbreak o' words frae her tongue;
+ Like ane sair demented she lookit, O!
+ "Foul fa' the inventor o' rock and o' reel!
+ I hope, gude forgi'e me! he 's now wi' the d--l,
+ He brought us mair trouble than help, wot I weel;
+ O dole for the ill beginnin' o't!
+
+ "And now, when they 're spinnin' and kempin' awa',
+ They 'll talk o' my rock and the burnin' o't,
+ While Tibbie, and Mysie, and Maggie, and a',
+ Into some silly joke will be turnin' it:
+ They 'll say I was doited, they 'll say I was fu';
+ They 'll say I was dowie, and Robin untrue;
+ They 'll say in the fire some luve-powther I threw,
+ And that made the ill beginning o't.
+
+ "O curst be the day, and unchancy the hour,
+ When I sat me adown to the spinnin' o't!
+ Then some evil spirit or warlock had power,
+ And made sic an ill beginnin' o't.
+ May Spunkie my feet to the boggie betray,
+ The lunzie folk steal my new kirtle away,
+ And Robin forsake me for douce Effie Gray,
+ The next time I try the spinnin' o't."
+
+
+[32] "The Wee Pickle Tow" is an old air, to which the words of this song
+were written.
+
+
+
+
+THE GOWAN GLITTERS ON THE SWARD.
+
+
+ The gowan glitters on the sward,
+ The lav'rock's in the sky,
+ And collie on my plaid keeps ward,
+ And time is passing by.
+ Oh, no! sad and slow,
+ And lengthen'd on the ground;
+ The shadow of our trysting bush
+ It wears so slowly round.
+
+ My sheep-bells tinkle frae the west,
+ My lambs are bleating near;
+ But still the sound that I lo'e best,
+ Alack! I canna hear.
+ Oh, no! sad and slow,
+ The shadow lingers still;
+ And like a lanely ghaist I stand,
+ And croon upon the hill.
+
+ I hear below the water roar,
+ The mill wi' clacking din,
+ And lucky scolding frae the door,
+ To ca' the bairnies in.
+ Oh, no! sad and slow,
+ These are nae sounds for me;
+ The shadow of our trysting bush
+ It creeps sae drearily!
+
+ I coft yestreen, frae chapman Tam,
+ A snood o' bonnie blue,
+ And promised, when our trysting cam',
+ To tie it round her brow.
+ Oh, no! sad and slow,
+ The mark it winna pass;
+ The shadow o' that dreary bush
+ Is tether'd on the grass.
+
+ O now I see her on the way!
+ She 's past the witch's knowe;
+ She 's climbing up the brownie's brae--
+ My heart is in a lowe.
+ Oh, no! 'tis not so,
+ 'Tis glamrie I hae seen;
+ The shadow o' that hawthorn bush
+ Will move nae mair till e'en.
+
+ My book o' grace I 'll try to read,
+ Though conn'd wi' little skill;
+ When collie barks I 'll raise my head,
+ And find her on the hill.
+ Oh, no! sad and slow,
+ The time will ne'er be gane;
+ The shadow o' our trysting bush
+ Is fix'd like ony stane.
+
+
+
+
+SAW YE JOHNNIE COMIN'?
+
+
+ "Saw ye Johnnie comin'?" quo' she;
+ "Saw ye Johnnie comin'?
+ Wi' his blue bonnet on his head,
+ And his doggie rinnin'.
+ Yestreen, about the gloamin' time,
+ I chanced to see him comin',
+ Whistling merrily the tune
+ That I am a' day hummin'," quo' she;
+ "I am a' day hummin'.
+
+ "Fee him, faither, fee him," quo' she;
+ "Fee him, faither, fee him;
+ A' the wark about the house
+ Gaes wi' me when I see him:
+ A' the wark about the house
+ I gang sae lightly through it;
+ And though ye pay some merks o' gear,
+ Hoot! ye winna rue it," quo' she;
+ "No; ye winna rue it."
+
+ "What wad I do wi' him, hizzy?
+ What wad I do wi' him?
+ He 's ne'er a sark upon his back,
+ And I hae nane to gi'e him."
+ "I hae twa sarks into my kist,
+ And ane o' them I 'll gi'e him;
+ And for a merk o' mair fee,
+ Oh, dinna stand wi' him," quo' she;
+ "Dinna stand wi' him.
+
+ "Weel do I lo'e him," quo' she;
+ "Weel do I lo'e him;
+ The brawest lads about the place
+ Are a' but hav'rels to him.
+ Oh, fee him, father; lang, I trow,
+ We 've dull and dowie been:
+ He 'll haud the plough, thrash i' the barn,
+ And crack wi' me at e'en," quo' she;
+ "Crack wi' me at e'en."
+
+
+
+
+IT FELL ON A MORNING.[33]
+
+
+ It fell on a morning when we were thrang--
+ Our kirn was gaun, our cheese was making,
+ And bannocks on the girdle baking--
+ That ane at the door chapp'd loud and lang;
+ But the auld gudewife, and her Mays sae tight,
+ Of this stirring and din took sma' notice, I ween;
+ For a chap at the door in braid daylight
+ Is no like a chap when heard at e'en.
+
+ Then the clocksie auld laird of the warlock glen,
+ Wha stood without, half cow'd, half cheerie.
+ And yearn'd for a sight of his winsome dearie,
+ Raised up the latch and came crousely ben.
+ His coat was new, and his owrelay was white,
+ And his hose and his mittens were coozy and bein;
+ But a wooer that comes in braid daylight
+ Is no like a wooer that comes at e'en.
+
+ He greeted the carlin' and lasses sae braw,
+ And his bare lyart pow he smoothly straikit,
+ And looked about, like a body half glaikit,
+ On bonny sweet Nanny, the youngest of a':
+ "Ha, ha!" quo' the carlin', "and look ye that way?
+ Hoot! let nae sic fancies bewilder ye clean--
+ An elderlin' man, i' the noon o' the day,
+ Should be wiser than youngsters that come at e'en."
+
+ "Na, na," quo' the pawky auld wife; "I trow
+ You 'll fash na your head wi' a youthfu' gilly,
+ As wild and as skeigh as a muirland filly;
+ Black Madge is far better and fitter for you."
+ He hem'd and he haw'd, and he screw'd in his mouth,
+ And he squeezed his blue bonnet his twa hands between;
+ For wooers that come when the sun 's in the south
+ Are mair awkward than wooers that come at e'en.
+
+ "Black Madge she is prudent." "What 's that to me?"
+ "She is eident and sober, has sense in her noddle--
+ Is douce and respeckit." "I carena a boddle;
+ I 'll baulk na my luve, and my fancy 's free."
+ Madge toss'd back her head wi' a saucy slight,
+ And Nanny run laughing out to the green;
+ For wooers that come when the sun shines bright
+ Are no like the wooers that come at e'en.
+
+ Awa' flung the laird, and loud mutter'd he,
+ "All the daughters of Eve, between Orkney and Tweed, O:
+ Black and fair, young and old, dame, damsel, and widow,
+ May gang, wi' their pride, to the wuddy for me."
+ But the auld gudewife, and her Mays sae tight,
+ For a' his loud banning cared little, I ween;
+ For a wooer that comes in braid daylight
+ Is no like a wooer that comes at e'en.
+
+
+[33] This song was contributed by Miss Baillie to "The Harp of
+Caledonia."
+
+
+
+
+WOO'D, AND MARRIED, AND A'.[34]
+
+
+ The bride she is winsome and bonnie,
+ Her hair it is snooded sae sleek;
+ And faithful and kind is her Johnnie,
+ Yet fast fa' the tears on her cheek.
+ New pearlings are cause o' her sorrow--
+ New pearlings and plenishing too;
+ The bride that has a' to borrow
+ Has e'en right muckle ado.
+ Woo'd, and married, and a';
+ Woo'd, and married, and a';
+ And is na she very weel aff,
+ To be woo'd, and married, and a'?
+
+ Her mither then hastily spak--
+ "The lassie is glaikit wi' pride;
+ In my pouches I hadna a plack
+ The day that I was a bride.
+ E'en tak to your wheel and be clever,
+ And draw out your thread in the sun;
+ The gear that is gifted, it never
+ Will last like the gear that is won.
+ Woo'd, and married, an' a',
+ Tocher and havings sae sma';
+ I think ye are very weel aff
+ To be woo'd, and married, and a'."
+
+ "Toot, toot!" quo' the gray-headed faither;
+ "She 's less of a bride than a bairn;
+ She 's ta'en like a cowt frae the heather,
+ Wi' sense and discretion to learn.
+ Half husband, I trow, and half daddy,
+ As humour inconstantly leans;
+ A chiel maun be constant and steady,
+ That yokes wi' a mate in her teens.
+ Kerchief to cover so neat,
+ Locks the winds used to blaw;
+ I 'm baith like to laugh and to greet,
+ When I think o' her married at a'."
+
+ Then out spak the wily bridegroom,
+ Weel waled were his wordies, I ween,--
+ "I 'm rich, though my coffer be toom,
+ Wi' the blinks o' your bonnie blue een;
+ I 'm prouder o' thee by my side,
+ Though thy ruffles or ribbons be few,
+ Than if Kate o' the Craft were my bride,
+ Wi' purples and pearlings enew.
+ Dear and dearest of ony,
+ I 've woo'd, and bookit, and a';
+ And do you think scorn o' your Johnnie,
+ And grieve to be married at a'?"
+
+ She turn'd, and she blush'd, and she smiled,
+ And she lookit sae bashfully down;
+ The pride o' her heart was beguiled,
+ And she play'd wi' the sleeve o' her gown;
+ She twirl'd the tag o' her lace,
+ And she nippit her boddice sae blue;
+ Syne blinkit sae sweet in his face,
+ And aff like a maukin she flew.
+ Woo'd, and married, and a',
+ Married and carried awa';
+ She thinks hersel' very weel aff,
+ To be woo'd, and married, and a'.
+
+
+[34] Of the song, "Woo'd, and married, and a'," there is another
+version, published in Johnson's "Musical Museum," vol. i. p. 10, which
+was long popular among the ballad-singers. This was composed by
+Alexander Ross, schoolmaster of Lochlee, author of "Helenore, or the
+Fortunate Shepherdess." A song, having a similar commencement, had
+previously been current on the Border.
+
+
+
+
+WILLIAM DUDGEON.
+
+
+Though the author of a single popular song, William Dudgeon is entitled
+to a place among the modern contributors to the Caledonian minstrelsy.
+Of his personal history, only a very few facts have been recovered. He
+was the son of a farmer in East-Lothian, and himself rented an extensive
+farm at Preston, in Berwickshire. During his border tour in May 1787,
+the poet Burns met him at Berrywell, the residence of the father of his
+friend Mr Robert Ainslie, who acted as land-steward on the estate of
+Lord Douglas in the Merse. In his journal, Burns has thus recorded his
+impression of the meeting:--"A Mr Dudgeon, a poet at times, a worthy,
+remarkable character, natural penetration, a great deal of information,
+some genius, and extreme modesty." Dudgeon died in October 1813, about
+his sixtieth year.
+
+
+
+
+UP AMONG YON CLIFFY ROCKS.
+
+
+ Up among yon cliffy rocks
+ Sweetly rings the rising echo,
+ To the maid that tends the goats
+ Lilting o'er her native notes.
+ Hark, she sings, "Young Sandy 's kind,
+ An' he 's promised aye to lo'e me;
+ Here 's a brooch I ne'er shall tine,
+ Till he 's fairly married to me.
+ Drive away, ye drone, Time,
+ And bring about our bridal day.
+
+ "Sandy herds a flock o' sheep;
+ Aften does he blaw the whistle
+ In a strain sae saftly sweet,
+ Lammies list'ning daurna bleat.
+ He 's as fleet 's the mountain roe,
+ Hardy as the Highland heather,
+ Wading through the winter snow,
+ Keeping aye his flock together;
+ But a plaid, wi' bare houghs,
+ He braves the bleakest norlan' blast.
+
+ "Brawly can he dance and sing,
+ Canty glee or Highland cronach;
+ Nane can ever match his fling,
+ At a reel or round a ring,
+ In a brawl he 's aye the bangster:
+ A' his praise can ne'er be sung
+ By the langest-winded sangster;
+ Sangs that sing o' Sandy,
+ Seem short, though they were e'er sae lang."
+
+
+
+
+WILLIAM REID.
+
+
+William Reid was born at Glasgow on the 10th of April 1764. His father,
+a baker by trade, was enabled to give him a good education at the school
+of his native city. At an early age he was apprenticed to Messrs Dunlop
+and Wilson, booksellers; and in the year 1790, along with another
+enterprising individual, he commenced a bookselling establishment, under
+the firm of "Brash and Reid." In this business, both partners became
+eminently successful, their shop being frequented by the _literati_ of
+the West. The poet Burns cultivated the society of Mr Reid, who proved a
+warm friend, as he was an ardent admirer, of the Ayrshire bard. He was
+an enthusiastic patron of literature, was fond of social humour, and a
+zealous promoter of the interests of Scottish song. Between 1795 and
+1798, the firm published in numbers, at one penny each, "Poetry,
+Original and Selected," which extended to four volumes. To this
+publication, both Mr Reid, and his partner, Mr Brash, made some original
+contributions. The work is now very scarce, and is accounted valuable by
+collectors. Mr Reid died at Glasgow, on the 29th of November 1831,
+leaving a widow and a family.
+
+
+
+
+THE LEA RIG.[35]
+
+
+ Will ye gang o'er the lea rig,
+ My ain kind dearie, O!
+ And cuddle there fu' kindly
+ Wi' me, my kind dearie, O!
+ At thorny bush, or birken tree,
+ We 'll daff and never weary, O!
+ They 'll scug ill een frae you and me,
+ My ain kind dearie, O!
+
+ Nae herds wi' kent or colly there,
+ Shall ever come to fear ye, O!
+ But lav'rocks, whistling in the air,
+ Shall woo, like me, their dearie, O!
+ While ithers herd their lambs and ewes,
+ And toil for warld's gear, my jo,
+ Upon the lea my pleasure grows,
+ Wi' thee, my kind dearie, O!
+
+ At gloamin', if my lane I be,
+ Oh, but I'm wondrous eerie, O!
+ And mony a heavy sigh I gie,
+ When absent frae my dearie, O!
+ But seated 'neath the milk-white thorn,
+ In ev'ning fair and clearie, O!
+ Enraptured, a' my cares I scorn,
+ When wi' my kind dearie, O!
+
+ Whare through the birks the burnie rows,
+ Aft hae I sat fu' cheerie, O!
+ Upon the bonny greensward howes,
+ Wi' thee, my kind dearie, O!
+ I've courted till I've heard the craw
+ Of honest chanticleerie, O!
+ Yet never miss'd my sleep ava,
+ Whan wi' my kind dearie, O!
+
+ For though the night were ne'er sae dark,
+ And I were ne'er sae weary, O!
+ I'd meet thee on the lea rig,
+ My ain kind dearie, O!
+ While in this weary world of wae,
+ This wilderness sae dreary, O!
+ What makes me blythe, and keeps me sae?
+ 'Tis thee, my kind dearie, O!
+
+
+[35] The two first stanzas of this song are the composition of the
+gifted and unfortunate Robert Fergusson. It is founded on an older
+ditty, beginning, "I'll rowe thee o'er the lea-rig." See Johnson's
+"Musical Museum," vol. iv. p. 53.
+
+
+
+
+JOHN ANDERSON, MY JO.[36]
+
+
+ John Anderson, my jo, John,
+ I wonder what ye mean,
+ To rise sae early in the morn,
+ And sit sae late at e'en;
+ Ye 'll blear out a' your een, John,
+ And why should you do so?
+ Gang sooner to your bed at e'en,
+ John Anderson, my jo.
+
+ John Anderson, my jo, John,
+ When Nature first began
+ To try her canny hand, John,
+ Her masterpiece was man;
+ And you amang them a', John,
+ Sae trig frae tap to toe--
+ She proved to be nae journeyman,
+ John Anderson, my jo.
+
+ John Anderson, my jo, John,
+ Ye were my first conceit;
+ And ye needna think it strange, John,
+ That I ca' ye trim and neat;
+ Though some folks say ye 're auld, John,
+ I never think ye so;
+ But I think ye 're aye the same to me,
+ John Anderson, my jo.
+
+ John Anderson, my jo, John,
+ We 've seen our bairns' bairns;
+ And yet, my dear John Anderson,
+ I 'm happy in your arms;
+ And sae are ye in mine, John,
+ I 'm sure ye 'll ne'er say, No;
+ Though the days are gane that we have seen,
+ John Anderson, my jo.
+
+
+[36] These stanzas are in continuation of Burns's song, "John Anderson,
+my jo." Five other stanzas have been added to the continuation by some
+unknown hand, which will be found in the "Book of Scottish Song," p. 54.
+Glasgow, 1853.
+
+
+
+
+FAIR, MODEST FLOWER.
+
+TUNE--_"Ye Banks and Braes o' bonnie Doon."_
+
+
+ Fair, modest flower, of matchless worth!
+ Thou sweet, enticing, bonny gem;
+ Blest is the soil that gave thee birth,
+ And bless'd thine honour'd parent stem.
+ But doubly bless'd shall be the youth
+ To whom thy heaving bosom warms;
+ Possess'd of beauty, love, and truth,
+ He 'll clasp an angel in his arms.
+
+ Though storms of life were blowing snell,
+ And on his brow sat brooding care,
+ Thy seraph smile would quick dispel
+ The darkest gloom of black despair.
+ Sure Heaven hath granted thee to us,
+ And chose thee from the dwellers there;
+ And sent thee from celestial bliss,
+ To shew what all the virtues are.
+
+
+
+
+KATE O' GOWRIE.[37]
+
+TUNE--_"Locherroch Side."_
+
+
+ When Katie was scarce out nineteen,
+ Oh, but she had twa coal-black een!
+ A bonnier lass ye wadna seen
+ In a' the Carse o' Gowrie.
+ Quite tired o' livin' a' his lane,
+ Pate did to her his love explain,
+ And swore he 'd be, were she his ain,
+ The happiest lad in Gowrie.
+
+ Quo' she, "I winna marry thee,
+ For a' the gear that ye can gi'e;
+ Nor will I gang a step ajee,
+ For a' the gowd in Gowrie.
+ My father will gi'e me twa kye;
+ My mother 's gaun some yarn to dye;
+ I 'll get a gown just like the sky,
+ Gif I 'll no gang to Gowrie."
+
+ "Oh, my dear Katie, say nae sae!
+ Ye little ken a heart that 's wae;
+ Hae! there 's my hand; hear me, I pray,
+ Sin' thou 'lt no gang to Gowrie:
+ Since first I met thee at the shiel,
+ My saul to thee 's been true and leal;
+ The darkest night I fear nae deil,
+ Warlock, or witch in Gowrie.
+
+ "I fear nae want o' claes nor nocht,
+ Sic silly things my mind ne'er taught;
+ I dream a' nicht, and start about,
+ And wish for thee in Gowrie.
+ I lo'e thee better, Kate, my dear,
+ Than a' my rigs and out-gaun gear;
+ Sit down by me till ance I swear,
+ Thou 'rt worth the Carse o' Gowrie."
+
+ Syne on her mou' sweet kisses laid,
+ Till blushes a' her cheeks o'erspread;
+ She sigh'd, and in soft whispers said,
+ "Oh, Pate, tak me to Gowrie!"
+ Quo' he, "Let 's to the auld folk gang;
+ Say what they like, I 'll bide their bang,
+ And bide a' nicht, though beds be thrang;
+ But I 'll hae thee to Gowrie."
+
+ The auld folk syne baith gi'ed consent;
+ The priest was ca'd: a' were content;
+ And Katie never did repent
+ That she gaed hame to Gowrie.
+ For routh o' bonnie bairns had she;
+ Mair strappin' lads ye wadna see;
+ And her braw lasses bore the gree
+ Frae a' the rest o' Gowrie.
+
+
+[37] See _postea_, in this volume, under article "Lady Nairn."
+
+
+
+
+UPON THE BANKS O' FLOWING CLYDE.[38]
+
+
+ Upon the banks o' flowing Clyde
+ The lasses busk them braw;
+ But when their best they hae put on,
+ My Jeanie dings them a';
+ In hamely weeds she far exceeds
+ The fairest o' the toun;
+ Baith sage and gay confess it sae,
+ Though drest in russit goun.
+
+ The gamesome lamb that sucks its dam,
+ Mair harmless canna be;
+ She has nae faut, if sic ye ca't,
+ Except her love for me;
+ The sparkling dew, o' clearest hue,
+ Is like her shining een;
+ In shape and air wha can compare,
+ Wi' my sweet lovely Jean.
+
+
+[38] These two stanzas were written as a continuation of Burns's popular
+song, "Of a' the airts the wind can blaw." Two other stanzas were added
+by John Hamilton. See _ante_, p. 124.
+
+
+
+
+ALEXANDER CAMPBELL.
+
+
+A miscellaneous writer, a poet, and a musical composer, Alexander
+Campbell first saw the light at Tombea, on the banks of Loch Lubnaig, in
+Perthshire. He was born in 1764, and received such education as his
+parents could afford him, which was not very ample, at the parish school
+of Callander. An early taste for music induced him to proceed to
+Edinburgh, there to cultivate a systematic acquaintance with the art.
+Acquiring a knowledge of the science under the celebrated Tenducci and
+others, he became himself a teacher of the harpsichord and of vocal
+music, in the metropolis. As an upholder of Jacobitism, when it was
+scarcely to be dreaded as a political offence, he officiated as organist
+in a non-juring chapel in the vicinity of Nicolson Street; and while so
+employed had the good fortune to form the acquaintance of Burns, who was
+pleased to discover in an individual entertaining similar state
+sentiments with himself, an enthusiastic devotion to national melody and
+song.
+
+Mr Campbell was twice married; his second wife was the widow of a
+Highland gentleman, and he was induced to hope that his condition might
+thus be permanently improved. He therefore relinquished his original
+vocation, and commenced the study of physic, with the view of obtaining
+an appointment as surgeon in the public service; but his sanguine hopes
+proved abortive, and, to complete his mortification, his wife left him
+in Edinburgh, and sought a retreat in the Highlands. He again procured
+some employment as a teacher of music; and about the year 1810, one of
+his expedients was to give lessons in drawing. He was a man of a fervent
+spirit, and possessed of talents, which, if they had been adequately
+cultivated, and more concentrated, might have enabled him to attain
+considerable distinction; but, apparently aiming at the reputation of
+universal genius, he alternately cultivated the study of music, poetry,
+painting, and physic. At a more recent period, Sir Walter Scott found
+him occasional employment in transcribing manuscripts; and during the
+unhappy remainder of his life he had to struggle with many difficulties.
+
+One of his publications bears the title of "Odes and Miscellaneous
+Poems, by a Student of Medicine in the University of Edinburgh,"
+Edinburgh, 1790, 4to. These lucubrations, which attracted no share of
+public attention, were followed by "The Guinea Note, a Poem, by Timothy
+Twig, Esquire," Edinburgh, 1797, 4to. His next work is entitled, "An
+Introduction to the History of Poetry in Scotland, with Illustrations by
+David Allan," Edinburgh, 1798, 4to. This work, though written in a
+rambling style, contains a small proportion of useful materials very
+unskilfully digested. "A Dialogue on Scottish Music," prefixed, had the
+merit of conveying to Continental musicians for the first time a correct
+acquaintance with the Scottish scale, the author receiving the
+commendations of the greatest Italian and German composers. The work
+likewise contains "Songs of the Lowlands," a selection of some of the
+more interesting specimens of the older minstrelsy. In 1802 he published
+"A Tour from Edinburgh through various parts of North Britain," in two
+volumes quarto, illustrated with engravings from sketches executed by
+himself. This work met with a favourable reception, and has been
+regarded as the most successful of his literary efforts. In 1804 he
+sought distinction as a poet by giving to the world "The Grampians
+Desolate," a long poem, in one volume octavo. In this production he
+essays "to call the attention of good men, wherever dispersed throughout
+our island, to the manifold and great evils arising from the
+introduction of that system which has within these last forty years
+spread among the Grampians and Western Isles, and is the leading cause
+of a depopulation that threatens to extirpate the ancient race of the
+inhabitants of those districts." That system to which Mr Campbell
+refers, he afterwards explains to be the monopoly of sheep-stores, a
+subject scarcely poetical, but which he has contrived to clothe with
+considerable smoothness of versification. The last work which issued
+from Mr Campbell's pen was "Albyn's Anthology, a Select Collection of
+the Melodies and Vocal Poetry Peculiar to Scotland and the Isles,
+hitherto Unpublished." The publication appeared in 1816, in two parts,
+of elegant folio. It was adorned by the contributions of Sir Walter
+Scott, James Hogg, and other poets of reputation. The preface contains
+"An Epitome of the History of Scottish Poetry and Music from the
+Earliest Times." His musical talents have a stronger claim to
+remembrance than either his powers as a poet or his skill as a writer.
+Yet his industry was unremitted, and his researches have proved
+serviceable to other writers who have followed him on the same themes.
+Only a few lyrical pieces proceeded from his pen; these were first
+published in "Albyn's Anthology." From this work we have extracted two
+specimens.
+
+Mr Campbell died of apoplexy on the 15th of May 1824, after a life much
+chequered by misfortune. He left various MSS. on subjects connected with
+his favourite studies, which have fortunately found their way into the
+possession of Mr Laing, to whom the history of Scottish poetry is
+perhaps more indebted than to any other living writer. The poems in this
+collection, though bearing marks of sufficient elaboration, could not be
+recommended for publication. Mr Campbell was understood to be a
+contributor to _The Ghost_, a forgotten periodical, which ran a short
+career in the year 1790. It was published in Edinburgh twice a week, and
+reached the forty-sixth number; the first having appeared on the 25th of
+April, the last on the 16th of November. He published an edition of a
+book, curious in its way--Donald Mackintosh's "Collection of Gaelic
+Proverbs, and Familiar Phrases; Englished anew!" Edinburgh, 1819, 12mo.
+The preface contains a characteristic account of the compiler, who
+described himself as "a priest of the old Scots Episcopal Church, and
+last of the non-jurant clergy in Scotland."
+
+
+
+
+NOW WINTER'S WIND SWEEPS.
+
+
+ Now winter's wind sweeps o'er the mountains,
+ Deeply clad in drifting snow;
+ Soundly sleep the frozen fountains;
+ Ice-bound streams forget to flow:
+ The piercing blast howls loud and long,
+ The leafless forest oaks among.
+
+ Down the glen, lo! comes a stranger,
+ Wayworn, drooping, all alone;--
+ Haply, 'tis the deer-haunt Ranger!
+ But alas! his strength is gone!
+ He stoops, he totters on with pain,
+ The hill he 'll never climb again.
+
+ Age is being's winter season,
+ Fitful, gloomy, piercing cold;
+ Passion weaken'd, yields to reason,
+ Man feels _then_ himself grown old;
+ His senses one by one have fled,
+ His very soul seems almost dead.
+
+
+
+
+THE HAWK WHOOPS ON HIGH.
+
+
+ The hawk whoops on high, and keen, keen from yon' cliff,
+ Lo! the eagle on watch eyes the stag cold and stiff;
+ The deer-hound, majestic, looks lofty around,
+ While he lists with delight to the harp's distant sound;
+ Is it swept by the gale, as it slow wafts along
+ The heart-soothing tones of an olden times' song?
+ Or is it some Druid who touches, unseen,
+ "The Harp of the North," newly strung now I ween?
+
+ 'Tis Albyn's own minstrel! and, proud of his name,
+ He proclaims him chief bard, and immortal his fame!--
+ He gives tongue to those wild lilts that ravish'd of old,
+ And soul to the tales that so oft have been told;
+ Hence Walter the Minstrel shall flourish for aye,
+ Will breathe in sweet airs, and live long as his "Lay;"
+ To ages unnumber'd thus yielding delight,
+ Which will last till the gloaming of Time's endless night.
+
+
+
+
+MRS DUGALD STEWART.
+
+
+Helen D'Arcy Cranstoun, the second wife of the celebrated Professor
+Stewart, is entitled to a more ample notice in a work on Modern Scottish
+Song than the limited materials at our command enable us to supply. She
+was the third daughter of the Hon. George Cranstoun, youngest son of
+William, fifth Lord Cranstoun. She was born in the year 1765, and became
+the wife of Professor Dugald Stewart on the 26th July 1790. Having
+survived her husband ten years, she died at Warriston House, in the
+neighbourhood of Edinburgh, on the 28th of July 1838. She was the sister
+of the Countess Purgstall (the subject of Captain Basil Hall's "Schloss
+Hainfeld"), and of George Cranstoun, a senator of the College of
+Justice, by the title of Lord Corehouse.
+
+The following pieces from the pen of the accomplished author are replete
+with simple beauty and exquisite tenderness.
+
+
+
+
+THE TEARS I SHED MUST EVER FALL.
+
+TUNE--_"Ianthe the Lovely."_
+
+
+ The tears I shed must ever fall:
+ I mourn not for an absent swain;
+ For thoughts may past delights recall,
+ And parted lovers meet again.
+ I weep not for the silent dead:
+ Their toils are past, their sorrows o'er;
+ And those they loved their steps shall tread,
+ And death shall join to part no more.
+
+ Though boundless oceans roll'd between,
+ If certain that his heart is near,
+ A conscious transport glads each scene,
+ Soft is the sigh and sweet the tear.
+ E'en when by death's cold hand removed,
+ We mourn the tenant of the tomb,
+ To think that e'en in death he loved,
+ Can gild the horrors of the gloom.
+
+ But bitter, bitter are the tears
+ Of her who slighted love bewails;
+ No hope her dreary prospect cheers,
+ No pleasing melancholy hails.
+ Hers are the pangs of wounded pride,
+ Of blasted hope, of wither'd joy;
+ The flattering veil is rent aside,
+ The flame of love burns to destroy.
+
+ In vain does memory renew
+ The hours once tinged in transport's dye;
+ The sad reverse soon starts to view,
+ And turns the past to agony.
+ E'en time itself despairs to cure
+ Those pangs to every feeling due:
+ Ungenerous youth! thy boast how poor,
+ To win a heart, and break it too!
+
+ No cold approach, no alter'd mien,
+ Just what would make suspicion start;
+ No pause the dire extremes between--
+ He made me blest, and broke my heart:[39]
+ From hope, the wretched's anchor, torn,
+ Neglected and neglecting all;
+ Friendless, forsaken, and forlorn,
+ The tears I shed must ever fall.
+
+
+[39] The four first lines of the last stanza are by Burns.
+
+
+
+
+RETURNING SPRING, WITH GLADSOME RAY.[40]
+
+
+ Returning spring, with gladsome ray,
+ Adorns the earth and smoothes the deep:
+ All nature smiles, serene and gay,
+ It smiles, and yet, alas! I weep.
+
+ But why, why flows the sudden tear,
+ Since Heaven such precious boons has lent,
+ The lives of those who life endear,
+ And, though scarce competence, content?
+
+ Sure, when no other bliss was mine
+ Than that which still kind Heaven bestows,
+ Yet then could peace and hope combine
+ To promise joy and give repose.
+
+ Then have I wander'd o'er the plain,
+ And bless'd each flower that met my view;
+ Thought Fancy's power would ever reign,
+ And Nature's charms be ever new.
+
+ I fondly thought where Virtue dwelt,
+ That happy bosom knew no ill--
+ That those who scorn'd me, time would melt,
+ And those I loved be faultless still.
+
+ Enchanting dreams! kind was your art
+ That bliss bestow'd without alloy;
+ Or if soft sadness claim'd a part,
+ 'Twas sadness sweeter still than joy.
+
+ Oh! whence the change that now alarms,
+ Fills this sad heart and tearful eye,
+ And conquers the once powerful charms
+ Of youth, of hope, of novelty?
+
+ 'Tis sad Experience, fatal power!
+ That clouds the once illumined sky,
+ That darkens life's meridian hour,
+ And bids each fairy vision fly.
+
+ She paints the scene--how different far
+ From that which youthful fancy drew!
+ Shews joy and freedom oft at war,
+ Our woes increased, our comforts few.
+
+ And when, perhaps, on some loved friend
+ Our treasured fondness we bestow,
+ Oh! can she not, with ruthless hand,
+ Change even that friend into a foe?
+
+ See in her train cold Foresight move,
+ Shunning the rose to 'scape the thorn;
+ And Prudence every fear approve,
+ And Pity harden into scorn!
+
+ The glowing tints of Fancy fade,
+ Life's distant prospects charm no more;
+ Alas! are all my hopes betray'd?
+ Can nought my happiness restore?
+
+ Relentless power! at length be just,
+ Thy better skill alone impart;
+ Give Caution, but withhold Distrust,
+ And guard, but harden not, my heart!
+
+
+[40] These tender and beautiful verses are transcribed from Johnson's
+"Musical Museum," in a note to which they were first published by the
+editor, Mr David Laing. He remarks that he "has reason to believe" that
+they are from the pen of Mrs Stewart. (See Johnson's "Musical Museum,"
+vol. iv. p. 366, _new edition_. Edinburgh, 1853.)
+
+
+
+
+ALEXANDER WILSON.
+
+
+The author of the celebrated "American Ornithology" is entitled to an
+honourable commemoration as one of the minstrels of his native land.
+Alexander Wilson was born at Paisley on the 6th of July 1766. His father
+had for some time carried on a small trade as a distiller; but the son
+was destined by his parents for the clerical profession, in the National
+Church--a scheme which was frustrated by the death of his mother in his
+tenth year, leaving a large family of children to the sole care of his
+father. He had, however, considerably profited by the instruction
+already received at school; and having derived from his mother a taste
+for music and a relish for books, he invoked the muse in solitude, and
+improved his mind by miscellaneous reading. His father contracted a
+second marriage when Alexander had reached his thirteenth year; and it
+became necessary that he should prepare himself for entering upon some
+handicraft employment. He became an apprentice to his brother-in-law,
+William Duncan, a weaver in his native town; and on completing his
+indenture, he wrought as a journeyman, during the three following years,
+in the towns of Paisley, Lochwinnoch, and Queensferry. But the
+occupation of weaving, which had from the first been unsuitable to his
+tastes, growing altogether irksome, he determined to relinquish it for a
+vocation which, if in some respects scarcely more desirable, afforded
+him ample means of gratifying his natural desire of becoming familiar
+with the topography of his native country. He provided himself with a
+pack, as a pedlar, and in this capacity, in company with his
+brother-in-law, continued for three years to lead a wandering life. His
+devotedness to verse-making had continued unabated from boyhood; he had
+written verses at the loom, and had become an enthusiastic votary of the
+muse during his peregrinations with his pack. He was now in his
+twenty-third year; and with the buoyancy of ardent youth, he thought of
+offering to the public a volume of his poems by subscription. In this
+attempt he was not successful; nor would any bookseller listen to
+proposals of publishing the lucubrations of an obscure pedlar. In 1790,
+he at length contrived to print his poems at Paisley, on his own
+account, in the hope of being able to dispose of them along with his
+other wares. But this attempt was not more successful than his original
+scheme, so that he was compelled to return to his father's house at
+Lochwinnoch, and resume the obnoxious shuttle. His aspirations for
+poetical distinction were not, however, subdued; he heard of the
+institution of the _Forum_, a debating society established in Edinburgh
+by some literary aspirants, and learning, in 1791, that an early subject
+of discussion was the comparative merits of Ramsay and Fergusson as
+Scottish poets, he prepared to take a share in the competition. By
+doubling his hours of labour at the loom, he procured the means of
+defraying his travelling expenses; and, arriving in time for the debate
+in the _Forum_, he repeated a poem which he had prepared, entitled the
+"Laurel Disputed," in which he gave the preference to Fergusson. He
+remained several weeks in Edinburgh, and printed his poem. To Dr
+Anderson's "Bee" he contributed several poems, and a prose essay,
+entitled "The Solitary Philosopher." Finding no encouragement to settle
+in the metropolis, he once more returned to his father's house in the
+west. He now formed the acquaintance of Robert Burns, who testified his
+esteem for him both as a man and a poet. In 1792, he published
+anonymously his popular ballad of "Watty and Meg," which he had the
+satisfaction to find regarded as worthy of the Ayrshire Bard.
+
+The star of the poet was now promising to be in the ascendant, but an
+untoward event ensued. In the ardent enthusiasm of his temperament, he
+was induced to espouse in verse the cause of the Paisley hand-loom
+operatives in a dispute with their employers, and to satirise in strong
+invective a person of irreproachable reputation. For this offence he was
+prosecuted before the sheriff, who sentenced him to be imprisoned for a
+few days, and publicly to burn his own poem in the front of the jail.
+This satire is entitled "The Shark; or, Long Mills detected." Like many
+other independents, he mistook anarchy in France for the dawn of liberty
+in Europe; and his sentiments becoming known, he was so vigilantly
+watched by the authorities, that he found it was no longer expedient for
+him to reside in Scotland. He resolved to emigrate to America; and,
+contriving by four months' extra labour, and living on a shilling
+weekly, to earn his passage-money, he sailed from Portpatrick to
+Belfast, and from thence to Newcastle, in the State of Delaware, where
+he arrived on the 14th July 1794. During the voyage he had slept on
+deck, and when he landed, his finances consisted only of a few
+shillings; yet, with a cheerful heart, he walked to Philadelphia, a
+distance of thirty-three miles, with only his fowling-piece on his
+shoulder. He shot a red-headed woodpecker by the way,--an omen of his
+future pursuits, for hitherto he had devoted no attention to the study
+of ornithology.
+
+He was first employed by a copperplate-printer in Philadelphia, but
+quitted this occupation for the loom, at which he worked about a year in
+Philadelphia, and at Shepherdstown, in Virginia. In 1795, he traversed a
+large portion of the State of New Jersey as a pedlar, keeping a
+journal,--a practice which he had followed during his wandering life in
+Scotland. He now adopted the profession of a schoolmaster, and was
+successively employed in this vocation at Frankford, in Pennsylvania, at
+Milestown, and at Bloomfield, in New Jersey. In preparing himself for
+the instruction of others, he essentially extended his own acquaintance
+with classical learning, and mathematical science; and by occasional
+employment as a land-surveyor, he somewhat improved his finances. In
+1801, he accepted the appointment of teacher in a seminary in
+Kingsessing, on the river Schuylkill, about four miles from
+Philadelphia,--a situation which, though attended with limited
+emolument, proved the first step in his path to eminence. He was within
+a short distance of the residence of William Bartram, the great American
+naturalist, with whom he became intimately acquainted; he also formed
+the friendship of Alexander Lawson, an emigrant engraver, who initiated
+him in the art of etching, colouring, and engraving. Discovering an
+aptitude in the accurate delineation of birds, he was led to the study
+of ornithology; with which he became so much interested, that he
+projected a work descriptive, with drawings, of all the birds of the
+Middle States, and even of the Union. About this period he became a
+contributor to the "Literary Magazine," conducted by Mr Brockden Brown,
+and to Denny's "Portfolio."
+
+Along with a nephew and another friend, Wilson made a pedestrian tour to
+the Falls of Niagara, in October 1804, and on his return published in
+the "Portfolio" a poetical narrative of his journey, entitled "The
+Foresters,"--a production surpassing his previous efforts, and
+containing some sublime apostrophes. But his energies were now chiefly
+devoted to the accomplishment of the grand design he had contemplated.
+Disappointed in obtaining the co-operation of his friend Mr Lawson, who
+was alarmed at the extent of his projected adventure, and likewise
+frustrated in obtaining pecuniary assistance from the President
+Jefferson, on which he had some reason to calculate, he persevered in
+his attempts himself, drawing, etching, and colouring the requisite
+illustrations. In 1806, he was employed as assistant-editor of a new
+edition of Rees' Cyclopedia, by Mr Samuel Bradford, bookseller in
+Philadelphia, who rewarded his services with a liberal salary, and
+undertook, at his own risk, the publication of his "Ornithology." The
+first volume of the work appeared in September 1808, and immediately
+after its publication the author personally visited, in the course of
+two different expeditions, the Eastern and Southern States, in quest of
+subscribers. These journeys were attended with a success scarcely
+adequate to the privations which were experienced in their prosecution;
+but the "Ornithology" otherwise obtained a wide circulation, and,
+excelling in point of illustration every production that had yet
+appeared in America, gained for the author universal commendation. In
+January 1810, his second volume appeared, and in a month after he
+proceeded to Pittsburg, and from thence, in a small skiff, made a
+solitary voyage down the Ohio, a distance of nearly six hundred miles.
+During this lonely and venturous journey he experienced relaxation in
+the composition of a poem, which afterwards appeared under the title of
+"The Pilgrim." In 1813, after encountering numerous hardships and
+perils, which an enthusiast only could have endured, he completed the
+publication of the seventh volume of his great work. But the sedulous
+attention requisite in the preparation of the plates of the eighth
+volume, and the effect of a severe cold, caught in rashly throwing
+himself into a river to swim in pursuit of a rare bird, brought on him a
+fatal dysentery, which carried him off, on the 23d of August 1813, in
+his forty-eighth year. He was interred in the cemetery of the Swedish
+church, Southwark, Philadelphia, where a plain marble monument has been
+erected to his memory. A ninth volume was added to the "Ornithology" by
+Mr George Ord, an intimate friend of the deceased naturalist; and three
+supplementary volumes have been published, in folio, by Charles Lucien
+Bonaparte, uncle of the present Emperor of the French.
+
+Amidst his extraordinary deserts as a naturalist, the merits of
+Alexander Wilson as a poet have been somewhat overlooked. His poetry, it
+may be remarked, though unambitious of ornament, is bold and vigorous in
+style, and, when devoted to satire, is keen and vehement. The ballad of
+"Watty and Meg," though exception may be taken to the moral, is an
+admirable picture of human nature, and one of the most graphic
+narratives of the "taming of a shrew" in the language. Allan Cunningham
+writes: "It has been excelled by none in lively, graphic fidelity of
+touch: whatever was present to his eye and manifest to his ear, he
+could paint with a life and a humour which Burns seems alone to
+excel."[41] In private life, Wilson was a model of benevolence and of
+the social virtues; he was devoid of selfishness, active in beneficence,
+and incapable of resentment. Before his departure for America, he waited
+on every one whom he conceived he had offended by his juvenile
+escapades, and begged their forgiveness; and he did not hesitate to
+reprove Burns for the levity too apparent in some of his poems. To his
+aged father, who survived till the year 1816, he sent remittances of
+money as often as he could afford; and at much inconvenience and
+pecuniary sacrifice, he established the family of his brother-in-law on
+a farm in the States. He was sober even to abstinence; and was guided in
+all his transactions by correct Christian principles. In person, he was
+remarkably handsome; his countenance was intelligent, and his eye
+sparkling. He never attained riches, but few Scotsmen have left more
+splendid memorials of their indomitable perseverance.[42] FOOTNOTES:
+
+[41] The "Songs of Scotland," by Allan Cunningham, vol. i. p. 247.
+
+[42] The most complete collection of his poems appeared in a volume
+published under the following title:--"The Poetical Works of Alexander
+Wilson; also, his Miscellaneous Prose Writings, Journals, Letters,
+Essays, &c., now first Collected: Illustrated by Critical and
+Explanatory Notes, with an extended Memoir of his Life and Writings, and
+a Glossary." Belfast, 1844, 18vo. A portrait of the author is prefixed.
+
+
+
+
+CONNEL AND FLORA.
+
+
+ Dark lowers the night o'er the wide stormy main,
+ Till mild rosy morning rise cheerful again;
+ Alas! morn returns to revisit the shore,
+ But Connel returns to his Flora no more.
+
+ For see, on yon mountain, the dark cloud of death,
+ O'er Connel's lone cottage, lies low on the heath;
+ While bloody and pale, on a far distant shore,
+ He lies, to return to his Flora no more.
+
+ Ye light fleeting spirits, that glide o'er the steep,
+ Oh, would ye but waft me across the wild deep!
+ There fearless I'd mix in the battle's loud roar,
+ I'd die with my Connel, and leave him no more.
+
+
+
+
+MATILDA.
+
+
+ Ye dark rugged rocks, that recline o'er the deep,
+ Ye breezes, that sigh o'er the main,
+ Here shelter me under your cliffs while I weep,
+ And cease while ye hear me complain.
+
+ For distant, alas! from my dear native shore,
+ And far from each friend now I be;
+ And wide is the merciless ocean that roars
+ Between my Matilda and me.
+
+ How blest were the times when together we stray'd,
+ While Phœbe shone silent above,
+ Or lean'd by the border of Cartha's green side,
+ And talk'd the whole evening of love!
+
+ Around us all nature lay wrapt up in peace,
+ Nor noise could our pleasures annoy,
+ Save Cartha's hoarse brawling, convey'd by the breeze,
+ That soothed us to love and to joy.
+
+ If haply some youth had his passion express'd,
+ And praised the bright charms of her face,
+ What horrors unceasing revolved though my breast,
+ While, sighing, I stole from the place!
+
+ For where is the eye that could view her alone,
+ The ear that could list to her strain,
+ Nor wish the adorable nymph for his own,
+ Nor double the pangs I sustain?
+
+ Thou moon, that now brighten'st those regions above,
+ How oft hast thou witness'd my bliss,
+ While breathing my tender expressions of love,
+ I seal'd each kind vow with a kiss!
+
+ Ah, then, how I joy'd while I gazed on her charms!
+ What transports flew swift through my heart!
+ I press'd the dear, beautiful maid in my arms,
+ Nor dream'd that we ever should part.
+
+ But now from the dear, from the tenderest maid,
+ By fortune unfeelingly torn;
+ 'Midst strangers, who wonder to see me so sad,
+ In secret I wander forlorn.
+
+ And oft, while drear Midnight assembles her shades,
+ And Silence pours sleep from her throne,
+ Pale, lonely, and pensive, I steal through the glades,
+ And sigh, 'midst the darkness, my moan.
+
+ In vain to the town I retreat for relief,
+ In vain to the groves I complain;
+ Belles, coxcombs, and uproar, can ne'er soothe my grief,
+ And solitude nurses my pain.
+
+ Still absent from her whom my bosom loves best,
+ I languish in mis'ry and care;
+ Her presence could banish each woe from my heart,
+ But her absence, alas! is despair.
+
+ Ye dark rugged rocks, that recline o'er the deep;
+ Ye breezes, that sigh o'er the main--
+ Oh, shelter me under your cliffs while I weep,
+ And cease while ye hear me complain!
+
+ Far distant, alas! from my dear native shore,
+ And far from each friend now I be;
+ And wide is the merciless ocean that roars
+ Between my Matilda and me.
+
+
+
+
+AUCHTERTOOL.[43]
+
+
+ From the village of Leslie, with a heart full of glee,
+ And my pack on my shoulders, I rambled out free,
+ Resolved that same evening, as Luna was full,
+ To lodge, ten miles distant, in old Auchtertool.
+
+ Through many a lone cottage and farm-house I steer'd,
+ Took their money, and off with my budget I sheer'd;
+ The road I explored out, without form or rule,
+ Still asking the nearest to old Auchtertool.
+
+ At length I arrived at the edge of the town,
+ As Phœbus, behind a high mountain, went down;
+ The clouds gather'd dreary, and weather blew foul,
+ And I hugg'd myself safe now in old Auchtertool.
+
+ An inn I inquired out, a lodging desired,
+ But the landlady's pertness seem'd instantly fired;
+ For she saucy replied, as she sat carding wool,
+ "I ne'er kept sic lodgers in auld Auchtertool."
+
+ With scorn I soon left her to live on her pride;
+ But, asking, was told there was none else beside,
+ Except an old weaver, who now kept a school,
+ And these were the whole that were in Auchtertool.
+
+ To his mansion I scamper'd, and rapp'd at the door;
+ He oped, but as soon as I dared to implore,
+ He shut it like thunder, and utter'd a howl
+ That rung through each corner of old Auchtertool.
+
+ Deprived of all shelter, through darkness I trode,
+ Till I came to a ruin'd old house by the road;
+ Here the night I will spend, and, inspired by the owl,
+ My wrath I 'll vent forth upon old Auchtertool.
+
+
+[43] We have ventured to omit three verses, and to alter slightly the
+last line of this song. It was originally published at Paisley, in 1790,
+to the tune of "One bottle more." Auchtertool is a small hamlet in
+Fifeshire, about five miles west of the town of Kirkcaldy. The
+inhabitants, whatever may have been their failings at the period when
+Wilson in vain solicited shelter in the hamlet, are certainly no longer
+entitled to bear the reproach of lacking in hospitality. We rejoice in
+the opportunity thus afforded of testifying as to the disinterested
+hospitality and kindness which we have experienced in that
+neighbourhood.
+
+
+
+
+CAROLINA, BARONESS NAIRN.
+
+
+Carolina Oliphant was born in the old mansion of Gask, in the county of
+Perth, on the 16th of July 1766. She was the third daughter and fifth
+child of Laurence Oliphant of Gask, who had espoused his cousin Margaret
+Robertson, a daughter of Duncan Robertson of Struan, and his wife a
+daughter of the fourth Lord Nairn. The Oliphants of Gask were cadets of
+the formerly noble house of Oliphant; whose ancestor, Sir William
+Oliphant of Aberdalgie, a puissant knight, acquired distinction in the
+beginning of the fourteenth century by defending the Castle of Stirling
+against a formidable siege by the first Edward. The family of Gask were
+devoted Jacobites; the paternal grandfather of Carolina Oliphant had
+attended Prince Charles Edward as aid-de-camp during his disastrous
+campaign of 1745-6, and his spouse had indicated her sympathy in his
+cause by cutting out a lock of his hair on the occasion of his accepting
+the hospitality of the family mansion. The portion of hair is preserved
+at Gask; and Carolina Oliphant, in her song, "The Auld House," has thus
+celebrated the gentle deed of her progenitor:--
+
+ "The Leddy too, sae genty,
+ There shelter'd Scotland's heir,
+ An' clipt a lock wi' her ain hand
+ Frae his lang yellow hair."
+
+The estate of Gask escaped forfeiture, but the father of Carolina did
+not renounce the Jacobite sentiments of his ancestors. He named the
+subject of this memoir Carolina, in honour of Prince Charles Edward; and
+his prevailing topic of conversation was the reiterated expression of
+his hope that "the king would get his ain." He would not permit the
+names of the reigning monarch and his queen to be mentioned in his
+presence; and when impaired eyesight compelled him to seek the
+assistance of his family in reading the newspapers, he angrily reproved
+the reader if the "German lairdie and his leddy" were designated
+otherwise than by the initial letters, "K. and Q." This extreme
+Jacobitism at a period when the crime was scarcely to be dreaded, was
+reported to George III., who is related to have confessed his respect
+for a man who had so consistently maintained his political sentiments.
+
+In her youth, Carolina Oliphant was singularly beautiful, and was known
+in her native district by the poetical designation of "The Flower of
+Strathearn." She was as remarkable for the precocity of her intellect,
+as she was celebrated for the elegance of her person. Descended by her
+mother from a family which, in one instance,[44] at least, had afforded
+some evidence of poetical talents, and possessed of a correct musical
+ear, she very early composed verses for her favourite melodies. To the
+development of her native genius, her juvenile condition abundantly
+contributed: the locality of her birthplace, rich in landscape scenery,
+and associated with family traditions and legends of curious and
+chivalric adventure, might have been sufficient to promote, in a mind
+less fertile than her own, sentiments of poesy. In the application of
+her talents she was influenced by another incentive. A loose ribaldry
+tainted the songs and ballads which circulated among the peasantry, and
+she was convinced that the diffusion of a more wholesome minstrelsy
+would essentially elevate the moral tone of the community. Thus, while
+still young, she commenced to purify the older melodies, and to compose
+new songs, which were ultimately destined to occupy an ample share of
+the national heart. The occasion of an agricultural dinner in the
+neighbourhood afforded her a fitting opportunity of making trial of her
+success in the good work which she had begun. To the president of the
+meeting she sent, anonymously, her verses entitled "The Ploughman;" and
+the production being publicly read, was received with warm approbation,
+and was speedily put to music. She was thus encouraged to proceed in her
+self-imposed task; and to this early period of her life may be ascribed
+some of her best lyrics. "The Laird o' Cockpen," and "The Land o' the
+Leal," at the close of the century, were sung in every district of the
+kingdom.
+
+Carolina Oliphant had many suitors for her hand: she gave a preference
+to William Murray Nairn, her maternal cousin, who had been Baron Nairn,
+barring the attainder of the title on account of the Jacobitism of the
+last Baron. The marriage was celebrated in June 1806. At this period, Mr
+Nairn was Assistant Inspector-General of Barracks in Scotland, and held
+the rank of major in the army. By Act of Parliament, on the 17th June
+1824, the attainder of the family was removed, the title of Baron being
+conferred on Major Nairn. This measure is reported to have been passed
+on the strong recommendation of George IV.; his Majesty having learned,
+during his state visit to Scotland in 1822, that the song of "The
+Attainted Scottish Nobles" was the composition of Lady Nairn. The song
+is certainly one of the best apologies for Jacobitism.
+
+On the 9th of July 1830, Lady Nairn was bereaved of her husband, to whom
+she had proved an affectionate wife. Her care had for several years been
+assiduously bestowed on the proper rearing of her only child William,
+who, being born in 1808, had reached his twenty-second year when he
+succeeded to the title on the death of his father. This young nobleman
+warmly reciprocated his mother's affectionate devotedness; and, making
+her the associate of his manhood, proved a source of much comfort to her
+in her bereavement. In 1837, he resolved, in her society, to visit the
+Continent, in the hope of being recruited by change of climate from an
+attack of influenza caught in the spring of that year. But the change
+did not avail; he was seized with a violent cold at Brussels, which,
+after an illness of six weeks, proved fatal. He died in that city on the
+7th of December 1837. Deprived both of her husband and her only child, a
+young nobleman of so much promise, and of singular Christian worth, Lady
+Nairn, though submitting to the mysterious dispensations with becoming
+resignation, did not regain her wonted buoyancy of spirit. Old age was
+rapidly approaching,--those years in which the words of the inspired
+sage, "I have no pleasure in them," are too frequently called forth by
+the pressure of human infirmities. But this amiable lady did not sink
+under the load of affliction and of years: she mourned in hope, and wept
+in faith. While the afflictions which had mingled with her cup of
+blessings tended to prevent her lingering too intently on the past,[45]
+the remembrance of a life devoted to deeds of piety and virtue was a
+solace greater than any other earthly object could impart, leading her
+to hail the future with sentiments of joyful anticipation. During the
+last years of her life, unfettered by worldly ties, she devoted all her
+energies to the service of Heaven, and to the advancement of Christian
+truth. Her beautiful ode, "Would you be young again?" was composed in
+1842, and enclosed in a letter to a friend; it is signally expressive of
+the pious resignation and Christian hope of the author.
+
+After the important era of her marriage, she seems to have relinquished
+her literary ardour. But in the year 1821, Mr Robert Purdie, an
+enterprising music-seller in Edinburgh, having resolved to publish a
+series of the more approved national songs, made application to several
+ladies celebrated for their musical skill, with the view of obtaining
+their assistance in the arrangement of the melodies. To these ladies was
+known the secret of Lady Nairn's devotedness to Scottish song, enjoying
+as they did her literary correspondence and private intimacy; and in
+consenting to aid the publisher in his undertaking, they calculated on
+contributions from their accomplished friend. They had formed a correct
+estimate: Lady Nairn, whose extreme diffidence had hitherto proved a
+barrier to the fulfilment of the best wishes of her heart, in effecting
+the reformation of the national minstrelsy, consented to transmit
+pieces for insertion, on the express condition that her name and rank,
+and every circumstance connected with her history, should be kept in
+profound secrecy. The condition was carefully observed; so that,
+although the publication of "The Scottish Minstrel" extended over three
+years, and she had several personal interviews and much correspondence
+with the publisher and his editor, Mr R. A. Smith, both these
+individuals remained ignorant of her real name. She had assumed the
+signature, "B. B.," in her correspondence with Mr Purdie, who appears to
+have been entertained by _the discovery_, communicated in confidence,
+that the name of his contributor was "Mrs Bogan of Bogan;" and by this
+designation he subsequently addressed her. The _nom de guerre_ of the
+two B.'s[46] is attached to the greater number of Lady Nairn's
+contributions in "The Scottish Minstrel."
+
+The new collection of minstrelsy, unexceptionable as it was in the words
+attached to all the airs, commanded a wide circulation, and excited
+general attention. The original contributions were especially commended,
+and some of them were forthwith sung by professed vocalists in the
+principal towns. Much speculation arose respecting the authorship, and
+various conjectures were supported, each with plausible arguments, by
+the public journalists. In these circumstances, Lady Nairn experienced
+painful alarm, lest, by any inadvertence on the part of her friends, the
+origin of her songs should be traced. While the publication of the
+"Minstrel" was proceeding, her correspondents received repeated
+injunctions to adopt every caution in preserving her _incognita_; she
+was even desirous that her sex might not be made known. "I beg the
+publisher will make no mention of a _lady_," she wrote to one of her
+correspondents, "as you observe, the more mystery the better, and
+_still_ the balance is in favour of the lords of creation. I cannot
+help, in some degree, undervaluing beforehand what is said to be a
+feminine production." "The Scottish Minstrel" was completed in 1824, in
+six royal octavo volumes, forming one of the best collections of the
+Scottish melodies. It was in the full belief that "Mrs Bogan" was her
+real name, that the following compliment was paid to Lady Nairn by
+Messrs Purdie and R. A. Smith, in the advertisement to the last volume
+of the work:--"In particular, the editors would have felt happy in being
+permitted to enumerate the many original and beautiful verses that adorn
+their pages, for which they are indebted to the author of the
+much-admired song, 'The Land o' the Leal;' but they fear to wound a
+delicacy which shrinks from all observation."
+
+Subsequent to the appearance of "The Scottish Minstrel," Lady Nairn did
+not publish any lyrics; and she was eminently successful in preserving
+her _incognita_. No critic ventured to identify her as the celebrated
+"B. B.," and it was only whispered among a few that she had composed
+"The Land o' the Leal." The mention of her name publicly as the author
+of this beautiful ode, on one occasion, had signally disconcerted her.
+While she was resident in Paris, in 1842, she writes to an intimate
+friend in Edinburgh on this subject:--"A Scottish lady here, Lady----,
+with whom I never met in Scotland, is so good as, among perfect
+strangers, to _denounce_ me as the origin of 'The Land o' the Leal!' I
+cannot trace it, but very much dislike as ever any kind of publicity."
+The extreme diffidence and shrinking modesty of the amiable author
+continued to the close of her life; she never divulged, beyond a small
+circle of confidential friends, the authorship of a single verse. The
+songs published in her youth had been given to others; but, as in the
+case of Lady Anne Barnard, these assignments caused her no uneasiness.
+She experienced much gratification in finding her simple minstrelsy
+supplanting the coarse and demoralising rhymes of a former period; and
+this mental satisfaction she preferred to fame.
+
+The philanthropic efforts of Lady Nairn were not limited to the
+purification of the national minstrelsy; her benevolence extended
+towards the support of every institution likely to promote the temporal
+comforts, or advance the spiritual interests of her countrymen. Her
+contributions to the public charities were ample, and she
+
+ "Did good by stealth, and blush'd to find it fame."
+
+In an address delivered at Edinburgh, on the 29th of December 1845, Dr
+Chalmers, referring to the exertions which had been made for the supply
+of religious instruction in the district of the West Port of Edinburgh,
+made the following remarks regarding Lady Nairn, who was then recently
+deceased:--"Let me speak now as to the countenance we have received. I
+am now at liberty to mention a very noble benefaction which I received
+about a year ago. Inquiry was made at me by a lady, mentioning that she
+had a sum at her disposal, and that she wished to apply it to charitable
+purposes; and she wanted me to enumerate a list of charitable objects,
+in proportion to the estimate I had of their value. Accordingly, I
+furnished her with a scale of about five or six charitable objects. The
+highest in the scale were those institutions which had for their design
+the Christianising of the people at home; and I also mentioned to her,
+in connexion with the Christianising at home, what we were doing at the
+West Port; and there came to me from her, in the course of a day or two,
+no less a sum than £300. She is now dead; she is now in her grave, and
+her works do follow her. When she gave me this noble benefaction, she
+laid me under strict injunctions of secrecy, and, accordingly, I did not
+mention her name to any person; but after she was dead, I begged of her
+nearest heir that I might be allowed to proclaim it, because I thought
+that her example, so worthy to be followed, might influence others in
+imitating her; and I am happy to say that I am now at liberty to state
+that it was Lady Nairn of Perthshire. It enabled us, at the expense of
+£330, to purchase sites for schools, and a church; and we have got a
+site in the very heart of the locality, with a very considerable extent
+of ground for a washing-green, a washing-house, and a play-ground for
+the children, so that we are a good step in advance towards the
+completion of our parochial economy."
+
+After the death of her son, and till within two years of her own death,
+Lady Nairn resided chiefly on the Continent, and frequently in Paris.
+Her health had for several years been considerably impaired, and
+latterly she had recourse to a wheeled chair. In the mansion of Gask, on
+the 27th of October 1845, she gently sunk into her rest, at the advanced
+age of seventy-nine years.
+
+Some years subsequent to this event, it occurred to the relatives and
+literary friends of the deceased Baroness that as there could no longer
+be any reason for retaining her _incognita_, full justice should be done
+to her memory by the publication of a collected edition of her works.
+This scheme was partially executed in an elegant folio, entitled "Lays
+from Strathearn: by Carolina, Baroness Nairn. Arranged with Symphonies
+and Accompaniments for the Pianoforte, by Finlay Dun." It bears the
+imprint of London, and has no date. In this work, of which a new edition
+will speedily be published by Messrs Paterson, music-sellers, Edinburgh,
+are contained seventy songs, but the larger proportion of the author's
+lyrics still remain in MS. From her representatives we have received
+permission to select her best lyrics for the present work, and to insert
+several pieces hitherto unpublished. Of the lays which we have selected,
+several are new versions to old airs; the majority, though unknown as
+the compositions of Lady Nairn, are already familiar in the drawing-room
+and the cottage. For winning simplicity, graceful expression, and
+exquisite pathos, her compositions are especially remarkable; but when
+her muse prompts to humour, the laugh is sprightly and overpowering.
+
+In society, Lady Nairn was reserved and unassuming. Her countenance,
+naturally beautiful, wore, in her mature years, a somewhat pensive cast;
+and the characteristic by which she was known consisted in her
+enthusiastic love of music. It may be added, that she was fond of the
+fine arts, and was skilled in the use of the pencil.
+
+
+[44] Robertson of Struan, cousin-german of Lady Nairn's mother, and a
+conspicuous Jacobite chief, composed many fugitive verses for the
+amusement of his friends; and a collection of them, said to have been
+surreptitiously obtained from a servant, was published, without a date,
+under the following title:--"Poems on various Subjects and Occasions, by
+the Honourable Alexander Robertson of Struan, Esq.--mostly taken from
+his own original Manuscripts." Edinburgh, 8vo.
+
+[45] Writing to one of her correspondents, in November 1840, Lady Nairn
+thus remarks--"I sometimes say to myself, 'This is no me,' so greatly
+have my feelings and trains of thought changed since 'auld lang syne;'
+and, though I am made to know assuredly that all is well, I scarcely
+dare to allow my mind to settle on the past."
+
+[46] A daughter of Baron Hume was one of the ladies who induced Lady
+Nairn to become a contributor to "The Scottish Minstrel." Many of the
+songs were sent to the Editor through the medium of Miss Hume. She thus
+expresses herself in a letter to a friend:--"My father's admiration of
+'The Land o' the Leal' was such, that he said no woman but Miss Ferrier
+was capable of writing it. And when I used to shew him song after song
+in MS., when I was receiving the anonymous verses for the music, and ask
+his criticism, he said--'Your unknown poetess has only _one_, or rather
+_two_, letters out of taste, viz., choosing "B. B." for her signature.'"
+
+
+
+
+THE PLEUGHMAN.[47]
+
+
+ There 's high and low, there 's rich and poor,
+ There 's trades and crafts enew, man;
+ But, east and west, his trade 's the best,
+ That kens to guide the pleugh, man.
+ Then, come, weel speed my pleughman lad,
+ And hey my merry pleughman;
+ Of a' the trades that I do ken,
+ Commend me to the pleughman.
+
+ His dreams are sweet upon his bed,
+ His cares are light and few, man;
+ His mother's blessing 's on his head,
+ That tents her weel, the pleughman.
+ Then, come, weel speed, &c.
+
+ The lark, sae sweet, that starts to meet
+ The morning fresh and new, man;
+ Blythe though she be, as blythe is he
+ That sings as sweet, the pleughman.
+ Then, come, weel speed, &c.
+
+ All fresh and gay, at dawn of day
+ Their labours they renew, man;
+ Heaven bless the seed, and bless the soil,
+ And Heaven bless the pleughman.
+ Then, come, weel speed, &c.
+
+
+[47] This seems to have been the author's first composition in Scottish
+verse. See the Memoir.
+
+
+
+
+CALLER HERRIN'.[48]
+
+
+ Wha 'll buy caller herrin'?
+ They 're bonnie fish and halesome farin';
+ Wha 'll buy caller herrin',
+ New drawn frae the Forth?
+
+ When ye were sleepin' on your pillows,
+ Dream'd ye ought o' our puir fellows,
+ Darkling as they faced the billows,
+ A' to fill the woven willows.
+ Buy my caller herrin',
+ New drawn frae the Forth.
+
+ Wha 'll buy my caller herrin'?
+ They 're no brought here without brave daring;
+ Buy my caller herrin',
+ Haul'd thro' wind and rain.
+ Wha 'll buy caller herrin'? &c.
+
+ Wha 'll buy my caller herrin'?
+ Oh, ye may ca' them vulgar farin'!
+ Wives and mithers, maist despairin',
+ Ca' them lives o' men.
+ Wha 'll buy caller herrin'? &c.
+
+ When the creel o' herrin' passes,
+ Ladies, clad in silks and laces,
+ Gather in their braw pelisses,
+ Cast their heads, and screw their faces.
+ Wha 'll buy caller herrin'? &c.
+
+ Caller herrin 's no got lightlie;
+ Ye can trip the spring fu' tightlie;
+ Spite o' tauntin', flauntin', flingin',
+ Gow has set you a' a-singin'.
+ Wha 'll buy caller herrin'? &c.
+
+ Neebour wives, now tent my tellin',
+ When the bonny fish ye 're sellin',
+ At ae word be in yer dealin'--
+ Truth will stand when a' thing 's failin'.
+ Wha 'll buy caller herrin'? &c.
+
+
+[48] This song has acquired an extensive popularity, for which it is
+much indebted, in addition to its intrinsic merits, to the musical
+powers of the late John Wilson, the eminent vocalist, whose premature
+death is a source of regret to all lovers of Scottish melody. Mr Wilson
+sung this song in every principal town of the United Kingdom, and always
+with effect.
+
+
+
+
+THE LAND O' THE LEAL.[49]
+
+
+ I 'm wearin' awa', John,
+ Like snaw wreaths in thaw, John;
+ I 'm wearin' awa'
+ To the land o' the leal.
+ There 's nae sorrow there, John;
+ There 's neither cauld nor care, John;
+ The day 's aye fair
+ I' the land o' the leal.
+
+ Our bonnie bairn 's there, John;
+ She was baith gude and fair, John;
+ And, oh! we grudged her sair
+ To the land o' the leal.
+ But sorrows sel' wears past, John,
+ And joy 's a-comin' fast, John--
+ The joy that 's aye to last
+ In the land o' the leal.
+
+ Sae dear 's that joy was bought, John,
+ Sae free the battle fought, John,
+ That sinfu' man e'er brought
+ To the land o' the leal.
+ Oh, dry your glist'ning e'e, John!
+ My saul langs to be free, John;
+ And angels beckon me
+ To the land o' the leal.
+
+ Oh, haud ye leal and true, John!
+ Your day it 's wearin' thro', John;
+ And I 'll welcome you
+ To the land o' the leal.
+ Now, fare ye weel, my ain John,
+ This warld's cares are vain, John;
+ We 'll meet, and we 'll be fain,
+ In the land o' the leal.
+
+
+[49] This exquisitely tender and beautiful lay was composed by Lady
+Nairn, for two married relatives of her own, Mr and Mrs C----, who had
+sustained bereavement in the death of a child. Such is the account of
+its origin which we have received from Lady Nairn's relatives.
+
+
+
+
+THE LAIRD O' COCKPEN.[50]
+
+ The Laird o' Cockpen he 's proud and he 's great,
+ His mind is ta'en up with the things o' the state;
+ He wanted a wife his braw house to keep,
+ But favour wi' wooin' was fashious to seek.
+
+ Down by the dyke-side a lady did dwell,
+ At his table-head he thought she 'd look well;
+ M'Clish's ae daughter o' Claverse-ha' Lee,
+ A penniless lass wi' a lang pedigree.
+
+ His wig was weel pouther'd, and as gude as new;
+ His waistcoat was white, his coat it was blue;
+ He put on a ring, a sword, and cock'd hat,
+ And wha' could refuse the Laird wi' a' that?
+
+ He took the gray mare, and rade cannily--
+ And rapp'd at the yett o' Claverse-ha' Lee;
+ "Gae tell Mistress Jean to come speedily ben,
+ She 's wanted to speak to the Laird o' Cockpen."
+
+ Mistress Jean was makin' the elder-flower wine,
+ "And what brings the Laird at sic a like time?"
+ She put aff her apron, and on her silk gown,
+ Her mutch wi' red ribbons, and gaed awa' down.
+
+ And when she cam' ben, he bowed fu' low,
+ And what was his errand he soon let her know;
+ Amazed was the Laird when the lady said "Na;"
+ And wi' a laigh curtsie she turned awa'.
+
+ Dumbfounder'd he was, nae sigh did he gie;
+ He mounted his mare--he rade cannily;
+ And aften he thought, as he gaed through the glen,
+ She 's daft to refuse the Laird o' Cockpen.
+
+ And now that the Laird his exit had made,
+ Mistress Jean she reflected on what she had said;
+ "Oh! for ane I 'll get better, it 's waur I 'll get ten,
+ I was daft to refuse the Laird o' Cockpen."
+
+ Next time that the Laird and the Lady were seen,
+ They were gaun arm-in-arm to the kirk on the green;
+ Now she sits in the ha' like a weel-tappit hen,
+ But as yet there 's nae chickens appear'd at Cockpen.
+
+
+[50] This humorous and highly popular song was composed by Lady Nairn
+towards the close of the last century, in place of the older words
+connected with the air, "When she came ben, she bobbit." The older
+version, which is entitled "Cockpen," is exceptional on the score of
+refinement, but was formerly sung on account of the excellence of the
+air. It is generally believed to be a composition of the reign of
+Charles II.; and the hero of the piece, "the Laird of Cockpen," is said
+to have been the companion in arms and attached friend of his sovereign.
+Of this personage an anecdote is recorded in some of the Collections.
+Having been engaged with his countrymen at the battle of Worcester, in
+the cause of Charles, he accompanied the unfortunate monarch to Holland,
+and, forming one of the little court at the Hague, amused his royal
+master by his humour, and especially by his skill in Scottish music. In
+playing the tune, "Brose and Butter," he particularly excelled; it
+became the favourite of the exiled monarch, and Cockpen had pleasure in
+gratifying the royal wish, that he might be lulled to sleep at night,
+and awakened in the morning by this enchanting air. At the Restoration,
+Cockpen found that his estate had been confiscated for his attachment to
+the king, and had the deep mortification to discover that he had
+suffered on behalf of an ungrateful prince, who gave no response to his
+many petitions and entreaties for the restoration of his possessions.
+Visiting London, he was even denied an audience; but he still
+entertained a hope that, by a personal conference with the king, he
+might attain his object. To accomplish this design, he had recourse to
+the following artifice:--He formed acquaintance with the organist of the
+chapel-royal, and obtained permission to officiate as his substitute
+when the king came to service. He did so with becoming propriety till
+the close of the service, when, instead of the solemn departing air, he
+struck up the monarch's old favourite, "Brose and Butter." The scheme,
+though bordering on profanity, succeeded in the manner intended. The
+king proceeding hastily to the organ-gallery, discovered Cockpen, whom
+he saluted familiarly, declaring that he had "almost made him dance." "I
+could dance too," said Cockpen, "if I had my lands again." The request,
+to which every entreaty could not gain a response, was yielded to the
+power of music and old association. Cockpen was restored to his
+inheritance. The modern ballad has been often attributed to Miss
+Ferrier, the accomplished author of "Marriage," and other popular
+novels. She only contributed the last two stanzas. The present Laird of
+Cockpen is the Marquis of Dalhousie.
+
+
+
+
+HER HOME SHE IS LEAVING.
+
+AIR--_"Mordelia."_
+
+
+ In all its rich wildness, her home she is leaving,
+ In sad and tearful silence grieving,
+ And still as the moment of parting is nearer,
+ Each long cherish'd object is fairer and dearer.
+ Not a grove or fresh streamlet but wakens reflection
+ Of hearts still and cold, that glow'd with affection;
+ Not a breeze that blows over the flowers of the wild wood,
+ But tells, as it passes, how blest was her childhood.
+
+ And how long must I leave thee, each fond look expresses,
+ Ye high rocky summits, ye ivy'd recesses!
+ How long must I leave thee, thou wood-shaded river,
+ The echoes all sigh--as they whisper--for ever!
+ Tho' the autumn winds rave, and the seared leaves fall,
+ And winter hangs out her cold icy pall--
+ Yet the footsteps of spring again ye will see,
+ And the singing of birds--but they sing not for me.
+
+ The joys of the past, more faintly recalling,
+ Sweet visions of peace on her spirit are falling,
+ And the soft wing of time, as it speeds for the morrow,
+ Wafts a gale, that is drying the dew-drops of sorrow.
+ Hope dawns--and the toils of life's journey beguiling,
+ The path of the mourner is cheer'd with its smiling;
+ And there her heart rests, and her wishes all centre,
+ Where parting is never--nor sorrow can enter.
+
+
+
+
+
+THE BONNIEST LASS IN A' THE WARLD.
+
+
+ The bonniest lass in a' the warld,
+ I 've often heard them telling,
+ She 's up the hill, she 's down the glen,
+ She 's in yon lonely dwelling.
+ But nane could bring her to my mind
+ Wha lives but in the fancy,
+ Is 't Kate, or Shusie, Jean, or May,
+ Is 't Effie, Bess, or Nancy?
+
+ Now lasses a' keep a gude heart,
+ Nor e'er envy a comrade,
+ For be your een black, blue, or gray,
+ Ye 're bonniest aye to some lad.
+ The tender heart, the charming smile,
+ The truth that ne'er will falter,
+ Are charms that never can beguile,
+ And time can never alter.
+
+
+
+
+MY AIN KIND DEARIE, O![51]
+
+
+ Will ye gang ower the lea-rig,
+ My ain kind dearie, O?
+ Will ye gang ower the lea-rig,
+ My ain kind dearie, O?
+ Gin ye'll tak heart, and gang wi' me,
+ Mishap will never steer ye, O;
+ Gude luck lies ower the lea-rig,
+ My ain kind dearie, O!
+
+ There 's walth ower yon green lea-rig,
+ My ain kind dearie, O!
+ There 's walth ower yon green lea-rig,
+ My ain kind dearie, O!
+ Its neither land, nor gowd, nor braws--
+ Let them gang tapsle teerie, O!
+ It 's walth o' peace, o' love, and truth,
+ My ain kind dearie, O!
+
+
+[51] The first two lines of this song are borrowed from the "Lea-Rig," a
+lively and popular lyric, of which the first two verses were composed by
+Robert Fergusson, the three remaining being added by William Reid of
+Glasgow. (See _ante_, article "William Reid.")
+
+
+
+
+HE'S LIFELESS AMANG THE RUDE BILLOWS.
+
+AIR--_"The Muckin' o' Geordie's Byre."_
+
+
+ He 's lifeless amang the rude billows,
+ My tears and my sighs are in vain;
+ The heart that beat warm for his Jeanie,
+ Will ne'er beat for mortal again.
+ My lane now I am i' the warld,
+ And the daylight is grievous to me;
+ The laddie that lo'ed me sae dearly
+ Lies cauld in the deeps o' the sea.
+
+ Ye tempests, sae boist'rously raging,
+ Rage on as ye list--or be still;
+ This heart ye sae often hae sicken'd,
+ Is nae mair the sport o' your will.
+ Now heartless, I hope not--I fear not,--
+ High Heaven hae pity on me!
+ My soul, tho' dismay'd and distracted,
+ Yet bends to thy awful decree.
+
+
+
+
+JOY OF MY EARLIEST DAYS.
+
+AIR--_"I'll never leave thee."_
+
+
+ Joy of my earliest days,
+ Why must I grieve thee?
+ Theme of my fondest lays,
+ Oh, I maun leave thee!
+ Leave thee, love! leave thee, love!
+ How shall I leave thee?
+ Absence thy truth will prove,
+ For, oh! I maun leave thee!
+
+ When on yon mossy stane,
+ Wild weeds o'ergrowin',
+ Ye sit at e'en your lane,
+ And hear the burn rowin';
+ Oh! think on this partin' hour,
+ Down by the Garry,
+ And to Him that has a' the pow'r,
+ Commend me, my Mary!
+
+
+
+
+OH, WEEL'S ME ON MY AIN MAN.
+
+AIR--_"Landlady count the lawin'."_
+
+
+ Oh, weel's me on my ain man,
+ My ain man, my ain man!
+ Oh, weel's me on my ain gudeman!
+ He 'll aye be welcome hame.
+
+ I 'm wae I blamed him yesternight,
+ For now my heart is feather light;
+ For gowd I wadna gie the sight;
+ I see him linking ower the height.
+ Oh, weel's me on my ain man, &c.
+
+ Rin, Jamie, bring the kebbuck ben,
+ And fin' aneath the speckled hen;
+ Meg, rise and sweep about the fire,
+ Syne cry on Johnnie frae the byre.
+ For weel's me on my ain man,
+ My ain man, my ain man!
+ For weel's me on my ain gudeman!
+ I see him linkin' hame.
+
+
+
+
+KIND ROBIN LOE'S ME.[52]
+
+
+ Robin is my ain gudeman,
+ Now match him, carlins, gin ye can,
+ For ilk ane whitest thinks her swan,
+ But kind Robin lo'es me.
+ To mak my boast I 'll e'en be bauld,
+ For Robin lo'ed me young and auld,
+ In summer's heat and winter's cauld,
+ My kind Robin lo'es me.
+
+ Robin he comes hame at e'en
+ Wi' pleasure glancin' in his e'en;
+ He tells me a' he 's heard and seen,
+ And syne how he lo'es me.
+ There 's some hae land, and some hae gowd,
+ Mair wad hae them gin they could,
+ But a' I wish o' warld's guid,
+ Is Robin still to lo'e me.
+
+
+[52] The author seems to have composed these stanzas as a sequel to a
+wooing song of the same name, beginning, "Robin is my only jo," which
+first appeared in Herd's Collection in 1776. There are some older words
+to the same air, but these are coarse, and are not to be found in any of
+the modern Collections.
+
+
+
+
+KITTY REID'S HOUSE.
+
+AIR--_"Country Bumpkin."_
+
+
+ Hech, hey! the mirth that was there,
+ The mirth that was there,
+ The mirth that was there;
+ Hech, how! the mirth that was there,
+ In Kitty Reid's house on the green, Jo!
+ There was laughin' and singin', and dancin' and glee,
+ In Kitty's Reid's house, in Kitty Reid's house,
+ There was laughin' and singin', and dancin' and glee,
+ In Kitty Reid's house on the green, Jo!
+
+ Hech, hey! the fright that was there,
+ The fright that was there,
+ The fright that was there;
+ Hech, how! the fright that was there,
+ In Kitty Reid's house on the green, Jo!
+ The light glimmer'd in through a crack i' the wa',
+ An' a'body thocht the lift it wad fa',
+ And lads and lasses they soon ran awa'
+ Frae Kitty's Reid's house on the green, Jo!
+
+ Hech, hey! the dule that was there,
+ The dule that was there,
+ The dule that was there;
+ The birds and beasts it wauken'd them a',
+ In Kitty Reid's house on the green, Jo!
+ The wa' gaed a hurley, and scatter'd them a',
+ The piper, the fiddler, auld Kitty, and a';
+ The kye fell a routin', the cocks they did craw,
+ In Kitty Reid's house on the green, Jo!
+
+
+
+
+THE ROBIN'S NEST.
+
+AIR--_"Lochiel's awa' to France."_
+
+
+ Their nest was in the leafy bush,
+ Sae soft and warm, sae soft and warm,
+ And Robins thought their little brood
+ All safe from harm, all safe from harm.
+ The morning's feast with joy they brought,
+ To feed their young wi' tender care;
+ The plunder'd leafy bush they found,
+ But nest and nestlings saw nae mair.
+
+ The mother cou'dna leave the spot,
+ But wheeling round, and wheeling round,
+ The cruel spoiler aim'd a shot,
+ Cured her heart's wound, cured her heart's wound.
+ She will not hear their helpless cry,
+ Nor see them pine in slavery!
+ The burning breast she will not bide,
+ For wrongs of wanton knavery.
+
+ Oh! bonny Robin Redbreast,
+ Ye trust in men, ye trust in men,
+ But what their hard hearts are made o',
+ Ye little ken, ye little ken.
+ They 'll ne'er wi' your wee skin be warm'd,
+ Nor wi' your tiny flesh be fed,
+ But just 'cause you 're a living thing,
+ It 's sport wi' them to lay you dead.
+
+ Ye Hieland and ye Lowland lads,
+ As birdies gay, as birdies gay,
+ Oh, spare them, whistling like yoursel's,
+ And hopping blythe from spray to spray!
+ Their wings were made to soar aloft,
+ And skim the air at liberty;
+ And as you freedom gi'e to them,
+ May you and yours be ever free!
+
+
+
+
+SAW YE NAE MY PEGGY?[53]
+
+
+ Saw ye nae my Peggy?
+ Saw ye nae my Peggy?
+ Saw ye nae my Peggy comin'
+ Through Tillibelton's broom?
+ I 'm frae Aberdagie,
+ Ower the crafts o' Craigie,
+ For aught I ken o' Peggie,
+ She 's ayont the moon.
+
+ 'Twas but at the dawin',
+ Clear the cock was crawin',
+ I saw Peggy cawin'
+ Hawky by the brier.
+ Early bells were ringin',
+ Blythest birds were singin',
+ Sweetest flowers were springin',
+ A' her heart to cheer.
+
+ Now the tempest's blawin',
+ Almond water 's flowin',
+ Deep and ford unknowin',
+ She maun cross the day.
+ Almond waters, spare her,
+ Safe to Lynedoch bear her!
+ Its braes ne'er saw a fairer,
+ Bess Bell nor Mary Gray.
+
+ Oh, now to be wi' her!
+ Or but ance to see her
+ Skaithless, far or near,
+ I 'd gie Scotland's crown.
+ Byeword, blind 's a lover--
+ Wha 's yon I discover?
+ Just yer ain fair rover,
+ Stately stappin' down.
+
+
+[53] Another song with the same title, "Saw ye nae my Peggy?" is
+inserted in the Collections. It first appeared in Herd's Collection, in
+1769, though it is understood to be of a considerably older date. Allan
+Ramsay composed two songs to the same air, but they are both inferior.
+The air is believed to have originally been connected with some
+exceptionable words, beginning, "Saw ye my Maggie?"
+
+
+
+
+GUDE NICHT, AND JOY BE WI' YE A'!
+
+
+ The best o' joys maun hae an end,
+ The best o' friends maun part, I trow;
+ The langest day will wear away,
+ And I maun bid fareweel to you.
+ The tear will tell when hearts are fu',
+ For words, gin they hae sense ava,
+ They 're broken, faltering, and few:
+ Gude nicht, and joy be wi' you a'!
+
+ Oh, we hae wander'd far and wide,
+ O'er Scotia's lands o' frith and fell!
+ And mony a simple flower we 've pu'd,
+ And twined it wi' the heather-bell.
+ We 've ranged the dingle and the dell,
+ The cot-house, and the baron's ha';
+ Now we maun tak a last farewell:
+ Gude nicht, and joy be wi' you a'!
+
+ My harp, fareweel! thy strains are past,
+ Of gleefu' mirth, and heartfelt care;
+ The voice of song maun cease at last,
+ And minstrelsy itsel' decay.
+ But, oh! whar sorrow canna win,
+ Nor parting tears are shed ava',
+ May we meet neighbour, kith, and kin,
+ And joy for aye be wi' us a'!
+
+
+
+
+CAULD KAIL IN ABERDEEN.[54]
+
+
+ There 's cauld kail in Aberdeen,
+ There 's castocks in Strabogie;
+ And morn and e'en, they 're blythe and bein,
+ That haud them frae the cogie.
+ Now, haud ye frae the cogie, lads;
+ O bide ye frae the cogie!
+ I 'll tell ye true, ye 'll never rue,
+ O' passin' by the cogie.
+
+ Young Will was braw and weel put on,
+ Sae blythe was he and vogie;
+ And he got bonnie Mary Don,
+ The flower o' a' Strabogie.
+ Wha wad hae thocht, at wooin' time,
+ He 'd e'er forsaken Mary,
+ And ta'en him to the tipplin' trade,
+ Wi' boozin' Rob and Harry?
+
+ Sair Mary wrought, sair Mary grat,
+ She scarce could lift the ladle;
+ Wi' pithless feet, 'tween ilka greet,
+ She 'd rock the borrow'd cradle.
+ Her weddin' plenishin' was gane,
+ She never thocht to borrow:
+ Her bonnie face was waxin' wan--
+ And Will wrought a' the sorrow.
+
+ He 's reelin' hame ae winter's nicht,
+ Some later than the gloamin';
+ He 's ta'en the rig, he 's miss'd the brig,
+ And Bogie 's ower him foamin'.
+ Wi' broken banes, out ower the stanes,
+ He creepit up Strabogie;
+ And a' the nicht he pray'd wi' micht,
+ To keep him frae the cogie.
+
+ Now Mary's heart is light again--
+ She 's neither sick nor silly;
+ For auld or young, nae sinfu' tongue,
+ Could e'er entice her Willie;
+ And aye the sang through Bogie rang--
+ "O had ye frae the cogie;
+ The weary gill 's the sairest ill
+ On braes o' fair Strabogie."
+
+
+[54] This excellent ballad is the fourth version adapted to the air,
+"Cauld Kail in Aberdeen." Some notice of the three former will be found
+_ante_, p. 46.
+
+
+
+
+HE'S OWER THE HILLS THAT I LO'E WEEL.
+
+
+ He 's ower the hills that I lo'e weel,
+ He 's ower the hills we daurna name;
+ He 's ower the hills ayont Dunblane,
+ Wha soon will get his welcome hame.
+
+ My father's gane to fight for him,
+ My brithers winna bide at hame;
+ My mither greets and prays for them,
+ And 'deed she thinks they 're no to blame.
+ He 's ower the hills, &c.
+
+ The Whigs may scoff, the Whigs may jeer;
+ But, ah! that love maun be sincere
+ Which still keeps true whate'er betide,
+ An' for his sake leaves a' beside.
+ He 's ower the hills, &c.
+
+ His right these hills, his right these plains;
+ Ower Hieland hearts secure he reigns;
+ What lads e'er did our laddies will do;
+ Were I a laddie, I'd follow him too.
+ He 's ower the hills, &c.
+
+ Sae noble a look, sae princely an air,
+ Sae gallant and bold, sae young and sae fair;
+ Oh, did ye but see him, ye 'd do as we've done!
+ Hear him but ance, to his standard you 'll run.
+ He 's ower the hills, &c.
+
+ Then draw the claymore, for Charlie then fight;
+ For your country, religion, and a' that is right;
+ Were ten thousand lives now given to me,
+ I 'd die as aft for ane o' the three.
+ He 's ower the hills, &c.
+
+
+
+
+THE LASS O' GOWRIE.[55]
+
+AIR--_"Loch Erroch Side."_
+
+
+ 'Twas on a summer's afternoon,
+ A wee afore the sun gaed down,
+ A lassie, wi' a braw new gown,
+ Cam' ower the hills to Gowrie.
+ The rose-bud, wash'd in summer's shower,
+ Bloom'd fresh within the sunny bower;
+ But Kitty was the fairest flower
+ That e'er was seen in Gowrie.
+
+ To see her cousin she cam' there,
+ An', oh, the scene was passing fair!
+ For what in Scotland can compare
+ Wi' the Carse o' Gowrie?
+ The sun was setting on the Tay,
+ The blue hills melting into gray;
+ The mavis' and the blackbird's lay
+ Were sweetly heard in Gowrie.
+
+ Oh, lang the lassie I had woo'd!
+ An' truth and constancy had vow'd,
+ But cam' nae speed wi' her I lo'ed,
+ Until she saw fair Gowrie.
+ I pointed to my faither's ha',
+ Yon bonnie bield ayont the shaw,
+ Sae loun' that there nae blast could blaw;
+ Wad she no bide in Gowrie?
+
+ Her faither was baith glad and wae;
+ Her mither she wad naething say;
+ The bairnies thocht they wad get play
+ If Kitty gaed to Gowrie.
+ She whiles did smile, she whiles did greet,
+ The blush and tear were on her cheek;
+ She naething said, an' hung her head;
+ But now she's Leddy Gowrie.
+
+
+[55] There are several other versions of this highly popular song. One
+of these, the composition of William Reid of Glasgow, has already been
+adduced. See _ante_, p. 157. Another, which is one of the most
+celebrated, in the first two verses is nearly the same with the opening
+stanzas of Lady Nairn's version, the sequel proceeding as follows:--
+
+ I praised her beauty loud an' lang,
+ Then round her waist my arms I flang,
+ And said, "My dearie, will ye gang
+ To see the Carse o' Gowrie?
+
+ "I'll tak ye to my father's ha',
+ In yon green field beside the shaw;
+ I'll mak you lady o' them a'--
+ The brawest wife in Gowrie."
+
+ Soft kisses on her lips I laid,
+ The blush upon her cheek soon spread;
+ She whisper'd modestly, and said,
+ "I'll gang wi' you to Gowrie."
+
+ The auld folks soon ga'e their consent,
+ Syne for Mess John they quickly sent,
+ Wha tied them to their heart's content,
+ And now she's Lady Gowrie.
+
+Mr Lyle, in his "Ancient Ballads and Songs" (Lond. 1827, 12mo, p. 138),
+presents an additional version, which we subjoin. Mr Lyle remarks, that
+he had revised it from an old stall copy, ascribed to Colonel James
+Ramsay of Stirling Castle.
+
+ THE BONNIE LASS O' GOWRIE.
+
+ A wee bit north frae yon green wood,
+ Whar draps the sunny showerie,
+ The lofty elm-trees spread their boughs,
+ To shade the braes o' Gowrie;
+ An' by yon burn ye scarce can see,
+ There stan's a rustic bowerie,
+ Whar lives a lass mair dear to me
+ Than a' the maids in Gowrie.
+
+ Nae gentle bard e'er sang her praise,
+ 'Cause fortune ne'er left dowrie;
+ The rose blaws sweetest in the shade,
+ So does the flower o' Gowrie.
+ When April strews her garlands roun',
+ Her bare foot treads the flowerie;
+ Her sang gars a' the woodlands ring,
+ That shade the braes o' Gowrie.
+
+ Her modest blush an' downcast e'e,
+ A flame sent beating through me;
+ For she surpasses all I've seen,
+ This peerless flower o' Gowrie.
+ I've lain upon the dewy green
+ Until the evening hourie,
+ An' thought gin e'er I durst ca' mine
+ The bonnie lass o' Gowrie.
+
+ The bushes that o'erhang the burn,
+ Sae verdant and sae flowerie,
+ Can witness that I love alane
+ The bonnie lass o' Gowrie.
+ Let ithers dream an' sigh for wealth,
+ An' fashions fleet and flowery;
+ Gi'e me that heav'nly innocence
+ Upon the braes o' Gowrie.
+
+
+
+
+THERE GROWS A BONNIE BRIER BUSH.[56]
+
+
+ There grows a bonnie brier bush in our kail-yard,
+ And white are the blossoms o't in our kail-yard,
+ Like wee bit white cockauds to deck our Hieland lads,
+ And the lasses lo'e the bonnie bush in our kail-yard.
+
+ An' it 's hame, an' it 's hame to the north countrie,
+ An' it 's hame, an' it 's hame to the north countrie,
+ Where my bonnie Jean is waiting for me,
+ Wi' a heart kind and true, in my ain countrie.
+
+ "But were they a' true that were far awa?
+ Oh! were they a' true that were far awa'?
+ They drew up wi' glaikit Englishers at Carlisle Ha',
+ And forgot auld frien's that were far awa.
+
+ "Ye 'll come nae mair, Jamie, where aft ye 've been,
+ Ye 'll come nae mair, Jamie, to Atholl's green;
+ Ye lo'ed ower weel the dancin' at Carlisle Ha',
+ And forgot the Hieland hills that were far awa'."
+
+ "I ne'er lo'ed a dance but on Atholl's green,
+ I ne'er lo'ed a lassie but my dorty Jean,
+ Sair, sair against my will did I bide sae lang awa',
+ And my heart was aye in Atholl's green at Carlisle Ha'."
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ The brier bush was bonnie ance in our kail-yard;
+ The brier bush was bonnie ance in our kail-yard;
+ A blast blew ower the hill, that gae Atholl's flowers a chill,
+ And the bloom 's blawn aff the bonnie bush in our kail-yard.
+
+
+[56] The present is an amended version of an old song, entitled "The
+Bonnie Brier Bush," altered and added to by Burns for the "Musical
+Museum."
+
+
+
+
+JOHN TOD.
+
+
+ He 's a terrible man, John Tod, John Tod,
+ He 's a terrible man, John Tod;
+ He scolds in the house,
+ He scolds at the door,
+ He scolds on the vera hie road, John Tod,
+ He scolds on the vera hie road.
+
+ The weans a' fear John Tod, John Tod,
+ The weans a' fear John Tod;
+ When he 's passing by,
+ The mithers will cry,--
+ Here 's an ill wean, John Tod, John Tod,
+ Here 's an ill wean, John Tod.
+
+ The callants a' fear John Tod, John Tod,
+ The callants a' fear John Tod;
+ If they steal but a neep,
+ The callant he 'll whip,
+ And it 's unco weel done o' John Tod, John Tod,
+ It 's unco weel done o' John Tod.
+
+ An' saw ye nae wee John Tod, John Tod?
+ Oh, saw ye nae wee John Tod?
+ His bannet was blue,
+ His shoon maistly new,
+ An' weel does he keep the kirk road, John Tod,
+ Oh, weel does he keep the kirk road.
+
+ How is he fendin', John Tod, John Tod?
+ How is he wendin', John Tod?
+ He 's scourin' the land,
+ Wi' his rung in his hand,
+ An' the French wadna frighten John Tod, John Tod,
+ An' the French wadna frighten John Tod.
+
+ Ye 're sun-brunt and batter'd, John Tod, John Tod
+ Ye 're tantit and tatter'd, John Tod;
+ Wi' your auld strippit coul,
+ Ye look maist like a fule,
+ But there 's nouse i' the lining,[57] John Tod, John Tod,
+ But there 's nouse i' the lining, John Tod.
+
+ He 's weel respeckit, John Tod, John Tod,
+ He 's weel respeckit, John Tod;
+ He 's a terrible man,
+ But we 'd a' gae wrang
+ If e'er he sud leave us, John Tod, John Tod,
+ If e'er he sud leave us, John Tod.
+
+
+[57] A familiar Scottish phrase for good sense.
+
+
+
+
+WILL YE NO COME BACK AGAIN?
+
+
+ Bonnie Charlie 's now awa',
+ Safely ower the friendly main;
+ Mony a heart will break in twa
+ Should he ne'er come back again.
+ Will ye no come back again?
+ Will ye no come back again?
+ Better lo'ed ye canna be--
+ Will ye no come back again?
+
+ Ye trusted in your Hieland men,
+ They trusted you, dear Charlie!
+ They kent your hiding in the glen,
+ Death or exile braving.
+ Will ye no, &c.
+
+ English bribes were a' in vain,
+ Tho' puir, and puirer, we maun be;
+ Siller canna buy the heart
+ That beats aye for thine and thee.
+ Will ye no, &c.
+
+ We watch'd thee in the gloamin' hour,
+ We watch'd thee in the mornin' gray;
+ Though thirty thousand pound they gi'e,
+ Oh, there is none that wad betray!
+ Will ye no, &c.
+
+ Sweet 's the laverock's note, and lang,
+ Lilting wildly up the glen;
+ But aye to me he sings ae sang,
+ Will ye no come back again?
+ Will ye no, &c.
+
+
+
+
+JAMIE THE LAIRD.
+
+AIR--_"The Rock and the Wee Pickle Tow."_
+
+
+ Send a horse to the water, ye 'll no mak him drink,
+ Send a fule to the college, ye 'll no mak him think;
+ Send a craw to the singin', an' still he will craw,
+ An' the wee laird had nae rummulgumshion ava.
+ Yet is he the pride o' his fond mother's e'e,
+ In body or mind, nae fau't can she see;
+ "He 's a fell clever lad, an' a bonny wee man,"
+ Is aye the beginnin' an' end o' her sang.
+ An' oh! she 's a haverin' lucky, I trow,
+ An' oh! she 's a haverin' lucky, I trow;
+ "He 's a fell clever lad, an' a bonny wee man,"
+ Is aye the beginnin' an' end o' her sang.
+
+ His legs they are bow'd, his een they do glee,
+ His wig, whiles it 's aff, and when on, it 's ajee;
+ He 's braid as he 's lang, an' ill-faur'd is he,
+ A dafter-like body I never did see.
+ An' yet for this cratur' she says I am deein',
+ When that I deny, she 's fear'd at my leein';
+ Obliged to put up wi' this sair defamation,
+ I'm liken to dee wi' grief an' vexation.
+ An' oh! she 's a haverin' lucky, &c.
+
+ An' her clishmaclavers gang a' through the toun,
+ An' the wee lairdie trows I 'll hang or I 'll droun.
+ Wi' his gawky-like face, yestreen he did say,
+ "I 'll maybe tak you, for Bess I 'll no hae,
+ Nor Mattie, nor Effie, nor lang-legged Jeanie,
+ Nor Nelly, nor Katie, nor skirlin' wee Beenie."
+ I stappit my ears, ran aff in a fury--
+ I 'm thinkin' to bring them afore judge an' jury.
+ For oh! what a randy auld luckie is she, &c.
+
+ Freen's! gi'e your advice!--I 'll follow your counsel--
+ Maun I speak to the Provost, or honest Toun Council,
+ Or the writers, or lawyers, or doctors? now say,
+ For the law on the lucky I shall an' will hae.
+ The hale toun at me are jibin' and jeerin',
+ For a leddy like me it 's really past bearin';
+ The lucky maun now hae dune wi' her claverin',
+ For I 'll no put up wi' her nor her haverin'.
+ For oh! she 's a randy, I trow, I trow,
+ For oh! she 's a randy, I trow, I trow;
+ "He 's a fell clever lad, an' a bonny wee man,"
+ Is aye the beginnin' an' end o' her sang.
+
+
+
+
+SONGS OF MY NATIVE LAND.
+
+AIR--_"Happy Land."_
+
+
+ Songs of my native land,
+ To me how dear!
+ Songs of my infancy,
+ Sweet to mine ear!
+ Entwined with my youthful days,
+ Wi' the bonny banks and braes,
+ Where the winding burnie strays,
+ Murmuring near.
+
+ Strains of my native land,
+ That thrill the soul,
+ Pouring the magic of
+ Your soft control!
+ Often has your minstrelsy
+ Soothed the pang of misery,
+ Winging rapid thoughts away
+ To realms on high.
+
+ Weary pilgrims _there_ have rest,
+ Their wand'rings o'er;
+ There the slave, no more oppress'd,
+ Hails Freedom's shore.
+ Sin shall then no more deface,
+ Sickness, pain, and sorrow cease,
+ Ending in eternal peace,
+ And songs of joy!
+
+ There, when the seraphs sing,
+ In cloudless day;
+ There, where the higher praise
+ The ransom'd pay.
+ Soft strains of the happy land,
+ Chanted by the heavenly band,
+ Who can fully understand
+ How sweet ye be!
+
+
+
+
+CASTELL GLOOM.[58]
+
+
+ Oh, Castell Gloom! thy strength is gone,
+ The green grass o'er thee growin';
+ On hill of _Care_ thou art alone,
+ The _Sorrow_ round thee flowin'.
+ Oh, Castell Gloom! on thy fair wa's
+ Nae banners now are streamin',
+ The houlet flits amang thy ha's,
+ And wild birds there are screamin'.
+ Oh! mourn the woe, oh! mourn the crime,
+ Frae civil war that flows;
+ Oh! mourn, Argyll, thy fallen line,
+ And mourn the great Montrose.
+
+ Here ladies bright were aften seen,
+ Here valiant warriors trod;
+ And here great Knox has aften been,
+ Wha fear'd nought but his God!
+ But a' are gane! the guid, the great,
+ And naething now remains,
+ But ruin sittin' on thy wa's,
+ And crumblin' down the stanes.
+ Oh! mourn the woe, &c.
+
+ Thy lofty Ochils bright did glow,
+ Though sleepin' was the sun;
+ But mornin's light did sadly show,
+ What ragin' flames had done.
+ Oh, mirk, mirk was the misty cloud,
+ That hung o'er thy wild wood!
+ Thou wert like beauty in a shroud,
+ And all was solitude.
+ Oh! mourn the woe, &c.
+
+
+[58] Castle Gloom, better known as Castle Campbell, was a residence of
+the noble family of Argyll, from the middle of the fifteenth till the
+middle of the seventeenth century, when it was burnt by the Marquis of
+Montrose--an enterprise to which he was excited by the Ogilvies, who
+thus sought revenge for the destruction, by the Marquis of Argyll, of
+the "bonnie house of Airlie." The castle is situated on a promontory of
+the Ochil hills, near the village of Dollar, in Clackmannanshire, and
+has long been in the ruinous condition described in the song. Two hill
+rivulets, designated _Sorrow_ and _Care_, proceed on either side of the
+castle promontory. John Knox, the Reformer, for some time resided in
+Castle Gloom, with Archibald, fourth Earl of Argyll, and here preached
+the Reformed doctrines.
+
+
+
+
+BONNIE GASCON HA'.
+
+
+ Lane, on the winding Earn there stands
+ An unco tow'r, sae stern an' auld,
+ Biggit by lang forgotten hands,
+ Ance refuge o' the Wallace bauld.
+
+ Time's restless fingers sair hath waur'd
+ And rived thy gray disjaskit wa',
+ But rougher hands nor Time's hae daur'd
+ To wrang thee, bonnie Gascon Ha'!
+
+ Oh, may a muse unkent to fame
+ For this dim greesome relic sue,
+ It 's linkit wi' a patriot's name,
+ The truest Scotland ever knew.
+
+ Just leave in peace each mossy stane
+ Tellin' o' nations' rivalry,
+ An' for succeeding ages hain
+ Remains o' Scottish chivalry.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ What though no monument to thee
+ Is biggit by thy country's hand;
+ Engraved are thy immortal deeds
+ On every heart o' this braid land.
+
+ Rude Time may monuments ding doun,
+ An' tow'rs an' wa's maun a' decay;
+ Enduring, deathless, noble chief,
+ Thy name can never pass away!
+
+ Gi'e pillar'd fame to common men,--
+ Nae need o' cairns for ane like thee;
+ In every cave, wood, hill, and glen,
+ "WALLACE" remember'd aye shall be.
+
+
+
+
+THE AULD HOUSE.
+
+
+ Oh, the auld house, the auld house!
+ What though the rooms were wee?
+ Oh, kind hearts were dwelling there,
+ And bairnies fu' o' glee!
+ The wild-rose and the jesamine
+ Still hang upon the wa';
+ How mony cherish'd memories
+ Do they, sweet flowers, reca'!
+
+ Oh, the auld laird, the auld laird!
+ Sae canty, kind, and crouse;
+ How mony did he welcome to
+ His ain wee dear auld house!
+ And the leddy too, sae genty,
+ There shelter'd Scotland's heir,
+ And clipt a lock wi' her ain hand
+ Frae his lang yellow hair.
+
+ The mavis still doth sweetly sing,
+ The blue bells sweetly blaw,
+ The bonnie Earn 's clear winding still,
+ But the auld house is awa'.
+ The auld house, the auld house,
+ Deserted though ye be,
+ There ne'er can be a new house,
+ Will seem sae fair to me.
+
+ Still flourishing the auld pear tree
+ The bairnies liked to see,
+ And oh, how aften did they speir
+ When ripe they a' wad be!
+ The voices sweet, the wee bit feet
+ Aye rinnin' here and there,
+ The merry shout--oh! whiles we greet
+ To think we 'll hear nae mair.
+
+ For they are a' wide scatter'd now,
+ Some to the Indies gane,
+ And ane, alas! to her lang hame;
+ Not here we 'll meet again.
+ The kirkyaird, the kirkyaird,
+ Wi' flowers o' every hue,
+ Shelter'd by the holly's shade,
+ An' the dark sombre yew.
+
+ The setting sun, the setting sun,
+ How glorious it gaed down;
+ The cloudy splendour raised our hearts
+ To cloudless skies aboon!
+ The auld dial, the auld dial,
+ It tauld how time did pass;
+ The wintry winds hae dung it down,--
+ Now hid 'mang weeds and grass.
+
+
+
+
+THE HUNDRED PIPERS.[59]
+
+AIR--_"Hundred Pipers."_
+
+
+ Wi' a hundred pipers, an' a', an' a',
+ Wi' a hundred pipers, an' a', an' a',
+ We 'll up, and we 'll gi'e them a blaw, a blaw,
+ Wi' a hundred pipers, an' a', an' a'.
+ It is ower the border, awa', awa',
+ It is ower the border, awa', awa',
+ Oh, we 'll on, an' we 'll march to Carlisle ha',
+ Wi' its yetts, its castel, an' a', an' a'.
+
+ Oh, our brave sodger lads look'd braw, an' braw,
+ Wi' their tartans, their kilts, an' a', an' a',
+ Wi' bannets an' feathers, an' glittrin' gear,
+ An' pibrochs soundin' sae sweet an' clear.
+ Will they a' come hame to their ain dear glen?
+ Will they a' return, our brave Hieland men?
+ Oh, second-sighted Sandie look'd fu' wae,
+ An' mithers grat sair whan they march'd away.
+ Wi' a hundred pipers, &c.
+
+ Oh, wha is the foremaist o' a', o' a'?
+ Wha is it first follows the blaw, the blaw?
+ Bonnie Charlie, the king o' us a', us a',
+ Wi' his hundred pipers, an' a', an' a'.
+ His bannet and feather, he 's waving high,
+ His prancin' steed maist seems to fly;
+ The nor' wind plays wi' his curly hair,
+ While the pipers blaw up an unco flare!
+ Wi' his hundred pipers, &c.
+
+ The Esk was swollen sae red an' sae deep,
+ But shouther to shouther the brave lads keep;
+ Twa thousand swam ower to fell English ground,
+ An' danced themselves dry to the pibroch sound.
+ Dumfounder'd the English were a', were a',
+ Dumfounder'd they a' heard the blaw, the blaw,
+ Dumfounder'd they a' ran awa', awa',
+ Frae the hundred pipers, an' a', an' a'.
+ Wi' a hundred pipers, &c.
+
+
+[59] "Charles Edward entered Carlisle preceded by a hundred pipers. Two
+thousand Highlanders crossed the Esk, at Longtown; the tide being
+swollen, nothing was seen of them but their heads and shoulders; they
+stemmed the force of the stream, and lost not a man in the passage: when
+landed, the pipers struck up, and they danced reels until they were dry
+again."--_Authentic Account of Occupation of Carlisle, by George G.
+Monsey._
+
+
+
+
+THE WOMEN ARE A' GANE WUD.[60]
+
+
+ The women are a' gane wud,
+ Oh, that he had biden awa'!
+ He 's turn'd their heads, the lad,
+ And ruin will bring on us a'.
+ George was a peaceable man,
+ My wife she did doucely behave;
+ But now dae a' that I can,
+ She 's just as wild as the lave.
+
+ My wife she wears the cockade,
+ Tho' I 've bidden her no to do sae,
+ She has a true friend in her maid,
+ And they ne'er mind a word that I say.
+ The wild Hieland lads as they pass,
+ The yetts wide open do flee;
+ They eat the very house bare,
+ And nae leave 's speer'd o' me.
+
+ I 've lived a' my days in the Strath
+ Now Tories infest me at hame,
+ And tho' I tak nae side at a',
+ Baith sides will gae me the blame.
+ The senseless creturs ne'er think
+ What ill the lad wad bring back;
+ The Pope we 'd hae, and the d--l,
+ And a' the rest o' his pack.
+
+
+[60] These verses are printed from a MS. in possession of one of Lady
+Nairn's friends, and are, the Editor believes, for the first time
+published.
+
+
+
+
+JEANIE DEANS.[61]
+
+
+ St Leonard's hill was lightsome land,
+ Where gowan'd grass was growin',
+ For man and beast were food and rest,
+ And milk and honey flowin'.
+ A father's blessing follow'd close,
+ Where'er her foot was treading,
+ And Jeanie's humble, hamely joys
+ On every side were spreading wide,
+ On every side were spreading.
+
+ The mossy turf on Arthur's Seat,
+ St Anthon's well aye springin';
+ The lammies playing at her feet,
+ The birdies round her singin'.
+ The solemn haunts o' Holyrood,
+ Wi' bats and hoolits eerie,
+ The tow'ring crags o' Salisbury,
+ The lowly wells o' Weary, O[62]
+ The lowly wells o' Weary.
+
+ But evil days and evil men,
+ Came ower their sunny dwellin',
+ Like thunder-storms on sunny skies,
+ Or wastefu' waters swellin'.
+ What aince was sweet is bitter now,
+ The sun of joy is setting;
+ In eyes that wont to glame wi' glee,
+ The briny tear is wetting fast,
+ The briny tear is wetting.
+
+ Her inmost thoughts to Heaven is sent,
+ In faithful supplication;
+ Her earthly stay 's Macallummore,
+ The guardian o' the nation.
+ A hero's heart--a sister's love--
+ A martyr's truth unbending;
+ They 're a' in Jeanie's tartan plaid--
+ And she is gane, her leefu' lane,
+ To Lunnon toun she 's wending!
+
+
+[61] The romantic scenery depicted in this song is in the immediate
+vicinity of the Queen's Drive, Edinburgh.
+
+[62] The wells of Weary are situated near the Windyknowe, beneath
+Salisbury Crags.
+
+
+
+
+THE HEIRESS.[63]
+
+GAELIC AIR--_"Mo Leannan Falnich."_
+
+
+ I 'll no be had for naething,
+ I 'll no be had for naething,
+ I tell ye, lads, that 's ae thing,
+ So ye needna follow me.
+ Oh, the change is most surprising,
+ Last year I was plain Betty Brown,
+ Now to me they 're a' aspiring,--
+ The fair Elizabeth I am grown!
+
+ What siller does is most amazing,
+ Nane o' them e'er look'd at me,
+ Now my charms they a' are praising,
+ For my sake they 're like to dee.
+ The Laird, the Shirra, and the Doctor,
+ Wi' twa three Lords o' high degree;
+ Wi' heaps o' Writers I could mention--
+ Oh, surely this is no me!
+ But I 'll no, &c.
+
+ The yett is now for ever ringing,
+ Showers o' valentines aye bringing,
+ Fill'd wi' Cupids, flames, and darts,
+ Fae auld and young, wi' broken hearts.
+ The siller, O the weary siller!
+ Aft in toil and trouble sought,
+ But better far it should be sae,
+ Than that true hearts should e'er be bought.
+ Sae I 'll no, &c.
+
+ But there is ane, when I had naething,
+ A' his heart he gi'ed to me;
+ And sair he toil'd for a wee thing,
+ To bring me when he cam frae sea.
+ If ever I should marry ony,
+ He will be the lad for me;
+ For he was baith gude and bonny,
+ And he thought the same o' me.
+ Sae I 'll no, &c.
+
+
+[63] This song is printed from an improved version of the original, by a
+literary friend of the author.
+
+
+
+
+THE MITHERLESS LAMMIE.
+
+
+ The mitherless lammie ne'er miss'd its ain mammie,
+ We tentit it kindly by night and by day,
+ The bairnies made game o't, it had a blithe hame o't,
+ Its food was the gowan--its music was "_mai_."
+
+ Without tie or fetter, it couldna been better,
+ But it would gae witless the world to see;
+ The foe that it fear'd not, it saw not, it heard not,
+ Was watching its wand'ring frae Bonnington Lea.
+
+ Oh, what then befell it, 't were waefu' to tell it,
+ Tod Lowrie kens best, wi' his lang head sae sly;
+ He met the pet lammie, that wanted its mammie,
+ And left its kind hame the wide world to try.
+
+ We miss'd it at day-dawn, we miss'd it at night-fa'in',
+ Its wee shed is tenantless under the tree,
+ Ae dusk i' the gloamin' it wad gae a roamin';
+ 'T will frolic nae mair upon Bonnington Lea.
+
+
+
+
+THE ATTAINTED SCOTTISH NOBLES.[64]
+
+
+ Oh, some will tune their mournfu' strains,
+ To tell o' hame-made sorrow,
+ And if they cheat you o' your tears,
+ They 'll dry upon the morrow.
+ Oh, some will sing their airy dreams,
+ In verity they're sportin',
+ My sang 's o' nae sic thieveless themes,
+ But wakin' true misfortune.
+
+ Ye Scottish nobles, ane and a',
+ For loyalty attainted,
+ A nameless bardie 's wae to see
+ Your sorrows unlamented;
+ For if your fathers ne'er had fought
+ For heirs of ancient royalty,
+ Ye 're down the day that might hae been
+ At the top o' honour's tree a'.
+
+ For old hereditary right,
+ For conscience' sake they stoutly stood;
+ And for the crown their valiant sons
+ Themselves have shed their injured blood;
+ And if their fathers ne'er had fought
+ For heirs of ancient royalty,
+ They 're down the day that might hae been
+ At the top o' honour's tree a'.
+
+
+[64] This song having become known to George IV., it is said to have
+induced his Majesty to award the royal sanction for the restitution of
+the title of Baron to Lady Nairn's husband.--(See Memoir.)
+
+
+
+
+TRUE LOVE IS WATERED AYE WI' TEARS.[65]
+
+
+ True love is water'd aye wi' tears,
+ It grows 'neath stormy skies,
+ It 's fenced around wi' hopes and fears
+ An' fann'd wi' heartfelt sighs.
+ Wi' chains o' gowd it will no be bound,
+ Oh! wha the heart can buy?
+ The titled glare, the warldling's care,
+ Even absence 'twill defy,
+ Even absence 'twill defy.
+
+ And time, that kills a' ither things,
+ His withering touch 'twill brave,
+ 'Twill live in joy, 'twill live in grief,
+ 'Twill live beyond the grave!
+ 'Twill live, 'twill live, though buried deep,
+ In true heart's memorie--
+ Oh! we forgot that ane sae fair,
+ Sae bricht, sae young, could dee,
+ Sae young could dee.
+
+ Unfeeling hands may touch the chord
+ Where buried griefs do lie--
+ How many silent agonies
+ May that rude touch untie!
+ But, oh! I love that plaintive lay--
+ That dear auld melodie!
+ For, oh, 'tis sweet!--yet I maun greet,
+ For it was sung by thee,
+ Sung by thee!
+
+ They may forget wha lichtly love,
+ Or feel but beauty's chain;
+ But they wha loved a heavenly mind
+ Can never love again!
+ A' my dreams o' warld's guid
+ Aye were turn'd wi' thee,
+ But I leant on a broken reed
+ Which soon was ta'en frae me,
+ Ta'en frae me.
+
+ 'Tis weel, 'tis weel, we dinna ken
+ What we may live to see,
+ 'Twas Mercy's hand that hung the veil
+ O'er sad futurity!
+ Oh, ye whose hearts are scathed and riven,
+ Wha feel the warld is vain,
+ Oh, fix your broken earthly ties
+ Where they ne'er will break again,
+ Break again!
+
+
+[65] Here first printed.
+
+
+
+
+AH, LITTLE DID MY MOTHER THINK.[66]
+
+
+ Ah, little did my mother think
+ When to me she sung,
+ What a heartbreak I would be,
+ Her young and dautit son.
+
+ And oh! how fond she was o' me
+ In plaid and bonnet braw,
+ When I bade farewell to the north countrie,
+ And marching gaed awa!
+
+ Ah! little did my mother think
+ A banish'd man I 'd be,
+ Sent frae a' my kith and kin,
+ Them never mair to see.
+
+ Oh! father, 'twas the sugar'd drap
+ Aft ye did gi'e to me,
+ That has brought a' this misery
+ Baith to you and me.
+
+
+[66] These verses are here first printed.
+
+
+
+
+WOULD YOU BE YOUNG AGAIN?[67]
+
+AIR--_"Ailen Aroon."_
+
+
+ Would you be young again?
+ So would not I--
+ One tear to memory given,
+ Onward I 'd hie.
+ Life's dark flood forded o'er,
+ All but at rest on shore,
+ Say, would you plunge once more,
+ With home so nigh?
+
+ If you might, would you now
+ Retrace your way?
+ Wander through stormy wilds,
+ Faint and astray?
+ Night's gloomy watches fled,
+ Morning all beaming red,
+ Hope's smiles around us shed,
+ Heavenward--away.
+
+ Where, then, are those dear ones,
+ Our joy and delight?
+ Dear and more dear though now
+ Hidden from sight.
+ Where they rejoice to be,
+ There is the land for me;
+ Fly, time, fly speedily;
+ Come, life and light.
+
+
+[67] This song was composed in 1842, when the author had attained her
+seventy-sixth year. The four lays following, breathing the same
+devotional spirit, appear to have been written about the same period of
+the author's life. The present song is printed from the original MS.
+
+
+
+
+REST IS NOT HERE.
+
+
+ What 's this vain world to me?
+ Rest is not here;
+ False are the smiles I see,
+ The mirth I hear.
+ Where is youth's joyful glee?
+ Where all once dear to me?
+ Gone, as the shadows flee--
+ Rest is not here.
+
+ Why did the morning shine
+ Blythely and fair?
+ Why did those tints so fine
+ Vanish in air?
+ Does not the vision say,
+ Faint, lingering heart, away,
+ Why in this desert stay--
+ Dark land of care!
+
+ Where souls angelic soar,
+ Thither repair;
+ Let this vain world no more
+ Lull and ensnare.
+ That heaven I love so well
+ Still in my heart shall dwell;
+ All things around me tell
+ Rest is found there.
+
+
+
+
+HERE'S TO THEM THAT ARE GANE.
+
+AIR--_"Here 's a health to ane I lo'e weel."_
+
+
+ Here 's to them, to them that are gane;
+ Here 's to them, to them that are gane;
+ Here 's to them that were here, the faithful and dear,
+ That will never be here again--no, never.
+ But where are they now that are gane?
+ Oh, where are the faithful and true?
+ They 're gane to the light that fears not the night,
+ An' their day of rejoicing shall end--no, never.
+
+ Here 's to them, to them that were here;
+ Here 's to them, to them that were here;
+ Here 's a tear and a sigh to the bliss that 's gane by,
+ But 'twas ne'er like what 's coming, to last--for ever.
+ Oh, bright was their morning sun!
+ Oh, bright was their morning sun!
+ Yet, lang ere the gloaming, in clouds it gaed down;
+ But the storm and the cloud are now past--for ever.
+
+ Fareweel, fareweel! parting silence is sad;
+ Oh, how sad the last parting tear!
+ But that silence shall break, where no tear on the cheek
+ Can bedim the bright vision again--no, never.
+ Then, speed to the wings of old Time,
+ That waft us where pilgrims would be;
+ To the regions of rest, to the shores of the blest,
+ Where the full tide of glory shall flow--for ever.
+
+
+
+
+FAREWEEL, O FAREWEEL!
+
+GAELIC AIR.
+
+
+ Fareweel, O fareweel!
+ My heart it is sair;
+ Fareweel, O fareweel!
+ I 'll see him nae mair.
+
+ Lang, lang was he mine,
+ Lang, lang--but nae mair;
+ I mauna repine,
+ But my heart it is sair.
+
+ His staff 's at the wa',
+ Toom, toom is his chair!
+ His bannet, an' a'!
+ An' I maun be here!
+
+ But oh! he 's at rest,
+ Why sud I complain?
+ Gin my soul be blest,
+ I 'll meet him again.
+
+ Oh, to meet him again,
+ Where hearts ne'er were sair!
+ Oh, to meet him again,
+ To part never mair!
+
+
+
+
+THE DEAD WHO HAVE DIED IN THE LORD.[68]
+
+
+ Go, call for the mourners, and raise the lament,
+ Let the tresses be torn, and the garments be rent;
+ But weep not for him who is gone to his rest,
+ Nor mourn for the ransom'd, nor wail for the blest.
+ The sun is not set, but is risen on high,
+ Nor long in corruption his body shall lie--
+ Then let not the tide of thy griefs overflow,
+ Nor the music of heaven be discord below;
+ Rather loud be the song, and triumphant the chord,
+ Let us joy for the dead who have died in the Lord.
+
+ Go, call for the mourners, and raise the lament,
+ Let the tresses be torn, and the garments be rent;
+ But give to the living thy passion of tears
+ Who walk in this valley of sadness and fears,
+ Who are press'd by the combat, in darkness are lost,
+ By the tempest are beat, on the billows are toss'd.
+ Oh, weep not for those who shall sorrow no more,
+ Whose warfare is ended, whose combat is o'er;
+ Let the song be exalted, be triumphant the chord,
+ And rejoice for the dead who have died in the Lord.
+
+
+[68] These stanzas are printed for the first time. The MS. is not in
+Lady Nairn's handwriting, but there is every reason to assign to her the
+authorship.
+
+
+
+
+JAMES NICOL.
+
+
+James Nicol, the son of Michael Nicol and Marion Hope, was born at
+Innerleithen, in the county of Peebles, on the 28th of September 1769.
+Having acquired the elements of classical knowledge under Mr Tate, the
+parochial schoolmaster, he was sent to the University of Edinburgh,
+where he pursued study with unflinching assiduity and success. On
+completing his academical studies, he was licensed as a probationer by
+the Presbytery of Peebles. His first professional employment was as an
+assistant to the minister of Traquair, a parish bordering on that of
+Innerleithen; and on the death of the incumbent, Mr Nicol succeeded to
+the living. On the 4th of November 1802, he was ordained to the
+ministerial office; and on the 25th of the same month and year, he
+espoused Agnes Walker, a native of Glasgow, and the sister of his
+immediate predecessor, who had for a considerable period possessed a
+warm place in his affections, and been the heroine of his poetical
+reveries. He had for some time been in the habit of communicating verses
+to the _Edinburgh Magazine_; and he afterwards published a collection of
+"Poems, chiefly in the Scottish Dialect," Edinburgh, 1805, 2 vols. 12mo.
+This publication, which was well received, contains some lyrical
+effusions that entitle the author to a respectable rank among the modern
+cultivators of national poetry; yet it is to be regretted that a deep
+admiration of Burns has led him into an imitation, somewhat servile, of
+that immortal bard.
+
+At Traquair Mr Nicol continued to devote himself to mental improvement.
+He read extensively; and writing upon the subject of his studies was his
+daily habit. He was never robust, being affected with a chronic disorder
+of the stomach; and when sickness prevented him, as occasionally
+happened, from writing in a sitting posture, he would for hours together
+have devoted himself to composition in a standing position. Of his prose
+writings, which were numerous, the greater number still remain in MS.,
+in the possession of his elder son. During his lifetime, he contributed
+a number of articles to the _Edinburgh Encyclopædia_, among which are
+"Baptism," "Baptistry," "Baptists," "Bithynia," and "Cranmer." His
+posthumous work, "An Essay on the Nature and Design of Scripture
+Sacrifices," was published in an octavo volume in the year 1823.
+
+Mr Nicol was much respected for his sound discernment in matters of
+business, as well as for his benevolent disposition. Every dispute in
+the vicinity was submitted to his adjudication, and his counsel checked
+all differences in the district. He was regularly consulted as a
+physician, for he had studied medicine at the University. From his own
+medicine chest he dispensed gratuitously to the indigent sick; and
+without fee he vaccinated all the children of the neighbourhood who were
+brought to him. After a short illness, he died on the 5th of November
+1819. Of a family of three sons and three daughters, the eldest son
+predeceased him; two sons and two daughters still survive. The elder
+son, who bears his father's Christian name, is Professor of Civil and
+Natural History in Marischal College, Aberdeen, and is well known as a
+geologist. Mrs Nicol survived her husband till the 19th of March 1845.
+
+
+
+
+BLAW SAFTLY, YE BREEZES.
+
+
+ Blaw saftly, ye breezes, ye streams, smoothly murmur,
+ Ye sweet-scented blossoms, deck every green tree;
+ 'Mong your wild scatter'd flow'rets aft wanders my charmer,
+ The sweet lovely lass wi' the black rollin' e'e.
+ For pensive I ponder, and languishin' wander,
+ Far frae the sweet rosebud on Quair's windin' stream!
+
+ Why, Heaven, wring my heart wi' the hard heart o' anguish?
+ Why torture my bosom 'tween hope and despair?
+ When absent frae Nancy, I ever maun languish!--
+ That dear angel smile, shall it charm me nae mair?
+ Since here life 's a desert, an' pleasure 's a dream,
+ Bear me swift to those banks which are ever my theme,
+ Where, mild as the mornin' at simmer's returnin',
+ Blooms the sweet lovely rosebud on Quair's windin' stream.
+
+
+
+
+BY YON HOARSE MURMURIN' STREAM.
+
+
+ By yon hoarse murmurin' stream, 'neath the moon's chilly beam,
+ Sadly musin' I wander, an' the tear fills my e'e;
+ Recollection, pensive power, brings back the mournfu' hour,
+ When the laddie gaed awa' that is dear, dear to me.
+
+ The tender words he said, and the faithfu' vows he made,
+ When we parted, to my bosom a mournfu' pleasure gie;
+ An' I lo'e to pass the day where we fondly used to stray,
+ An' repeat the laddie's name that is dear, dear to me.
+
+ Though the flow'rets gem the vales, an' scent the whisperin' gales,
+ An' the birds fill wi' music the sweetly-bloomin' tree;
+ Though nature bid rejoice, yet sorrow tunes my voice,
+ For the laddie 's far awa' that is dear, dear to me!
+
+ When the gloamin' brings alang the time o' mirth an' sang,
+ An' the dance kindles joy in ilka youthfu' e'e,
+ My neebours aften speir, why fa's the hidden tear?
+ But they kenna he's awa' that is dear, dear to me.
+
+ Oh, for the happy hour, when I shall hae the power,
+ To the darlin' o' my soul, on wings o' love, to flee!
+ Or that the day wad come, when fortune shall bring home,
+ The laddie to my arms that is dear, dear to me.
+
+ But if--for much I fear--that day will ne'er appear,
+ Frae me conceal in darkness the cruel stern decree;
+ For life wad a' be vain, were I ne'er to meet again,
+ Wi' the laddie far awa' that is dear, dear to me.
+
+
+
+
+HALUCKIT MEG.
+
+
+ Meg, muckin' at Geordie's byre,
+ Wrought as gin her judgment was wrang;
+ Ilk daud o' the scartle strake fire,
+ While loud as a lavrock she sang.
+ Her Geordie had promised to marry,
+ An' Meg, a sworn fae to despair,
+ Not dreamin' the job could miscarry,
+ Already seem'd mistress an' mair.
+
+ "My neebours," she sang, "aften jeer me,
+ An' ca' me daft haluckit Meg,
+ An' say they expect soon to hear me,
+ I' the kirk, for my fun, get a fleg.
+ An' now, 'bout my marriage they 'll clatter,
+ An' Geordie, puir fallow, they ca'
+ An auld doited hav'rel,--nae matter,
+ He 'll keep me aye brankin an' braw.
+
+ "I grant ye, his face is kenspeckle,
+ That the white o' his e'e is turn'd out,
+ That his black beard is rough as a heckle,
+ That his mou' to his lug 's rax'd about;
+ But they needna let on that he 's crazie,
+ His pikestaff will ne'er let him fa';
+ Nor that his hair 's white as a daisy,
+ For fient a hair has he ava'.
+
+ "But a weel-plenish'd mailin has Geordie,
+ An' routh o' gude gowd in his kist,
+ An' if siller comes at my wordie,
+ His beauty I never will miss 't.
+ Daft gowks, wha catch fire like tinder,
+ Think love-raptures ever will burn?
+ But wi' poortith, hearts het as a cinder,
+ Will cauld as an iceshugle turn.
+
+ "There 'll just be ae bar to my pleasures,
+ A bar that 's aft fill'd me wi' fear,
+ He 's sic a hard near-be-gawn miser,
+ He likes his saul less than his gear.
+ But though I now flatter his failin',
+ An' swear nought wi' gowd can compare,
+ Gude sooth! it shall soon get a scailin',
+ His bags sall be mouldie nae mair!
+
+ "I dreamt that I rode in a chariot,
+ A flunkie ahint me in green;
+ While Geordie cried out he was harriet,
+ An' the saut tear was blindin' his een.
+ But though 'gainst my spendin' he swear aye,
+ I'll hae frae him what ser's my turn;
+ Let him slip awa' whan he grows wearie;
+ Shame fa' me, gin lang I wad mourn!"
+
+ But Geordie, while Meg was haranguin',
+ Was cloutin' his breeks i' the bauks;
+ An' whan a' his failin's she brang in,
+ His strang hazel pikestaff he taks,
+ Designin' to rax her a lounder,
+ He chanced on the lather to shift,
+ An' down frae the bauks, flat 's a flounder,
+ Flew like a shot starn frae the lift!
+
+
+
+
+MY DEAR LITTLE LASSIE.
+
+
+ My dear little lassie, why, what 's a' the matter?
+ My heart it gangs pittypat--winna lie still;
+ I 've waited, and waited, an' a' to grow better,
+ Yet, lassie, believe me, I 'm aye growin' ill!
+ My head 's turn'd quite dizzy, an' aft, when I 'm speakin',
+ I sigh, an' am breathless, and fearfu' to speak;
+ I gaze aye for something I fain would be seekin',
+ Yet, lassie, I kenna weel what I would seek.
+
+ Thy praise, bonnie lassie, I ever could hear of,
+ And yet, when to ruse ye the neebour lads try--
+ Though it 's a' true they tell ye--yet never sae far off
+ I could see 'em ilk ane, an' I canna tell why.
+ When we tedded the hayfield, I raked ilka rig o't,
+ And never grew weary the lang simmer day;
+ The rucks that ye wrought at were easiest biggit,
+ And I fand sweeter scented around ye the hay.
+
+ In har'st, whan the kirn-supper joys mak us cheerie,
+ 'Mang the lave o' the lasses I preed yer sweet mou';
+ Dear save us! how queer I felt whan I cam' near ye--
+ My breast thrill'd in rapture, I couldna tell how.
+ When we dance at the gloamin', it 's you I aye pitch on;
+ And gin ye gang by me, how dowie I be!
+ There 's something, dear lassie, about ye bewitching,
+ That tells me my happiness centres in thee.
+
+
+
+
+JAMES MONTGOMERY.
+
+
+James Montgomery, the spiritual character of whose writings has gained
+him the honourable designation of the Christian Poet, was born at
+Irvine, in the county of Ayr, on the 4th of November 1771. His father,
+John Montgomery, was a missionary of the Moravian Brethren, and in this
+capacity came to Irvine from Ireland, only a few days before the birth
+of James, his eldest son. In his fourth year he returned to Ireland with
+his parents, and received the rudiments of his education from the
+village schoolmaster of Grace Hill, a settlement of the Moravian
+Brethren in the county of Antrim. In October 1777, in his seventh year,
+he was placed by his father in the seminary of the Moravian settlement
+of Fulneck, near Leeds; and on the departure of his parents to the West
+Indies, in 1783, he was committed to the care of the Brethren, with the
+view of his being trained for their Church. He was not destined to see
+his parents again. His mother died at Barbadoes, in November 1790, and
+his father after an interval of eight months.
+
+In consequence of his indolent habits, which were incorrigible, young
+Montgomery was removed from the seminary at Fulneck, and placed in the
+shop of a baker at Mirfield, in the vicinity. He was then in his
+sixteenth year; and having already afforded evidence of a refined
+taste, both in poetry and music, though careless of the ordinary routine
+of scholastic instruction, his new occupation was altogether uncongenial
+to his feelings. He, however, remained about eighteen months in the
+baker's service, but at length made a hasty escape from Mirfield, with
+only three shillings and sixpence in his pocket, and seemingly without
+any scheme except that of relieving himself from an irksome employment.
+But an accidental circumstance speedily enabled him to obtain an
+engagement with a shopkeeper in Wath, now a station on the railway
+between London and Leeds; and in procuring this employment, he was
+indebted to the recommendation of his former master, whose service he
+had unceremoniously quitted. But this new situation had few advantages
+over the old, and he relinquished it in about a year to try his fortune
+in the metropolis. He had previously sent a manuscript volume of poetry
+to Harrison, the bookseller of Paternoster Row, who, while declining to
+publish it, commended the author's talents, and so far promoted his
+views as now to receive him into his establishment. But Montgomery's
+aspirations had no reference to serving behind a counter; he only
+accepted a place in the bookseller's establishment that he might have an
+opportunity of leisurely feeling his way as an author. His literary
+efforts, however, still proved fruitless. He composed essays and tales,
+and wrote a romance in the manner of Fielding, but none of his
+productions could find a publisher. Mortified by his failures, he
+quitted London in eight months, and returned to the shop of his former
+employer at Wath. After the interval of another year, he proceeded to
+Sheffield, to occupy a situation under Mr Joseph Gales, a bookseller,
+and the proprietor of the _Register_ newspaper.
+
+Montgomery was now in his twenty-first year, and fortune at length
+began, though with many lowering intervals, to smile upon his youthful
+aspirations. Though he occupied a subordinate post in Mr Gales'
+establishment, his literary services were accepted for the _Register_,
+in which he published many of his earlier compositions, both in prose
+and verse. This journal had advocated sentiments of an ultra-liberal
+order, and commanding a wide circulation and a powerful influence among
+the operatives in Sheffield, had been narrowly inspected by the
+authorities. At length the proprietor fell into the snare of
+sympathising in the transactions of the French revolutionists; he was
+prosecuted for sedition, and deemed himself only safe from compulsory
+exile by a voluntary exit to America. This event took place about two
+years after Montgomery's first connexion with Sheffield, and he had now
+reverted to his former condition of abject dependence unless for a
+fortunate occurrence. This was no less than his being appointed
+joint-proprietor and editor of the newspaper by a wealthy individual,
+who, noticing the abilities of the young shopman, purchased the
+copyright with the view of placing the management entirely in his hands.
+
+The first number of the newspaper under the poet's care, the name being
+changed to that of _The Sheffield Iris_, appeared in July 1794; and
+though the principles of the journal were moderate and conciliatory in
+comparison with the democratic sentiments espoused by the former
+publisher, the jealous eye of the authorities rested on its new
+conductor. He did not escape their vigilance; for the simple offence of
+printing for a ballad-vender some verses of a song celebrating the fall
+of the Bastile, he was libelled as "a wicked, malicious, seditious, and
+evil-disposed person;" and being tried before the Doncaster Quarter
+Sessions, in January 1795, was sentenced to three months' imprisonment
+in the Castle of York. He was condemned to a second imprisonment of six
+months in the autumn of the same year, for inserting in his paper an
+account of a riot in the place, in which he was considered to have cast
+aspersions on a colonel of volunteers. The calm mind of the poet did not
+sink under these persecutions, and some of his best lyrics were composed
+during the period of his latter confinement. During his first detention
+he wrote a series of interesting essays for his newspaper. His "Prison
+Amusements," a series of beautiful pieces, appeared in 1797. In 1805, he
+published his poem, "The Ocean;" in 1806, "The Wanderer in Switzerland;"
+in 1808, "The West Indies;" and in 1812, "The World before the Flood."
+In 1819 he published "Greenland, a Poem, in Five Cantos;" and in 1825
+appeared "The Pelican Island, and other Poems." Of all those
+productions, "The Wanderer in Switzerland" attained the widest
+circulation; and, notwithstanding an unfavourable and injudicious
+criticism in the _Edinburgh Review_, at once procured an honourable
+place for the author among his contemporaries. He became sole proprietor
+of the _Iris_ in one year after his being connected with it, and he
+continued to conduct this paper till September 1825, when he retired
+from public duty. He subsequently contributed articles for different
+periodicals; but he chiefly devoted himself to the moral and religious
+improvement of his fellow-townsmen. A pension of £150 on the civil list
+was conferred upon him as an acknowledgment of his services in behalf of
+literature and of philanthropy; a well-merited public boon which for
+many years he was spared to enjoy. He died at his residence, The Mount,
+Sheffield, on the 30th of April 1854, in the eighty-second year of his
+age. He bequeathed handsome legacies to various public charities. His
+Poetical Works, in a collected form, were published in 1850 by the
+Messrs Longman, in one octavo volume; and in 1853 he gave to the world
+his last work, being "Original Hymns, for Public, Private, and Social
+Devotion." Copious memoirs of his life are now in the course of
+publication.
+
+As a poet, Montgomery is conspicuous for the smoothness of his
+versification, and for the fervent piety pervading all his compositions.
+As a man, he was gentle and conciliatory, and was remarkable as a
+generous promoter of benevolent institutions. The general tendency of
+his poems was thus indicated by himself, in the course of an address
+which he made at a public dinner, given him at Sheffield, in November
+1825, immediately after the toast of his health being proposed by the
+chairman, Lord Viscount Milton, now Earl Fitzwilliam:--
+
+ "I sang of war--but it was the war of freedom, in which death was
+ preferred to chains. I sang the abolition of the slave trade, that
+ most glorious decree of the British Legislature at any period since
+ the Revolution, by the first Parliament in which you, my Lord, sat
+ as the representative of Yorkshire. Oh, how should I rejoice to
+ sing the abolition of slavery itself by some Parliament of which
+ your Lordship shall yet be a member! This greater act of righteous
+ legislation is surely not too remote to be expected even in our own
+ day. Renouncing the slave trade was only 'ceasing to do evil;'
+ extinguishing slavery will be 'learning to do well.' Again, I sang
+ of love--the love of country, the love of my own country; for,
+
+ 'Next to heaven above,
+ Land of my fathers! thee I love;
+ And, rail thy slanderers as they will,
+ With all thy faults I love thee still.'
+
+ I sang, likewise, the love of home--its charities, endearments and
+ relationships--all that makes 'Home sweet Home,' the recollection
+ of which, when the air of that name was just now played from yonder
+ gallery, warmed every heart throughout this room into quicker
+ pulsations. I sang the love which man ought to bear towards his
+ brother, of every kindred, and country, and clime upon earth. I
+ sang the love of virtue, which elevates man to his true standard
+ under heaven. I sang, too, the love of God, who _is_ love. Nor did
+ I sing in vain. I found readers and listeners, especially among the
+ young, the fair, and the devout; and as youth, beauty, and piety
+ will not soon cease out of the land, I may expect to be remembered
+ through another generation at least, if I leave anything behind me
+ worthy of remembrance. I may add that, from every part of the
+ British empire, from every quarter of the world where our language
+ is spoken--from America, the East and West Indies, from New
+ Holland, and the South Sea Islands themselves--I have received
+ testimonies of approbation from all ranks and degrees of readers,
+ hailing what I had done, and cheering me forward. I allude not to
+ criticisms and eulogiums from the press, but to voluntary
+ communications from unknown correspondents, coming to me like
+ voices out of darkness, and giving intimation of that which the ear
+ of a poet is always hearkening onward to catch--the voice of
+ posterity."
+
+
+
+
+"FRIENDSHIP, LOVE, AND TRUTH."
+
+
+ When "Friendship, Love, and Truth" abound
+ Among a band of brothers,
+ The cup of joy goes gaily round,
+ Each shares the bliss of others.
+ Sweet roses grace the thorny way
+ Along this vale of sorrow;
+ The flowers that shed their leaves to-day
+ Shall bloom again to-morrow.
+ How grand in age, how fair in youth,
+ Are holy "Friendship, Love, and Truth!"
+
+ On halcyon wings our moments pass,
+ Life's cruel cares beguiling;
+ Old Time lays down his scythe and glass,
+ In gay good-humour smiling:
+ With ermine beard and forelock gray,
+ His reverend part adorning,
+ He looks like Winter turn'd to May,
+ Night soften'd into Morning.
+ How grand in age, how fair in youth,
+ Are holy "Friendship, Love, and Truth!"
+
+ From these delightful fountains flow
+ Ambrosial rills of pleasure;
+ Can man desire, can Heaven bestow,
+ A more resplendent treasure?
+ Adorn'd with gems so richly bright,
+ Will form a constellation,
+ Where every star, with modest light,
+ Shall gild its proper station.
+ How grand in age, how fair in youth,
+ Are holy "Friendship, Love, and Truth!"
+
+
+
+
+THE SWISS COWHERD'S SONG IN A FOREIGN LAND.
+
+IMITATED FROM THE FRENCH.
+
+
+ Oh, when shall I visit the land of my birth--
+ The loveliest land on the face of the earth?
+ When shall I those scenes of affection explore,
+ Our forests, our fountains,
+ Our hamlets, our mountains,
+ With pride of our mountains, the maid I adore?
+ Oh, when shall I dance on the daisy-white mead,
+ In the shade of an elm, to the sound of a reed?
+
+ When shall I return to that lowly retreat,
+ Where all my fond objects of tenderness meet,--
+ The lambs and the heifers, that follow my call,
+ My father, my mother,
+ My sister, my brother,
+ And dear Isabella, the joy of them all?
+ Oh, when shall I visit the land of my birth?--
+ 'Tis the loveliest land on the face of the earth.
+
+
+
+
+GERMAN WAR-SONG.[69]
+
+
+ Heaven speed the righteous sword,
+ And freedom be the word;
+ Come, brethren, hand in hand,
+ Fight for your fatherland.
+
+ Germania from afar
+ Invokes her sons to war;
+ Awake! put forth your powers,
+ And victory must be ours.
+
+ On to the combat, on!
+ Go where your sires have gone;
+ Their might unspent remains,
+ Their pulse is in our veins.
+
+ On to the battle, on!
+ Rest will be sweet anon;
+ The slave may yield, may fly,--
+ We conquer, or we die!
+
+ O Liberty! thy form
+ Shines through the battle-storm.
+ Away with fear, away!
+ Let justice win the day.
+
+
+[69] The simple and sublime original of these stanzas, with the fine air
+by Hümmel, became the national song of Germany, and was sung by the
+soldiers especially, during the latter campaigns of the war, when
+Buonaparte was twice dethroned, and Europe finally delivered from French
+predominance.
+
+
+
+
+VIA CRUCIS, VIA LUCIS.
+
+
+ Night turns to day:--
+ When sullen darkness lowers,
+ And heaven and earth are hid from sight,
+ Cheer up, cheer up;
+ Ere long the opening flowers,
+ With dewy eyes, shall shine in light.
+
+ Storms die in calms:--
+ When over land and ocean
+ Roll the loud chariots of the wind,
+ Cheer up, cheer up;
+ The voice of wild commotion,
+ Proclaims tranquillity behind.
+
+ Winter wakes spring:--
+ When icy blasts are blowing
+ O'er frozen lakes, through naked trees,
+ Cheer up, cheer up;
+ All beautiful and glowing,
+ May floats in fragrance on the breeze.
+
+ War ends in peace:--
+ Though dread artillery rattle,
+ And ghostly corses load the ground,
+ Cheer up, cheer up;
+ Where groan'd the field of battle,
+ The song, the dance, the feast, go round.
+
+ Toil brings repose:--
+ With noontide fervours beating,
+ When droop thy temples o'er thy breast,
+ Cheer up, cheer up;
+ Gray twilight, cool and fleeting,
+ Wafts on its wing the hour of rest.
+
+ Death springs to life:--
+ Though brief and sad thy story,
+ Thy years all spent in care and gloom,
+ Look up, look up;
+ Eternity and glory
+ Dawn through the portals of the tomb.
+
+
+
+
+VERSES TO A ROBIN RED-BREAST,
+WHICH VISITS THE WINDOW OF MY PRISON EVERY DAY.
+
+
+ Welcome, pretty little stranger!
+ Welcome to my lone retreat!
+ Here, secure from every danger,
+ Hop about, and chirp, and eat:
+ Robin! how I envy thee,
+ Happy child of Liberty!
+
+ Now, though tyrant Winter, howling,
+ Shakes the world with tempests round,
+ Heaven above with vapours scowling,
+ Frost imprisons all the ground:
+ Robin! what are these to thee?
+ Thou art bless'd with liberty.
+
+ Though yon fair majestic river[70]
+ Mourns in solid icy chains,
+ Though yon flocks and cattle shiver
+ On the desolated plains:
+ Robin! thou art gay and free,
+ Happy in thy liberty.
+
+ Hunger never shall disturb thee,
+ While my rates one crumb afford;
+ Colds nor cramps shall ne'er oppress thee;
+ Come and share my humble board:
+ Robin! come and live with me--
+ Live, yet still at liberty.
+
+ Soon shall Spring, in smiles and blushes,
+ Steal upon the blooming year;
+ Then, amid the enamour'd bushes,
+ Thy sweet song shall warble clear:
+ Then shall I, too, join with thee--
+ Swell the hymn of Liberty.
+
+ Should some rough, unfeeling dobbin,
+ In this iron-hearted age,
+ Seize thee on thy nest, my Robin,
+ And confine thee in a cage,
+ Then, poor prisoner! think of me--
+ Think, and sigh for liberty.
+
+
+[70] The Ouse.
+
+
+
+
+SLAVERY THAT WAS.
+
+
+ Ages, ages have departed,
+ Since the first dark vessel bore
+ Afric's children, broken-hearted,
+ To the Caribbéan shore;
+ She, like Rachel,
+ Weeping, for they were no more.
+
+ Millions, millions, have been slaughter'd,
+ In the fight and on the deep;
+ Millions, millions more have water'd,
+ With such tears as captives weep,
+ Fields of travail,
+ Where their bones till doomsday sleep.
+
+ Mercy, Mercy, vainly pleading,
+ Rent her garments, smote her breast,
+ Till a voice from Heaven proceeding,
+ Gladden'd all the gloomy west,--
+ "Come, ye weary,
+ Come, and I will give you rest!"
+
+ Tidings, tidings of salvation!
+ Britons rose with one accord,
+ Purged the plague-spot from our nation,
+ Negroes to their rights restored;
+ Slaves no longer,
+ _Freemen,--freemen_ of the _Lord_.
+
+
+
+
+ANDREW SCOTT.
+
+
+Andrew Scott, known as the author of the popular ballad of "Symon and
+Janet," has claims to a wider reputation. He was born of humble
+parentage, in the parish of Bowden, Roxburghshire, in the year 1757. He
+was early employed as a cowherd; and he has recorded, in a sketch of his
+own life prefixed to one of his volumes, that he began to compose verses
+on the hill-sides in his twelfth year. He ascribes this juvenile
+predilection to the perusal of Ramsay's "Gentle Shepherd," a pamphlet
+copy of which he had purchased with some spare halfpence. Towards the
+close of the American war, he joined the army as a recruit, and soon
+thereafter followed his regiment across the Atlantic. His rhyming
+propensities continued; and he occupied his leisure hours in composing
+verses, which he read for the amusement of his comrades. At the
+conclusion of the American campaigns, he returned with the army to
+Britain; and afterwards procuring his discharge, he made a settlement in
+his native parish. For the period of seventeen years, according to his
+own narrative, he abandoned the cultivation of poetry, assiduously
+applying himself to manual labour for the support of his family. An
+intelligent acquaintance, who had procured copies of some of his
+verses, now recommended him to attempt a publication--a counsel which
+induced him to print a small volume by subscription. This appeared in
+1805, and was reprinted, with several additions, in 1808. In 1811 he
+published "Poems, chiefly in the Scottish Dialect," Kelso, 18mo; another
+duodecimo volume of poems, at Jedburgh, in 1821; and his last work,
+entitled "Poems on Various Subjects," at Edinburgh, in 1826. This last
+volume was inscribed, with permission, to the Duchess of Roxburghe.
+
+The poet's social condition at Bowden was little favourable to the
+composition of poetry. Situated on the south side of the Eildon hills,
+the parish is entirely separated from the busy world, and the
+inhabitants were formerly proverbial for their rustic simplicity and
+ignorance. The encouragement desiderated at home, the poet, however,
+experienced elsewhere. He visited Melrose, at the easy distance of two
+miles, on the day of the weekly market, and there met with friends and
+patrons from different parts of the district. The late Duke of
+Roxburghe, Sir Walter Scott, Mr Baillie of Jerviswoode, Mr John Gibson
+Lockhart, and Mr G. P. R. James, the novelist, who sometimes resided in
+the neighbourhood, and other persons of rank or literary eminence,
+extended towards him countenance and assistance.
+
+Scott shared the indigent lot of poets. He remained in the condition of
+an agricultural labourer, and for many years held the office of beadle,
+or church-officer, of the parish. He died on the 22d of May 1839, in the
+eighty-second year of his age; and his remains were interred in the
+churchyard of Bowden, where his name is inscribed on a gravestone which
+he had erected to the memory of his wife. His eldest son holds the
+office of schoolmaster of that parish.
+
+The personal appearance of the bard appears to have been prepossessing:
+his countenance wore a highly intellectual aspect. Subsequent to the
+publication of the first volume of his poems, he was requested to sit
+for his portrait by the late Mr George Watson, the well-known
+portrait-painter; and who was so well satisfied with the excellence of
+his subject, that he exhibited the portrait for a lengthened period in
+his studio. It is now in the possession of the author's son at Bowden,
+and has been pronounced a masterpiece of art. A badly executed engraving
+from it is prefixed to Scott's last two volumes. In manner, the poet was
+modest and unassuming, and his utterance was slow and defective. The
+songs selected for this work may be regarded as the most favourable
+specimens of his muse.[71]
+
+
+[71] We have to acknowledge our obligations for several particulars of
+this sketch to Mr Robert Bower, Melrose, the author of a volume of
+"Ballads and Lyrics," published at Edinburgh in 1853.
+
+
+
+
+RURAL CONTENT; OR, THE MUIRLAND FARMER.
+
+AIR--_"The Rock and the Wee Pickle Tow."_
+
+
+ I 'm now a guid farmer, I 've acres o' land,
+ And my heart aye loups light when I 'm viewing o't,
+ And I hae servants at my command,
+ And twa dainty cowts for the plowin' o't.
+ My farm is a snug ane, lies high on a muir,
+ The muircocks and plivers aft skirl at my door,
+ And whan the sky low'rs I 'm aye sure o' a show'r,
+ To moisten my land for the plowin' o't.
+
+ Leeze me on the mailin that 's fa'n to my share,
+ It taks sax muckle bowes for the sawin' o't;
+ I 've sax braid acres for pasture, and mair,
+ And a dainty bit bog for the mawin' o't.
+ A spence and a kitchen my mansionhouse gies,
+ I 've a cantie wee wifie to daut whan I please,
+ Twa bairnies, twa callans, that skelp o'er the leas,
+ And they 'll soon can assist at the plowin' o't.
+
+ My biggin' stands sweet on this south slopin' hill,
+ And the sun shines sae bonnily beamin' on 't,
+ And past my door trots a clear prattlin' rill,
+ Frae the loch, whare the wild-ducks are swimmin' o't;
+ And on its green banks, on the gay simmer days,
+ My wifie trips barefoot, a-bleachin' her claes,
+ And on the dear creature wi' rapture I gaze,
+ While I whistle and sing at the plowin' o't.
+
+ To rank amang farmers I hae muckle pride,
+ But I mauna speak high when I 'm tellin' o't,
+ How brawlie I strut on my shelty to ride,
+ Wi' a sample to shew for the sellin' o't.
+ In blue worset boots that my auld mither span,
+ I 've aft been fu' vanty sin' I was a man,
+ But now they 're flung by, and I 've bought cordivan,
+ And my wifie ne'er grudged me a shillin' o't.
+
+ Sae now, whan to kirk or to market I gae--
+ My weelfare what need I be hiddin' o't?--
+ In braw leather boots shinin' black as the slae,
+ I dink me to try the ridin' o't.
+ Last towmond I sell'd off four bowes o' guid bear,
+ And thankfu' I was, for the victual was dear,
+ And I came hame wi' spurs on my heels shinin' clear,
+ I had sic good luck at the sellin' o't.
+
+ Now hairst time is o'er, and a fig for the laird,
+ My rent 's now secure for the toilin' o't;
+ My fields are a' bare, and my crap 's in the yard,
+ And I 'm nae mair in doubts o' the spoilin' o't.
+ Now welcome gude weather, or wind, or come weet,
+ Or bauld ragin' winter, wi' hail, snaw, or sleet,
+ Nae mair can he draigle my crap 'mang his feet,
+ Nor wraik his mischief, and be spoilin' o't.
+
+ And on the douf days, whan loud hurricanes blaw,
+ Fu' snug i' the spence I 'll be viewin' o't,
+ And jink the rude blast in my rush-theekit ha',
+ Whan fields are seal'd up from the plowin' o't.
+ My bonny wee wifie, the bairnies, and me,
+ The peat-stack, and turf-stack our Phœbus shall be,
+ Till day close the scoul o' its angry ee,
+ And we 'll rest in gude hopes o' the plowin' o't.
+
+ And whan the year smiles, and the lavrocks sing,
+ My man Jock and me shall be doin' o't;
+ He 'll thrash, and I 'll toil on the fields in the spring,
+ And turn up the soil at the plowin' o't.
+ And whan the wee flow'rets begin then to blaw,
+ The lavrock, the peasweep, and skirlin' pickmaw,
+ Shall hiss the bleak winter to Lapland awa,
+ Then we 'll ply the blythe hours at the sawin' o't.
+
+ And whan the birds sing on the sweet simmer morn,
+ My new crap I 'll keek at the growin' o't;
+ Whan hares niffer love 'mang the green-bairdit corn,
+ And dew draps the tender blade shewin' o't,
+ On my brick o' fallow my labours I 'll ply,
+ And view on their pasture my twa bonny kye,
+ Till hairst-time again circle round us wi' joy,
+ Wi' the fruits o' the sawin' and plowin' o't.
+
+ Nor need I to envy our braw gentle focks,
+ Wha fash na their thumbs wi' the sawing o't,
+ Nor e'er slip their fine silken hands in the pocks,
+ Nor foul their black shoon wi' the plowin' o't:
+ For, pleased wi' the little that fortune has lent,
+ The seasons row round us in rural content;
+ We 've aye milk and meal, and our laird gets his rent,
+ And I whistle and sing at the plowin' o't.
+
+
+
+
+SYMON AND JANET.
+
+AIR--_"Fy, let us a' to the Bridal."_
+
+
+ Surrounded wi' bent and wi' heather,
+ Whare muircocks and plivers are rife,
+ For mony lang towmond thegither,
+ There lived an auld man and his wife.
+
+ About the affairs o' the nation,
+ The twasome they seldom were mute;
+ Bonaparte, the French, and invasion,
+ Did saur in their wizens like soot.
+
+ In winter, when deep are the gutters,
+ And night's gloomy canopy spread,
+ Auld Symon sat luntin' his cuttie,
+ And lowsin' his buttons for bed.
+
+ Auld Janet, his wife, out a-gazin',
+ To lock in the door was her care;
+ She seein' our signals a-blazin',
+ Came runnin' in, rivin' her hair.
+
+ "O Symon, the Frenchmen are landit!
+ Gae look man, and slip on your shoon;
+ Our signals I see them extendit,
+ Like red risin' blaze o' the moon!"
+
+ "What plague, the French landit!" quo' Symon,
+ And clash gaed his pipe to the wa',
+ "Faith, then there's be loadin' and primin',"
+ Quo' he, "if they 're landit ava.
+
+ "Our youngest son 's in the militia,
+ Our eldest grandson 's volunteer:
+ O' the French to be fu' o' the flesh o',
+ I too in the ranks shall appear."
+
+ His waistcoat pouch fill'd he wi' pouther,
+ And bang'd down his rusty auld gun;
+ His bullets he put in the other,
+ That he for the purpose had run.
+
+ Then humpled he out in a hurry,
+ While Janet his courage bewails,
+ And cried out, "Dear Symon, be wary!"
+ And teughly she hang by his tails.
+
+ "Let be wi' your kindness," quo' Symon,
+ "Nor vex me wi' tears and your cares,
+ For now to be ruled by a woman,
+ Nae laurels shall crown my gray hairs."
+
+ Quo' Janet, "Oh, keep frae the riot!
+ Last night, man, I dreamt ye was dead;
+ This aught days I tentit a pyot
+ Sit chatt'rin' upo' the house-head.
+
+ "And yesterday, workin' my stockin',
+ And you wi' the sheep on the hill,
+ A muckle black corbie sat croakin';
+ I kend it foreboded some ill."
+
+ "Hout, cheer up, dear Janet, be hearty,
+ For ere the next sun may gae down,
+ Wha kens but I 'll shoot Bonaparte,
+ And end my auld days in renown?"
+
+ "Then hear me," quo' Janet, "I pray thee,
+ I 'll tend thee, love, living or dead,
+ And if thou should fa' I 'll die wi' thee,
+ Or tie up thy wounds if thou bleed."
+
+ Syne aff in a fury he stumpled,
+ Wi' bullets, and pouther, and gun;
+ At 's curpin auld Janet too humpled,
+ Awa to the next neighb'rin' town.
+
+ There footmen and yeomen paradin',
+ To scour aff in dirdum were seen,
+ Auld wives and young lasses a-sheddin'
+ The briny saut tears frae their een.
+
+ Then aff wi' his bannet gat Symon,
+ And to the commander he gaes;
+ Quo' he, "Sir, I mean to gae wi' ye, man,
+ And help ye to lounder our faes.
+
+ "I 'm auld, yet I 'm teugh as the wire,
+ Sae we 'll at the rogues have a dash,
+ And, fegs, if my gun winna fire,
+ I 'll turn her butt-end, and I 'll thrash."
+
+ "Well spoken, my hearty old hero,"
+ The captain did smiling reply,
+ But begg'd he wad stay till to-morrow,
+ Till daylight should glent in the sky.
+
+ Whatreck, a' the stour cam to naething;
+ Sae Symon, and Janet his dame,
+ Hale skart frae the wars, without skaithing,
+ Gaed bannin' the French again hame.
+
+
+
+
+COQUET WATER.
+
+AIR--_"Braw Lads of Gala Water."_
+
+
+ Whan winter winds forget to blaw,
+ An' vernal suns revive pale nature,
+ A shepherd lad by chance I saw,
+ Feeding his flocks by Coquet water.
+
+ Saft, saft he sung, in melting lays,
+ His Mary's charms an' matchless feature,
+ While echoes answer'd frae the braes,
+ That skirt the banks of Coquet water.
+
+ "Oh, were that bonnie lassie mine,"
+ Quoth he, "in love's saft wiles I'd daut her;
+ An' deem mysel' as happy syne,
+ As landit laird on Coquet water.
+
+ "Let wealthy rakes for pleasure roam,
+ In foreign lands their fortune fritter;
+ But love's pure joys be mine at home,
+ Wi' my dear lass on Coquet water.
+
+ "Gie fine focks wealth, yet what care I,
+ Gie me her smiles whom I lo'e better;
+ Blest wi' her love an' life's calm joy,
+ Tending my flocks by Coquet water.
+
+ "Flow fair an' clear, thou bonnie stream,
+ For on thy banks aft hae I met her;
+ Fair may the bonnie wild-flowers gleam,
+ That busk the banks of Coquet water."
+
+
+
+
+THE YOUNG MAID'S WISH FOR PEACE.
+
+AIR--_"Far frae Hame," &c._
+
+
+ Fain wad I, fain wad I hae the bloody wars to cease,
+ An' the nations restored again to unity an' peace;
+ Then mony a bonnie laddie, that 's now far owre the sea,
+ Wad return to his lassie, an' his ain countrie.
+
+ My lad was call'd awa for to cross the stormy main,
+ An' to face the battle's bray in the cause of injured Spain;
+ But in my love's departure hard fate has injured me,
+ That has reft him frae my arms, an' his ain countrie.
+
+ When he bade me adieu, oh! my heart was like to break,
+ An' the parting tear dropp'd down for my dear laddie's sake;
+ Kind Heavens protect my Willie, wherever he be,
+ An' restore him to my arms, an' his ain countrie.
+
+ Yes, may the fates defend him upon that hostile shore,
+ Amid the rage of battle, where thund'ring cannons roar;
+ In the sad hour of danger, when deadly bullets flee,
+ Far frae the peacefu' plains of his ain countrie.
+
+ Wae 's me, that vice had proven the source of blood an' war,
+ An' sawn amang the nations the seeds of feud an' jar:
+ But it was cruel Cain, an' his grim posterity,
+ First began the bloody wark in their ain countrie.
+
+ An' oh! what widows weep, an' helpless orphans cry!
+ On a far foreign shore now, the dear, dear ashes lie,
+ Whose life-blood stain'd the gowans of some far foreign lea,
+ Far frae their kith an' kin, an' their ain countrie.
+
+ Hail the day, speed the day, then, when a' the wars are done!
+ An' may ilk British laddie return wi' laurels won;
+ On my dear Willie's brows may they flourish bonnily,
+ An' be wi' the myrtle twined in his ain countrie.
+
+ But I hope the time is near, when sweet peace her olive wand
+ To lay the fiend of war shall soon stretch o'er every land,
+ When swords turn'd into ploughshares and pruning-hooks shall be,
+ An' the nations a' live happy in their ain countrie.
+
+
+
+
+THE FIDDLER'S WIDOW.
+
+
+ There was a musician wha play'd a good stick,
+ He had a sweet wife an' a fiddle,
+ An' in his profession he had right good luck
+ At bridals his elbow to diddle.
+
+ But ah! the poor fiddler soon chancéd to die,
+ As a' men to dust must return;
+ An' the poor widow cried, wi' the tear in her e'e,
+ That as lang as she lived she wad mourn.
+
+ Alane by the hearth she disconsolate sat,
+ Lamenting the day that she saw,
+ An' aye as she look'd on the fiddle she grat,
+ That silent now hang on the wa'.
+
+ Fair shane the red rose on the young widow's cheek,
+ Sae newly weel washen wi' tears,
+ As in came a younker some comfort to speak,
+ Wha whisper'd fond love in her ears.
+
+ "Dear lassie," he cried, "I am smit wi' your charms,
+ Consent but to marry me now,
+ I 'm as good as ever laid hair upon thairms,
+ An' I 'll cheer baith the fiddle an' you."
+
+ The young widow blush'd, but sweet smiling she said,
+ "Dear sir, to dissemble I hate,
+ If we twa thegither are doom'd to be wed,
+ Folks needna contend against fate."
+
+ He took down the fiddle as dowie it hung,
+ An' put a' the thairms in tune,
+ The young widow dighted her cheeks an' she sung,
+ For her heart lap her sorrows aboon.
+
+ Now sound sleep the dead in his cauld bed o' clay,
+ For death still the dearest maun sever;
+ For now he 's forgot, an' his widow's fu' gay,
+ An' his fiddle 's as merry as ever.
+
+
+
+
+LAMENT FOR THE DEATH OF AN IRISH CHIEF.
+
+
+ He 's no more on the green hill, he has left the wide forest,
+ Whom, sad by the lone rill, thou, loved dame, deplorest:
+ We saw in his dim eye the beam of life quiver,
+ Its bright orb to light again no more for ever.
+
+ Loud twang'd thy bow, mighty youth, in the foray,
+ Dread gleam'd thy brand in the proud field of glory;
+ And when heroes sat round in the Psalter of Tara,
+ His counsel was sage as was fatal his arrow.
+
+ When in war's loud commotion the hostile Dane landed,
+ Or seen on the ocean with white sail expanded,
+ Like thee, swoll'n stream, down our steep vale that roarest,
+ Fierce was the chieftain that harass'd them sorest.
+
+ Proud stem of our ancient line, nipt while in budding,
+ Like sweet flowers' too early gem spring-fields bestudding,
+ Our noble pine 's fall'n, that waved on our mountain,--
+ Our mighty rock dash'd from the brink of our fountain.
+
+ Our lady is lonely, our halls are deserted--
+ The mighty is fallen, our hope is departed--
+ Loud wail for the fate from our clan that did sever,
+ Whom we shall behold again no more for ever.
+
+
+
+
+THE DEPARTURE OF SUMMER.
+
+
+ Adieu, lovely Summer! I see thee declining,
+ I sigh, for thy exit is near;
+ Thy once glowing beauties by Autumn are pining,
+ Who now presses hard on thy rear.
+
+ The late blowing flowers now thy pale cheek adorning,
+ Droop sick as they nod on the lea;
+ The groves, too, are silent, no minstrel of morning
+ Shrill warbles his song from the tree.
+
+ Aurora peeps silent, and sighs a lorn widow,
+ No warbler to lend her a lay,
+ No more the shrill lark quits the dew-spangled meadow,
+ As wont for to welcome the day.
+
+ Sage Autumn sits sad now on hill, dale, and valley,
+ Each landscape how pensive its mien!
+ They languish, they languish! I see them fade daily,
+ And losing their liv'ry of green.
+
+ O Virtue, come waft me on thy silken pinions,
+ To where purer streamlets still flow,
+ Where summer, unceasing, pervades thy dominions,
+ Nor stormy bleak wint'ry winds blow.
+
+
+
+
+SIR WALTER SCOTT, BART.
+
+
+Sir Walter Scott, the most chivalrous of Scottish poets, and the most
+illustrious of British novelists, was born in Edinburgh, on the 15th of
+August 1771. His father, Walter Scott, Writer to the Signet, was
+descended from a younger branch of the baronial house of the Scotts of
+Harden, of which Lord Polwarth is the present representative. On his
+mother's side his progenitors were likewise highly respectable: his
+maternal grandfather, Dr John Rutherford, was Professor of the Practice
+of Physic in the University of Edinburgh, and his mother's brother, Dr
+Daniel Rutherford, an eminent chemist, afterwards occupied the chair of
+Botany. His mother was a person of a vigorous and cultivated mind. Of a
+family of twelve children, born to his parents, six of whom survived
+infancy, Walter only evinced the possession of the uncommon attribute of
+genius. He was born a healthy child, but soon after became exposed to
+serious peril by being some time tended by a consumptive nurse. When
+scarcely two years old he was seized with an illness which deprived him
+of the proper use of his right limb, a loss which continued during his
+life. With the view of retrieving his strength, he was sent to reside
+with his paternal grandfather, Robert Scott, who rented the farm of
+Sandyknowe, in the vicinity of Smailholm Tower, in Roxburghshire.
+Shortly after his arrival at Sandyknowe, he narrowly escaped destruction
+through the frantic desperation of a maniac attendant; but he had
+afterwards to congratulate himself on being enabled to form an early
+acquaintance with rural scenes. No advantage accruing to his lameness,
+he was, in his fourth year, removed to Bath, where he remained twelve
+months, without experiencing benefit from the mineral waters. During the
+three following years he chiefly resided at Sandyknowe. In his eighth
+year he returned to Edinburgh, with his mind largely stored with border
+legends, chiefly derived from the recitations of his grandmother, a
+person of a romantic inclination and sprightly intelligence. At this
+period, Pope's translation of Homer, and the more amusing songs in
+Ramsay's "Evergreen," were his favourite studies; and he took delight in
+reading aloud, with suitable emphasis, the more striking passages, or
+verses, to his mother, who sought every incentive to stimulate his
+native propensity. In 1778 he was sent to the High School, where he
+possessed the advantage of instruction under Mr Luke Fraser, an able
+scholar, and Dr Adam, the distinguished rector. His progress in
+scholarship was not equal to his talents; he was already a devotee to
+romance, and experienced greater gratification in retiring with a friend
+to some quiet spot in the country, to relate or to listen to a
+fictitious tale, than in giving his principal attention to the
+prescribed tasks of the schoolroom. As he became older, the love of
+miscellaneous literature, especially the works of the great masters of
+fiction, amounted to a passion; and as his memory was singularly
+tenacious, he accumulated a great extent and variety of miscellaneous
+information.
+
+On the completion of his attendance at the High School, he was sent to
+reside with some relations at Kelso; and in this interesting locality
+his growing attachment to the national minstrelsy and legendary lore
+received a fresh impulse. On his return to Edinburgh he entered the
+University, in which he matriculated as a student of Latin and Greek, in
+October 1793. His progress was not more marked than it had been at the
+High School, insomuch that Mr Dalziel, the professor of Greek, was
+induced to give public expression as to his hopeless incapacity. The
+professor fortunately survived to make ample compensation for the
+rashness of his prediction.
+
+The juvenile inclinations of the future poet were entirely directed to a
+military life; but his continued lameness interposed an insuperable
+difficulty, and was a source of deep mortification. He was at length
+induced to adopt a profession suitable to his physical capabilities,
+entering into indentures with his father in his fourteenth year. To his
+confinement at the desk, sufficiently irksome to a youth of his
+aspirations, he was chiefly reconciled by the consideration that his
+fees as a clerk enabled him to purchase books.
+
+Rapid growth in a constitution which continued delicate till he had
+attained his fifteenth year, led to his bursting a blood-vessel in the
+second year of his apprenticeship. While precluded from active duty,
+being closely confined to bed, and not allowed to exert himself by
+speaking, he was still allowed to read; a privilege which accelerated
+his acquaintance with general literature. To complete his recovery, he
+was recommended exercise on horseback; and in obeying the instructions
+of his physician, he gratified his own peculiar tastes by making himself
+generally familiar with localities and scenes famous in Scottish story.
+On the restoration of his health, he at length became seriously engaged
+in the study of law for several continuous years, and, after the
+requisite examinations, was admitted as an advocate, on the 10th of July
+1792, when on the point of attaining his twenty-first year.
+
+In his twelfth year, Scott had composed some verses for his preceptor
+and early friend Dr Adam, which afforded promise of his future
+excellence. But he seems not to have extensively indulged, in early
+life, in the composition of poetry, while his juvenile productions in
+prose wore a stiff formality. On being called to the bar, he at first
+carefully refrained, according to his own statement, from claiming the
+honour of authorship, lest his brethren or the public should suppose
+that his habits were unsuitable to a due attention to the duties of his
+profession. He was relieved of dependence on professional employment by
+espousing, in December 1797, Miss Carpenter, a young French gentlewoman,
+possessed of a considerable annuity, whose acquaintance he had formed at
+Gilsland, a watering-place in Cumberland. In 1800 he was appointed
+Sheriff of Selkirkshire, with a salary of £300 a year. While he
+continued in his father's office he had made himself familiar with the
+French and Italian languages, and had read many of their more celebrated
+authors, especially the writings of Tasso and Ariosto. Some years after
+he came to the bar, he was induced to acquaint himself with the ballad
+poetry of Germany, then in vogue, through the translations of Mr Lewis,
+whose friendship he had recently acquired. In 1796 he made his first
+adventure as an author by publishing translations of "Lenoré," and "The
+Wild Huntsman" of Bürger. The attempt proved unsuccessful; but,
+undismayed, he again essayed his skill in translation by publishing, in
+1799, an English version of Goëthe's "Goetz of Berlichingen." His
+success as an author was, however, destined to rest on original
+performances, illustrative of the chivalry of his own land.
+
+Towards the recovery and publication of the ancient ballads and songs of
+the Scottish borders, which had only been preserved by the recitations
+of the peasantry, Scott had early formed important intentions. The
+independence of his circumstances now enabled him to execute his
+long-cherished scheme. He made periodical excursions into Liddesdale, a
+wild pastoral district on the Scottish border, anciently peopled by the
+noted Elliots and Armstrongs, in quest of old ballads and traditions;
+and the fruits of his research, along with much curious information,
+partly communicated to him by intelligent correspondents, he gave to the
+world, in 1802, in two volumes octavo, under the title of "Minstrelsy of
+the Scottish Border." He added in the following year a third volume,
+consisting of imitations of ancient ballads, composed by himself and
+others. These volumes issued from the printing-press of his early friend
+and school-fellow, Mr James Ballantyne of Kelso, who had already begun
+to indicate that skill in typography for which he was afterwards so
+justly celebrated. In 1804 he published, from the Auchinleck Manuscript
+in the Advocates' Library, the ancient metrical tale of "Sir Tristrem;"
+and, in an elaborate introduction, he endeavoured to prove that it was
+the composition of Thomas of Ercildoune, better known as Thomas the
+Rhymer. He published in 1805 "The Lay of the Last Minstrel," an original
+ballad poem, which, speedily attaining a wide circulation, procured for
+him an extensive reputation, and the substantial reward of £600.
+
+The prosperity of the poet rose with his fame. In the year following
+that which produced the "Lay," he received his appointment as a
+principal clerk of the Court of Session, an office which afterwards
+brought him £1200 a-year. To literary occupation he now resolved to
+dedicate his intervals of leisure. In 1808 he produced "Marmion," his
+second great poem, which brought him £1000 from the publisher, and at
+once established his fame. During the same year he completed the heavy
+task of editing the works of Dryden, in eighteen volumes. In 1809 he
+edited the state papers and letters of Sir Ralph Sadler, and became a
+contributor to the _Edinburgh Annual Register_, conducted by Southey.
+"The Lady of the Lake," the most happily-conceived and popular of his
+poetical works, appeared in 1810; "Don Roderick," in 1811; "Rokeby," in
+1813; and "The Lord of the Isles," in 1814. "Harold the Dauntless," and
+"The Bridal of Triermain," appeared subsequently, without the author's
+name.
+
+As a poet, Scott had now attained a celebrity unrivalled among his
+contemporaries, and it was in the apprehension of compromising his
+reputation, that, in attempting a new species of composition, he was
+extremely anxious to conceal the name of the author. The novel of
+"Waverley," which appeared in 1814, did not, however, suffer from its
+being anonymous; for, although the sale was somewhat heavy at first, the
+work soon afterwards reached the extraordinary circulation of twelve
+thousand copies. Contrary to reasonable expectation, however, the author
+of "Waverley" did not avow himself, and, numerous as was the catalogue
+of prose fictions which, for more than twenty years, proceeded from his
+pen, he continued as desirous of retaining his secret as were his female
+contemporaries, Lady Nairn and Lady Anne Barnard, to cast a veil over
+their poetical character. The rapidity with which the "Great Unknown"
+produced works of fiction, was one of the marvels of the age; and many
+attempts were made to withdraw the curtain which concealed the
+mysterious author. Successive years produced at least one, and often
+two, novels of a class infinitely superior to the romances of the past
+age, all having reference to the manners and habits of the most
+interesting and chivalrous periods of Scottish or British history,
+which, in these works, were depicted with a power and vivacity
+unattained by the most graphic national historians. Subsequently to the
+publication of "Guy Mannering" and "The Antiquary," in 1815 and 1816,
+and as an expedient to sustain the public interest, Scott commenced a
+new series of novels, under the title of "Tales of my Landlord," these
+being professedly written by a different author; but this resort was
+abandoned as altogether unnecessary for the contemplated object. Each
+successive romance by the author of "Waverley" awakened renewed ardour
+and enthusiasm among the public, and commanded a circulation
+commensurate with the bounds in which the language was understood. Many
+of them were translated into the various European languages. In the year
+1814 he had published an edition of the works of Swift, in nineteen
+volumes octavo.
+
+For some years after his marriage, Scott had occupied a cottage in the
+romantic vicinity of Lasswade, near Edinburgh; but in 1804 he removed to
+Ashestiel, an old mansion, beautifully situated on the banks of the
+Tweed, seven miles above Selkirk, where, for several years, he continued
+to reside during the vacation of the Court. The ruling desire of his
+life was, that by the proceeds of his intellectual labour he might
+acquire an ample demesne, with a suitable mansion of his own, and thus
+in some measure realise in his own person, and in those of his
+representatives, somewhat of the territorial importance of those olden
+barons, whose wassails and whose feuds he had experienced delight in
+celebrating. To attain such distinction as a Scottish _laird_, or
+landholder, he was prepared to incur many sacrifices; nor was this
+desire exceeded by regard for literary reputation. It was unquestionably
+with a view towards the attainment of his darling object, that he taxed
+so severely those faculties with which nature had so liberally endowed
+him, and exhibited a prolificness of authorship, such as has rarely been
+evinced in the annals of literary history. In 1811 he purchased, on the
+south bank of the Tweed, near Melrose, the first portion of that estate
+which, under the name of Abbotsford, has become indelibly associated
+with his history. The soil was then a barren waste, but by extensive
+improvements the place speedily assumed the aspect of amenity and
+beauty. The mansion, a curious amalgamation, in questionable taste, of
+every species of architecture, was partly built in 1811, and gradually
+extended with the increasing emoluments of the owner. By successive
+purchases of adjacent lands, the Abbotsford property became likewise
+augmented, till the rental amounted to about £700 a-year--a return
+sufficiently limited for an expenditure of upwards of £50,000 on this
+favourite spot.
+
+At Abbotsford the poet maintained the character of a wealthy country
+gentleman. He was visited by distinguished persons from the sister
+kingdom, from the Continent, and from America, all of whom he
+entertained in a style of sumptuous elegance. Nor did his constant
+social intercourse with his visitors and friends interfere with the
+regular prosecution of his literary labours: he rose at six, and
+engaged in study and composition till eleven o'clock. During the period
+of his residence in the country, he devoted the remainder of the day to
+his favourite exercise on horseback, the superintendence of improvements
+on his property, and the entertainment of his guests. In March 1820,
+George IV., to whom he was personally known, and who was a warm admirer
+of his genius, granted to him the honour of a baronetcy, being the first
+which was conferred by his Majesty after his accession. Prior to this
+period, besides the works already enumerated, he had given to the world
+his romances of "The Black Dwarf," "Old Mortality," "Rob Roy," "The
+Heart of Midlothian," "The Bride of Lammermoor," "A Legend of Montrose,"
+and "Ivanhoe." The attainment of the baronetcy appears to have
+stimulated him to still greater exertion. In 1820 he produced, besides
+"Ivanhoe," which appeared in the early part of that year, "The
+Monastery" and "The Abbot;" and in the beginning of 1821, the romance of
+"Kenilworth," being twelve volumes published within the same number of
+months. "The Pirate" and "The Fortunes of Nigel" appeared in 1822;
+"Peveril of the Peak" and "Quentin Durward," in 1823; "St Ronan's Well"
+and "Redgauntlet," in 1824; and "The Tales of the Crusaders," in 1825.
+
+During the visit of George IV. to Scotland, in 1822, Sir Walter
+undertook the congenial duty of acting as Master of Ceremonies, which he
+did to the entire satisfaction of his sovereign and of the nation. But
+while prosperity seemed to smile with increasing brilliancy, adversity
+was hovering near. In 1826, Archibald Constable and Company, the famous
+publishers of his works, became insolvent, involving in their
+bankruptcy the printing firm of the Messrs Ballantyne, of which Sir
+Walter was a partner. The liabilities amounted to the vast sum of
+£102,000, for which Sir Walter was individually responsible. To a mind
+less balanced by native intrepidity and fortified by principle, the
+apparent wreck of his worldly hopes would have produced irretrievable
+despondency; but Scott bore his misfortune with magnanimity and manly
+resignation. He had been largely indebted to both the establishments
+which had unfortunately involved him in their fall, in the elegant
+production of his works, as well as in respect of pecuniary
+accommodation; and he felt bound in honour, as well as by legal
+obligation, fully to discharge the debt. He declined to accept an offer
+of the creditors to be satisfied with a composition; and claiming only
+to be allowed time, applied himself with indomitable energy to his
+arduous undertaking, at the age of fifty-five, in the full
+determination, if his life was spared, of cancelling every farthing of
+his obligations. At the crisis of his embarrassments he was engaged in
+the composition of "Woodstock," which shortly afterwards appeared. The
+"Life of Napoleon," which had for a considerable time occupied his
+attention, was published in 1827, in nine vols. octavo. In the course of
+its preparation he had visited both London and Paris in search of
+materials. In the same year he produced "Chronicles of the Canongate,"
+_first series_; and in the year following, the second series of those
+charming tales, and the first portion of his juvenile history of
+Scotland, under the title of "Tales of a Grandfather." A second portion
+of these tales appeared in 1829, and the third and concluding series in
+1830, when he also contributed a graver History of Scotland in two
+volumes to _Lardner's Cabinet Cyclopædia_. In 1829 likewise appeared
+"Anne of Geierstein," a romance, and in 1830 the "Letters on Demonology
+and Witchcraft." In 1831 he produced a series of "Tales on French
+History," uniform with the "Tales of a Grandfather," and his novels,
+"Count Robert of Paris," and "Castle Dangerous," as a fourth series of
+"Tales of My Landlord." Other productions of inferior mark appeared from
+his pen; he contributed to the _Edinburgh Review_, during the first year
+of its career; wrote the articles, "Chivalry," "Romance," and "Drama,"
+for the sixth edition of the _Encyclopædia Britannica_; and during his
+latter years contributed somewhat copiously to the _Quarterly Review_.
+
+At a public dinner in Edinburgh, for the benefit of the Theatrical Fund,
+on the 23d of February 1827, Sir Walter made his first avowal as to the
+authorship of the Waverley Novels,--an announcement which scarcely took
+the public by surprise. The physical energies of the illustrious author
+were now suffering a rapid decline; and in his increasing infirmities,
+and liability to sudden and severe attacks of pain, and even of
+unconsciousness, it became evident to his friends, that, in the
+praiseworthy effort to pay his debts, he was sacrificing his health and
+shortening his life. Those apprehensions proved not without foundation.
+In the autumn of 1831, his health became so lamentably broken, that his
+medical advisers recommended a residence in Italy, and entire cessation
+from mental occupation, as the only means of invigorating a constitution
+so seriously dilapidated. But the counsel came too late; the patient
+proceeded to Naples, and afterwards to Rome, but experiencing no benefit
+from the change, he was rapidly conveyed homewards in the following
+summer, in obedience to his express wish, that he might have the
+satisfaction of closing his eyes at Abbotsford. The wish was gratified:
+he arrived at Abbotsford on the 11th of July 1832, and survived till
+the 21st of the ensuing September. According to his own request, his
+remains were interred in an aisle in Dryburgh Abbey, which had belonged
+to one of his ancestors, and had been granted to him by the late Earl of
+Buchan. A heavy block of marble rests upon the grave, in juxtaposition
+with another which has been laid on that of his affectionate partner in
+life, who died in May 1826. The aisle is protected by a heavy iron
+railing.
+
+In stature, Sir Walter Scott was above six feet; but his personal
+appearance, which had otherwise been commanding, was considerably marred
+by the lameness of his right limb, which caused him to walk with an
+awkward effort, and ultimately with much difficulty. His countenance, so
+correctly represented in his numerous portraits and busts, was
+remarkable for depth of forehead; his features were somewhat heavy, and
+his eyes, covered with thick eyelashes, were dull, unless animated by
+congenial conversation. He was of a fair complexion; and his hair,
+originally sandy, became gray from a severe illness which he suffered in
+his 48th year. His general conversation consisted in the detail of
+chivalric adventures and anecdotes of the olden times. His memory was so
+retentive that whatever he had studied indelibly maintained a place in
+his recollection. In fertility of imagination he surpassed all his
+contemporaries. As a poet, if he has not the graceful elegance of
+Campbell, and the fervid energy of Byron, he excels the latter in purity
+of sentiment, and the former in vigour of conception. His style was well
+adapted for the composition of lyric poetry; but as he had no ear for
+music, his song compositions are not numerous. Several of these,
+however, have been set to music, and maintain their popularity.[72] But
+Scott's reputation as a poet is inferior to his reputation as a
+novelist; and while even his best poems may cease to be generally read,
+the author of the Waverley Novels will only be forgotten with the disuse
+of the language. A cabinet edition of these novels, with the author's
+last notes, and illustrated with elegant engravings, appeared in
+forty-eight volumes a short period before his decease; several other
+complete editions have since been published by the late Mr Robert
+Cadell, and by the present proprietors of the copyright, the Messrs
+Black of Edinburgh.
+
+As a man of amiable dispositions and incorruptible integrity, Sir Walter
+Scott shone conspicuous among his contemporaries, the latter quality
+being eminently exhibited in his resolution to pay the whole of his
+heavy pecuniary liabilities. To this effort he fell a martyr; yet it was
+a source of consolation to his survivors, that, by his own extraordinary
+exertions, the policy of life insurance payable at his death, and the
+sum of £30,000 paid by Mr Cadell for the copyright of his works, the
+whole amount of the debt was discharged. It is, however painfully, to be
+remarked, that the object of his earlier ambition, in raising a family,
+has not been realised. His children, consisting of two sons and two
+daughters, though not constitutionally delicate, have all departed from
+the scene, and the only representative of his house is the surviving
+child of his eldest daughter, who was married to Mr John Gibson
+Lockhart, the late editor of the _Quarterly Review_, and his literary
+executor. This sole descendant, a grand-daughter, is the wife of Mr
+Hope, Q.C., who has lately added to his patronymic the name of Scott,
+and made Abbotsford his summer residence. The memory of the illustrious
+Minstrel has received every honour from his countrymen; monuments have
+been raised to him in the principal towns--that in the capital, a rich
+Gothic cross, being one of the noblest decorations of his native city.
+Abbotsford has become the resort of the tourist and of the traveller
+from every land, who contemplate with interest and devotion a scene
+hallowed by the loftiest genius.
+
+ "The grass is trodden by the feet
+ Of thousands, from a thousand lands--
+ The prince, the peasant, tottering age,
+ And rosy schoolboy bands;
+ All crowd to fairy Abbotsford,
+ And lingering gaze, and gaze the more;
+ Hang o'er the chair in which _he_ sat,
+ The latest dress _he_ wore."[73]
+
+
+[72] We regret that, owing to the provision of the copyright act, we are
+unable, in this work, to present four of Sir Walter Scott's most popular
+songs, "The Blue Bonnets over the Border," "Jock o' Hazeldean,"
+"M'Gregor's Gathering," and "Carle, now the King's come." These songs
+must, however, be abundantly familiar to the majority of readers.
+
+[73] From "The Grave of Sir Walter Scott," a poem by Thomas C. Latto
+(see "The Minister's Kail-yard, and other Poems." Edinburgh, 1845,
+12mo). To explain an allusion in the last line of the above stanza, it
+should be noticed, that the last dress of the poet is exhibited to
+visitors at Abbotsford, carefully preserved in a glass case.
+
+
+
+
+IT WAS AN ENGLISH LADYE BRIGHT.[74]
+
+
+ It was an English ladye bright
+ (The sun shines fair on Carlisle wall),
+ And she would marry a Scottish knight,
+ For Love will still be lord of all.
+
+ Blithely they saw the rising sun,
+ When he shone fair on Carlisle wall;
+ But they were sad ere day was done,
+ Though Love was still the lord of all.
+
+ The sire gave brooch and jewel fine,
+ Where the sun shines fair on Carlisle wall;
+ Her brother gave but a flask of wine,
+ For ire that Love was lord of all.
+
+ For she had lands, both meadow and lea,
+ Where the sun shines fair on Carlisle wall,
+ And he swore her death, ere he would see
+ A Scottish knight the lord of all.
+
+ That wine she had not tasted well
+ (The sun shines fair on Carlisle wall),
+ When dead in her true love's arms she fell,
+ For Love was still the lord of all.
+
+ He pierced her brother to the heart,
+ Where the sun shines fair on Carlisle wall--
+ So perish all would true love part,
+ That Love may still be lord of all!
+
+ And then he took the cross divine
+ (Where the sun shines fair on Carlisle wall),
+ And died for her sake in Palestine,
+ So Love was still the lord of all.
+
+ Now all ye lovers, that faithful prove,
+ (The sun shines fair on Carlisle wall)
+ Pray for their souls who died for love,
+ For Love shall still be lord of all!
+
+
+[74] This song appears in the sixth canto of "The Lay of the Last
+Minstrel." "It is the author's object in these songs," writes Lord
+Jeffrey, "to exemplify the different styles of ballad-narrative which
+prevailed in this island at different periods, or in different
+conditions of society. The first (the above) is conducted upon the rude
+and simple model of the old border ditties, and produces its effect by
+the direct and concise narrative of a tragical occurrence."
+
+
+
+
+LOCHINVAR.[75]
+
+
+ Oh, young Lochinvar is come out of the west,
+ Through all the wide border his steed was the best;
+ And save his good broadsword he weapons had none,
+ He rode all unarm'd, and he rode all alone.
+ So faithful in love, and so dauntless in war,
+ There never was knight like the young Lochinvar.
+
+ He stay'd not for brake, and he stopp'd not for stone,
+ He swam the Eske river where ford there was none;
+ But ere he alighted at Netherby gate,
+ The bride had consented, the gallant came late:
+ For a laggard in love, and a dastard in war,
+ Was to wed the fair Ellen of brave Lochinvar.
+
+ So boldly he enter'd the Netherby Hall,
+ Among bridesmen, and kinsmen, and brothers, and all:
+ Then spoke the bride's father, his hand on his sword,
+ (For the poor craven bridegroom said never a word)
+ "Oh, come ye in peace here, or come ye in war,
+ Or to dance at our bridal, young Lord Lochinvar?"
+
+ "I long woo'd your daughter, my suit you denied;--
+ Love swells like the Solway, but ebbs like its tide--
+ And now am I come, with this lost love of mine,
+ To lead but one measure, drink one cup of wine;
+ There are maidens in Scotland more lovely by far,
+ That would gladly be bride to the young Lochinvar."
+
+ The bride kiss'd the goblet; the knight took it up,
+ He quaff'd off the wine, and he threw down the cup;
+ She look'd down to blush, and she look'd up to sigh,
+ With a smile on her lips, and a tear in her eye.
+ He took her soft hand, ere her mother could bar--
+ "Now tread we a measure!" said young Lochinvar.
+
+ So stately his form, and so lovely her face,
+ That never a hall such a galliard did grace;
+ While her mother did fret, and her father did fume,
+ And the bridegroom stood dangling his bonnet and plume;
+ And the bride-maidens whisper'd, "'Twere better, by far,
+ To have match'd our fair cousin with young Lochinvar."
+
+ One touch to her hand, and one word in her ear,
+ When they reach'd the hall-door, and the charger stood near;
+ So light to the croupe the fair lady he swung,
+ So light to the saddle before her he sprung!
+ "She is won! we are gone, over bank, bush, and scaur;
+ They 'll have fleet steeds that follow," quoth young Lochinvar.
+
+ There was mounting 'mong Græmes of the Netherby clan;
+ Forsters, Fenwicks, and Musgraves, they rode and they ran:
+ There was racing, and chasing, on Cannobie Lea,
+ But the lost bride of Netherby ne'er did they see.
+ So daring in love, and so dauntless in war,
+ Have ye e'er heard of gallant like young Lochinvar?
+
+
+[75] This song occurs in the fifth canto of "Marmion." It is founded on
+a ballad entitled "Katharine Janfarie," in the "Minstrelsy of the
+Scottish Border."
+
+
+
+
+WHERE SHALL THE LOVER REST.[76]
+
+
+ Where shall the lover rest,
+ Whom the fates sever
+ From his true maiden's breast,
+ Parted for ever?
+ Where, through groves deep and high,
+ Sounds the far billow;
+ Where early violets die
+ Under the willow.
+ Eleu loro, &c.
+ Soft shall be his pillow.
+
+ There, through the summer day,
+ Cool streams are laving;
+ There, while the tempests sway,
+ Scarce are boughs waving;
+ There, thy rest shalt thou take,
+ Parted for ever;
+ Never again to wake,
+ Never, O never!
+ Eleu loro, &c.
+ Never, O never!
+
+ Where shall the traitor rest,
+ He, the deceiver,
+ Who could win maiden's breast,
+ Ruin, and leave her?
+ In the lost battle,
+ Borne down by the flying,
+ Where mingle war's rattle
+ With groans of the dying.
+ Eleu loro, &c.
+ There shall he be lying.
+
+ Her wing shall the eagle flap
+ O'er the false-hearted;
+ His warm blood the wolf shall lap
+ Ere life be parted.
+ Shame and dishonour sit
+ By his grave ever;
+ Blessing shall hallow it,--
+ Never, O never!
+ Eleu loro, &c.
+ Never, O never!
+
+
+[76] From the third canto of "Marmion."
+
+
+
+
+SOLDIER, REST! THY WARFARE O'ER.[77]
+
+
+ Soldier, rest! thy warfare o'er,
+ Sleep the sleep that knows not breaking;
+ Dream of battle-fields no more,
+ Days of danger, nights of waking.
+ In our isle's enchanted hall,
+ Hands unseen thy couch are strewing,
+ Fairy strains of music fall,
+ Every sense in slumber dewing.
+ Soldier, rest! thy warfare o'er,
+ Dream of fighting fields no more;
+ Sleep the sleep that knows not breaking,
+ Morn of toil, nor night of waking.
+
+ No rude sound shall reach thine ear,
+ Armour's clang, or war-steed champing;
+ Trump nor pibroch summon here,
+ Mustering clan, or squadron tramping.
+ Yet the lark's shrill fife may come
+ At the daybreak from the fallow;
+ And the bittern sound his drum,
+ Booming from the sedgy shallow.
+ Ruder sounds shall none be near,
+ Guards nor wardens challenge here;
+ Here 's no war-steed's neigh and champing,
+ Shouting clans, or squadrons' stamping.
+
+ Huntsman, rest! thy chase is done;
+ While our slumbrous spells assail ye,
+ Dream not, with the rising sun,
+ Bugles here shall sound reveillé.
+ Sleep! the deer is in his den;
+ Sleep! nor dream in yonder glen,
+ How thy gallant steed lay dying.
+ Huntsman, rest! thy chase is done,
+ Think not of the rising sun,
+ For at dawning to assail ye,
+ Here no bugles sound reveillé.
+
+
+[77] The song of Lady Margaret in the first canto of "The Lady of the
+Lake."
+
+
+
+
+HAIL TO THE CHIEF WHO IN TRIUMPH ADVANCES![78]
+
+
+ Hail to the chief who in triumph advances!
+ Honour'd and bless'd be the ever-green pine!
+ Long may the tree, in his banner that glances,
+ Flourish, the shelter and grace of our line!
+ Heaven send it happy dew,
+ Earth lend it sap anew,
+ Gaily to bourgeon, and broadly to grow,
+ While every Highland glen
+ Sends our shout back agen,
+ Roderigh Vich Alpine dhu, ho! ieroe!
+
+ Ours is no sapling, chance-sown by the fountain,
+ Blooming at Beltane, in winter to fade;
+ When the whirlwind has stripp'd every leaf on the mountain,
+ The more shall Clan-Alpine exult in her shade;
+ Moor'd in the rifted rock
+ Proof to the tempest shock,
+ Firmer he roots him the ruder it blow;
+ Menteith and Breadalbane, then,
+ Echo his praise agen,
+ Roderigh Vich Alpine dhu, ho! ieroe!
+
+ Proudly our pibroch has thrill'd in Glen Fruin,
+ And Bannochar's groans to our slogan replied;
+ Glen Luss and Ross-dhu, they are smoking in ruin,
+ And the best of Loch Lomond lie dead on her side.
+ Widow and Saxon maid
+ Long shall lament our raid,
+ Think of Clan-Alpine with fear and with woe;
+ Lennox and Leven-Glen
+ Shake when they hear agen,
+ Roderigh Vich Alpine dhu, ho! ieroe!
+
+ Row, vassals, row, for the pride of the Highlands!
+ Stretch to your oars for the ever-green pine!
+ Oh, that the rosebud that graces yon islands
+ Were wreathed in a garland around him to twine!
+ O that some seedling gem,
+ Worthy such noble stem,
+ Honour'd and bless'd in their shadow might grow!
+ Loud should Clan-Alpine then
+ Ring from the deepmost glen,
+ Roderigh Vich Alpine dhu, ho! ieroe!
+
+
+[78] The "boat song" in the second canto of "The Lady of the Lake." It
+may be sung to the air of "The Banks of the Devon."
+
+
+
+
+THE HEATH THIS NIGHT MUST BE MY BED.[79]
+
+
+ The heath this night must be my bed,
+ The bracken curtains for my head,
+ My lullaby the warder's tread,
+ Far, far from love and thee, Mary.
+
+ To-morrow eve, more stilly laid,
+ My couch may be the bloody plaid,
+ My vesper song, thy wail, sweet maid!
+ It will not waken me, Mary!
+
+ I may not, dare not, fancy now
+ The grief that clouds thy lovely brow,
+ I dare not think upon thy vow,
+ And all it promised me, Mary.
+
+ No fond regret must Norman know;
+ When bursts Clan-Alpine on the foe,
+ His heart must be like bended bow,
+ His foot like arrow free, Mary.
+
+ A time will come with feeling fraught,
+ For if I fall in battle fought,
+ Thy hapless lover's dying thought
+ Shall be a thought on thee, Mary.
+
+ And if return'd from conquer'd foes,
+ How blithely will the evening close,
+ How sweet the linnet sing repose
+ To my young bride and me, Mary!
+
+
+[79] Song of Norman in "The Lady of the Lake," canto third.
+
+
+
+
+THE IMPRISONED HUNTSMAN.[80]
+
+
+ My hawk is tired of perch and hood,
+ My idle greyhound loathes his food,
+ My horse is weary of his stall,
+ And I am sick of captive thrall;
+ I wish I were as I have been,
+ Hunting the hart in forest green,
+ With bended bow and bloodhound free,
+ For that 's the life is meet for me.
+
+ I hate to learn the ebb of time
+ From yon dull steeple's drowsy chime,
+ Or mark it as the sunbeams crawl,
+ Inch after inch, along the wall.
+ The lark was wont my matins ring,
+ The sable rook my vespers sing:
+ These towers, although a king's they be,
+ Have not a hall of joy for me.
+
+ No more at dawning morn I rise
+ And sun myself in Ellen's eyes,
+ Drive the fleet deer the forest through,
+ And homeward wend with evening dew;
+ A blithesome welcome blithely meet
+ And lay my trophies at her feet,
+ While fled the eve on wing of glee--
+ That life is lost to love and me!
+
+
+[80] "The Lady of the Lake," canto sixth.
+
+
+
+
+HE IS GONE ON THE MOUNTAIN.[81]
+
+
+ He is gone on the mountain,
+ He is lost to the forest,
+ Like a summer-dried fountain,
+ When our need was the sorest.
+ The font re-appearing,
+ From the rain-drops shall borrow;
+ But to us comes no cheering,
+ To Duncan no morrow!
+
+ The hand of the reaper
+ Takes the ears that are hoary,
+ But the voice of the weeper
+ Wails manhood in glory.
+ The autumn winds rushing
+ Wafts the leaves that are searest,
+ But our flower was in flushing
+ When blighting was nearest.
+
+ Fleet foot on the corrie,
+ Sage counsel in cumber,
+ Red hand in the foray,
+ How sound is thy slumber!
+ Like the dew on the mountain,
+ Like the foam on the river,
+ Like the bubble on the fountain,
+ Thou art gone, and for ever.
+
+
+[81] "The Lady of the Lake," canto third.
+
+
+
+
+A WEARY LOT IS THINE, FAIR MAID.[82]
+
+
+ "A weary lot is thine, fair maid,
+ A weary lot is thine!
+ To pull the thorn thy brow to braid,
+ And press the rue for wine!
+ A lightsome eye, a soldier's mien,
+ A feather of the blue,
+ A doublet of the Lincoln green,
+ No more of me ye knew, my love!
+ No more of me ye knew.
+
+ "This morn is merry June, I trow,
+ The rose is budding fain;
+ But she shall bloom in winter snow,
+ Ere we two meet again."
+ He turn'd his charger as he spake,
+ Upon the river shore,
+ He gave his bridle-reins a shake,
+ Said, "Adieu for evermore, my love!
+ And adieu for evermore."
+
+
+[82] "Rokeby," canto third.
+
+
+
+
+ALLEN-A-DALE.[83]
+
+
+ Allen-a-Dale has no faggot for burning,
+ Allen-a-Dale has no furrow for turning,
+ Allen-a-Dale has no fleece for the spinning,
+ Yet Allen-a-Dale has red gold for the winning;
+ Come, read me my riddle! come, hearken my tale!
+ And tell me the craft of bold Allen-a-Dale.
+
+ The Baron of Ravensworth prances in pride,
+ And he views his domains upon Arkindale side,
+ The mere for his net, and the land for his game,
+ The chase for the wild, and the park for the tame;
+ Yet the fish of the lake and the deer of the vale
+ Are less free to Lord Dacre than Allen-a-Dale.
+
+ Allen-a-Dale was ne'er belted a knight,
+ Though his spur be as sharp, and his blade be as bright;
+ Allen-a-Dale is no baron or lord,
+ Yet twenty tall yeomen will draw at his word;
+ And the best of our nobles his bonnet will vail,
+ Who at Rere-cross on Stanmore meets Allen-a-Dale.
+
+ Allen-a-Dale to his wooing is come;
+ The mother she asked of his household and home;
+ "Though the castle of Richmond stand fair on the hill,
+ My hall," quoth bold Allen, "shows gallanter still;
+ 'Tis the blue vault of heaven, with its crescent so pale,
+ And with all its bright spangles," said Allen-a-Dale.
+
+ The father was steel and the mother was stone,
+ They lifted the latch, and they bade him be gone;
+ But loud, on the morrow, their wail and their cry,
+ He had laugh'd on the lass with his bonny black eye,
+ And she fled to the forest to hear a love-tale,
+ And the youth it was told by was Allen-a-Dale.
+
+
+[83] "Rokeby," canto third.
+
+
+
+
+THE CYPRESS WREATH.[84]
+
+
+ Oh, lady! twine no wreath for me,
+ Or twine it of the cypress-tree!
+ Too lively glow the lilies' light,
+ The varnish'd holly 's all too bright,
+ The mayflower and the eglantine
+ May shade a brow less sad than mine;
+ But, lady, weave no wreath for me,
+ Or weave it of the cypress-tree!
+
+ Let dimpled mirth his temples twine
+ With tendrils of the laughing vine;
+ The manly oak, the pensive yew,
+ To patriot and to sage be due;
+ The myrtle bough bids lovers live
+ But that Matilda will not give;
+ Then, lady, twine no wreath for me,
+ Or twine it of the cypress-tree!
+
+ Let merry England proudly rear
+ Her blended roses, bought so dear;
+ Let Albin bind her bonnet blue
+ With heath and harebell dipp'd in dew.
+ On favour'd Erin's crest be seen
+ The flower she loves of emerald green;
+ But, lady, twine no wreath for me,
+ Or twine it of the cypress-tree!
+
+ Strike the wild harp while maids prepare
+ The ivy meet for minstrel's hair;
+ And, while his crown of laurel-leaves,
+ With bloody hand the victor weaves,
+ Let the loud trump his triumph tell;
+ But when you hear the passing-bell,
+ Then, lady, twine a wreath for me,
+ And twine it of the cypress-tree!
+
+ Yes, twine for me the cypress bough;
+ But, O Matilda, twine not now!
+ Stay till a few brief months are past
+ And I have look'd and loved my last!
+ When villagers my shroud bestrew
+ With pansies, rosemary, and rue,--
+ Then, lady, weave a wreath for me,
+ And weave it of the cypress-tree!
+
+
+[84] "Rokeby," canto fifth.
+
+
+
+
+THE CAVALIER.[85]
+
+
+ While the dawn on the mountain was misty and gray,
+ My true love has mounted his steed and away,
+ Over hill, over valley, o'er dale, and o'er down;--
+ Heaven shield the brave gallant that fights for the crown!
+
+ He has doff'd the silk doublet the breastplate to bear,
+ He has placed the steel cap o'er his long flowing hair,
+ From his belt to his stirrup his broadsword hangs down--
+ Heaven shield the brave gallant that fights for the crown!
+
+ For the rights of fair England that broadsword he draws,
+ Her king is his leader, her church is his cause,
+ His watchword is honour, his pay is renown,--
+ God strike with the gallant that strikes for the crown!
+
+ They may boast of their Fairfax, their Waller, and all
+ The roundheaded rebels of Westminster Hall;
+ But tell these bold traitors of London's proud town,
+ That the spears of the north have encircled the crown.
+
+ There 's Derby and Cavendish, dread of their foes;
+ There 's Erin's high Ormond, and Scotland's Montrose!
+ Would you match the base Skippon, and Massey, and Brown,
+ With the barons of England that fight for the crown?
+
+ Now joy to the crest of the brave cavalier,
+ Be his banner unconquer'd, resistless his spear,
+ Till in peace and in triumph his toils he may drown,
+ In a pledge to fair England, her church, and her crown!
+
+
+[85] "Rokeby," canto fifth.
+
+
+
+
+HUNTING SONG.[86]
+
+
+ Waken, lords and ladies gay,
+ On the mountain dawns the day,
+ All the jolly chase is here,
+ With hawk, and horse, and hunting-spear!
+ Hounds are in their couples yelling,
+ Hawks are whistling, horns are knelling,
+ Merrily, merrily, mingle they--
+ "Waken, lords and ladies gay."
+
+ Waken, lords and ladies gay,
+ The mist has left the mountain gray,
+ Springlets in the dawn are steaming,
+ Diamonds on the brake are gleaming:
+ And foresters have busy been
+ To track the buck in thicket green;
+ Now we come to chant our lay,
+ "Waken, lords and ladies gay."
+
+ Waken, lords and ladies gay,
+ To the green-wood haste away;
+ We can shew you where he lies,
+ Fleet of foot and tall of size;
+ We can shew the marks he made
+ When 'gainst the oak his antlers fray'd;
+ You shall see him brought to bay,
+ "Waken, lords and ladies gay."
+
+ Louder, louder chant the lay,
+ Waken, lords and ladies gay!
+ Tell them youth, and mirth, and glee,
+ Run a course as well as we;
+ Time, stern huntsman! who can baulk,
+ Stanch as hound, and fleet as hawk?
+ Think of this, and rise with day,
+ Gentle lords and ladies gay.
+
+
+[86] First published in the continuation of Strutt's Queenhoohall, 1808,
+inserted in the _Edinburgh Annual Register_, of the same year, and set
+to a Welsh air in Thomson's _Select Melodies_, vol. iii., 1817.
+
+
+
+
+OH, SAY NOT, MY LOVE, WITH THAT MORTIFIED AIR.
+
+
+ Oh, say not, my love, with that mortified air,
+ That your spring-time of pleasure is flown;
+ Nor bid me to maids that are younger repair,
+ For those raptures that still are thine own.
+
+ Though April his temples may wreathe with the vine,
+ Its tendrils in infancy curl'd;
+ 'Tis the ardour of August matures us the wine,
+ Whose life-blood enlivens the world.
+
+ Though thy form, that was fashion'd as light as a fay's,
+ Has assumed a proportion more round,
+ And thy glance, that was bright as a falcon's at gaze,
+ Looks soberly now on the ground--
+
+ Enough, after absence to meet me again,
+ Thy steps still with ecstacy move;
+ Enough, that those dear sober glances retain
+ For me the kind language of love.
+
+
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+METRICAL TRANSLATIONS
+
+FROM
+
+The Modern Gaelic Minstrelsy.
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+
+
+ROBERT MACKAY (ROB DONN).
+
+
+Robert Mackay, called _Donn_, from the colour of his hair, which was
+brown or chestnut, was born in the Strathmore of Sutherlandshire, about
+the year 1714.
+
+His calling, with the interval of a brief military service in the
+fencibles, was the tending of cattle, in the several gradations of herd,
+drover, and bo-man, or responsible cow-keeper--the last, in his pastoral
+county, a charge of trust and respectability. At one period he had an
+appointment in Lord Reay's forest; but some deviations into the
+"righteous theft"--so the Highlanders of those parts, it seems, call the
+appropriation of an occasional deer to their own use--forfeited his
+noble employer's confidence. Rob, however, does not appear to have
+suffered in his general character or reputation for an _unconsidered
+trifle_ like this, nor otherwise to have declined in the favour of his
+chief, beyond the necessity of transporting himself to a situation
+somewhat nearer the verge of Cape Wrath than the bosom of the deer
+preserve.
+
+Mackay was happily married, and brought up a large family in habits and
+sentiments of piety; a fact which his reverend biographer connects very
+touchingly with the stated solemnities of the "Saturday night," when the
+lighter chants of the week were exchanged at the worthy drover's
+fireside for the purer and holier melodies of another inspiration.[87]
+As a pendant to this creditable account of the bard's principles, we are
+informed that he was a frequent guest at the presbytery dinner-table; a
+circumstance which some may be so malicious as to surmise amounted to
+nothing more than a purpose to enhance the festive recreations of the
+reverend body--a suspicion, we believe, in this particular instance,
+totally unfounded. He died in 1778; and he has succeeded to some rather
+peculiar honours for a person in his position, or even of his mark. He
+has had a reverend doctor for his editorial biographer,[88] and no less
+than Sir Walter Scott for his reviewer.[89]
+
+The passages which Sir Walter has culled from some literal translations
+that were submitted to him, are certainly the most favourable specimens
+of the bard that we have been able to discover in his volume. The rest
+are generally either satiric rants too rough or too local for
+transfusion, or panegyrics on the living and the dead, in the usual
+extravagant style of such compositions, according to the taste of the
+Highlanders and the usage of their bards; or they are love-lays, of
+which the language is more copious and diversified than the sentiment.
+In the gleanings on which we have ventured, after the illustrious person
+who has done so much honour to the bard by his comments and selections,
+we have attempted to draw out a little more of the peculiar character of
+the poet's genius.
+
+
+[87] Songs and Poems of Robert Mackay, p. 38. (Inverness, 1829. 8vo.)
+
+[88] The Rev. Dr Mackintosh Mackay, successively minister of Laggan and
+Dunoon, now a clergyman in Australia.
+
+[89] _Quarterly Review_, vol. xlv., April 1831.
+
+
+
+
+THE SONG OF WINTER.
+
+ This is selected as a specimen of Mackay's descriptive poetry. It
+ is in a style peculiar to the Highlands, where description runs so
+ entirely into epithets and adjectives, as to render recitation
+ breathless, and translation hopeless. Here, while we have retained
+ the imagery, we have been unable to find room, or rather rhyme, for
+ one half of the epithets in the original. The power of alliterative
+ harmony in the original song is extraordinary.
+
+
+ I.
+
+ At waking so early
+ Was snow on the Ben,
+ And, the glen of the hill in,
+ The storm-drift so chilling
+ The linnet was stilling,
+ That couch'd in its den;
+ And poor robin was shrilling
+ In sorrow his strain.
+
+
+ II.
+
+ Every grove was expecting
+ Its leaf shed in gloom;
+ The sap it is draining,
+ Down rootwards 'tis straining,
+ And the bark it is waning
+ As dry as the tomb,
+ And the blackbird at morning
+ Is shrieking his doom.
+
+
+ III.
+
+ Ceases thriving, the knotted,
+ The stunted birk-shaw;[90]
+ While the rough wind is blowing,
+ And the drift of the snowing
+ Is shaking, o'erthrowing,
+ The copse on the law.
+
+
+ IV.
+
+ 'Tis the season when nature
+ Is all in the sere,
+ When her snow-showers are hailing,
+ Her rain-sleet assailing,
+ Her mountain winds wailing,
+ Her rime-frosts severe.
+
+
+ V.
+
+ 'Tis the season of leanness,
+ Unkindness, and chill;
+ Its whistle is ringing,
+ An iciness bringing,
+ Where the brown leaves are clinging
+ In helplessness, still,
+ And the snow-rush is delving
+ With furrows the hill.
+
+
+ VI.
+
+ The sun is in hiding,
+ Or frozen its beam
+ On the peaks where he lingers,
+ On the glens, where the singers,[91]
+ With their bills and small fingers
+ Are raking the stream,
+ Or picking the midstead
+ For forage--and scream.
+
+
+ VII.
+
+ When darkens the gloaming
+ Oh, scant is their cheer!
+ All benumb'd is their song in
+ The hedge they are thronging,
+ And for shelter still longing,
+ The mortar[92] they tear;
+ Ever noisily, noisily
+ Squealing their care.
+
+
+ VIII.
+
+ The running stream's chieftain[93]
+ Is trailing to land,
+ So flabby, so grimy,
+ So sickly, so slimy,--
+ The spots of his prime he
+ Has rusted with sand;
+ Crook-snouted his crest is
+ That taper'd so grand.
+
+
+ IX.
+
+ How mournful in winter
+ The lowing of kine;
+ How lean-back'd they shiver,
+ How draggled their cover,
+ How their nostrils run over
+ With drippings of brine,
+ So scraggy and crining
+ In the cold frost they pine.
+
+
+ X.
+
+ 'Tis hallow-mass time, and
+ To mildness farewell!
+ Its bristles are low'ring
+ With darkness; o'erpowering
+ Are its waters, aye showering
+ With onset so fell;
+ Seem the kid and the yearling
+ As rung their death-knell.
+
+
+ XI.
+
+ Every out-lying creature,
+ How sinew'd soe'er,
+ Seeks the refuge of shelter;
+ The race of the antler
+ They snort and they falter,
+ A-cold in their lair;
+ And the fawns they are wasting
+ Since their kin is afar.
+
+
+ XII.
+
+ Such the songs that are saddest
+ And dreariest of all;
+ I ever am eerie
+ In the morning to hear ye!
+ When foddering, to cheer the
+ Poor herd in the stall--
+ While each creature is moaning,
+ And sickening in thrall.
+
+
+[90] "Birk-shaw." A few Scotticisms will be found in these versions, at
+once to flavour the style, and, it must be admitted, to assist the
+rhymes.
+
+[91] Birds.
+
+[92] The sides of the cottages--plastered with mud or mortar, instead of
+lime.
+
+[93] Salmon.
+
+
+
+
+DIRGE FOR IAN MACECHAN.
+
+A FRAGMENT.
+
+ Mackay was entertained by Macechan, who was a respectable
+ store-farmer, from his earliest life to his marriage. According to
+ his reverend biographer,[94] the last lines of the elegy, of which
+ the following is a translation, were much approved.
+
+
+ I see the wretch of high degree,
+ Though poverty has struck his race,
+ Pass with a darkness on his face
+ That door of hospitality.
+
+ I see the widow in her tears,
+ Dark as her woe--I see her boy--
+ From both, want reaves the dregs of joy;
+ The flash of youth through rags appears.
+
+ I see the poor's--the minstrel's lot--
+ As brethren they--no boon for song!
+ I see the unrequited wrong
+ Call for its helper, who is not.
+
+ You hear my plaint, and ask me, why?
+ You ask me _when_ this deep distress
+ Began to rage without redress?
+ "With Ian Macechan's dying sigh!"
+
+
+[94] "Poems," p. 318.
+
+
+
+
+THE SONG OF THE FORSAKEN DROVER.
+
+ During a long absence on a droving expedition, Mackay was deprived of
+ his mistress by another lover, whom, in fine, she married. The discovery
+ he made, on his return, led to this composition; which is a sequel to
+ another composed on his distant journey, in which he seems to
+ prognosticate something like what happened. Both are selected by Sir
+ Walter Scott as specimens of the bard, and may be found paraphrastically
+ rendered in a prose version, in the _Quarterly Review_, vol. xlv., p.
+ 371, and in the notes to the last edition of "The Highland Drover," in
+ "Chronicles of the Canongate." With regard to the present specimen, it
+ may be remarked, that part of the original is either so obscure, or so
+ freely rendered by Sir Walter Scott's translator, that we have attempted
+ the present version, not without some little perplexity as to the sense
+ of one or two allusions. We claim, on the whole, the merit of almost
+ literal fidelity.
+
+
+ I.
+
+ I fly from the fold, since my passion's despair
+ No longer must harbour the charms that are there;
+ Anne's[95] slender eyebrows, her sleek tresses so long,
+ Her turreted bosom--and Isabel's[96] song;
+ What has been, and is not--woe 's my thought!
+ It must not be spoken, nor can be forgot.
+
+
+ II.
+
+ I wander'd the fold, and I rambled the grove,
+ And each spot it reported the kiss of my love;
+ But I saw her caressing another--and feel
+ 'Tis distraction to hear them, and see them so leal.
+ What has been, and is not, &c.
+
+
+ III.
+
+ Since 'twas told that a rival beguil'd thee away,
+ The dreams of my love are the dreams of dismay;
+ Though unsummon'd of thee,[97] love has captured thy thrall,
+ And my hope of redemption for ever is small.
+ Day and night, though I strive aye
+ To shake him away, still he clings like the ivy.
+
+
+ IV.
+
+ But, auburn-hair'd Anna! to tell thee my plight,
+ 'Tis old love unrequited that prostrates my might,
+ In presence or absence, aye faithful, my smart
+ Still racks, and still searches, and tugs at my heart--
+ Broken that heart, yet why disappear
+ From my country, without one embrace from my dear?
+
+
+ V.
+
+ She answers with laughter and haughty disdain--
+ "To handle my snood you petition in vain;
+ Six suitors are mine since the year thou wert gone,
+ What art _thou_, that thou should'st be the favourite one?
+ Art thou sick? Ha, ha, for thy woe!
+ Art thou dying for love? Troth, love's payment was slow."[98]
+
+
+ VI.
+
+ Though my anger may feign it requites thy disdain,
+ And vaunts in thy absence, it threatens in vain--
+ All in vain! for thy image in fondness returns,
+ And o'er thy sweet likeness expectancy burns;
+ And I hope--yes, I hope once more,
+ Till my hope waxes high as a tower[99] in its soar.
+
+
+[95] "Anne"--Rob's first love, the heroine of the piece. "Similar in
+interest to the Highland Mary of Burns, is the yellow-haired Anne of Rob
+Donn."--"Life," p. 18.
+
+[96] "Isabel"--the daughter of Ian Macechan, the subject of other
+verses.
+
+[97] "Unsummon'd of thee." The idea is rather quaintly expressed in the
+original thus--"Though thou hast sent me no summons, love has, of his
+own accord, acted the part of a catchpole (or sheriff's officer), and
+will not release me." Such are the homely fancies introduced into some
+of the most passionate strains of the Gaelic muse.
+
+[98] Alluding to his absence, and delay in his courtship.
+
+[99] Rather more modest than the classic's "feriam sidera vertice."
+
+
+
+
+ISABEL MACKAY--THE MAID ALONE.
+
+TO A PIOBRACH TUNE.
+
+ This is one of those lyrics, of which there are many in Gaelic poetry,
+ that are intended to imitate pipe music. They consist of three parts,
+ called Urlar, Siubhal, and Crunluath. The first is a slow, monotonous
+ measure, usually, indeed, a mere repetition of the same words or tones;
+ the second, a livelier or brisker melody, striking into description or
+ narrative; the third, a rapid finale, taxing the reciter's or
+ performer's powers to their utmost pitch of expedition. The heroine of
+ the song is the same Isabel who is introduced towards the commencement
+ of the "Forsaken Drover;" and it appears, from other verses in Mackay's
+ collection, that it was not her fate to be "alone" through life. It is
+ to be understood that when the verses were composed, she was in charge
+ of her father's extensive pastoral _manége_, and not a mere milk-maid or
+ dairy-woman.
+
+
+ URLAR.
+
+ Isabel Mackay is with the milk kye,
+ And Isabel Mackay is alone;
+ Isabel Mackay is with the milk kye,
+ And Isabel Mackay is alone, &c.
+ Seest thou Isabel Mackay with the milk kye,
+ At the forest foot--and alone?
+
+
+ SIUBHAL.
+
+ By the Virgin and Son![100]
+ Thou bride-lacking one,
+ If ever thy time
+ Is coming, begone,
+ The occasion is prime,
+ For Isabel Mackay
+ Is with the milk kye
+ At the skirts of the forest,
+ And with her is none.
+ By the Virgin and Son, &c.
+
+ Woe is the sign!
+ It is not well
+ With the lads that dwell
+ Around us, so brave,
+ When the mistress fine
+ Of Riothan-a-dave
+ Is out with the kine,
+ And with her is none.
+ O, woe is the sign, &c.
+
+ Whoever he be
+ That a bride would gain
+ Of gentle degree,
+ And a drove or twain,
+ His speed let him strain
+ To Riothan-a-dave,
+ And a bride he shall have.
+ Then, to her so fain!
+ Whoever he be, &c.
+
+ And a bride he shall have,
+ The maid that's alone.
+ Isabel Mackay, &c.
+ Oh, seest not the dearie
+ So fit for embracing,
+ Her patience distressing,
+ The bestial a-chasing,
+ And she alone!
+
+ 'Tis a marvellous fashion
+ That men should be slack,
+ When their bosoms lack
+ An object of passion,
+ To look such a lass on,
+ Her patience distressing,
+ The bestial a-chasing,
+ In the field, alone.
+
+
+ CRUNLUATH (FINALE).
+
+ Oh, look upon the prize, sirs,
+ That where yon heights are rising,
+ The whole long twelvemonth sighs in,
+ Because she is alone.
+ Go, learn it from my minstrelsy,
+ Who list the tale to carry,
+ The maiden shuns the public eye,
+ And is ordain'd to tarry
+ 'Mid stoups and cans, and milking ware,
+ Where brown hills rear their ridges bare,
+ And wails her plight the livelong year,
+ To spend the day alone.
+
+
+[100] A common Highland adjuration.
+
+
+
+
+EVAN'S ELEGY.
+
+ Mackay was benighted on a deer-stalking expedition, near a wild hut
+ or shealing, at the head of Loch Eriboll. Here he found its only
+ inmate a poor asthmatic old man, stretched on his pallet,
+ apparently at the point of death. As he sat by his bed-side, he
+ "crooned," so as to be audible, it seems, to the patient, the
+ following elegiac ditty, in which, it will be observed, he alludes
+ to the death, then recent, of Pelham, an eminent statesman of
+ George the Second's reign. As he was finishing his ditty, the old
+ man's feelings were moved in a way which will be found in the
+ appended note. This is one of Sir Walter Scott's extracts in the
+ _Quarterly_, and is now attempted in the measure of the original.
+
+
+ How often, Death! art waking
+ The imploring cry of Nature!
+ When she sees her phalanx breaking,
+ As thou'dst have all--grim feature!
+ Since Autumn's leaves to brownness,
+ Of deeper shade were tending,
+ We saw thy step, from palaces,
+ To Evan's nook descending.
+ Oh, long, long thine agony!
+ A nameless length its tide;
+ Since breathless thou hast panted here,
+ And not a friend beside.
+ Thine errors what, I judge not;
+ What righteous deeds undone;
+ But if remains a se'ennight,
+ Redeem it, dying one!
+
+ Oh, marked we, Death! thy teachings true,
+ What dust of time would blind?
+ Such thy impartiality
+ To our highest, lowest kind.
+ Thy look is upwards, downwards shot,
+ Determined none to miss;
+ It rose to Pelham's princely bower,
+ It sinks to shed like this!
+ Oh, long, long, &c.!
+ So great thy victims, that the noble
+ Stand humbled by the bier;
+ So poor, it shames the poorest
+ To grace them with a tear.
+ Between the minister of state
+ And him that grovels there,
+ Should one remain uncounselled,
+ Is there one whom dool shall spare?
+ Oh, long, long, &c.!
+ The hail that strews the battle-field
+ Not louder sounds its call,
+ Than the falling thousands round us
+ Are voicing words to all.
+ Hearken! least of all the nameless;
+ Evan's hour is going fast;
+ Hearken! greatest of earth's great ones--
+ Princely Pelham's hour is past.
+ Oh, long, long, &c.!
+ Friends of my heart! in the twain we see
+ A type of life's declining;
+ 'Tis like the lantern's dripping light,
+ At either end a-dwining.
+ Where was there one more low than thou--
+ Thou least of meanest things?[101]
+ And where than his was higher place
+ Except the throne of kings?
+ Oh, long, long, &c.!
+
+
+[101] At this humiliating apostrophe, the beggar is reported to have
+instinctively raised his staff--an action which the bard observed just
+in time to avoid its descent on his back.
+
+
+
+
+DOUGAL BUCHANAN.
+
+
+Dougal Buchanan was born at the Mill of Ardoch, in the beautiful valley
+of Strathyre, and parish of Balquhidder, in the year 1716. His parents
+were in circumstances to allow him the education of the parish school;
+on which, by private application, he so far improved, as to be qualified
+to act as teacher and catechist to the Highland locality which borders
+on Loch Rannoch, under the appointment of the Society for Propagating
+Christian Knowledge. Never, it is believed, were the duties of a calling
+discharged with more zeal and efficiency. The catechist was, both in and
+out of the strict department of his office, a universal oracle,[102] and
+his name is revered in the scene of his usefulness in a degree to which
+the honours of canonization could scarcely have added. Pious, to the
+height of a proverbial model, he was withal frank, cheerful, and social;
+and from his extraordinary command of the Gaelic idiom, and its poetic
+phraseology, he must have lent an ear to many a song and many a
+legend[103]--a nourishment of the imagination in which, as well as in
+purity of Gaelic, his native Balquhidder was immeasurably inferior to
+the Rannoch district of his adoption.
+
+The composition of hymns, embracing a most eloquent and musical
+paraphrase of many of the more striking inspirations of scriptural
+poetry, seems to have been the favourite employment of his leisure
+hours. These are sung or recited in every cottage of the Highlands where
+a reader or a retentive memory is to be found.
+
+Buchanan's life was short. He was cut off by typhus fever, at a period
+when his talents had begun to attract a more than local attention. It
+was within a year after his return from superintending the press of the
+first version of the Gaelic New Testament, that his lamented death took
+place. His command of his native tongue is understood to have been
+serviceable to the translator, the Rev. James Stewart of Killin, who had
+probably been Buchanan's early acquaintance, as they were natives of the
+same district. This reverend gentleman is said to have entertained a
+scheme of getting the catechist regularly licensed to preach the gospel
+without the usual academical preparation. The scheme was frustrated by
+his death, in the summer of 1768.
+
+We know of no fact relating to the development of the poetic vein of
+this interesting bard, unless it be found in the circumstance to which
+he refers in his "Diary,"[104] of having been bred a violent Jacobite,
+and having lived many years under the excitement of strong, even
+vindictive feelings, at the fate of his chief and landlord (Buchanan of
+Arnprior and Strathyre), who, with many of his dependents, and some of
+the poet's relations, suffered death for their share in the last
+rebellion. While he relates that the power of religion at length
+quenched this effervescence of his emotions, it may be supposed that
+ardent Jacobitism, with its common accompaniment of melody, may have
+fostered an imagination which every circumstance proves to have been
+sufficiently susceptible. It may be added, as a particular not unworthy
+of memorial in a poet's life, that his remains are deposited in perhaps
+the most picturesque place of sepulture in the kingdom--the peninsula of
+Little Leny, in the neighbourhood of Callander; to which his relatives
+transferred his body, as the sepulchre of many chiefs and considerable
+persons of his clan, and where it is perhaps matter of surprise that his
+Highland countrymen have never thought of honouring his memory with some
+kind of monument.
+
+The poetic remains of Dougal Buchanan do not afford extensive materials
+for translation. The subjects with which he deals are too solemn, and
+their treatment too surcharged with scriptural imagery, to be available
+for the purposes of a popular collection, of which the object is not
+directly religious. The only exception that occurs, perhaps, is his poem
+on "The Skull." Even in this case some moral pictures[105] have been
+omitted, as either too coarsely or too solemnly touched, to be fit for
+our purpose. A few lines of the conclusion are also omitted, as being
+mere amplifications of Scripture--wonderful, indeed, in point of
+vernacular beauty or sublimity, but not fusible for other use. Slight
+traces of imitation may be perceived; "The Grave" of Blair, and some
+passages of "Hamlet," being the apparent models.
+
+
+[102] "Statistical Account of Fortingall."--Stat. Acc., x., p. 549.
+
+[103] The same account observes that though none of his works are
+published but his sacred compositions, he composed "several songs on
+various subjects."
+
+[104] Published at Glasgow, 1836.
+
+[105] These are his descriptions of "The Drunkard," "The Glutton," and
+"The Good and Wicked Pastor."
+
+
+
+
+A CLAGIONN.
+
+THE SKULL.
+
+
+ As I sat by the grave, at the brink of its cave
+ Lo! a featureless skull on the ground;
+ The symbol I clasp, and detain in my grasp,
+ While I turn it around and around.
+ Without beauty or grace, or a glance to express
+ Of the bystander nigh, a thought;
+ Its jaw and its mouth are tenantless both,
+ Nor passes emotion its throat.
+ No glow on its face, no ringlets to grace
+ Its brow, and no ear for my song;
+ Hush'd the caves of its breath, and the finger of death
+ The raised features hath flatten'd along.
+ The eyes' wonted beam, and the eyelids' quick gleam--
+ The intelligent sight, are no more;
+ But the worms of the soil, as they wriggle and coil,
+ Come hither their dwellings to bore.
+ No lineament here is left to declare
+ If monarch or chief art thou;
+ Alexander the Brave, as the portionless slave
+ That on dunghill expires, is as low.
+ Thou delver of death, in my ear let thy breath
+ Who tenants my hand, unfold;
+ That my voice may not die without a reply,
+ Though the ear it addresses is cold.
+ Say, wert thou a May,[106] of beauty a ray,
+ And flatter'd thine eye with a smile?
+ Thy meshes didst set, like the links of a net,
+ The hearts of the youth to wile?
+ Alas every charm that a bosom could warm
+ Is changed to the grain of disgust!
+ Oh, fie on the spoiler for daring to soil her
+ Gracefulness all in the dust!
+ Say, wise in the law, did the people with awe
+ Acknowledge thy rule o'er them--
+ A magistrate true, to all dealing their due,
+ And just to redress or condemn?
+ Or was righteousness sold for handfuls of gold
+ In the scales of thy partial decree;
+ While the poor were unheard when their suit they preferr'd,
+ And appeal'd their distresses to thee?
+ Say, once in thine hour, was thy medicine of power
+ To extinguish the fever of ail?
+ And seem'd, as the pride of thy leech-craft e'en tried
+ O'er omnipotent death to prevail?
+ Alas, that thine aid should have ever betray'd
+ Thy hope when the need was thine own;
+ What salve or annealing sufficed for thy healing
+ When the hours of thy portion were flown?
+ Or--wert thou a hero, a leader to glory,
+ While armies thy truncheon obey'd;
+ To victory cheering, as thy foemen careering
+ In flight, left their mountains of dead?
+ Was thy valiancy laid, or unhilted thy blade,
+ When came onwards in battle array
+ The sepulchre-swarms, ensheathed in their arms,
+ To sack and to rifle their prey?
+ How they joy in their spoil, as thy body the while
+ Besieging, the reptile is vain,
+ And her beetle-mate blind hums his gladness to find
+ His defence in the lodge of thy brain!
+ Some dig where the sheen of the ivory has been,
+ Some, the organ where music repair'd;
+ In rabble and rout they come in and come out
+ At the gashes their fangs have bared.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ Do I hold in my hand a whole lordship of land,
+ Represented by nakedness, here?
+ Perhaps not unkind to the helpless thy mind,
+ Nor all unimparted thy gear;
+ Perhaps stern of brow to thy tenantry thou!
+ To leanness their countenances grew--
+ 'Gainst their crave for respite, when thy clamour for right
+ Required, to a moment, its due;
+ While the frown of thy pride to the aged denied
+ To cover their head from the chill,
+ And humbly they stand, with their bonnet in hand,
+ As cold blows the blast of the hill.
+ Thy serfs may look on, unheeding thy frown,
+ Thy rents and thy mailings unpaid;
+ All praise to the stroke their bondage that broke!
+ While but claims their obeisance the dead.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ Or a head do I clutch, whose devices were such,
+ That death must have lent them his sting--
+ So daring they were, so reckless of fear,
+ As heaven had wanted a king?
+ Did the tongue of the lie, while it couch'd like a spy
+ In the haunt of thy venomous jaws,
+ Its slander display, as poisons its prey
+ The devilish snake in the grass?
+ That member unchain'd, by strong bands is restrain'd,
+ The inflexible shackles of death;
+ And, its emblem, the trail of the worm, shall prevail
+ Where its slaver once harbour'd beneath.
+ And oh! if thy scorn went down to thine urn
+ And expired, with impenitent groan;
+ To repose where thou art is of peace all thy part,
+ And then to appear--at the Throne!
+ Like a frog, from the lake that leapeth, to take
+ To the Judge of thy actions the way,
+ And to hear from His lips, amid nature's eclipse,
+ Thy sentence of termless dismay.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ The hardness of iron thy bones shall environ,
+ To brass-links the veins of thy frame
+ Shall stiffen, and the glow of thy manhood shall grow
+ Like the anvil that melts not in flame!
+ But wert thou the mould of a champion bold
+ For God and his truth and his law?
+ Oh, then, though the fence of each limb and each sense
+ Is broken--each gem with a flaw--
+ Be comforted thou! For rising in air
+ Thy flight shall the clarion obey;
+ And the shell of thy dust thou shalt leave to be crush'd,
+ If they will, by the creatures of prey.
+
+
+[106] Maiden or virgin--_orig._
+
+
+
+
+AM BRUADAR.
+
+THE DREAM.
+
+ We submit these further illustrations of the moral maxims of "The
+ Skull." In the original they are touched in phraseology scarcely
+ unworthy of the poet's Saxon models.
+
+
+ As lockfasted in slumber's arms
+ I lay and dream'd (so dreams our race
+ When every spectral object charms,
+ To melt, like shadow, in the chase),
+
+ A vision came; mine ear confess'd
+ Its solemn sounds. "Thou man distraught!
+ Say, owns the wind thy hand's arrest,
+ Or fills the world thy crave of thought?
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ "Since fell transgression ravaged here
+ And reft Man's garden-joys away,
+ He weeps his unavailing tear,
+ And straggles, like a lamb astray.
+
+ "With shrilling bleat for comfort hie
+ To every pinfold, humankind;
+ Ah, there the fostering teat is dry,
+ The stranger mother proves unkind.
+
+ "No rest for toil, no drink for drought,
+ For bosom-peace the shadow's wing--
+ So feeds expectancy on nought,
+ And suckles every lying thing.
+
+ "Some woe for ever wreathes its chain,
+ And hope foretells the clasp undone;
+ Relief at handbreadth seems, in vain
+ Thy fetter'd arms embrace--'tis gone!
+
+ "Not all that trial's lore unlearns
+ Of all the lies that life betrays,
+ Avails, for still desire returns--
+ The last day's folly is to-day's.
+
+ "Thy wish has prosper'd--has its taste
+ Survived the hour its lust was drown'd;
+ Or yields thine expectation's zest
+ To full fruition, golden-crown'd?
+
+ "The rosebud is life's symbol bloom,
+ 'Tis loved, 'tis coveted, 'tis riven--
+ Its grace, its fragrance, find a tomb,
+ When to the grasping hand 'tis given.
+
+ "Go, search the world, wherever woe
+ Of high or low the bosom wrings,
+ There, gasp for gasp, and throe for throe,
+ Is answer'd from the breast of kings.
+
+ "From every hearth-turf reeks its cloud,
+ From every heart its sigh is roll'd;
+ The rose's stalk is fang'd--one shroud
+ Is both the sting's and honey's fold.
+
+ "Is wealth thy lust--does envy pine
+ Where high its tempting heaps are piled?
+ Look down, behold the fountain shine,
+ And, deeper still, with dregs defiled!
+
+ "Quickens thy breath with rash inhale,
+ And falls an insect[107] in its toil?
+ The creature turns thy life-blood pale,
+ And blends thine ivory teeth with soil.
+
+ "When high thy fellow-mortal soars,
+ His state is like the topmost nest--
+ It swings with every blast that roars,
+ And every motion shakes its crest.
+
+ "And if the world for once is kind,
+ Yet ever has the lot its bend;
+ Where fortune has the crook inclined,
+ Not all thy strength or art shall mend.
+
+ "For as the sapling's sturdy stalk,
+ Whose double twist is crossly strain'd,
+ Such is thy fortune--sure to baulk
+ At this extreme what there was gain'd.
+
+ "When Heaven its gracious manna hail'd,
+ 'Twas vain who hoarded its supply,
+ Not all his miser care avail'd
+ His neighbour's portion to outvie.
+
+ "So, blended all that nature owns,
+ So, warp'd all hopes that mortals bless--
+ With boundless wealth, the sufferer's groans;
+ With courtly luxury, distress.
+
+ "Lift up the balance--heap with gold,
+ Its other shell vile dust shall fill;
+ And were a kingdom's ransom told,
+ The scales would want adjustment still.
+
+ "Life has its competence--nor deem
+ That better than enough were more;
+ Sure it were phantasy to dream
+ With burdens to assuage thy sore.
+
+ "It is the fancy's whirling strife
+ That breeds thy pain--to-day it craves,
+ To-morrow spurns--suffices life
+ When passion asks what passion braves?
+
+ "Should appetite her wish achieve,
+ To herd with brutes her joy would bound;
+ Pleased other paradise to leave,
+ Content to pasture on the ground.
+
+ "But pride rebels, nor towers alone
+ Beyond that confine's lowly sphere--
+ Seems as from the Eternal Throne
+ It aim'd the sceptre's self to tear.
+
+ "'Tis thus we trifle, thus we dare;
+ But, seek we to our bliss the way,
+ Let us to Heaven our path refer,
+ Believe, and worship, and obey.
+
+ "That choice is all--to range beyond
+ Nor must, nor needs; provision, grace,
+ In these He gives, who sits enthroned,
+ Salvation, competence, and peace."
+
+ The instructive vision pass'd away,
+ But not its wisdom's dreamless lore;
+ No more in shadow-tracks I stray,
+ And fondle shadow-shapes no more.
+
+
+[107] _Orig._--The venomous red spider.
+
+
+
+
+DUNCAN MACINTYRE.
+
+
+Duncan Macintyre (Donacha Ban) is considered by his countrymen the most
+extraordinary genius that the Highlands in modern times have produced.
+Without having learned a letter of any alphabet, he was enabled to pour
+forth melodies that charmed every ear to which they were intelligible.
+And he is understood to have had the published specimens of his poetry
+committed to writing by no mean judge of their merit,--the late Dr
+Stewart of Luss,--who, when a young man, became acquainted with this
+extraordinary person, in consequence of his being employed as a kind of
+under-keeper in a forest adjoining to the parish of which the Doctor's
+father was minister.
+
+Macintyre was born in Druimliart of Glenorchy on the 20th of March 1724,
+and died in October 1812. He was chiefly employed in the capacity of
+keeper in several of the Earl of Breadalbane's forests. He carried a
+musket, however, in his lordship's fencibles; which led him to take
+part, much against his inclination, in the Whig ranks at the battle of
+Falkirk. Later in life he transferred his musket to the Edinburgh City
+Guard.
+
+Macintyre's best compositions are those which are descriptive of forest
+scenes, and those which he dedicated to the praise of his wife. His
+verses are, however, very numerous, and embrace a vast variety of
+subjects. From the extraordinary diffusiveness of his descriptions, and
+the boundless luxuriance of his expressions, much difficulty has been
+experienced in reproducing his strains in the English idiom.
+
+
+
+
+MAIRI BHĀN ŌG.
+
+MARY, THE YOUNG, THE FAIR-HAIR'D.
+
+
+ My young, my fair, my fair-hair'd Mary,
+ My life-time love, my own!
+ The vows I heard, when my kindest dearie
+ Was bound to me alone,
+ By covenant true, and ritual holy,
+ Gave happiness all but divine;
+ Nor needed there more to transport me wholly,
+ Than the friends that hail'd thee mine.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ 'Twas a Monday morn, and the way that parted
+ Was far, but I rivall'd the wind,
+ The troth to plight with a maiden true-hearted,
+ That force can never unbind.
+ I led her apart, and the hour that we reckon'd,
+ While I gain'd a love and a bride,
+ I heard my heart, and could tell each second,
+ As its pulses struck on my side.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ I told my ail to the foe that pain'd me,
+ And said that no salve could save;
+ She heard the tale, and her leech-craft it sain'd me,
+ For herself to my breast she gave.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ Forever, my dear, I 'll dearly adore thee
+ For chasing away, away,
+ My fancy's delusion, new loves ever choosing,
+ And teaching no more to stray.
+ I roam'd in the wood, many a tendril surveying,
+ All shapely from branch to stem,
+ My eye, as it look'd, its ambition betraying
+ To cull the fairest from them;
+ One branch of perfume, in blossom all over,
+ Bent lowly down to my hand,
+ And yielded its bloom, that hung high from each lover,
+ To me, the least of the band.
+ I went to the river, one net-cast I threw in,
+ Where the stream's transparence ran,
+ Forget shall I never, how the beauty[108] I drew in,
+ Shone bright as the gloss of the swan.
+ Oh, happy the day that crown'd my affection
+ With such a prize to my share!
+ My love is a ray, a morning reflection,
+ Beside me she sleeps, a star.
+
+
+[108] Gaelic, "gealag"--descriptive of the salmon, from its glossy
+brightness.
+
+
+
+
+BENDOURAIN, THE OTTER MOUNT.
+
+
+Bendourain is a forest scene in the wilds of Glenorchy. The poem, or
+lay, is descriptive, less of the forest, or its mountain fastnesses,
+than of the habits of the creatures that tenant the locality--the
+dun-deer, and the roe. So minutely enthusiastic is the hunter's
+treatment of his theme, that the attempt to win any favour for his
+performance from the Saxon reader, is attended with no small
+risk,--although it is possible that a little practice with the rifle in
+any similar wilderness may propitiate even the holiday sportsman
+somewhat in favour of the subject and its minute details. We must commit
+this forest minstrel to the good-nature of other readers, entreating
+them only to render due acknowledgment to the forbearance which has, in
+the meantime, troubled them only with the first half of the performance,
+and with a single stanza of the finale. The composition is always
+rehearsed or sung to pipe music, of which it is considered, by those who
+understand the original, a most extraordinary echo, besides being in
+other respects a very powerful specimen of Gaelic minstrelsy.
+
+
+ URLAR.
+
+ The noble Otter hill!
+ It is a chieftain Beinn,[109]
+ Ever the fairest still
+ Of all these eyes have seen.
+ Spacious is his side;
+ I love to range where hide,
+ In haunts by few espied,
+ The nurslings of his den.
+ In the bosky shade
+ Of the velvet glade,
+ Couch, in softness laid,
+ The nimble-footed deer;
+ To see the spotted pack,
+ That in scenting never slack,
+ Coursing on their track,
+ Is the prime of cheer.
+ Merry may the stag be,
+ The lad that so fairly
+ Flourishes the russet coat
+ That fits him so rarely.
+ 'Tis a mantle whose wear
+ Time shall not tear;
+ 'Tis a banner that ne'er
+ Sees its colours depart:
+ And when they seek his doom,
+ Let a man of action come,
+ A hunter in his bloom,
+ With rifle not untried:
+ A notch'd, firm fasten'd flint,
+ To strike a trusty dint,
+ And make the gun-lock glint
+ With a flash of pride.
+ Let the barrel be but true,
+ And the stock be trusty too,
+ So, Lightfoot,[110] though he flew,
+ Shall be purple-dyed.
+ He should not be novice bred,
+ But a marksman of first head,
+ By whom that stag is sped,
+ In hill-craft not unskill'd;
+ So, when Padraig of the glen
+ Call'd his hounds and men,
+ The hill spake back again,
+ As his orders shrill'd;
+ Then was firing snell,
+ And the bullets rain'd like hail,
+ And the red-deer fell
+ Like warrior on the field.
+
+
+ SIUBHAL.
+
+ Oh, the young doe so frisky,
+ So coy, and so fair,
+ That gambols so briskly,
+ And snuffs up the air;
+ And hurries, retiring,
+ To the rocks that environ,
+ When foemen are firing,
+ And bullets are there.
+ Though swift in her racing,
+ Like the kinsfolk before her,
+ No heart-burst, unbracing
+ Her strength, rushes o'er her.
+ 'Tis exquisite hearing
+ Her murmur, as, nearing,
+ Her mate comes careering,
+ Her pride, and her lover;--
+ He comes--and her breathing
+ Her rapture is telling;
+ How his antlers are wreathing,
+ His white haunch, how swelling!
+ High chief of Bendorain,
+ He seems, as adoring
+ His hind, he comes roaring
+ To visit her dwelling.
+ 'Twere endless my singing
+ How the mountain is teeming
+ With thousands, that bringing
+ Each a high chief's[111] proud seeming,
+ With his hind, and her gala
+ Of younglings, that follow
+ O'er mountain and beala,[112]
+ All lightsome are beaming.
+ When that lightfoot so airy,
+ Her race is pursuing,
+ Oh, what vision saw e'er a
+ Feat of flight like her doing?
+ She springs, and the spreading grass
+ Scarce feels her treading,
+ It were fleet foot that sped in
+ Twice the time that she flew in.
+ The gallant array!
+ How the marshes they spurn,
+ In the frisk of their play,
+ And the wheelings they turn,--
+ As the cloud of the mind
+ They would distance behind,
+ And give years to the wind,
+ In the pride of their scorn!
+ 'Tis the marrow of health
+ In the forest to lie,
+ Where, nooking in stealth,
+ They enjoy her[113] supply,--
+ Her fosterage breeding
+ A race never needing,
+ Save the milk of her feeding,
+ From a breast never dry.
+ Her hill-grass they suckle,
+ Her mammets[114] they swill,
+ And in wantonness chuckle
+ O'er tempest and chill;
+ With their ankles so light,
+ And their girdles[115] of white,
+ And their bodies so bright
+ With the drink of the rill.
+ Through the grassy glen sporting
+ In murmurless glee,
+ Nor snow-drift nor fortune
+ Shall urge them to flee,
+ Save to seek their repose
+ In the clefts of the knowes,
+ And the depths of the howes
+ Of their own Eas-an-ti.[116]
+
+
+ URLAR.
+
+ In the forest den, the deer
+ Makes, as best befits, his lair,
+ Where is plenty, and to spare,
+ Of her grassy feast.
+ There she browses free
+ On herbage of the lea,
+ Or marsh grass, daintily,
+ Until her haunch is greased.
+ Her drink is of the well,
+ Where the water-cresses swell,
+ Nor with the flowing shell
+ Is the toper better pleased.
+ The bent makes nobler cheer,
+ Or the rashes of the mere,
+ Than all the creagh that e'er
+ Gave surfeit to a guest.
+ Come, see her table spread;
+ The _sorach_[117] sweet display'd
+ The _ealvi_,[118] and the head
+ Of the daisy stem;
+ The _dorach_[119] crested, sleek,
+ And ringed with many a streak,
+ Presents her pastures meek,
+ Profusely by the stream.
+ Such the luxuries
+ That plump their noble size,
+ And the herd entice
+ To revel in the howes.
+ Nobler haunches never sat on
+ Pride of grease, than when they batten
+ On the forest links, and fatten
+ On the herbs of their carouse.
+ Oh, 'tis pleasant, in the gloaming,
+ When the supper-time
+ Calls all their hosts from roaming,
+ To see their social prime;
+ And when the shadows gather,
+ They lair on native heather,
+ Nor shelter from the weather
+ Need, but the knolls behind.
+ Dread or dark is none;
+ Their 's the mountain throne,
+ Height and slope their own,
+ The gentle mountain kind;
+ Pleasant is the grace
+ Of their hue, and dappled dress,
+ And an ark in their distress,
+ In Bendorain dear they find.
+
+
+ SIUBHAL.
+
+ So brilliant thy hue
+ With tendril and flow'ret,
+ The grace of the view,
+ What land can o'erpower it?
+ Thou mountain of beauty,
+ Methinks it might suit thee,
+ The homage of beauty
+ To claim as a queen.
+ What needs it? Adoring
+ Thy reign, we see pouring
+ The wealth of their store in
+ Already, I ween.
+ The seasons--scarce roll'd once,
+ Their gifts are twice told--
+ And the months, they unfold
+ On thy bosom their dower,
+ With profusion so rare,
+ Ne'er was clothing so fair,
+ Nor was jewelling e'er
+ Like the bud and the flower
+ Of the groves on thy breast,
+ Where rejoices to rest
+ His magnificent crest,
+ The mountain-cock, shrilling
+ In quick time, his note;
+ And the clans of the grot
+ With melody's note,
+ Their numbers are trilling.
+ No foot can compare,
+ In the dance of the green,
+ With the roebuck's young heir;
+ And here he is seen
+ With his deftness of speed,
+ And his sureness of tread,
+ And his bend of the head,
+ And his freedom of spring!
+ Over corrie careers he,
+ The wood-cover clears he,
+ And merrily steers he
+ With bound, and with fling,--
+ As he spurns from his stern
+ The heather and fern,
+ And dives in the dern[120]
+ Of the wilderness deep;
+ Or, anon, with a strain,
+ And a twang of each vein
+ He revels amain
+ 'Mid the cliffs of the steep.
+ With the burst of a start
+ When the flame of his heart
+ Impels to depart,
+ How he distances all!
+ Two bounds at a leap,
+ The brown hillocks to sweep,
+ His appointment to keep
+ With the doe, at her call.
+ With her following, the roe
+ From the danger of ken
+ Couches inly, and low,
+ In the haunts of the glen;
+ Ever watchful to hear,
+ Ever active to peer,
+ Ever deft to career,--
+ All ear, vision, and limb.
+ And though Cult[121] and Cuchullin,
+ With their horses and following,
+ Should rush to her dwelling,
+ And our prince[122] in his trim,
+ They might vainly aspire
+ Without rifle and fire
+ To ruffle or nigh her,
+ Her mantle to dim.
+ Stark-footed, lively,
+ Ever capering naively
+ With motion alive, aye,
+ And wax-white, in shine,
+ When her startle betrays
+ That the hounds are in chase,
+ The same as the base
+ Is the rocky decline--
+ She puffs from her chest,
+ And she ambles her crest
+ And disdain is express'd
+ In her nostril and eye;--
+ That eye--how it winks!
+ Like a sunbeam it blinks,
+ And it glows, and it sinks,
+ And is jealous and shy!
+ A mountaineer lynx,
+ Like her race that 's gone by.
+
+
+ CRUNLUATH (FINALE).
+
+ Her lodge is in the valley--here
+ No huntsman, void of notion,
+ Should hurry on the fallow deer,
+ But steal on her with caution;--
+ With wary step and watchfulness
+ To stalk her to her resting place,
+ Insures the gallant wight's success,
+ Before she is in motion.
+ The hunter bold should follow then,
+ By bog, and rock, and hollow, then,
+ And nestle in the gulley, then,
+ And watch with deep devotion
+ The shadows on the benty grass,
+ And how they come, and how they pass;
+ Nor must he stir, with gesture rash,
+ To quicken her emotion.
+ With nerve and eye so wary, sir,
+ That straight his piece may carry, sir,
+ He marks with care the quarry, sir,
+ The muzzle to repose on;
+ And now, the knuckle is applied,
+ The flint is struck, the priming tried,
+ Is fired, the volley has replied,
+ And reeks in high commotion;--
+ Was better powder ne'er to flint,
+ Nor trustier wadding of the lint--
+ And so we strike a telling dint,
+ Well done, my own Nic-Coisean![123]
+
+
+[109] Anglicised into _Ben_.
+
+[110] The deer.
+
+[111] Stag of the first head.
+
+[112] Pass.
+
+[113] Any one who has heard a native attempt the Lowland tongue for the
+first time, is familiar with the personification that turns every
+inanimate object into _he_ or _she_. The forest is here happily
+personified as a nurse or mother.
+
+[114] Bog-holes.
+
+[115] Stripings.
+
+[116] _Gaelic_--Easan-an-tsith.
+
+[117] Primrose.
+
+[118] St John's wort.
+
+[119] A kind of cress, or marshmallow.
+
+[120] _Anglice_--dark.
+
+[121] _Gaelic_--Caoillt; who, with Cuchullin, makes a figure in
+traditional Gaelic poetry.
+
+[122] _Gaelic_--King George.
+
+[123] Literally--"From the barrel of Nic-Coisean." This was the poet's
+favourite gun, to which his muse has addressed a separate song of
+considerable merit.
+
+
+
+
+THE BARD TO HIS MUSKET.[124]
+
+ Macintyre acted latterly as a constable of the City Guard of
+ Edinburgh, a situation procured him by the Earl of Breadalbane, at
+ his own special request; that benevolent nobleman having inquired
+ of the bard what he could do for him to render him independent in
+ his now advanced years. His salary as a peace-officer was sixpence
+ a-day; but the poet was so abundantly satisfied with the attainment
+ of his position and endowments, that he gave expression to his
+ feelings of satisfaction in a piece of minstrelsy, which in the
+ original ranks among his best productions. Of this ode we are
+ enabled to present a faithful metrical translation, quite in the
+ spirit of the original, as far as conversion of the Gaelic into the
+ Scottish idiom is practicable. The version was kindly undertaken at
+ our request by Mr William Sinclair, the ingenious author of "Poems
+ of the Fancy and the Affections," who has appropriately adapted it
+ to the lively tune, "Alister M'Alister." The song, remarks Mr
+ Sinclair, is much in the spirit, though in a more humorous strain,
+ of the famous Sword Song, beginning in the translation, "Come
+ forth, my glittering Bride," composed by Theodore Körner of
+ Dresden, and the last and most remarkable of his patriotic
+ productions, wherein the soldier addresses his sword as his bride,
+ thereby giving expression to the most glowing sentiments of
+ patriotism. Macintyre addresses as his wife the musket which he
+ carried as an officer of the guard; and is certainly as
+ enthusiastic in praise of his new acquisition, as ever was
+ love-sick swain in eulogy of the most attractive fair one.
+
+
+ Oh! mony a turn of woe and weal
+ May happen to a Highlan' man;
+ Though he fall in love he soon may feel
+ He cannot get the fancied one;
+ The first I loved in time that 's past,
+ I courted twenty years, ochone!
+ But she forsook me at the last,
+ And Duncan then was left alone.
+
+ To Edinbro' I forthwith hied
+ To seek a sweetheart to my mind,
+ An', if I could, to find a bride
+ For the fause love I left behind;
+ Said Captain Campbell of the Guard,
+ "I ken a widow secretly,
+ An' I 'll try, as she 's no that ill faur'd,
+ To put her, Duncan, in your way."
+
+ As was his wont, I trow, did he
+ Fulfil his welcome promise true,
+ He gave the widow unto me,
+ And all her portion with her too;
+ And whosoe'er may ask her name,
+ And her surname also may desire,
+ They call her Janet[125]--great her fame--
+ An' 'twas George who was her grandsire.
+
+ She 's quiet, an' affable, an' free,
+ No vexing gloom or look at hand,
+ As high in rank and in degree
+ As any lady in the land;
+ She 's my support and my relief,
+ Since e'er she join'd me, any how;
+ Great is the cureless cause of grief
+ To him who has not got her now!
+
+ Nic-Coisean[126] I 've forsaken quite,
+ Altho' she liveth still at ease--
+ An' allow the crested stags to fight
+ And wander wheresoe'er they please,
+ A young wife I have chosen now,
+ Which I repent not any where,
+ I am not wanting wealth, I trow,
+ Since ever I espoused the fair.
+
+ I pass my word of honour bright--
+ Most excellent I do her call;
+ In her I ne'er, in any light,
+ Discover'd any fault at all.
+ She is stately, fine, an' straight, an' sound,
+ Without a hidden fault, my friend;
+ In her, defect I never found,
+ Nor yet a blemish, twist, or bend.
+
+ When needy folk are pinch'd, alas!
+ For money in a great degree;
+ Ah, George's daughter--generous lass--
+ Ne'er lets my pockets empty be;
+ She keepeth me in drink, and stays
+ By me in ale-houses and all,
+ An' at once, without a word, she pays
+ For every stoup I choose to call!
+
+ An' every turn I bid her do
+ She does it with a willing grace;
+ She never tells me aught untrue,
+ Nor story false, with lying face;
+ She keeps my rising family
+ As well as I could e'er desire,
+ Although no labour I do try,
+ Nor dirty work for love or hire.
+
+ I labour'd once laboriously,
+ Although no riches I amass'd;
+ A menial I disdain'd to be,
+ An' keep my vow unto the last.
+ I have ceased to labour in the lan',
+ Since e'er I noticed to my wife,
+ That the idle and contented man
+ Endureth to the longest life.
+
+ 'Tis my musket--loving wife, indeed--
+ In whom I faithfully believe,
+ She 's able still to earn my bread,
+ An' Duncan she will ne'er deceive;
+ I 'll have no lack of linens fair,
+ An' plenty clothes to serve my turn,
+ An' trust me that all worldly care
+ Now gives me not the least concern.
+
+
+[124] The "Auld Town Guard" of Edinburgh, which existed before the
+Police Acts came into operation, was composed principally of
+Highlandmen, some of them old pensioners. Their rendezvous, or place of
+resort, was in the vicinity of old St Giles's Church, where they might
+generally be found smoking, snuffing, and speaking in the true Highland
+vernacular. Archie Campbell, celebrated by Macintyre as "Captain
+Campbell," was the last, and a favourable specimen of this class of
+civic functionaries. He was a stout, tall man; and, dressed in his "knee
+breeks and buckles, wi' the red-necked coat, and the cocked hat," he
+considered himself of no ordinary importance. He had a most thorough
+contempt for grammar, and looked upon the Lord Provost as the greatest
+functionary in the world. He delighted to be called "the Provost's
+right-hand man." Archie is still well remembered by many of the
+inhabitants of Edinburgh, as he was quite a character in the city. In
+dealing with a prisoner, Archie used to impress him with the idea that
+he could do great things for him by merely speaking to "his honour the
+Provost;" and when locking a prisoner up in the Tolbooth, he would say
+sometimes--"There, my lad, I cannot do nothing more for you!" He took
+care to give his friends from the Highlands a magnificent notion of his
+great personal consequence, which, of course, they aggrandised when they
+returned to the hills.
+
+[125] A byeword for a regimental firelock.
+
+[126] A favourite fowling-piece, alluded to in Bendourain, and
+elsewhere.
+
+
+
+
+JOHN MACODRUM.
+
+
+Jan Macodrum, the Bard of Uist, was patronised by an eminent judge of
+merit, Sir James Macdonald of Skye,--of whom, after a distinguished
+career at Oxford, such expectations were formed, that on his premature
+death at Rome he was lamented as the Marcellus of Scotland.
+
+Macodrum's name is cited in the Ossianic controversy, upon Sir James's
+report, as a person whose mind was stored with Ossianic poetry, of which
+Macpherson gave to the world the far-famed specimens. A humorous story
+is told of Macodrum (who was a noted humorist) having trifled a little
+with the translator when he applied for a sample of the old Fingalian,
+in the words, "Hast thou got anything of, or on, (equivalent in Gaelic
+to _hast thou anything to get of_) the Fingalian heroes?" "If I have,"
+quoth Macodrum, "I fear it is now irrecoverable."
+
+Macodrum, whose real patronymic is understood to have been Macdonald,
+lived to lament his patron in elegiac strains--a fact that brings the
+time in which he flourished down to 1766.
+
+His poem entitled the "Song of Age," is admired by his countrymen for
+its rapid succession of images (a little too mixed or abrupt on some
+occasions), its descriptive power, and its neatness and flow of
+versification.
+
+
+
+
+ORAN NA H-AOIS,
+
+THE SONG OF AGE.
+
+
+ Should my numbers essay to enliven a lay,
+ The notes would betray the languor of woe;
+ My heart is o'erthrown, like the rush of the stone
+ That, unfix'd from its throne, seeks the valley below.
+ The _veteran of war_, that knows not to spare,
+ And offers us ne'er the respite of peace,
+ Resistless comes on, and we yield with a groan,
+ For under the sun is no hope of release.
+ 'Tis a sadness I ween, how the glow and the sheen
+ Of the rosiest mien from their glory subside;
+ How hurries the hour on our race, that shall lower
+ The arm of our power, and the step of our pride.
+ As scatter and fail, on the wing of the gale,
+ The mist of the vale, and the cloud of the sky,
+ So, dissolving our bliss, comes the hour of distress,
+ Old age, with that face of aversion to joy.
+ Oh! heavy of head, and silent as lead,
+ And unbreathed as the dead, is the person of Age;
+ Not a joint, not a nerve--so prostrate their verve--
+ In the contest shall serve, or the feat to engage.
+ To leap with the best, or the billow to breast,
+ Or the race prize to wrest, were but effort in vain;
+ On the message of death pours an Egypt of wrath,[127]
+ The fever's hot breath, the dart-shot of pain.
+ Ah, desolate eld! the wretch that is held
+ By thy grapple, must yield thee his dearest supplies;
+ The friends of our love at thy call must remove,--
+ What boots how they strove from thy bands to arise?
+ They leave us, deplore as it wills us,--our store,
+ Our strength at the core, and our vigour of mind;
+ Remembrance forsakes us, distraction o'ertakes us,
+ Every love that awakes us, we leave it behind.
+ Thou spoiler of grace, that changest the face
+ To hasten its race on the route to the tomb,
+ To whom nothing is dear, unaffection'd the ear,
+ Emotion is sere, and expression is dumb;
+ Of spirit how void, thy passions how cloy'd,
+ Thy pith how destroy'd, and thy pleasure how gone!
+ To the pang of thy cries not an echo replies,
+ Even sympathy dies--and thy helper is none.
+ We see thee how stripp'd of each bloom that equipp'd
+ Thy flourish, till nipp'd the winter thy rose;
+ Till the spoiler made bare the scalp of the hair,
+ And the ivory[128] tare from its sockets' repose.
+ Thy skinny, thy cold, thy visageless mould,
+ Its disgust is untold, and its surface is dim;
+ What a signal of wrack is the wrinkle's dull track,
+ And the bend of the back, and the limp of the limb!
+ Thou leper of fear--thou niggard of cheer--
+ Where glory is dear, shall thy welcome be found?
+ Thou contempt of the brave--oh, rather the grave,
+ Than to pine as the slave that thy fetters have bound.
+ Like the dusk of the day is thy colour of gray,
+ Thou foe of the lay, and thou phantom of gloom;
+ Thou bane of delight--when thy shivering plight,
+ And thy grizzle of white,[129] and thy crippleness, come
+ To beg at the door; ah, woe for the poor,
+ And the greeting unsure that grudges their bread;
+ All unwelcome they call--from the hut to the hall
+ The confession of all is, "_'Tis time he were dead_!"
+
+The picturesque portion of the description here terminates. With respect
+to the moral and religious application, it is but just to the poet to
+say, that before the close he appeals in pathetic terms to the young,
+warning them not to boast of their strength, or to abuse it; and that he
+concludes his lay with the sentiment, that whatever may be the ills of
+"age," there are worse that await an unrepenting death, and a suffering
+eternity.
+
+
+[127] Alluding to the plagues.
+
+[128] The teeth.
+
+[129] _Gaelic_--Matted, rough, gray beard.
+
+
+
+
+NORMAN MACLEOD;
+
+OR, TORMAID BAN.
+
+
+Single-speech Hamilton may be said to have had his _marrow_ in a
+Highland bard, nearly his contemporary, whose one effort was attended
+with more lasting popularity than the sole oration of that celebrated
+person. The clan song of the Mackenzies is the composition in question,
+and its author is now ascertained to have been a gentleman, or farmer of
+the better class, of the name of Norman Macleod, a native of Assynt[130]
+in Sutherland. The most memorable particular known of this person,
+besides the production of his poetic effort, is his having been the
+father of a Glasgow professor,[131] whom we remember occupying the chair
+of Church History in the university in very advanced age, about 1814,
+assisted by a helper and successor; and of another son, who was the
+respected minister of Rogart till towards the end of last century.
+
+The date of "Caberfae" is not exactly ascertained. It was composed
+during the exile of Lord Seaforth, but, we imagine, before the '45, in
+which he did not take part, and while Macshimei (Lord Lovat) still
+passed for a Whig. In Mackenzie's excellent collection (p. 361), a
+later date is assigned to the production.
+
+The Seaforth tenantry, who (after the manner of the clans) privately
+supported their chief in his exile, appear to have been much aggrieved
+by some proceedings of the loyalist, Monro of Fowlis, who, along with
+his neighbour of Culloden and Lovat, were probably acting under
+government commission, in which the interests of the crown were seconded
+by personal or family antagonism. The loyal family of Sutherland, who
+seem by grant or lease to have had an interest in the estates, also come
+in for a share of the bard's resentment.
+
+All this forms the subject of "Caberfae," which, without having much
+meaning or poetry, served, like the celebrated "Lillibulero," to animate
+armies, and inflame party spirit to a degree that can scarcely be
+imagined. The repetition of "the Staghead, when rises his cabar on,"
+which concludes every strophe, is enough at any time to bring a
+Mackenzie to his feet, or into the forefront of battle,--being a simple
+allusion to the Mackenzie crest, allegorised into an emblem of the stag
+at bay, or ready in his ire to push at his assailant. The cabar is the
+horn, or, rather, the "tine of the first-head,"--no ignoble emblem,
+certainly, of clannish fury and impetuosity. The difficulty of the
+measure compels us to the use of certain metrical freedoms, and also of
+some Gaelic words, for which is craved the reader's indulgence.
+
+
+[130] In Stat. Ac. said to be of Lochbroom, vol. xiv., p. 79.
+
+[131] Hugh Macleod.
+
+
+
+
+CABERFAE,
+
+THE STAGHEAD.[132]
+
+
+ A health to Caberfae,
+ A toast, and a cheery one,
+ That soon return he may,
+ Though long and far his tarrying.
+ The death of shame befal me,
+ Be riven off my eididh[133] too,
+ But my fancy hears thy call--we
+ Should all be _up and ready, O_!
+ 'Tis I have seen thy weapon keen,
+ Thine arm, inaction scorning,
+ Assign their dues to the Munroes,
+ Their _welcome_ in the morning.
+ Nor stood the Cátach[134] to his bratach[135]
+ For dread of a belabouring,
+ When up gets the Staghead,
+ And raises his cabar on.
+
+ Woe to the man of Folais,[136]
+ When he to fight must challenge thee;
+ Nor better fared the Roses[137]
+ That lent _Monro_ their valiancy.
+ The Granndach[138] and the Frazer,[139]
+ They tarried not the melee in;
+ Fled Forbes,[140] in dismay, sir,
+ Culloden-wards, undallying.
+ Away they ran, while firm remain,
+ Not one to three, retiring so,
+ The earl,[141] the craven, took to haven,
+ Scarce a pistol firing, O!
+ Mackay[142] of Spoils, his heart recoils,
+ He cries in haste his cabul[143] on,
+ He flies--as soars the Staghead,
+ And raises his cabar on.
+
+ Like feather'd creatures flying,
+ That in the hill-mist shiver,
+ In haste for refuge hieing,
+ To the meadow or the river--
+ So, port they sought, and took to boat,
+ Bewailing what had happened them,
+ To trust was rash, the missing flash
+ Of the rusty guns that weapon'd them.
+ The coracle of many a skull,
+ The relics of his neighbour, on,
+ Monro retreats[144]--for Staghead
+ Is raising his cabar on.
+
+ I own my expectation,--
+ 'Tis this has roused my apathy,
+ That He who rules creation
+ May change the dismal hap of thee,
+ And hasten to restore thee
+ In safety from thy danger,
+ To thine own, in joy and glory,
+ To save us from the stranger.
+ With princely grace to give redress,
+ Nor a taunt to suffer back again;
+ The fell Monro has felt thy blow,
+ And should he dare attack again,
+ Then as he flew, he 'll run anew,
+ The flames to quench he 'll labour on,
+ Of castle fired--when Staghead
+ High raises his cabar on!
+
+ I 've seen thee o'er the lowly,
+ A gracious chieftain ever,
+ The Cátach[145] self below thee,
+ And the Gallach[145] cower'd for cover;
+ But ever more their striving,
+ When claim'd respect thine eye,
+ Thy scourge corrected, driving
+ To other lands to fly.
+ Thy loyal crew of clansmen true,
+ No panic fear shall turn them,
+ With steel-cap, blade, and _skene_ array'd,
+ Their banning foes they spurn them.
+ Clan-Shimei[146] then may dare them,
+ They 'll fly, had each a sabre on,
+ Needs but a look--when Staghead
+ Once raises his cabar on.
+
+ Mounts not the wing a fouler thing,
+ Than thy vaunted crest, the eagle,[147] O!
+ Inglorious chief! to boast the thief,
+ That forays with the beagle, O!
+ For shame! preferr'd that ravening bird![148]
+ My song shall raise the mountain-deer;
+ The prey he scorns, the carcase spurns,
+ He loves the cress, the fountain cheer.
+ His lodge is in the forest;--
+ While carion-flesh enticing
+ Thy greedy maw, thou buriest
+ Thou kite of prey! thy claws in
+ The putrid corse of famish'd horse,
+ The greedy hound a-striving
+ To rival thee in gluttony,
+ Both at the bowels riving.
+ Thou called the _true bird_![149]--Never,
+ Thou foster child of evil,[150] ha!
+ How ill match with thy feather[151]
+ The talons[152] of thy devilry!
+ But when thy foray preys on
+ Our harmless flocks, so dastardly,
+ How often has the shepherd
+ With trusty baton master'd thee;
+ Well in thy fright hast timed thy flight,
+ Else, not alone, belabouring,
+ He 'd gored thee with the Staghead,
+ Up-raising his cabar on.[153]
+
+ Woe worth the world, deceiver--
+ So false, so fair of seeming!
+ We 've seen the noble Siphort[154]
+ With all his war-notes[155] screaming;
+ When not a chief in Albain,
+ Mac-Ailein's[156] self though backing him,
+ Could face his frown--as Staghead
+ Arose with his cabar on.
+
+ To join thy might, when call'd the right,
+ A gallant army springing on,
+ Would rise, from Assint to the crags
+ Of Scalpa, rescue bringing on.
+ Each man upon, true-flinted gun,
+ Steel glaive, and trusty dagaichean;
+ With the Island Lord of Sleitè,[157]
+ When up rose thy cabar on!
+
+ Came too the men of Muideart,[158]
+ While stream'd their flag its bravery;
+ Their gleaming weapons, blue-dyed,[159]
+ That havock'd on the cavalry.
+ Macalister,[160] Mackinnon,
+ With many a flashing trigger there,
+ The foemen rushing in on,
+ Resistless shew'd their vigour there.
+ May fortune free thee--may we see thee
+ Again in Bràun,[161] the turreted,
+ Girt with thy clan! And not a man
+ But will get the scorn he merited.
+ Then wine will play, and usquebae
+ From flaggons, and from badalan,[162]
+ And pipers scream--when Staghead
+ High raises his cabar on.
+
+
+[132] Applicable both to the chief and his crest.
+
+[133] Literally, "_the dress_," (pron. _ēidi_,) _i.e._, Highland garb,
+not yet abolished.
+
+[134] Sutherlanders, or Caithness men.
+
+[135] Banner.
+
+[136] Monro of Fowlis.
+
+[137] Rose of Kilravock and his clan.
+
+[138] Grant of Grant.
+
+[139] Lovat.
+
+[140] Of Culloden.
+
+[141] Of Sutherland.
+
+[142] Lord Reay.
+
+[143] Steed. The Celtic "Cabul" and Latin "Caballus" correspond.
+
+[144] Here the bard is a little obscure; but he seems to mean that the
+Monroes made their escape over the skulls of the dead, as if they were
+boats or coracles by which to cross or get away from danger.
+
+[145] The Caithness and Sutherland men.
+
+[146] Lovat's men.
+
+[147] The eagle being the crest of the Monro.
+
+[148] The _eagle_; the crest of Monro of Fowlis. The filthy and cruel
+habits of this predatory bird are here contrasted with the
+forest-manners of the stag in a singular specimen of clan vituperation.
+
+[149] _Fioreun_, the name of the eagle, signifying true bird.
+
+[150] Literally--Accursed by Moses, or the Mosaic law.
+
+[151] The single eagle's feather crested the chieftain's bonnet.
+
+[152] Literally--If thy feather is noble, thy claws are (of) the devil!
+
+[153] This picture of the eagle is not much for edification--nor another
+hit at the lion of the Macdonalds, then at feud with the Seaforth. The
+former is abridged, and the latter omitted; as also a lively detail of
+the _creagh_, in which the Monroes are reproached with their spoilages
+of cheese, butter, and winter-mart beef.
+
+[154] Seaforth.
+
+[155] Literally--Bagpipes.
+
+[156] Macallammore: Argyle.
+
+[157] Macdonald of Sleat.
+
+[158] Clanranald's country.
+
+[159] Literally--Of blue steel.
+
+[160] Mac-Mhic-Alister, the patronymic of Glengary.
+
+[161] Castle Brahan, Seaforth's seat.
+
+[162] _Gaelic_--Barrels of liquor, properly _bùidealan_.
+
+
+END OF VOL. I.
+
+
+
+
+GLOSSARY.
+
+
+_A-low_, on fire.
+
+_Ava_, at all.
+
+_Ayont_, beyond.
+
+_Ban_, swear.
+
+_Bang_, to change place hastily.
+
+_Bangster_, a violent person.
+
+_Bawks_, the cross-beams of a roof.
+
+_Bein_, good, suitable.
+
+_Bicker_, a dish for holding liquor.
+
+_Boddle_, an old Scottish coin--value the third of a penny.
+
+_Boggie_, a marsh.
+
+_Brag_, vaunt.
+
+_Braw_, gaily dressed.
+
+_Busk_, to attire oneself.
+
+_Buss_, bush.
+
+_Cantie_, cheerful.
+
+_Castocks_, the pith of stalks of cabbages.
+
+_Caw_, to drive.
+
+_Chat_, talk.
+
+_Chuckies_, chickens.
+
+_Chuffy_, clownish.
+
+_Clavering_, talking idly.
+
+_Cleeding_, clothing.
+
+_Clishmaclavers_, idle talk.
+
+_Clocksie_, vivacious.
+
+_Cock-up_, a hat or cap turned up before.
+
+_Coft_, purchased.
+
+_Cogie_, a hollow wooden vessel.
+
+_Coozy_, warm.
+
+_Cosie_, snug, comfortable.
+
+_Cowt_, cattle.
+
+_Creel_, a basket.
+
+_Croft_, a tenement of land.
+
+_Croon_, to make a plaintive sound.
+
+_Crouse_, brisk.
+
+_Crusie_, a small lamp.
+
+_Cuddle_, embrace.
+
+_Curpin_, the crupper of a saddle.
+
+_Cuttie_, a short pipe.
+
+_Daff_, sport.
+
+_Daut_, caress.
+
+_Daud_, blow.
+
+_Daunder_, to walk thoughtlessly.
+
+_Dautit_, fondled.
+
+_Dirdum_, tumult.
+
+_Disjasket_, having appearance of decay.
+
+_Doited_, stupid.
+
+_Dool_, grief.
+
+_Dorty_, a foolish urchin.
+
+_Douf_, dull.
+
+_Dowie_, sad.
+
+_Draigle_, draggle.
+
+_Dringing_, delaying.
+
+_Drone_, sound of bagpipes.
+
+_Dung_, defeated.
+
+_Eerie_, timorous.
+
+_Eident_, wary.
+
+_Elf_, a puny creature.
+
+_Fashious_, troublesome.
+
+_Fauld_, a fold.
+
+_Ferlies_, remarkable things.
+
+_Fleyt_, frightened.
+
+_Fogie_, a stupid old person.
+
+_Foumart_, a pole-cat.
+
+_Fraise_, flattery.
+
+_Frumpish_, crumpled.
+
+_Gabbit_, a person prone to idle talk.
+
+_Gart_, compelled.
+
+_Giggle_, unmeaning laughter.
+
+_Gin_, if.
+
+_Girse_, grass.
+
+_Glaikit_, stupid.
+
+_Glamrie_, the power of enchantment.
+
+_Glower_, stare.
+
+_Grusome_, frightful.
+
+_Grist_, the fee paid at the mill for grinding.
+
+_Gutchir_, grandfather.
+
+_Gutters_, mud, wet dust.
+
+_Hain_, save, preserve.
+
+_Hap_, cover.
+
+_Havens_, endowments.
+
+_Henny_, honey, a familiar term of affection among the peasantry.
+
+_Hinkum_, that which is put up in hanks or balls, as thread.
+
+_Howe_, a hollow.
+
+_Hyne_, hence.
+
+_Kail_, cabbages, colewort.
+
+_Kebbuck_, a cheese.
+
+_Keil_, red clay, used for marking.
+
+_Ken_, know.
+
+_Kenspeckle_, having a singular appearance.
+
+_Leal_, honest, faithful.
+
+_Leese me_, pleased am I with.
+
+_Lyart_, gray-haired.
+
+_Loof_, the palm of the hand.
+
+_Lowin_, warm.
+
+_Lucky, A_, an old woman.
+
+_Luntin_, smoking.
+
+_Mailin_, a farm.
+
+_Maukin_, a hare.
+
+_Mirk_, dark.
+
+_Mishanter_, a sorry scrape.
+
+_Mittens_, gloves without fingers.
+
+_Mouldie_, crumbling.
+
+_Mouls_, the earth of the grave.
+
+_Mows_, easy.
+
+_Mutch_, a woman's cap.
+
+_Neip_, a turnip.
+
+_Neive_, the closed fist.
+
+_Nippen_, carried off surreptitiously.
+
+_Ouk_, week.
+
+_Owerlay_, a cravat.
+
+_Perk_, push.
+
+_Perlins_, women's ornaments.
+
+_Poortith_, poverty.
+
+_Preed_, tasted.
+
+_Randy_, a scold, a shrew.
+
+_Rate_, slander.
+
+_Rink_, run about.
+
+_Routh_, abundance.
+
+_Rummulgumshin_, common sense.
+
+_Sabbit_, sobbed.
+
+_Scant_, scarce.
+
+_Scartle_, a graip or fork.
+
+_Scrimply_, barely.
+
+_Scug_, shelter.
+
+_Seer_, sure.
+
+_Shaw_, a plantation.
+
+_Shiel_, a sheep shed.
+
+_Skeigh_, timorous.
+
+_Skiffin_, moving lightly.
+
+_Smeddum_, sagacity.
+
+_Snooded_, the hair bound up.
+
+_Spaewife,_ a female fortune-teller.
+
+_Spence_, a larder.
+
+_Steenies_, guineas.
+
+_Sud_, should.
+
+_Sumph_, a soft person.
+
+_Swankie_, a clever young fellow.
+
+_Sweir_, indolent.
+
+_Syne_, then.
+
+_Tabbit_, benumbed.
+
+_Tapsle-teerie_, topsyturvy.
+
+_Ted_, toad.
+
+_Thairms_, strings.
+
+_Thowless_, thoughtless.
+
+_Thraw_, twist.
+
+_Tint_, lost.
+
+_Tirl_, to uncover.
+
+_Tocher_, dowry.
+
+_Toss_, toast.
+
+_Towmond_, a year.
+
+_Trig_, neat, trim.
+
+_Tryst_, appointment.
+
+_Tyced_, made diversion.
+
+_Vauntit_, boasted.
+
+_Weel_, will.
+
+_Whigmigmorum_, political ranting.
+
+_Wile_, choice.
+
+_Wist_, wished.
+
+_Wizen_, the throat.
+
+_Wow_, vow.
+
+
+EDINBURGH: PRINTED BY BALLANTYNE AND COMPANY.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Modern Scottish Minstrel , Volume
+I., by Various
+
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+Project Gutenberg's The Modern Scottish Minstrel , Volume I., by Various
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Modern Scottish Minstrel , Volume I.
+ The Songs of Scotland of the past half century
+
+Author: Various
+
+Editor: Charles Rogers
+
+Release Date: May 15, 2006 [EBook #18396]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MODERN SCOTTISH MINSTREL ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Ted Garvin, Susan Skinner and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration:
+
+THE
+
+MODERN SCOTTISH MINSTREL;
+
+BY
+
+CHARLES ROGERS, LL.D.
+F.S.A. SCOT.
+
+VOL. I.
+
+
+THE AULD HOUSE O' GASK.
+_THE BIRTH PLACE OF LADY NAIRN._
+_(Copied by permission of Patterson & Sons)_
+
+EDINBURGH:
+ADAM & CHARLES BLACK, NORTH BRIDGE,
+BOOKSELLERS AND PUBLISHERS TO THE QUEEN.]
+
+ * * * * *
+
+[Illustration:
+
+SIR WALTER SCOTT BART.
+
+Lithographed for the Modern Scottish Minstrel, by Schenck & McFarlane.]
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+
+
+THE
+
+MODERN SCOTTISH MINSTREL;
+
+OR,
+
+THE SONGS OF SCOTLAND OF THE
+PAST HALF CENTURY.
+
+WITH
+
+Memoirs of the Poets,
+
+AND
+
+SKETCHES AND SPECIMENS
+IN ENGLISH VERSE OF THE MOST CELEBRATED
+MODERN GAELIC BARDS.
+
+BY
+
+CHARLES ROGERS, LL.D.
+F.S.A. SCOT.
+
+
+IN SIX VOLUMES;
+
+VOL. I.
+
+
+EDINBURGH:
+
+ADAM & CHARLES BLACK, NORTH BRIDGE,
+BOOKSELLERS AND PUBLISHERS TO HER MAJESTY.
+
+M.DCCC.LV.
+
+
+EDINBURGH:
+PRINTED BY BALLANTYNE AND COMPANY,
+PAUL'S WORK.
+
+
+
+
+TO
+
+WILLIAM STIRLING, ESQ. OF KEIR, M.P.,
+
+AN ENLIGHTENED SENATOR, AN ACCOMPLISHED SCHOLAR, AND AN INGENIOUS POET,
+
+THIS FIRST VOLUME
+
+OF
+
+The Modern Scottish Minstrel
+
+IS,
+
+WITH HIS KIND PERMISSION, MOST RESPECTFULLY INSCRIBED,
+
+BY
+
+HIS VERY OBEDIENT, FAITHFUL SERVANT,
+
+CHARLES ROGERS.
+
+
+
+
+PREFACE.
+
+
+Scotland has probably produced a more patriotic and more extended
+minstrelsy than any other country in the world. Those Caledonian
+harp-strains, styled by Sir Walter Scott "gems of our own mountains,"
+have frequently been gathered into caskets of national song, but have
+never been stored in any complete cabinet; while no attempt has been
+made, at least on an ample scale, to adapt, by means of suitable
+metrical translations, the minstrelsy of the Gal for Lowland melody.
+The present work has been undertaken with the view of supplying these
+deficiencies, and with the further design of extending the fame of those
+cultivators of Scottish song--hitherto partially obscured by untoward
+circumstances, or on account of their own diffidence--and of affording a
+stimulus towards the future cultivation of national poetry.
+
+The plan of the work is distinct from that of every previous collection
+of Scottish song--the more esteemed lyrical compositions of the various
+bards being printed along with the memoirs of the respective authors,
+while the names of the poets have been arranged in chronological order.
+Those have been considered as _modern_ whose lives extend into the past
+half-century; and the whole of these have consequently been included in
+the work. Several Highland bards who died a short period before the
+commencement of the century have, however, been introduced. Of all the
+Scottish poets, whether lyrical or otherwise, who survived the period
+indicated, biographical sketches will be supplied in the course of the
+publication, together with memoirs of the principal modern collectors,
+composers and vocalists. The memoirs, so far as is practicable, will be
+prepared from original materials, of which the Editor, after a very
+extensive correspondence, has obtained a supply more ample and more
+interesting than, he flatters himself, has ever been attained by any
+collector of northern minstrelsy. The work will extend to six volumes,
+each of the subsequent volumes being accompanied by a dissertation on a
+distinct department of Scottish poetry and song. Each volume will be
+illustrated with two elegant engravings. In the course of the work, many
+original compositions will be presented, recovered from the MSS. of the
+deceased poets, or contributed by distinguished living bards.
+
+For the department of the "Modern Gaelic Minstrelsy," the Editor has
+obtained the assistance of a learned friend, intimately familiar with
+the language and poetry of the Highlands. To this esteemed co-adjutor
+the reader is indebted for the revisal of the Gaelic department of this
+work, as well as for the following prefatory observations on the
+subject:--
+
+ "Among the intelligent natives of the Highlands, it is well known
+ that the Gaelic language contains a quantity of poetry, which, how
+ difficult soever to transfuse into other tongues and idioms, never
+ fails to touch the heart, and excite enthusiastic feelings. The
+ plan of 'The Modern Scottish Minstrel' restricts us to a period
+ less favourable to the inspirations of the Celtic muse than remoter
+ times. If it is asked, What could be gained by recurring to a more
+ distant period? or what this unlettered people have really to shew
+ for their bardic pretensions? we answer, that there is extant a
+ large and genuine collection of Highland minstrelsy, ranging over a
+ long exciting period, from the days of Harlaw to the expedition of
+ Charles Edward. The 'Prosnachadh Catha,' or battle-song, that led
+ on the raid of Donald the Islander on the Garioch, is still sung;
+ the 'Woes of the Children of the Mist' are yet rehearsed in the
+ ears of their children in the most plaintive measures. Innerlochy
+ and Killiecrankie have their appropriate melodies; Glencoe has its
+ dirge; both the exiled Jameses have their pan and their lament;
+ Charles Edward his welcome and his wail;--all in strains so varied,
+ and with imagery so copious, that their repetition is continually
+ called for, and their interest untiring.
+
+ "All that we have to offer belongs to recent times; but we cannot
+ aver that the merit of the verses is inferior. The interest of the
+ subjects is certainly immeasurably less; but, perhaps, not less
+ propitious to the lilts and the luinneags, in which, as in her
+ music and imitative dancing, the Highland border has found her best
+ Lowland acceptation.
+
+ "We are not aware that we need except any piece, out of the more
+ ancient class, that seems not to admit of being rivalled by some of
+ the compositions of Duncan Ban (Macintyre), Rob Donn, and a few
+ others that come into our own series, if we exclude the pathetic
+ 'Old Bard's Wish,' 'The Song of the Owl,' and, perhaps, Ian Lom's
+ 'Innerlochy.'
+
+ "But, while this may be so far satisfactory to our readers, we are
+ under the necessity of claiming their charitable forbearance for
+ the strangers of the mountain whom we are to introduce to their
+ acquaintance. The language, and, in some respects, the imagery and
+ versification, are as foreign to the usages of the Anglo-Saxon as
+ so many samples of Orientalism. The transfusion of the Greek and
+ Latin choral metres is a light effort to the difficulty of
+ imitating the rhythm, or representing the peculiar vein of these
+ song-enamoured mountaineers. Those who know how a favourite ode of
+ Horace, or a lay of Catullus, is made to look, except in mere
+ paraphrase, must not talk of the poorness or triteness of the
+ Highlander's verses, till they are enabled to do them justice by a
+ knowledge of the language. We disdain any attempt to make those
+ bards sing in the mere English taste, even if we could so translate
+ them as to make them speak or sing better than they do. The fear of
+ his sarcasms prevented Dr Johnson from hearing one literal version
+ during his whole sojourn in the Highlands. Sir Walter Scott wished
+ that somebody might have the manliness to recover Highland poetry
+ from the mystification of paraphrase or imposture, and to present
+ it genuine to the English reader. In that spirit we promise to
+ execute our task; and we shall rejoice if even a very moderate
+ degree of success should attend our endeavours to obtain for the
+ sister muse some share of that popularity to which we believe her
+ entitled."
+
+In respect of the present volume of "The Modern Scottish Minstrel," the
+Editor has to congratulate himself on his being enabled to present, for
+the first time in a popular form, the more esteemed lays of Carolina,
+Baroness Nairn, author of "The Laird o' Cockpen," "The Land o' the
+Leal," and a greater number of popular lyrics than any other Caledonian
+bard, Burns alone excepted. Several pieces of this accomplished lady,
+not previously published, have been introduced, through the kindness of
+her surviving friends. The memoir of the Baroness has been prepared from
+original documents entrusted to the Editor. For permission to engrave
+"The Auld House o' Gask," Lady Nairn's birth-place, the Editor's thanks
+are due to Mr Paterson, music-seller in Edinburgh.
+
+While the present volume of "The Modern Scottish Minstrel" is offered to
+the public with becoming diffidence, the Editor is not without a faint
+ray of hope that, if health and sufficient leisure are afforded him, the
+present publication may be found the most ample and satisfactory
+repository of national song which has at any period been offered to the
+public.
+
+ ARGYLE HOUSE, STIRLING,
+ _April 18, 1855._
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS.
+
+ PAGE
+JOHN SKINNER, 1
+ Tullochgorum, 11
+ John o' Badenyon, 13
+ The ewie wi' the crookit horn, 17
+ O! why should old age so much wound us? 20
+ Still in the wrong, 22
+ Lizzy Liberty, 24
+ The stipendless parson, 28
+ The man of Ross, 31
+ A song on the times, 33
+
+WILLIAM CAMERON, 35
+ As o'er the Highland hills I hied, 37
+
+MRS JOHN HUNTER, 39
+ The Indian death-song, 41
+ My mother bids me bind my hair, 41
+ The flowers of the forest, 42
+ The season comes when first we met, 43
+ Oh, tuneful voice! I still deplore, 44
+ Dear to my heart as life's warm stream, 44
+ The lot of thousands, 45
+
+ALEXANDER, DUKE OF GORDON, 46
+ Cauld kail in Aberdeen, 48
+
+MRS GRANT OF CARRON, 50
+ Roy's wife of Aldivalloch, 52
+
+ROBERT COUPER, M.D., 53
+ Kinrara, 55
+ The sheeling, 55
+ The ewe-bughts, Marion, 56
+
+LADY ANNE BARNARD, 58
+ Auld Robin Gray, 64
+ " " Part II., 65
+ Why tarries my love? 68
+
+JOHN TAIT, 70
+ The banks of the Dee, 72
+
+HECTOR MACNEILL, 73
+ Mary of Castlecary, 82
+ My boy, Tammy, 83
+ Oh, tell me how for to woo, 85
+ Lassie wi' the gowden hair, 87
+ Come under my plaidie, 89
+ I lo'ed ne'er a laddie but ane, 90
+ Donald and Flora, 92
+ My luve's in Germany, 95
+ Dinna think, bonnie lassie, 96
+
+MRS GRANT OF LAGGAN, 99
+ Oh, where, tell me where? 104
+ Oh, my love, leave me not, 106
+
+JOHN MAYNE, 107
+ Logan braes, 110
+ Helen of Kirkconnel, 111
+ The winter sat lang, 113
+ My Johnnie, 114
+ The troops were embarked, 115
+
+JOHN HAMILTON, 117
+ The rantin' Highlandman, 118
+ Up in the mornin' early, 119
+ Go to Berwick, Johnnie, 121
+ Miss Forbes' farewell to Banff, 121
+ Tell me, Jessie, tell me why? 122
+ The hawthorn, 123
+ Oh, blaw, ye westlin' winds! 124
+
+JOANNA BAILLIE, 126
+ The maid of Llanwellyn, 132
+ Good night, good night! 133
+ Though richer swains thy love pursue, 134
+ Poverty parts good companie, 134
+ Fy, let us a' to the wedding, 136
+ Hooly and fairly, 139
+ The weary pund o' tow, 141
+ The wee pickle tow, 142
+ The gowan glitters on the sward, 143
+ Saw ye Johnnie comin'? 145
+ It fell on a morning, 146
+ Woo'd, and married, and a', 148
+
+WILLIAM DUDGEON, 151
+ Up among yon cliffy rocks, 152
+
+WILLIAM REID, 153
+ The lea rig, 154
+ John Anderson, my jo (a continuation), 155
+ Fair, modest flower, 157
+ Kate o' Gowrie, 157
+ Upon the banks o' flowing Clyde, 159
+
+ALEXANDER CAMPBELL, 161
+ Now winter's wind sweeps, 165
+ The hawk whoops on high, 166
+
+MRS DUGALD STEWART, 167
+ The tears I shed must ever fall, 168
+ Returning spring, with gladsome ray, 169
+
+ALEXANDER WILSON, 172
+ Connel and Flora, 179
+ Matilda, 179
+ Auchtertool, 182
+
+CAROLINA, BARONESS NAIRN, 184
+ The ploughman, 194
+ Caller herrin', 195
+ The land o' the leal, 196
+ The Laird o' Cockpen, 198
+ Her home she is leaving, 200
+ The bonniest lass in a' the warld, 201
+ My ain kind dearie, O! 202
+ He 's lifeless amang the rude billows, 202
+ Joy of my earliest days, 203
+ Oh, weel's me on my ain man, 204
+ Kind Robin lo'es me 205
+ Kitty Reid's house, 205
+ The robin's nest, 206
+ Saw ye nae my Peggy? 208
+ Gude nicht, and joy be wi' ye a'! 209
+ Cauld kail in Aberdeen, 210
+ He 's ower the hills that I lo'e weel, 211
+ The lass o' Gowrie, 213
+ There grows a bonnie brier bush, 215
+ John Tod, 216
+ Will ye no come back again? 218
+ Jamie the laird, 219
+ Songs of my native land, 220
+ Castell Gloom, 221
+ Bonnie Gascon Ha', 223
+ The auld house, 224
+ The hundred pipers, 226
+ The women are a' gane wud, 227
+ Jeanie Deans, 228
+ The heiress, 230
+ The mitherless lammie, 231
+ The attainted Scottish nobles, 232
+ True love is watered aye wi' tears, 233
+ Ah, little did my mother think, 234
+ Would you be young again? 235
+ Rest is not here, 236
+ Here's to them that are gane, 237
+ Farewell, O farewell! 238
+ The dead who have died in the Lord, 239
+
+JAMES NICOL, 240
+ Blaw saftly, ye breezes, 242
+ By yon hoarse murmurin' stream, 242
+ Haluckit Meg, 244
+ My dear little lassie, 246
+
+JAMES MONTGOMERY, 247
+ "Friendship, love, and truth," 253
+ The Swiss cowherd's song in a foreign land, 254
+ German war-song, 254
+ Via Crucis, via Lucis, 255
+ Verses to a robin-redbreast, 257
+ Slavery that was, 258
+
+ANDREW SCOTT, 260
+ Rural content, or the muirland farmer, 263
+ Symon and Janet, 265
+ Coquet water, 268
+ The young maid's wish for peace, 269
+ The fiddler's widow, 271
+ Lament for the death of an Irish chief, 272
+ The departure of summer, 273
+
+SIR WALTER SCOTT, BART., 275
+ It was an English ladye bright, 289
+ Lochinvar, 290
+ Where shall the lover rest, 292
+ Soldier, rest! thy warfare o'er, 294
+ Hail to the chief who in triumph advances, 295
+ The heath this night must be my bed, 297
+ The imprisoned huntsman, 298
+ He is gone on the mountain, 299
+ A weary lot is thine, fair maid, 300
+ Allen-a-Dale, 300
+ The cypress wreath, 302
+ The cavalier, 303
+ Hunting song, 304
+ Oh, say not, my love, with that mortified air, 315
+
+ * * * * *
+
+METRICAL TRANSLATIONS FROM THE MODERN GAELIC MINSTRELSY.
+
+ROBERT MACKAY (ROB DONN), 309
+ The song of winter, 311
+ Dirge for Ian Macechan, 315
+ The song of the forsaken drover, 315
+ Isabel Mackay--the maid alone, 318
+ Evan's Elegy, 321
+
+DOUGAL BUCHANAN, 322
+ A clagionn--the skull, 326
+ Am bruadar--the dream, 330
+
+DUNCAN MACINTYRE, 334
+ Mairi bhan og (Mary, the young, the fair-haired), 335
+ Bendourain, the Otter Mount, 336
+ The bard to his musket, 347
+
+JOHN MACODRUM, 351
+ Oran na h-aois (the song of age), 352
+
+NORMAN MACLEOD (TORMAID BAN), 355
+ Caberfae, 357
+
+ * * * * *
+
+GLOSSARY, 363
+
+
+
+
+THE
+
+MODERN SCOTTISH MINSTREL
+
+
+
+
+JOHN SKINNER.
+
+
+Among those modern Scottish poets whose lives, by extending to a
+considerably distant period, render them connecting links between the
+old and recent minstrelsy of Caledonia, the first place is due to the
+Rev. John Skinner. This ingenious and learned person was born on the 3d
+of October 1721, at Balfour, in the parish of Birse, and county of
+Aberdeen. His father, who bore the same Christian name, was parochial
+schoolmaster; but two years after his son's birth, he was presented to
+the more lucrative situation of schoolmaster of Echt, a parish about
+twelve miles distant from Aberdeen. He discharged the duties of this
+latter appointment during the long incumbency of fifty years. He was
+twice married. By his first union with Mrs Jean Gillanders, the relict
+of Donald Farquharson of Balfour, was born an only child, the subject of
+this memoir. The mother dying when the child was only two years old, the
+charge of his early training depended solely on his father, who for
+several years remained a widower. The paternal duties were adequately
+performed: the son, while a mere youth, was initiated in classical
+learning, and in his thirteenth year he became a successful competitor
+for a bursary or exhibition in Marischal College, Aberdeen. At the
+University, during the usual philosophical course of four years, he
+pursued his studies with diligence and success; and he afterwards became
+an usher in the parish schools of Kemnay and Monymusk.
+
+From early youth, young Skinner had courted the Muse of his country, and
+composed verses in the Scottish dialect. When a mere stripling, he could
+repeat, which he did with enthusiasm, the long poem by James I. of
+"Christ-kirk on the Green;" he afterwards translated it into Latin
+verse; and an imitation of the same poem, entitled "The Monymusk
+Christmas Ba'ing," descriptive of the diversions attendant on the annual
+Christmas gatherings for playing the game of foot-ball at Monymusk,
+which he composed in his sixteenth year, attracting the notice of the
+lady of Sir Archibald Grant, Bart. of Monymusk, brought him the favour
+of that influential family. Though the humble usher of a parish school,
+he was honoured with the patronage of the worthy baronet and his lady,
+became an inmate of their mansion, and had the uncontrolled use of its
+library. The residence of the poet in Monymusk House indirectly conduced
+towards his forming those ecclesiastical sentiments which exercised such
+an important influence on his subsequent career. The Episcopal clergyman
+of the district was frequently a guest at the table of Sir Archibald;
+and by the arguments and persuasive conversation of this person, Mr
+Skinner was induced to enlist his sympathies in the cause of the
+Episcopal or non-juring clergy of Scotland. They bore the latter
+appellation from their refusal, during the existence of the exiled
+family of Stewart, to take the oath of allegiance to the House of
+Hanover. In 1740, on the invitation of Mr Robert Forbes, Episcopal
+minister at Leith, afterwards a bishop, Mr Skinner, in the capacity of
+private tutor to the only son of Mr Sinclair of Scolloway, proceeded to
+Zetland, where he acquired the intimate friendship of the Rev. Mr
+Hunter, the only non-juring clergyman in that remote district. There he
+remained only one year, owing to the death of the elder Mr Sinclair, and
+the removal of his pupil to pursue his studies in a less retired
+locality. He lamented the father's death in Latin, as well as in English
+verse. He left Scolloway with the best wishes of the family; and as a
+substantial proof of the goodwill of his friend Mr Hunter, he received
+in marriage the hand of his eldest daughter.
+
+Returning to Aberdeenshire, he was ordained a presbyter of the Episcopal
+Church, by Bishop Dunbar of Peterhead; and in November 1742, on the
+unanimous invitation of the people, he was appointed to the pastoral
+charge of the congregation at Longside. Uninfluenced by the soarings of
+ambition, he seems to have fixed here, at the outset, a permanent
+habitation: he rented a cottage at Linshart in the vicinity, which,
+though consisting only of a single apartment, besides the kitchen,
+sufficed for the expenditure of his limited emoluments. In every respect
+he realised Goldsmith's description of the village pastor:--
+
+ "A man he was to all the country dear,
+ And passing rich with forty pounds a-year;
+ Remote from towns he ran his godly race,
+ Nor e'er had changed, nor wish'd to change his place."
+
+Secluded, however, as were Mr Skinner's habits, and though he never had
+interfered in the political movements of the period, he did not escape
+his share in those ruthless severities which were visited upon the
+non-juring clergy subsequent to the last Rebellion. His chapel was
+destroyed by the soldiers of the barbarous Duke of Cumberland; and, on
+the plea of his having transgressed the law by preaching to more than
+four persons without subscribing the oath of allegiance, he was, during
+six months, detained a prisoner in the jail of Aberdeen.
+
+Entering on the sacred duties of the pastoral office, Mr Skinner appears
+to have checked the indulgence of his rhyming propensities. His
+subsequent poetical productions, which include the whole of his popular
+songs, were written to please his friends, or gratify the members of his
+family, and without the most distant view to publication. In 1787, he
+writes to Burns, on the subject of Scottish song:--"While I was young, I
+dabbled a good deal in these things; but on getting the black gown, I
+gave it pretty much over, till my daughters grew up, who, being all
+tolerably good singers, plagued me for words to some of their favourite
+tunes, and so extorted those effusions which have made a public
+appearance, beyond my expectations, and contrary to my intentions; at
+the same time, I hope there is nothing to be found in them
+uncharacteristic or unbecoming the cloth, which I would always wish to
+see respected." Some of Mr Skinner's best songs were composed at a
+sitting, while they seldom underwent any revision after being committed
+to paper. To the following incident, his most popular song,
+"Tullochgorum," owed its origin. In the course of a visit he was making
+to a friend in Ellon (not Cullen, as has been stated on the authority of
+Burns), a dispute arose among the guests on the subject of Whig and Tory
+politics, which, becoming somewhat too exciting for the comfort of the
+lady of the house, in order to bring it promptly to a close, she
+requested Mr Skinner to suggest appropriate words for the favourite air,
+"The Reel of Tullochgorum." Mr Skinner readily complied, and, before
+leaving the house, produced what Burns, in a letter to the author,
+characterised as "the best Scotch song ever Scotland saw." The name of
+the lady who made the request to the poet was Mrs Montgomery, and hence
+the allusion in the first stanza of the ballad:--
+
+ "Come gie 's a sang, Montgomery cried,
+ And lay your disputes all aside;
+ What signifies 't for folks to chide
+ For what was done before them?
+ Let Whig and Tory all agree," &c.
+
+Though claiming no distinction as a writer of verses, Mr Skinner did not
+conceal his ambition to excel in another department of literature. In
+1746, in his twenty-fifth year, he published a pamphlet, in defence of
+the non-juring character of his Church, entitled "A Preservative against
+Presbytery." A performance of greater effort, published in 1757, excited
+some attention, and the unqualified commendation of the learned Bishop
+Sherlock. In this production, entitled "A Dissertation on Jacob's
+Prophecy," which was intended as a supplement to a treatise on the same
+subject by Dr Sherlock, the author has established, by a critical
+examination of the original language, that the words in Jacob's prophecy
+(Gen. xlix. 10), rendered "sceptre" and "lawgiver" in the authorised
+version, ought to be translated "tribeship" and "typifier," a difference
+of interpretation which obviates some difficulties respecting the exact
+fulfilment of this remarkable prediction. In a pamphlet printed in 1767,
+Mr Skinner again vindicated the claims and authority of his Church; and
+on this occasion, against the alleged misrepresentations of Mr Norman
+Sievewright, English clergyman at Brechin, who had published a work
+unfavourable to the cause of Scottish Episcopacy. His most important
+work, "An Ecclesiastical History of Scotland, from the first appearance
+of Christianity in that kingdom," was published in the year 1788, in two
+octavo volumes. This publication, which is arranged in the form of
+letters to a friend, and dedicated, in elegant Latin verse, "Ad Filium
+et Episcopum," (to his son, and bishop), by partaking too rigidly of a
+sectarian character, did not attain any measure of success. Mr Skinner's
+other prose works were published after his death, together with a Memoir
+of the author, under the editorial care of his son, Bishop Skinner of
+Aberdeen. These consist of theological essays, in the form of "Letters
+addressed to Candidates for Holy Orders," "A Dissertation on the
+Sheckinah, or Divine Presence with the Church or People of God," and "An
+Essay towards a literal or true radical exposition of the Song of
+Songs," the whole being included in two octavo volumes, which appeared
+in 1809. A third volume was added, containing a collection of the
+author's compositions in Latin verse, and his fugitive songs and ballads
+in the Scottish dialect--the latter portion of this volume being at the
+same time published in a more compendious form, with the title,
+"Amusements of Leisure Hours; or, Poetical Pieces, chiefly in the
+Scottish dialect."
+
+Though living in constant retirement at Linshart, the reputation of the
+Longside pastor, both as a poet and a man of classical taste, became
+widely extended, and persons distinguished in the world of letters
+sought his correspondence and friendship. With Dr Gleig, afterwards
+titular Bishop of Brechin, Dr Doig of Stirling, and John Ramsay of
+Ochtertyre, he maintained an epistolary intercourse for several years.
+Dr Gleig, who edited the _Encyclopdia Britannica_, consulted Mr Skinner
+respecting various important articles contributed to that valuable
+publication. His correspondence with Doig and Ramsay was chiefly on
+their favourite topic of philology. These two learned friends visited Mr
+Skinner in the summer of 1795, and entertained him for a week at
+Peterhead. This brief period of intellectual intercourse was regarded by
+the poet as the most entirely pleasurable of his existence; and the
+impression of it on the vivid imagination of Mr Ramsay is recorded in a
+Latin eulogy on his northern correspondent, which he subsequently
+transmitted to him. A poetical epistle addressed by Mr Skinner to Robert
+Burns, in commendation of his talents, was characterized by the Ayrshire
+Bard as "the best poetical compliment he had ever received." It led to a
+regular correspondence, which was carried on with much satisfaction to
+both parties. The letters, which chiefly relate to the preparation of
+Johnson's _Musical Museum_, then in the course of publication, have been
+included in his published correspondence. Burns never saw Mr Skinner; he
+had not informed himself as to his locality during the prosecution of
+his northern tour, and had thus the mortification of ascertaining that
+he had been in his neighbourhood, without having formed his personal
+acquaintance. To Mr Skinner's son, whom he accidentally met in Aberdeen
+on his return, he expressed a deep regret for the blunder, as "he would
+have gone twenty miles out of his way to visit the author of
+'Tullochgorum.'"
+
+As a man of ingenuity, various acquirements, and agreeable manners, Mr
+Skinner was held in much estimation among his contemporaries. Whatever
+he read, with the assistance of a commonplace-book, he accurately
+remembered, and could readily turn to account; and, though his library
+was contained in a closet of five feet square, he was abundantly well
+informed on every ordinary topic of conversation. He was fond of
+controversial discussion, and wielded both argument and wit with a power
+alarming to every antagonist. Though keen in debate, he was however
+possessed of a most imperturbable suavity of temper. His conversation
+was of a playful cast, interspersed with anecdote, and free from every
+affectation of learning. As a clergyman, Mr Skinner enjoyed the esteem
+and veneration of his flock. Besides efficiently discharging his
+ministerial duties, he practised gratuitously as a physician, having
+qualified himself, by acquiring a competent acquaintance with the
+healing art at the medical classes in Marischal College. His pulpit
+duties were widely acceptable; but his discourses, though edifying and
+instructive, were more the result of the promptitude of the preacher
+than the effects of a painstaking preparation. He abandoned the aid of
+the manuscript in the pulpit, on account of the untoward occurrence of
+his notes being scattered by a startled fowl, in the early part of his
+ministry, while he was addressing his people from the door of his house,
+after the wanton destruction of his chapel.
+
+In a scene less calculated to invite poetic inspiration no votary of the
+muse had ever resided. On every side of his lonely dwelling extended a
+wild uncultivated plain; nor for miles around did any other human
+habitation relieve the monotony of this cheerless solitude. In her
+gayest moods, Nature never wore a pleasing aspect in _Long-gate_, nor
+did the distant prospect compensate for the dreary gloominess of the
+surrounding landscape. For his poetic suggestions Mr Skinner was wholly
+dependent on the singular activity of his fancy; as he derived his chief
+happiness in his communings with an attached flock, and in the endearing
+intercourse of his family. Of his children, who were somewhat numerous
+he contrived to afford the whole, both sons and daughters, a superior
+education; and he had the satisfaction, for a long period of years, to
+address one of his sons as the bishop of his diocese.
+
+The death of Mr Skinner's wife, in the year 1799, fifty-eight years
+after their marriage, was the most severe trial which he seems to have
+experienced. In a Latin elegy, he gave expression to the deep sense
+which he entertained of his bereavement. In 1807, his son, Bishop
+Skinner, having sustained a similar bereavement, invited his aged father
+to share the comforts of his house; and after ministering at Longside
+for the remarkably lengthened incumbency of sixty-five years, Mr Skinner
+removed to Aberdeen. But a greater change was at hand; on the 16th of
+June 1807, in less than a week after his arrival, he was suddenly seized
+with illness, and almost immediately expired. His remains were interred
+in the churchyard of Longside; and the flock to which he had so long
+ministered placed over the grave a handsome monument, bearing, on a
+marble tablet, an elegant tribute to the remembrance of his virtues and
+learning. At the residence of Bishop Skinner, he had seen his
+descendants in the fourth generation.
+
+Of Mr Skinner's songs, printed in this collection, the most popular are
+"Tullochgorum," "John o' Badenyon," and "The Ewie wi' the Crookit Horn."
+The whole are pervaded by sprightliness and good-humoured pleasantry.
+Though possessing the fault of being somewhat too lengthy, no
+song-compositions of any modern writer in Scottish verse have, with the
+exception of those of Burns, maintained a stronger hold of the Scottish
+heart, or been more commonly sung in the social circle.
+
+
+
+
+TULLOCHGORUM.
+
+
+ I.
+
+ Come gie 's a sang, Montgomery cried,
+ And lay your disputes all aside,
+ What signifies 't for folks to chide
+ For what was done before them:
+ Let Whig and Tory all agree,
+ Whig and Tory, Whig and Tory,
+ Whig and Tory all agree,
+ To drop their Whig-mig-morum;
+ Let Whig and Tory all agree
+ To spend the night wi' mirth and glee,
+ And cheerful sing alang wi' me
+ The Reel o' Tullochgorum.
+
+
+ II.
+
+ O Tullochgorum 's my delight,
+ It gars us a' in ane unite,
+ And ony sumph that keeps a spite,
+ In conscience I abhor him:
+ For blythe and cheerie we'll be a',
+ Blythe and cheerie, blythe and cheerie,
+ Blythe and cheerie we'll be a',
+ And make a happy quorum;
+ For blythe and cheerie we'll be a'
+ As lang as we hae breath to draw,
+ And dance, till we be like to fa',
+ The Reel o' Tullochgorum.
+
+
+ III.
+
+ What needs there be sae great a fraise
+ Wi' dringing dull Italian lays?
+ I wadna gie our ain Strathspeys
+ For half a hunder score o' them;
+ They're dowf and dowie at the best,
+ Dowf and dowie, dowf and dowie,
+ Dowf and dowie at the best,
+ Wi' a' their variorum;
+ They're dowf and dowie at the best,
+ Their _allegros_ and a' the rest,
+ They canna' please a Scottish taste,
+ Compared wi' Tullochgorum.
+
+
+ IV.
+
+ Let warldly worms their minds oppress
+ Wi' fears o' want and double cess,
+ And sullen sots themsells distress
+ Wi' keeping up decorum:
+ Shall we sae sour and sulky sit,
+ Sour and sulky, sour and sulky,
+ Sour and sulky shall we sit,
+ Like old philosophorum?
+ Shall we sae sour and sulky sit,
+ Wi' neither sense, nor mirth, nor wit,
+ Nor ever try to shake a fit
+ To th' Reel o' Tullochgorum?
+
+
+ V.
+
+ May choicest blessings aye attend
+ Each honest, open-hearted friend,
+ And calm and quiet be his end,
+ And a' that's good watch o'er him;
+ May peace and plenty be his lot,
+ Peace and plenty, peace and plenty,
+ Peace and plenty be his lot,
+ And dainties a great store o' them:
+ May peace and plenty be his lot,
+ Unstain'd by any vicious spot,
+ And may he never want a groat,
+ That 's fond o' Tullochgorum!
+
+
+ VI.
+
+ But for the sullen, frumpish fool,
+ That loves to be oppression's tool,
+ May envy gnaw his rotten soul,
+ And discontent devour him;
+ May dool and sorrow be his chance,
+ Dool and sorrow, dool and sorrow,
+ Dool and sorrow be his chance,
+ And nane say, Wae 's me for him!
+ May dool and sorrow be his chance,
+ Wi' a' the ills that come frae France,
+ Wha e'er he be that winna dance
+ The Reel o' Tullochgorum.
+
+
+
+
+JOHN O' BADENYON
+
+
+ I.
+
+ When first I cam to be a man
+ Of twenty years or so,
+ I thought myself a handsome youth,
+ And fain the world would know;
+ In best attire I stept abroad,
+ With spirits brisk and gay,
+ And here and there and everywhere
+ Was like a morn in May;
+ No care I had, nor fear of want,
+ But rambled up and down,
+ And for a beau I might have past
+ In country or in town;
+ I still was pleased where'er I went,
+ And when I was alone,
+ I tuned my pipe and pleased myself
+ Wi' John o' Badenyon.
+
+
+ II.
+
+ Now in the days of youthful prime
+ A mistress I must find,
+ For _love_, I heard, gave one an air
+ And e'en improved the mind:
+ On Phillis fair above the rest
+ Kind fortune fix'd my eyes,
+ Her piercing beauty struck my heart,
+ And she became my choice;
+ To Cupid now, with hearty prayer,
+ I offer'd many a vow;
+ And danced and sung, and sigh'd and swore,
+ As other lovers do;
+ But, when at last I breathed my flame,
+ I found her cold as stone;
+ I left the girl, and tuned my pipe
+ To John o' Badenyon.
+
+
+ III.
+
+ When _love_ had thus my heart beguiled
+ With foolish hopes and vain;
+ To _friendship's_ port I steer'd my course,
+ And laugh'd at lovers' pain;
+ A friend I got by lucky chance,
+ 'Twas something like divine,
+ An honest friend 's a precious gift,
+ And such a gift was mine;
+ And now whatever might betide
+ A happy man was I,
+ In any strait I knew to whom
+ I freely might apply.
+ A strait soon came: my friend I try'd;
+ He heard, and spurn'd my moan;
+ I hied me home, and tuned my pipe
+ To John o' Badenyon.
+
+
+ IV.
+
+ Methought I should be wiser next,
+ And would a _patriot_ turn,
+ Began to doat on Johnny Wilkes
+ And cry up Parson Horne.[1]
+ Their manly spirit I admired,
+ And praised their noble zeal,
+ Who had with flaming tongue and pen
+ Maintain'd the public weal;
+ But e'er a month or two had pass'd,
+ I found myself betray'd,
+ 'Twas _self_ and _party_, after all,
+ For a' the stir they made;
+ At last I saw the factious knaves
+ Insult the very throne,
+ I cursed them a', and tuned my pipe
+ To John o' Badenyon.
+
+
+ V.
+
+ What next to do I mused awhile,
+ Still hoping to succeed;
+ I pitch'd on _books_ for company,
+ And gravely tried to read:
+ I bought and borrow'd everywhere,
+ And studied night and day,
+ Nor miss'd what dean or doctor wrote
+ That happen'd in my way:
+ Philosophy I now esteem'd
+ The ornament of youth,
+ And carefully through many a page
+ I hunted after truth.
+ A thousand various schemes I tried,
+ And yet was pleased with none;
+ I threw them by, and tuned my pipe
+ To John o' Badenyon.
+
+
+ VI.
+
+ And now, ye youngsters everywhere,
+ That wish to make a show,
+ Take heed in time, nor fondly hope
+ For happiness below;
+ What you may fancy pleasure here,
+ Is but an empty name,
+ And _girls_, and _friends_, and _books_, and so,
+ You 'll find them all the same.
+ Then be advised, and warning take
+ From such a man as me;
+ I 'm neither Pope nor Cardinal,
+ Nor one of high degree;
+ You 'll meet displeasure everywhere;
+ Then do as I have done,
+ E'en tune your pipe and please yourselves
+ With John o' Badenyon.
+
+
+[1] This song was composed when Wilkes, Horne, and others, were exciting
+a commotion about liberty.
+
+
+
+
+THE EWIE WI' THE CROOKIT HORN.
+
+
+ I.
+
+ Were I but able to rehearse
+ My Ewie's praise in proper verse,
+ I 'd sound it forth as loud and fierce
+ As ever piper's drone could blaw;
+ The Ewie wi' the crookit horn,
+ Wha had kent her might hae sworn
+ Sic a Ewe was never born,
+ Hereabout nor far awa';
+ Sic a Ewe was never born,
+ Hereabout nor far awa'.
+
+
+ II.
+
+ I never needed tar nor keil
+ To mark her upo' hip or heel,
+ Her crookit horn did as weel
+ To ken her by amo' them a';
+ She never threaten'd scab nor rot,
+ But keepit aye her ain jog-trot,
+ Baith to the fauld and to the cot,
+ Was never sweir to lead nor caw;
+ Baith to the fauld and to the cot, &c.
+
+
+ III.
+
+ Cauld nor hunger never dang her,
+ Wind nor wet could never wrang her,
+ Anes she lay an ouk and langer
+ Furth aneath a wreath o' snaw:
+ Whan ither ewies lap the dyke,
+ And eat the kail, for a' the tyke,
+ My Ewie never play'd the like,
+ But tyc'd about the barn wa';
+ My Ewie never play'd the like, &c.
+
+
+ IV.
+
+ A better or a thriftier beast
+ Nae honest man could weel hae wist,
+ For, silly thing, she never mist
+ To hae ilk year a lamb or twa':
+ The first she had I gae to Jock,
+ To be to him a kind o' stock,
+ And now the laddie has a flock
+ O' mair nor thirty head ava';
+ And now the laddie has a flock, &c.
+
+
+ V.
+
+ I lookit aye at even' for her,
+ Lest mishanter should come o'er her,
+ Or the fowmart might devour her,
+ Gin the beastie bade awa;
+ My Ewie wi' the crookit horn,
+ Well deserved baith girse and corn,
+ Sic a Ewe was never born,
+ Hereabout nor far awa';
+ Sic a Ewe was never born, &c.
+
+
+ VI.
+
+ Yet last ouk, for a' my keeping,
+ (Wha can speak it without _greeting_?)
+ A villain cam' when I was sleeping,
+ Sta' my Ewie, horn, and a':
+ I sought her sair upo' the morn,
+ And down aneath a buss o' thorn
+ I got my Ewie's crookit horn,
+ But my Ewie was awa';
+ I got my Ewie's crookit horn, &c.
+
+
+ VII.
+
+ O! gin I had the loon that did it,
+ Sworn I have as well as said it,
+ Though a' the warld should forbid it,
+ I wad gie his neck a thra':
+ I never met wi' sic a turn
+ As this sin' ever I was born,
+ My Ewie, wi' the crookit horn,
+ Silly Ewie, stown awa';
+ My Ewie wi' the crookit horn, &c.
+
+
+ VIII.
+
+ O! had she died o' crook or cauld,
+ As Ewies do when they grow auld,
+ It wad na been, by mony fauld,
+ Sae sair a heart to nane o's a':
+ For a' the claith that we hae worn,
+ Frae her and her's sae aften shorn,
+ The loss o' her we could hae born,
+ Had fair strae-death ta'en her awa';
+ The loss o' her we could hae born, &c.
+
+
+ IX.
+
+ But thus, poor thing, to lose her life,
+ Aneath a bleedy villain's knife,
+ I 'm really fleyt that our guidwife
+ Will never win aboon 't ava:
+ O! a' ye bards benorth Kinghorn,
+ Call your muses up and mourn,
+ Our Ewie wi' the crookit horn
+ Stown frae 's, and fell'd and a'!
+ Our Ewie wi' the crookit horn, &c.
+
+
+
+
+O! WHY SHOULD OLD AGE SO MUCH WOUND US?
+
+TUNE--_"Dumbarton Drums."_
+
+
+ I.
+
+ O! why should old age so much wound us?[2]
+ There is nothing in it all to confound us:
+ For how happy now am I,
+ With my old wife sitting by,
+ And our bairns and our oys all around us;
+ For how happy now am I, &c.
+
+
+ II.
+
+ We began in the warld wi' naething,
+ And we 've jogg'd on, and toil'd for the ae thing;
+ We made use of what we had,
+ And our thankful hearts were glad,
+ When we got the bit meat and the claithing;
+ We made use of what we had, &c.
+
+
+ III.
+
+ We have lived all our lifetime contented,
+ Since the day we became first acquainted:
+ It 's true we 've been but poor,
+ And we are so to this hour,
+ But we never yet repined or lamented;
+ It 's true we 've been but poor, &c.
+
+
+ IV.
+
+ When we had any stock, we ne'er vauntit,
+ Nor did we hing our heads when we wantit;
+ But we always gave a share
+ Of the little we could spare,
+ When it pleased a kind Heaven to grant it;
+ But we always gave a share, &c.
+
+
+ V.
+
+ We never laid a scheme to be wealthy,
+ By means that were cunning or stealthy;
+ But we always had the bliss--
+ And what further could we wiss?--
+ To be pleased with ourselves, and be healthy;
+ But we always had the bliss, &c.
+
+
+ VI.
+
+ What though we cannot boast of our guineas?
+ We have plenty of Jockies and Jeanies;
+ And these, I 'm certain, are
+ More desirable by far
+ Than a bag full of poor yellow steinies;
+ And these, I am certain, are, &c.
+
+
+ VII.
+
+ We have seen many wonder and ferly,
+ Of changes that almost are yearly,
+ Among rich folks up and down,
+ Both in country and in town,
+ Who now live but scrimply and barely;
+ Among rich folks up and down, &c.
+
+
+ VIII.
+
+ Then why should people brag of prosperity?
+ A straiten'd life we see is no rarity;
+ Indeed, we 've been in want,
+ And our living 's been but scant,
+ Yet we never were reduced to need charity;
+ Indeed, we 've been in want, &c.
+
+
+ IX.
+
+ In this house we first came together,
+ Where we 've long been a father and mither;
+ And though not of stone and lime,
+ It will last us all our time;
+ And I hope we shall ne'er need anither;
+ And though not of stone and lime, &c.
+
+
+ X.
+
+ And when we leave this poor habitation,
+ We 'll depart with a good commendation;
+ We 'll go hand in hand, I wiss,
+ To a better house than this,
+ To make room for the next generation;
+ We 'll go hand in hand, I wiss, &c.
+
+ Then why should old age so much wound us? &c.
+
+
+[2] This tune requires O to be added at the end of each of the long
+lines, but in reading the song the O is better omitted.
+
+
+
+
+STILL IN THE WRONG.
+
+
+ I.
+
+ It has long been my fate to be thought in the _wrong_,
+ And my fate it continues to be;
+ The wise and the wealthy still make it their song,
+ And the clerk and the cottar agree.
+ There is nothing I do, and there 's nothing I say,
+ But some one or other thinks wrong;
+ And to please them I find there is no other way,
+ But do nothing, and still hold my tongue.
+
+
+ II.
+
+ Says the free-thinking Sophist, "The times are refined
+ In sense to a wondrous degree;
+ Your old-fashion'd faith does but fetter the mind,
+ And it 's _wrong_ not to seek to be free."
+ Says the sage Politician, "Your natural share
+ Of talents would raise you much higher,
+ Than thus to crawl on in your present low sphere,
+ And it 's _wrong_ in you not to aspire."
+
+
+ III.
+
+ Says the Man of the World, "Your dull stoic life
+ Is surely deserving of blame?
+ You have children to care for, as well as a wife,
+ And it 's _wrong_ not to lay up for them."
+ Says the fat Gormandiser, "To eat and to drink
+ Is the true _summum bonum_ of man:
+ Life is nothing without it, whate'er you may think,
+ And it 's _wrong_ not to live while you can."
+
+
+ IV.
+
+ Says the new-made Divine, "Your old modes we reject,
+ Nor give ourselves trouble about them:
+ It is manners and dress that procure us respect,
+ And it 's _wrong_ to look for it without them."
+ Says the grave peevish Saint, in a fit of the spleen,
+ "Ah! me, but your manners are vile:
+ A parson that 's blythe is a shame to be seen,
+ And it 's _wrong_ in you even to smile."
+
+
+ V.
+
+ Says the Clown, when I tell him to do what he ought,
+ "Sir, whatever your character be,
+ To obey you in this I will never be brought,
+ And it 's _wrong_ to be meddling with me."
+ Says my Wife, when she wants this or that for the house,
+ "Our matters to ruin must go:
+ Your reading and writing is not worth a souse,
+ And it 's _wrong_ to neglect the house so."
+
+
+ VI.
+
+ Thus all judge of me by their taste or their wit,
+ And I 'm censured by old and by young,
+ Who in one point agree, though in others they split,
+ That in something I 'm still in the _wrong_.
+ But let them say on to the end of the song,
+ It shall make no impression on me:
+ If to differ from such be to be in the _wrong_,
+ In the _wrong_ I hope always to be.
+
+
+
+
+LIZZY LIBERTY.
+
+TUNE--_"Tibbie Fowler i' the Glen."_
+
+
+ I.
+
+ There lives a lassie i' the braes,
+ And Lizzy Liberty they ca' her,
+ When she has on her Sunday's claes,
+ Ye never saw a lady brawer;
+ So a' the lads are wooing at her,
+ Courting her, but canna get her;
+ Bonny Lizzy Liberty, there 's ow'r mony wooing at her!
+
+
+ II.
+
+ Her mither ware a tabbit mutch,
+ Her father was an honest dyker,
+ She 's a black-eyed wanton witch,
+ Ye winna shaw me mony like her:
+ So a' the lads are wooing at her,
+ Courting her, but canna get her;
+ Bonny Lizzy Liberty, wow, sae mony 's wooing at her!
+
+
+ III.
+
+ A kindly lass she is, I 'm seer,
+ Has fowth o' sense and smeddum in her,
+ And nae a swankie far nor near,
+ But tries wi' a' his might to win her:
+ They 're wooing at her, fain would hae her,
+ Courting her, but canna get her;
+ Bonny Lizzy Liberty, there 's ow'r mony wooing at her!
+
+
+ IV.
+
+ For kindly though she be, nae doubt,
+ She manna thole the marriage tether,
+ But likes to rove and rink about,
+ Like Highland cowt amo' the heather:
+ Yet a' the lads are wooing at her,
+ Courting her, but canna get her;
+ Bonny Lizzy Liberty, wow, sae mony 's wooing at her.
+
+
+ V.
+
+ It 's seven year, and some guid mair,
+ Syn Dutch Mynheer made courtship till her,
+ A merchant bluff and fu' o' care,
+ Wi' chuffy cheeks, and bags o' siller;
+ So Dutch Mynheer was wooing at her,
+ Courting her, but cudna get her;
+ Bonny Lizzy Liberty has ow'r mony wooing at her.
+
+
+ VI.
+
+ Neist to him came Baltic John,
+ Stept up the brae, and leukit at her,
+ Syne wear his wa', wi' heavy moan,
+ And in a month or twa forgat her:
+ Baltic John was wooing at her,
+ Courting her, but cudna get her;
+ Filthy elf, she 's nae herself, wi' sae mony wooing at her.
+
+
+ VII.
+
+ Syne after him cam' Yankie Doodle,
+ Frae hyne ayont the muckle water;
+ Though Yankie 's nae yet worth a boddle,
+ Wi' might and main he would be at her:
+ Yankie Doodle 's wooing at her,
+ Courting her, but canna get her;
+ Bonny Lizzy Liberty, wow, sae mony 's wooing at her.
+
+
+ VIII.
+
+ Now Monkey French is in a roar,
+ And swears that nane but he sall hae her,
+ Though he sud wade through bluid and gore,
+ It 's nae the king sall keep him frae her:
+ So Monkey French is wooing at her,
+ Courting her, but canna get her;
+ Bonny Lizzy Liberty has ow'r mony wooing at her.
+
+
+ IX.
+
+ For France, nor yet her Flanders' frien',
+ Need na think that she 'll come to them;
+ They 've casten aff wi' a' their kin,
+ And grace and guid have flown frae them;
+ They 're wooing at her, fain wad hae her,
+ Courting her, but canna get her;
+ Bonny Lizzy Liberty, wow, sae mony 's wooing at her.
+
+
+ X.
+
+ A stately chiel they ca' John Bull
+ Is unco thrang and glaikit wi' her;
+ And gin he cud get a' his wull,
+ There 's nane can say what he wad gi'e her:
+ Johnny Bull is wooing at her,
+ Courting her, but canna get her;
+ Filthy Ted, she 'll never wed, as lang 's sae mony 's wooing at her.
+
+
+ XI.
+
+ Even Irish Teague, ayont Belfast,
+ Wadna care to speir about her;
+ And swears, till he sall breathe his last,
+ He 'll never happy be without her:
+ Irish Teague is wooing at her,
+ Courting her, but canna get her;
+ Bonny Lizzy Liberty has ow'r mony wooing at her.
+
+
+ XII.
+
+ But Donald Scot 's the happy lad,
+ Though a' the lave sud try to rate him;
+ Whan he steps up the brae sae glad,
+ She disna ken maist whare to set him:
+ Donald Scot is wooing at her,
+ Courting her, will maybe get her;
+ Bonny Lizzy Liberty, wow, sae mony 's wooing at her.
+
+
+ XIII.
+
+ Now, Donald, tak' a frien's advice--
+ I ken fu' weel ye fain wad hae her;
+ As ye are happy, sae be wise,
+ And ha'd ye wi' a smackie frae her:
+ Ye 're wooing at her, fain wad hae her,
+ Courting her, will maybe get her;
+ Bonny Lizzy Liberty, there 's ow'r mony wooing at her.
+
+
+ XIV.
+
+ Ye 're weel, and wat'sna, lad, they 're sayin',
+ Wi' getting leave to dwall aside her;
+ And gin ye had her a' your ain,
+ Ye might na find it mows to guide her:
+ Ye 're wooing at her, fain wad hae her,
+ Courting her, will maybe get her;
+ Cunning quean, she 's ne'er be mine, as lang 's sae mony 's wooing at her.
+
+
+
+
+THE STIPENDLESS PARSON.
+
+TUNE--_"A Cobbler there was,"_ &c.
+
+
+ I.
+
+ How happy a life does the Parson possess,
+ Who would be no greater, nor fears to be less;
+ Who depends on his book and his gown for support,
+ And derives no preferment from conclave or court!
+ Derry down, &c.
+
+
+ II.
+
+ Without glebe or manse settled on him by law,
+ No stipend to sue for, nor vic'rage to draw;
+ In discharge of his office he holds him content,
+ With a croft and a garden, for which he pays rent.
+ Derry down, &c.
+
+
+ III.
+
+ With a neat little cottage and furniture plain,
+ And a spare room to welcome a friend now and then;
+ With a good-humour'd wife in his fortune to share,
+ And ease him at all times of family care.
+ Derry down, &c.
+
+
+ IV.
+
+ With a few of the Fathers, the oldest and best,
+ And some modern extracts pick'd out from the rest;
+ With a Bible in Latin, and Hebrew, and Greek,
+ To afford him instruction each day of the week.
+ Derry down, &c.
+
+
+ V.
+
+ What children he has, if any are given,
+ He thankfully trusts to the kindness of Heaven;
+ To religion and virtue he trains them while young,
+ And with such a provision he does them no wrong.
+ Derry down, &c.
+
+
+ VI.
+
+ With labour below, and with help from above,
+ He cares for his flock, and is bless'd with their love:
+ Though his living, perhaps, in the main may be scant,
+ He is sure, while they have, that he 'll ne'er be in want.
+ Derry down, &c.
+
+
+ VII.
+
+ With no worldly projects nor hurries perplex'd,
+ He sits in his closet and studies his text;
+ And while he converses with Moses or Paul,
+ He envies not bishop, nor dean in his stall.
+ Derry down, &c.
+
+
+ VIII.
+
+ Not proud to the poor, nor a slave to the great,
+ Neither factious in church, nor pragmatic in state,
+ He keeps himself quiet within his own sphere,
+ And finds work sufficient in preaching and prayer.
+ Derry down, &c.
+
+
+ IX.
+
+ In what little dealings he 's forced to transact,
+ He determines with plainness and candour to act;
+ And the great point on which his ambition is set,
+ Is to leave at the last neither riches nor debt.
+ Derry down, &c.
+
+
+ X.
+
+ Thus calmly he steps through the valley of life,
+ Unencumber'd with wealth, and a stranger to strife;
+ On the bustlings around him unmoved he can look,
+ And at home always pleased with his wife and his book.
+ Derry down, &c.
+
+
+ XI.
+
+ And when, in old age, he drops into the grave,
+ This humble remembrance he wishes to have:
+ "By good men respected, by the evil oft tried,
+ Contented he lived, and lamented he died!"
+ Derry down, &c.
+
+
+
+
+THE MAN OF ROSS.
+
+TUNE--_"Miss Ross's Reel."_
+
+
+ I.
+
+ When fops and fools together prate,
+ O'er punch or tea, of this or that,
+ What silly poor unmeaning chat
+ Does all their talk engross!
+ A nobler theme employs my lays,
+ And thus my honest voice I raise
+ In well-deserved strains to praise
+ The worthy Man of Ross.
+
+
+ II.
+
+ His lofty soul (would it were mine!)
+ Scorns every selfish, low design,
+ And ne'er was known to repine,
+ At any earthly loss:
+ But still contented, frank, and free,
+ In every state, whate'er it be,
+ Serene and staid we always see
+ The worthy Man of Ross.
+
+
+ III.
+
+ Let misers hug their worldly store,
+ And gripe and pinch to make it more;
+ Their gold and silver's shining ore
+ He counts it all but dross:
+ 'Tis better treasure he desires;
+ A surer stock his passion fires,
+ And mild benevolence inspires
+ The worthy Man of Ross.
+
+
+ IV.
+
+ When want assails the widow's cot,
+ Or sickness strikes the poor man's hut,
+ When blasting winds or foggy rot
+ Augment the farmer's loss:
+ The sufferer straight knows where to go,
+ With all his wants and all his woe;
+ For glad experience leads him to
+ The worthy Man of Ross.
+
+
+ V.
+
+ This Man of Ross I 'll daily sing,
+ With vocal note and lyric string,
+ And duly, when I 've drank the king,
+ He 'll be my second toss.
+ May Heaven its choicest blessings send
+ On such a man, and such a friend;
+ And still may all that 's good attend
+ The worthy Man of Ross.
+
+
+ VI.
+
+ Now, if you ask about his name,
+ And where he lives with such a fame,
+ Indeed, I 'll say you are to blame,
+ For truly, _inter nos_,
+ 'Tis what belongs to you and me,
+ And all of high or low degree,
+ In every sphere to try to be
+ The worthy Man of Ross.
+
+
+
+
+A SONG ON THE TIMES.
+
+TUNE--_"Broom of the Cowdenknows."_
+
+
+ I.
+
+ When I began the world first,
+ It was not as 'tis now;
+ For all was plain and simple then,
+ And friends were kind and true:
+ Oh, the times, the weary, weary times!
+ The times that I now see;
+ I think the world 's all gone wrong,
+ From what it used to be.
+
+
+ II.
+
+ There were not then high capering heads,
+ Prick'd up from ear to ear;
+ And cloaks and caps were rarities,
+ For gentle folks to wear:
+ Oh, the times, the weary, weary times! &c.
+
+
+ III.
+
+ There 's not an upstart mushroom now,
+ But what sets up for taste;
+ And not a lass in all the land,
+ But must be lady-dress'd:
+ Oh, the times, the weary, weary times! &c.
+
+
+ IV.
+
+ Our young men married then for love,
+ So did our lasses too;
+ And children loved their parents dear,
+ As children ought to do:
+ Oh, the times, the weary, weary times! &c.
+
+
+ V.
+
+ For oh, the times are sadly changed--
+ A heavy change indeed!
+ For truth and friendship are no more,
+ And honesty is fled:
+ Oh, the times, the weary, weary times! &c.
+
+
+ VI.
+
+ There 's nothing now prevails but pride,
+ Among both high and low;
+ And strife, and greed, and vanity,
+ Is all that 's minded now:
+ Oh, the times, the weary, weary times! &c.
+
+
+ VII.
+
+ When I look through the world wide,
+ How times and fashions go,
+ It draws the tears from both my eyes,
+ And fills my heart with woe:
+ Oh, the times, the weary, weary times!
+ The times that I now see;
+ I wish the world were at an end,
+ For it will not mend for me!
+
+
+
+
+WILLIAM CAMERON.
+
+
+William Cameron, minister of Kirknewton, in the county of Edinburgh, was
+educated in Marischal College, Aberdeen, where he was a pupil of Dr
+Beattie, "who ever after entertained for him much esteem." A letter,
+addressed to him by this eminent professor, in 1774, has been published
+by Sir William Forbes;[3] and his name is introduced at the beginning of
+Dr Beattie's "Letter to the Rev. Hugh Blair, D.D., on the Improvement of
+Psalmody in Scotland. 1778, 8vo:"--"The message you lately sent me, by
+my friend Mr Cameron, has determined me to give you my thoughts at some
+length upon the subject of it."
+
+He died in his manse, on the 17th of November 1811, in the 60th year of
+his age, and the 26th year of his ministry. He was a considerable writer
+of verses, and his compositions are generally of a respectable order. He
+was the author of a "Collection of Poems," printed at Edinburgh in 1790,
+in a duodecimo volume; and in 1781, along with the celebrated John Logan
+and Dr Morrison, minister of Canisbay, he contributed towards the
+formation of a collection of Paraphrases from Scripture, which, being
+approved of by the General Assembly, are still used in public worship
+in the Church of Scotland. A posthumous volume of verses by Mr Cameron,
+entitled "Poems on Several Occasions," was published by subscription in
+1813--8vo, pp. 132. The following song, which was composed by Mr
+Cameron, on the restoration of the forfeited estates by Act of
+Parliament, in 1784, is copied from Johnson's "Musical Museum." It
+affords a very favourable specimen of the author's poetical talents.
+
+
+[3] Forbes's "Life of Beattie," vol. i. p. 375.
+
+
+
+
+AS O'ER THE HIGHLAND HILLS I HIED.
+
+TUNE--_"As I came in by Auchindoun."_
+
+
+ I.
+
+ As o'er the Highland hills I hied,
+ The Camerons in array I spied;
+ Lochiel's proud standard waving wide,
+ In all its ancient glory.
+ The martial pipe loud pierced the sky,
+ The bard arose, resounding high
+ Their valour, faith, and loyalty,
+ That shine in Scottish story.
+
+ No more the trumpet calls to arms,
+ Awaking battle's fierce alarms,
+ But every hero's bosom warms
+ With songs of exultation.
+ While brave Lochiel at length regains,
+ Through toils of war, his native plains,
+ And, won by glorious wounds, attains
+ His high paternal station.
+
+ Let now the voice of joy prevail,
+ And echo wide from hill to vale;
+ Ye warlike clans, arise and hail
+ Your laurell'd chiefs returning.
+ O'er every mountain, every isle,
+ Let peace in all her lustre smile,
+ And discord ne'er her day defile
+ With sullen shades of mourning.
+
+ M'Leod, M'Donald, join the strain,
+ M'Pherson, Fraser, and M'Lean;
+ Through all your bounds let gladness reign,
+ Both prince and patriot praising;
+ Whose generous bounty richly pours
+ The streams of plenty round your shores;
+ To Scotia's hills their pride restores,
+ Her faded honours raising.
+
+ Let all the joyous banquet share,
+ Nor e'er let Gothic grandeur dare,
+ With scowling brow, to overbear,
+ A vassal's right invading.
+ Let Freedom's conscious sons disdain
+ To crowd his fawning, timid train,
+ Nor even own his haughty reign,
+ Their dignity degrading.
+
+ Ye northern chiefs, whose rage unbroke
+ Has still repell'd the tyrant's shock;
+ Who ne'er have bow'd beneath his yoke,
+ With servile base prostration;--
+ Let each now train his trusty band,
+ 'Gainst foreign foes alone to stand,
+ With undivided heart and hand,
+ For Freedom, King, and Nation.
+
+
+
+
+MRS JOHN HUNTER.
+
+
+Anne Home was born in the year 1742. She was the eldest daughter of
+Robert Home, of Greenlaw, in Berwickshire, surgeon of Burgoyne's
+Regiment of Light Horse, and afterwards physician in Savoy. By
+contracting an early marriage, in which affection overcame more
+prudential considerations, both her parents gave offence to their
+relations, who refused to render them pecuniary assistance. Her father,
+though connected with many families of rank, and himself the son of a
+landowner, was consequently obliged to depend, in the early part of his
+career, on his professional exertions for the support of his family. His
+circumstances appear subsequently to have been more favourable. In July
+1771, Miss Home became the wife of John Hunter, the distinguished
+anatomist, to whom she bore two children. She afforded evidence of her
+early poetical talent, by composing, before she had completed her
+twenty-third year, the song beginning, "Adieu! ye streams that smoothly
+glide." This appeared in the _Lark_, an Edinburgh periodical, in the
+year 1765. In 1802, she published a collection of her poems, in an
+octavo volume, which she inscribed to her son, John Banks Hunter.
+
+During the lifetime of her distinguished husband, Mrs Hunter was in the
+habit of receiving at her table, and sharing in the conversation of, the
+chief literary persons of her time. Her evening _conversazioni_ were
+frequented by many of the more learned, as well as fashionable persons
+in the metropolis. On the death of her husband, which took place in
+1793, she sought greater privacy, though she still continued to reside
+in London. By those who were admitted to her intimacy, she was not more
+respected for her superior talents and intelligence, than held in esteem
+for her unaffected simplicity of manners. She was the life of her social
+parties, sustaining the happiness of the hour by her elegant
+conversation, and encouraging the diffident by her approbation. Amiable
+in disposition, she was possessed of a beautiful countenance and a
+handsome person. She wrote verses with facility, but she sought no
+distinction as a poet, preferring to be regarded as a good housewife and
+an agreeable member of society. In her latter years, she obtained
+amusement in resuming the song-writing habits of her youth, and in
+corresponding with her more intimate friends. She likewise derived
+pleasure in the cultivation of music: she played with skill, and sung
+with singular grace.
+
+Mrs Hunter died at London, on the 7th January 1821, after a lingering
+illness. Several of her lyrics had for some years appeared in the
+collections of national poetry. Those selected for the present work have
+long maintained a wide popularity. The songs evince a delicacy of
+thought, combined with a force and sweetness of expression.
+
+
+
+
+THE INDIAN DEATH-SONG.
+
+
+ The sun sets in night, and the stars shun the day,
+ But glory remains when their lights fade away.
+ Begin, ye tormentors, your threats are in vain,
+ For the son of Alknomook will never complain.
+
+ Remember the arrows he shot from his bow;
+ Remember your chiefs by his hatchet laid low.
+ Why so slow? Do you wait till I shrink from the pain?
+ No! the son of Alknomook shall never complain.
+
+ Remember the wood where in ambush we lay,
+ And the scalps which we bore from your nation away:
+ Now the flame rises fast; ye exult in my pain;
+ But the son of Alknomook can never complain.
+
+ I go to the land where my father is gone;
+ His ghost shall rejoice in the fame of his son.
+ Death comes, like a friend, to relieve me from pain,
+ And thy son, O Alknomook! has scorn'd to complain.
+
+
+
+
+MY MOTHER BIDS ME BIND MY HAIR.
+
+
+ My mother bids me bind my hair
+ With bands of rosy hue,
+ Tie up my sleeves with ribbons rare,
+ And lace my boddice blue.
+
+ "For why," she cries, "sit still and weep,
+ While others dance and play?"
+ Alas! I scarce can go or creep,
+ While Lubin is away.
+
+ 'Tis sad to think the days are gone,
+ When those we love were near;
+ I sit upon this mossy stone,
+ And sigh when none can hear.
+
+ And while I spin my flaxen thread,
+ And sing my simple lay,
+ The village seems asleep or dead,
+ Now Lubin is away.
+
+
+
+
+THE FLOWERS OF THE FOREST.[4]
+
+
+ Adieu! ye streams that smoothly glide,
+ Through mazy windings o'er the plain;
+ I 'll in some lonely cave reside,
+ And ever mourn my faithful swain.
+
+ Flower of the forest was my love,
+ Soft as the sighing summer's gale,
+ Gentle and constant as the dove,
+ Blooming as roses in the vale.
+
+ Alas! by Tweed my love did stray,
+ For me he search'd the banks around;
+ But, ah! the sad and fatal day,
+ My love, the pride of swains, was drown'd.
+
+ Now droops the willow o'er the stream;
+ Pale stalks his ghost in yonder grove;
+ Dire fancy paints him in my dream;
+ Awake, I mourn my hopeless love.
+
+
+[4] Of the "Flowers of the Forest," two other versions appear in the
+Collections. That version beginning, "I've heard the lilting at our
+yow-milking," is the composition of Miss Jane Elliot, the daughter of
+Sir Gilbert Elliot of Minto, Lord Justice-Clerk, who died in 1766. She
+composed the song about the middle of the century, in imitation of an
+old version to the same tune. The other version, which is the most
+popular of the three, with the opening line, "I 've seen the smiling of
+fortune beguiling," was also the composition of a lady, Miss Alison
+Rutherford; by marriage, Mrs Cockburn, wife of Mr Patrick Cockburn,
+advocate. Mrs Cockburn was a person of highly superior accomplishments.
+She associated with her learned contemporaries, by whom she was much
+esteemed, and died at Edinburgh in 1794, at an advanced age. "The
+forest" mentioned in the song comprehended the county of Selkirk, with
+portions of Peeblesshire and Lanarkshire. This was a hunting-forest of
+the Scottish kings.
+
+
+
+
+THE SEASON COMES WHEN FIRST WE MET.
+
+
+ The season comes when first we met,
+ But you return no more;
+ Why cannot I the days forget,
+ Which time can ne'er restore?
+ O! days too sweet, too bright to last,
+ Are you, indeed, for ever past?
+
+ The fleeting shadows of delight,
+ In memory I trace;
+ In fancy stop their rapid flight,
+ And all the past replace;
+ But, ah! I wake to endless woes,
+ And tears the fading visions close!
+
+
+
+
+OH, TUNEFUL VOICE! I STILL DEPLORE.
+
+
+ Oh, tuneful voice! I still deplore
+ Those accents which, though heard no more,
+ Still vibrate in my heart;
+ In echo's cave I long to dwell,
+ And still would hear the sad farewell,
+ When we were doom'd to part.
+
+ Bright eyes! O that the task were mine,
+ To guard the liquid fires that shine,
+ And round your orbits play--
+ To watch them with a vestal's care,
+ And feed with smiles a light so fair,
+ That it may ne'er decay!
+
+
+
+
+DEAR TO MY HEART AS LIFE'S WARM STREAM.[5]
+
+
+ Dear to my heart as life's warm stream,
+ Which animates this mortal clay;
+ For thee I court the waking dream,
+ And deck with smiles the future day;
+ And thus beguile the present pain,
+ With hopes that we shall meet again!
+
+ Yet will it be as when the past
+ Twined every joy, and care, and thought,
+ And o'er our minds one mantle cast,
+ Of kind affections finely wrought.
+ Ah, no! the groundless hope were vain,
+ For so we ne'er can meet again!
+
+ May he who claims thy tender heart,
+ Deserve its love as I have done!
+ For, kind and gentle as thou art,
+ If so beloved, thou 'rt fairly won.
+ Bright may the sacred torch remain,
+ And cheer thee till we meet again!
+
+
+[5] These lines were addressed by Mrs Hunter to her daughter, on the
+occasion of her marriage.
+
+
+
+
+THE LOT OF THOUSANDS.
+
+
+ When hope lies dead within the heart,
+ By secret sorrow close conceal'd,
+ We shrink lest looks or words impart
+ What must not be reveal'd.
+
+ 'Tis hard to smile when one would weep,
+ To speak when one would silent be;
+ To wake when one should wish to sleep,
+ And wake to agony.
+
+ Yet such the lot by thousands cast,
+ Who wander in this world of care,
+ And bend beneath the bitter blast,
+ To save them from despair.
+
+ But Nature waits her guests to greet,
+ Where disappointments cannot come,
+ And Time guides, with unerring feet,
+ The weary wanderers home.
+
+
+
+
+ALEXANDER, DUKE OF GORDON.
+
+
+Alexander, the fourth Duke of Gordon, was born in the year 1743, and
+died on the 17th of January 1827, in the eighty-fourth year of his age.
+Chiefly remembered as a kind patron of the poet Burns, his name is
+likewise entitled to a place in the national minstrelsy as the author of
+an excellent version of the often-parodied song, "Cauld Kail in
+Aberdeen." Of this song, the first words, written to an older tune,
+appeared in the second volume of Herd's "Collection," in 1776. These
+begin--
+
+ "Cauld kail in Aberdeen,
+ And castocks in Strabogie;
+ But yet I fear they 'll cook o'er soon,
+ And never warm the cogie."
+
+The song is anonymous, as is the version, first published in Dale's
+"Scottish Songs," beginning--
+
+ "There 's cauld kail in Aberdeen,
+ And castocks in Strabogie,
+ Where ilka lad maun hae his lass,
+ But I maun hae my cogie."
+
+A third version, distinct from that inserted in the text, was composed
+by William Reid, a bookseller in Glasgow, who died in 1831. His song is
+scarcely known. The Duke's song, with which Burns expressed himself as
+being "charmed," was first published in the second volume of Johnson's
+"Musical Museum." It is not only gay and animating, but has the merit of
+being free of blemishes in want of refinement, which affect the others.
+The "Bogie" celebrated in the song, it may be remarked, is a river in
+Aberdeenshire, which, rising in the parish of Auchindoir, discharges its
+waters into the Deveron, a little distance below the town of Huntly. It
+gives its name to the extensive and rich valley of Strathbogie, through
+which it proceeds.
+
+
+
+
+CAULD KAIL IN ABERDEEN.
+
+
+ There 's cauld kail in Aberdeen,
+ And castocks in Strabogie;
+ Gin I hae but a bonnie lass,
+ Ye 're welcome to your cogie.
+ And ye may sit up a' the night,
+ And drink till it be braid daylight;
+ Gi'e me a lass baith clean and tight,
+ To dance the reel o' Bogie.
+
+ In cotillions the French excel,
+ John Bull loves country dances;
+ The Spaniards dance fandangoes well;
+ Mynheer an all'mande prances;
+ In foursome reels the Scots delight,
+ At threesomes they dance wondrous light,
+ But twasomes ding a' out o' sight,
+ Danced to the reel o' Bogie.
+
+ Come, lads, and view your partners weel,
+ Wale each a blythesome rogie;
+ I'll tak this lassie to mysel',
+ She looks sae keen and vogie.
+ Now, piper lads, bang up the spring,
+ The country fashion is the thing,
+ To pree their mou's ere we begin
+ To dance the reel o' Bogie.
+
+ Now ilka lad has got a lass,
+ Save yon auld doited fogie,
+ And ta'en a fling upon the grass,
+ As they do in Strabogie.
+ But a' the lasses look sae fain,
+ We canna think oursel's to hain,
+ For they maun hae their come again,
+ To dance the reel o' Bogie.
+
+ Now a' the lads hae done their best,
+ Like true men o' Strabogie,
+ We 'll stop a while and tak' a rest,
+ And tipple out a cogie.
+ Come now, my lads, and tak your glass,
+ And try ilk ither to surpass,
+ In wishing health to every lass,
+ To dance the reel o' Bogie.
+
+
+
+
+MRS GRANT OF CARRON.
+
+
+Mrs Grant of Carron, the reputed author of one song, which has long
+maintained a favoured place, was a native of Aberlour, on the banks of
+the Spey, in the county of Banff. She was born about the year 1745, and
+was twice married--first, to her cousin, Mr Grant of Carron, near
+Elchies, on the river Spey, about the year 1763; and, secondly, to Dr
+Murray, a physician in Bath. She died at Bath about the year 1814.
+
+In his correspondence with George Thomson, Burns, alluding to the song
+of Mrs Grant, "Roy's Wife," remarks that he had in his possession "the
+original words of a song for the air in the handwriting of the lady who
+composed it," which, he adds, "are superior to any edition of the song
+which the public has seen." He subsequently composed an additional
+version himself, beginning, "Canst thou leave me thus, my Katie?" but
+this, like others of the bard's conversions of Scottish songs into an
+English dress, did not become popular. The verses by his female friend,
+in which the lady is made to be the sufferer by misplaced affection, and
+commencing, "Stay, my Willie, yet believe me," though published, remain
+likewise in obscurity. "Roy's Wife" was originally written to an old
+tune called the "Ruffian's Rant," but this melody is now known by the
+name of its favourite words. The sentiment of the song is peculiarly
+pleasing. The rejected lover begins by loudly complaining of his wrongs,
+and the broken assurances of his former sweetheart: then he suddenly
+recalls what were her good qualities; and the recollection of these
+causes him to forgive her marrying another, and even still to extend
+towards her his warmest sympathies.
+
+
+
+
+ROY'S WIFE OF ALDIVALLOCH.
+
+
+ Roy's wife of Aldivalloch,
+ Roy's wife of Aldivalloch,
+ Wat ye how she cheated me
+ As I cam' o'er the braes of Balloch!
+
+ She vow'd, she swore she wad be mine,
+ She said she lo'ed me best o' onie;
+ But, ah! the fickle, faithless quean,
+ She 's ta'en the carl, and left her Johnnie!
+ Roy's wife, &c.
+
+ Oh, she was a canty quean,
+ An' weel could dance the Hieland walloch!
+ How happy I, had she been mine,
+ Or I been Roy of Aldivalloch!
+ Roy's wife, &c.
+
+ Her hair sae fair, her e'en sae clear,
+ Her wee bit mou' sae sweet and bonnie!
+ To me she ever will be dear,
+ Though she's for ever left her Johnnie!
+ Roy's wife, &c.
+
+
+
+
+ROBERT COUPER, M.D.
+
+
+Dr Couper was born in the parish of Sorbie, in Wigtonshire, on the 22d
+of September 1750. His father rented the farm of Balsier in that parish.
+With a view towards the ministry in the Scottish Church, he proceeded to
+the University of Glasgow in 1769; but being deprived of both his
+parents by death before the completion of the ordinary period of
+academical study, and his pecuniary means being limited, he quitted the
+country for America, where he became tutor to a family in Virginia. He
+now contemplated taking orders in the Episcopal Church, but on the
+outbreak of the War of Independence in 1776 he returned to Britain
+without fulfilling this intention. He resumed his studies at Glasgow
+preparatory to his seeking a surgeon's diploma; and he afterwards
+established himself as a medical practitioner in Newton-Stewart, a
+considerable village in his native county. From this place he removed to
+Fochabers, about the year 1788, on being recommended, by his friend Dr
+Hamilton, Professor of Anatomy at Glasgow, as physician to the Duke of
+Gordon. Before entering on this new sphere of practice, he took the
+degree of M.D. At Fochabers he remained till the year 1806, when he
+again returned to the south. He died at Wigton on the 18th January
+1818. From a MS. Life of Dr Couper, in the possession of a gentleman in
+Wigton, and communicated to Dr Murray, author of "The Literary History
+of Galloway," these leading events of Dr Couper's life were first
+published by Mr Laing, in his "Additional Illustrations to the Scots
+Musical Museum," vol. iv. p. 513.
+
+Dr Couper published "Poetry, chiefly in the Scottish Language"
+(Inverness, 1804), 2 vols. 12mo. Among some rubbish, and much tawdry
+versification, there is occasional power, which, however, is
+insufficient to compensate for the general inferiority. There are only a
+few songs, but these are superior to the poems; and those following are
+not unworthy of a place among the modern national minstrelsy.
+
+
+
+
+KINRARA.
+
+TUNE--_"Neil Gow."_
+
+
+ Red gleams the sun on yon hill-tap,
+ The dew sits on the gowan;
+ Deep murmurs through her glens the Spey,
+ Around Kinrara rowan.
+ Where art thou, fairest, kindest lass?
+ Alas! wert thou but near me,
+ Thy gentle soul, thy melting eye,
+ Would ever, ever cheer me.
+
+ The lav'rock sings among the clouds,
+ The lambs they sport so cheerie,
+ And I sit weeping by the birk:
+ O where art thou, my dearie?
+ Aft may I meet the morning dew,
+ Lang greet till I be weary;
+ Thou canna, winna, gentle maid!
+ Thou canna be my dearie.
+
+
+
+
+THE SHEELING.
+
+TUNE--_"The Mucking o' Geordie's Byre."_
+
+
+ Oh, grand bounds the deer o'er the mountain,
+ And smooth skims the hare o'er the plain;
+ At noon, the cool shade by the fountain
+ Is sweet to the lass and her swain.
+ The ev'ning sits down dark and dreary;
+ Oh, yon 's the loud joys of the ha';
+ The laird sings his dogs and his dearie--
+ Oh, he kens na his singin' ava.
+
+ But oh, my dear lassie, when wi' thee,
+ What 's the deer and the maukin to me?
+ The storm soughin' wild drives me to thee,
+ And the plaid shelters baith me and thee.
+ The wild warld then may be reeling,
+ Pride and riches may lift up their e'e;
+ My plaid haps us baith in the sheeling--
+ That 's a' to my lassie and me.
+
+
+
+
+THE EWE-BUGHTS, MARION.[6]
+
+
+ Oh, mind ye the ewe-bughts, my Marion?
+ It was ther I forgather'd wi' thee;
+ The sun smiled sweet ower the mountain,
+ And saft sough'd the leaf on the tree.
+
+ Thou wast fair, thou wast bonnie, my Marion,
+ And lovesome thy rising breast-bane;
+ The dew sat in gems ower thy ringlets,
+ By the thorn when we were alane.
+
+ There we loved, there thou promised, my Marion,
+ Thy soul--a' thy beauties were mine;
+ Crouse we skipt to the ha' i' the gloamin',
+ But few were my slumbers and thine.
+
+ Fell war tore me lang frae thee, Marion,
+ Lang wat'ry and red was my e'e;
+ The pride o' the field but inflamed me
+ To return mair worthy o' thee.
+
+ Oh, aye art thou lovely, my Marion,
+ Thy heart bounds in kindness to me;
+ And here, oh, here is my bosom,
+ That languish'd, my Marion, for thee.
+
+
+[6] These verses form a modernised version of the old and popular song,
+"Will ye gae to the ewe-bughts, Marion?" The air is extremely beautiful.
+
+
+
+
+LADY ANNE BARNARD.
+
+
+Lady Anne Lindsay was the eldest of a family of eight sons and three
+daughters, born to James, Earl of Balcarres, by his spouse, Anne
+Dalrymple, a daughter of Sir Robert Dalrymple, of Castleton, Bart. She
+was born at Balcarres, in Fife, on the 8th of December 1750. Inheriting
+a large portion of the shrewdness long possessed by the old family of
+Lindsay, and a share of talent from her mother, who was a person of
+singular energy, though somewhat capricious in temper, Lady Anne
+evinced, at an early age, an uncommon amount of sagacity. Fortunate in
+having her talents well directed, and naturally inclined towards the
+acquisition of learning, she soon began to devote herself to useful
+reading, and even to literary composition. The highly popular ballad of
+"Auld Robin Gray" was written when she had only attained her
+twenty-first year. According to her own narrative, communicated to Sir
+Walter Scott, she had experienced loneliness on the marriage of her
+younger sister, who accompanied her husband to London, and had sought
+relief from a state of solitude by attempting the composition of song.
+An old Scottish melody,[7] sung by an eccentric female, an attendant on
+Lady Balcarres, was connected with words unsuitable to the plaintive
+nature of the air; and, with the design of supplying the defect, she
+formed the idea of writing "Auld Robin Gray." The hero of the ballad was
+the old herdsman at Balcarres. To the members of her own family Lady
+Anne only communicated her new ballad--scrupulously concealing the fact
+of her authorship from others, "perceiving the shyness it created in
+those who could write nothing."
+
+While still in the bloom of youth, the Earl of Balcarres died, and the
+Dowager Countess having taken up her residence in Edinburgh, Lady Anne
+experienced increased means of acquainting herself with the world of
+letters. At her mother's residence she met many of the literary persons
+of consideration in the northern metropolis, including such men as Lord
+Monboddo, David Hume, and Henry Mackenzie. To comfort her sister, Lady
+Margaret Fordyce, who was now a widow, she subsequently removed to
+London, where she formed the acquaintance of the principal personages
+then occupying the literary and political arena, such as Burke,
+Sheridan, Dundas, and Windham. She also became known to the Prince of
+Wales, who continued to entertain for her the highest respect. In 1793,
+she married Andrew Barnard, Esq., son of the Bishop of Limerick, and
+afterwards secretary, under Lord Macartney, to the colony at the Cape of
+Good Hope. She accompanied her husband to the Cape, and had meditated a
+voyage to New South Wales, that she might minister, by her benevolent
+counsels, towards the reformation of the convicts there exiled. On the
+death of her husband in 1807, she again resided with her widowed sister,
+the Lady Margaret, till the year 1812, when, on the marriage of her
+sister to Sir James Burges, she occupied a house of her own, and
+continued to reside in Berkeley Square till the period of her death,
+which took place on the 6th of May 1825.
+
+To entire rectitude of principle, amiability of manners, and kindliness
+of heart, Anne Barnard added the more substantial, and, in females, the
+more uncommon quality of eminent devotedness to intellectual labour.
+Literature had been her favourite pursuit from childhood, and even in
+advanced life, when her residence was the constant resort of her
+numerous relatives, she contrived to find leisure for occasional
+literary _runions_, while her forenoons were universally occupied in
+mental improvement. She maintained a correspondence with several of her
+brilliant contemporaries, and, in her more advanced years, composed an
+interesting narrative of family Memoirs. She was skilled in the use of
+the pencil, and sketched scenery with effect. In conversation she was
+acknowledged to excel; and her stories[8] and anecdotes were a source of
+delight to her friends. She was devotedly pious, and singularly
+benevolent: she was liberal in sentiment, charitable to the indigent,
+and sparing of the feelings of others. Every circle was charmed by her
+presence; by her condescension she inspired the diffident; and she
+banished dulness by the brilliancy of her humour. Her countenance, it
+should be added, wore a pleasant and animated expression, and her
+figure was modelled with the utmost elegance of symmetry and grace. Her
+sister, Lady Margaret Fordyce, was eminently beautiful.
+
+The popularity obtained by the ballad of "Auld Robin Gray" has seldom
+been exceeded in the history of any other metrical composition. It was
+sung in every fashionable circle, as well as by the ballad-singers, from
+Land's-end to John o' Groat's; was printed in every collection of
+national songs, and drew tears from our military countrymen both in
+America and India. With the exception of Pinkerton, every writer on
+Scottish poetry and song has awarded it a tribute of commendation. "The
+elegant and accomplished authoress," says Ritson, "has, in this
+beautiful production, to all that tenderness and simplicity for which
+the Scottish song has been so much celebrated, united a delicacy of
+expression which it never before attained." "'Auld Robin Gray,'" says
+Sir Walter Scott, "is that real pastoral which is worth all the
+dialogues which Corydon and Phillis have had together, from the days of
+Theocritus downwards."
+
+During a long lifetime, till within two years of her death, Lady Anne
+Barnard resisted every temptation to declare herself the author of the
+popular ballad, thus evincing her determination not to have the secret
+wrested from her till she chose to divulge it. Some of those inducements
+may be enumerated. The extreme popularity of the ballad might have
+proved sufficient in itself to justify the disclosure; but, apart from
+this consideration, a very fine tune had been put to it by a doctor of
+music;[9] a romance had been founded upon it by a man of eminence; it
+was made the subject of a play, of an opera, and of a pantomime; it had
+been claimed by others; a sequel had been written to it by some
+scribbler, who professed to have composed the whole ballad; it had been
+assigned an antiquity far beyond the author's time; the Society of
+Antiquaries had made it the subject of investigation; and the author had
+been advertised for in the public prints, a reward being offered for the
+discovery. Never before had such general interest been exhibited
+respecting any composition in Scottish verse.
+
+In the "Pirate," published in 1823, the author of "Waverley" had
+compared the condition of Minna to that of Jeanie Gray, in the words of
+Lady Anne, in a sequel which she had published to the original ballad:--
+
+ "Nae langer she wept, her tears were a' spent;
+ Despair it was come, and she thought it content;
+ She thought it content, but her cheek it grew pale,
+ And she droop'd like a snowdrop broke down by the hail!"
+
+At length, in her seventy-third year, and upwards of half a century
+after the period of its composition, the author voluntarily made avowal
+of the authorship of the ballad and its sequel. She wrote to Sir Walter
+Scott, with whom she was acquainted, requesting him to inform his
+_personal friend_, the author of "Waverley," that she was indeed the
+author. She enclosed a copy to Sir Walter, written in her own hand; and,
+with her consent, in the course of the following year, he printed "Auld
+Robin Gray" as a contribution to the Bannatyne Club.
+
+The second part has not acquired such decided popularity, and it has not
+often been published with it in former Collections. Of the fact of its
+inequality, the accomplished author was fully aware: she wrote it
+simply to gratify the desire of her venerable mother, who often wished
+to know how "the unlucky business of Jeanie and Jamie ended." The
+Countess, it may be remarked, was much gratified by the popularity of
+the ballad; and though she seems, out of respect to her daughter's
+feelings, to have retained the secret, she could not resist the frequent
+repetition of it to her friends.
+
+In the character of Lady Anne Barnard, the defective point was a certain
+want of decision, which not only led to her declining many distinguished
+and advantageous offers for her hand, but tended, in some measure, to
+deprive her of posthumous fame. Illustrative of the latter fact, it has
+been recorded that, having entrusted to Sir Walter Scott a volume of
+lyrics, composed by herself and by others of the noble house of Lindsay,
+with permission to give it to the world, she withdrew her consent after
+the compositions had been printed in a quarto volume, and were just on
+the eve of being published. The copies of the work, which was entitled
+"Lays of the Lindsays," appear to have been destroyed. One lyric only
+has been recovered, beginning, "Why tarries my love?" It is printed as
+the composition of Lady Anne Barnard, in a note appended to the latest
+edition of Johnson's "Musical Museum," by Mr C. K. Sharpe, who
+transcribed it from the _Scots Magazine_ for May 1805. The popular song,
+"Logie o' Buchan," sometimes attributed to Lady Anne in the Collections,
+did not proceed from her pen, but was composed by George Halket,
+parochial schoolmaster of Rathen, in Aberdeenshire, about the middle of
+the last century.
+
+
+[7] The name of this old melody is, "The Bridegroom greets when the Sun
+gangs down."--See Stenhouse's Notes to Johnson's "Musical Museum," vol.
+iv. p. 280; the "Lives of the Lindsays," by Lord Lindsay, vol. ii., pp.
+314, 332, 392. Lond. 1849, 3 vols., 8vo.
+
+[8] "She was entertaining a large party of distinguished guests at
+dinner, when a hitch occurred in the kitchen. The old servant came up
+behind her and whispered, 'My lady, you must tell another story--the
+second course won't be ready for five minutes!'"--Letter of General
+Lindsay to Lord Lindsay, "Lives of the Lindsays," vol. ii. p. 387.
+
+[9] The Rev. William Leeves, of Wrington, to whose tune the ballad is
+now sung.--See an account of Mr Leeves' claims to the authorship of the
+tune, &c., in Johnson's "Musical Museum;" Stenhouse's Notes, vol. iv. p.
+231.
+
+
+
+
+AULD ROBIN GRAY.
+
+PART I.
+
+
+ When the sheep are in the fauld, and the kye 's come hame,
+ And a' the warld to rest are gane,
+ The waes o' my heart fa' in showers frae my e'e,
+ Unkent by my gudeman, wha sleeps sound by me.
+
+ Young Jamie lo'ed me weel, and he sought me for his bride,
+ But saving a crown-piece, he had naething beside;
+ To make the crown a pound, my Jamie gaed to sea,
+ And the crown and the pound they were baith for me.
+
+ He hadna been gane a twelvemonth and a day,
+ When my father brake his arm, and the cow was stown away;
+ My mither she fell sick--my Jamie at the sea;
+ And auld Robin Gray came a-courting me.
+
+ My father couldna wark, and my mither couldna spin;
+ I toil'd day and night, but their bread I couldna win;--
+ Auld Rob maintain'd them baith, and, wi' tears in his e'e,
+ Said, "Jeanie, oh, for their sakes, will ye no marry me?"
+
+ My heart it said na, and I look'd for Jamie back;
+ But hard blew the winds, and his ship was a wrack;
+ The ship was a wrack--why didna Jamie dee?
+ Or why am I spared to cry, Wae is me?
+
+ My father urged me sair--my mither didna speak;
+ But she look'd in my face till my heart was like to break;
+ They gied him my hand--my heart was in the sea--
+ And so Robin Gray he was gudeman to me.
+
+ I hadna been his wife a week but only four,
+ When, mournfu' as I sat on the stane at my door,
+ I saw my Jamie's ghaist, for I couldna think it he,
+ Till he said, "I'm come hame, love, to marry thee."
+
+ Oh, sair, sair did we greet, and mickle say of a';
+ I gied him a kiss, and bade him gang awa';--
+ I wish that I were dead, but I'm nae like to dee;
+ For though my heart is broken, I'm but young, wae is me!
+
+ I gang like a ghaist, and carena much to spin;
+ I darena think o' Jamie, for that wad be a sin;
+ But I'll do my best a gude wife to be,
+ For oh, Robin Gray, he is kind to me!
+
+
+PART II.
+
+ The spring had pass'd over, 'twas summer nae mair,
+ And, trembling, were scatter'd the leaves in the air;
+ "Oh, winter," cried Jeanie, "we kindly agree,
+ For wae looks the sun when he shines upon me."
+
+ Nae langer she wept, her tears were a' spent;
+ Despair it was come, and she thought it content;
+ She thought it content, but her cheek was grown pale,
+ And she droop'd like a snow-drop broke down by the hail.
+
+ Her father was sad, and her mother was wae,
+ But silent and thoughtfu' was auld Robin Gray;
+ He wander'd his lane, and his face was as lean
+ As the side of a brae where the torrents have been.
+
+ He gaed to his bed, but nae physic would take,
+ And often he said, "It is best, for her sake!"
+ While Jeanie supported his head as he lay,
+ The tears trickled down upon auld Robin Gray.
+
+ "Oh, greet nae mair, Jeanie!" said he, wi' a groan;
+ "I 'm nae worth your sorrow--the truth maun be known;
+ Send round for your neighbours--my hour it draws near,
+ And I 've that to tell that it 's fit a' should hear.
+
+ "I 've wrang'd her," he said, "but I kent it o'er late;
+ I 've wrang'd her, and sorrow is speeding my date;
+ But a 's for the best, since my death will soon free
+ A faithfu' young heart, that was ill match'd wi' me.
+
+ "I lo'ed and I courted her mony a day,
+ The auld folks were for me, but still she said nay;
+ I kentna o' Jamie, nor yet o' her vow;--
+ In mercy forgi'e me, 'twas I stole the cow!
+
+ "I cared not for crummie, I thought but o' thee;
+ I thought it was crummie stood 'twixt you and me;
+ While she fed your parents, oh! did you not say,
+ You never would marry wi' auld Robin Gray?
+
+ "But sickness at hame, and want at the door--
+ You gi'ed me your hand, while your heart it was sore;
+ I saw it was sore, why took I her hand?
+ Oh, that was a deed to my shame o'er the land!
+
+ "How truth, soon or late, comes to open daylight!
+ For Jamie cam' back, and your cheek it grew white;
+ White, white grew your cheek, but aye true unto me.
+ Oh, Jeanie, I 'm thankfu'--I 'm thankfu' to dee!
+
+ "Is Jamie come here yet?" and Jamie he saw;
+ "I 've injured you sair, lad, so I leave you my a';
+ Be kind to my Jeanie, and soon may it be!
+ Waste no time, my dauties, in mournin' for me."
+
+ They kiss'd his cauld hands, and a smile o'er his face
+ Seem'd hopefu' of being accepted by grace;
+ "Oh, doubtna," said Jamie, "forgi'en he will be,
+ Wha wadna be tempted, my love, to win thee?"
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ The first days were dowie, while time slipt awa';
+ But saddest and sairest to Jeanie of a'
+ Was thinking she couldna be honest and right,
+ Wi' tears in her e'e, while her heart was sae light.
+
+ But nae guile had she, and her sorrow away,
+ The wife of her Jamie, the tear couldna stay;
+ A bonnie wee bairn--the auld folks by the fire--
+ Oh, now she has a' that her heart can desire!
+
+In an earlier continuation of the original ballad, there are some good
+stanzas, which, however, the author had thought proper to expunge from
+the piece in its altered and extended form. One verse, descriptive of
+Robin Gray's feelings, on observing the concealed and withering grief of
+his spouse, is beautiful for its simplicity:--
+
+ "Nae questions he spier'd her concerning her health,
+ He look'd at her often, but aye 'twas by stealth;
+ When his heart it grew grit, and, sighin', he feign'd
+ To gang to the door to see if it rain'd."
+
+
+
+
+SONG.
+
+
+ Why tarries my love?
+ Ah! where does he rove?
+ My love is long absent from me.
+ Come hither, my dove,
+ I 'll write to my love,
+ And send him a letter by thee.
+
+ To find him, swift fly!
+ The letter I 'll tie
+ Secure to thy leg with a string.
+ Ah! not to my leg,
+ Fair lady, I beg,
+ But fasten it under my wing.
+
+ Her dove she did deck,
+ She drew o'er his neck
+ A bell and a collar so gay;
+ She tied to his wing
+ The scroll with a string,
+ Then kiss'd him and sent him away.
+
+ It blew and it rain'd,
+ The pigeon disdain'd
+ To seek shelter; undaunted he flew,
+ Till wet was his wing,
+ And painful his string,
+ So heavy the letter it grew.
+
+ It flew all around,
+ Till Colin he found,
+ Then perch'd on his head with the prize;
+ Whose heart, while he reads,
+ With tenderness bleeds,
+ For the pigeon that flutters and dies.
+
+
+
+
+JOHN TAIT.
+
+
+John Tait was, in early life, devoted to the composition of poetry. In
+Ruddiman's _Edinburgh Weekly Magazine_ for 1770, he repeatedly published
+verses in the Poet's Corner, with his initials attached, and in
+subsequent years he published anonymously the "Cave of Morar," "Poetical
+Legends," and other poems. "The Vanity of Human Wishes, an Elegy,
+occasioned by the Untimely Death of a Scots Poet," appears under the
+signature of J. Tait, in "Poems on Various Subjects by Robert Fergusson,
+Part II.," Edinburgh, 1779, 12mo. He was admitted as a Writer to the
+Signet on the 21st of November 1781; and in July 1805 was appointed
+Judge of Police, on a new police system being introduced into Edinburgh.
+In the latter capacity he continued to officiate till July 1812, when a
+new Act of Parliament entrusted the settlement of police cases, as
+formerly, to the magistrates of the city. Mr Tait died at his house in
+Abercromby Place, on the 29th of August 1817.
+
+"The Banks of the Dee," the only popular production from the pen of the
+author, was composed in the year 1775, on the occasion of a friend
+leaving Scotland to join the British forces in America, who were then
+vainly endeavouring to suppress that opposition to the control of the
+mother country which resulted in the permanent establishment of American
+independence. The song is set to the Irish air of "Langolee." It was
+printed in Wilson's Collection of Songs, which was published at
+Edinburgh in 1779, with four additional stanzas by a Miss Betsy B----s,
+of inferior merit. It was re-published in "The Goldfinch" (Edinburgh,
+1782), and afterwards was inserted in Johnson's "Musical Museum." Burns,
+in his letter to Mr George Thomson, of 7th April 1793, writes--"'The
+Banks of the Dee' is, you know, literally 'Langolee' to slow time. The
+song is well enough, but has some false imagery in it; for instance--
+
+ "'And sweetly the nightingale sung from the tree.'
+
+In the first place, the nightingale sings in a low bush, but never from
+a tree; and, in the second place, there never was a nightingale seen or
+heard on the banks of the Dee, or on the banks of any other river in
+Scotland. Creative rural imagery is always comparatively flat."
+
+Thirty years after its first appearance, Mr Tait published a new edition
+of the song in Mr Thomson's Collection, vol. iv., in which he has, by
+alterations on the first half stanza, acknowledged the justice of the
+strictures of the Ayrshire bard. The stanza is altered thus:
+
+ "'Twas summer, and softly the breezes were blowing,
+ And sweetly the _wood-pigeon coo'd from the tree_;
+ At the foot of a rock, where the _wild rose was growing_,
+ I sat myself down on the banks of the Dee."
+
+The song, it may be added, has in several collections been erroneously
+attributed to John Home, author of the tragedy of "Douglas."
+
+
+
+
+THE BANKS OF THE DEE.
+
+
+ 'Twas summer, and softly the breezes were blowing,
+ And sweetly the nightingale sung from the tree,
+ At the foot of a rock where the river was flowing,
+ I sat myself down on the banks of the Dee.
+ Flow on, lovely Dee, flow on, thou sweet river,
+ Thy banks' purest stream shall be dear to me ever,
+ For there first I gain'd the affection and favour
+ Of Jamie, the glory and pride of the Dee.
+
+ But now he 's gone from me, and left me thus mourning,
+ To quell the proud rebels--for valiant is he;
+ And, ah! there's no hope of his speedy returning,
+ To wander again on the banks of the Dee.
+ He 's gone, hapless youth! o'er the rude roaring billows,
+ The kindest and sweetest of all the gay fellows,
+ And left me to wander 'mongst those once loved willows,
+ The loneliest maid on the banks of the Dee.
+
+ But time and my prayers may perhaps yet restore him,
+ Blest peace may restore my dear shepherd to me;
+ And when he returns, with such care I 'll watch o'er him,
+ He never shall leave the sweet banks of the Dee.
+ The Dee then shall flow, all its beauties displaying,
+ The lambs on its banks shall again be seen playing,
+ While I with my Jamie am carelessly straying,
+ And tasting again all the sweets of the Dee.
+
+
+
+
+HECTOR MACNEILL.
+
+
+Hector Macneill was born on the 22d of October 1746, in the villa of
+Rosebank, near Roslin; and, to to use his own words, "amidst the murmur
+of streams and the shades of Hawthornden, may be said to have inhaled
+with life the atmosphere of a poet."[10] Descended from an old family,
+who possessed a small estate in the southern district of Argyllshire,
+his father, after various changes of fortune, had obtained a company in
+the 42d Regiment, with which he served during several campaigns in
+Flanders. From continued indisposition, and consequent inability to
+undergo the fatigues of military life, he disposed of his commission,
+and retired, with his wife and two children, to the villa of Rosebank,
+of which he became the owner. A few years after the birth of his son
+Hector, he felt necessitated, from straitened circumstances, to quit
+this beautiful residence; and he afterwards occupied a farm on the banks
+of Loch Lomond. Such a region of the picturesque was highly suitable for
+the development of those poetical talents which had already appeared in
+young Hector, amidst the rural amenities of Roslin. In his eleventh
+year, he wrote a drama, after the manner of Gay; and the respectable
+execution of his juvenile attempts in versification gained him the
+approbation of Dr Doig, the learned rector of the grammar-school of
+Stirling, who strongly urged his father to afford him sufficient
+instruction, to enable him to enter upon one of the liberal professions.
+Had Captain Macneill's circumstances been prosperous, this counsel might
+have been adopted, for the son's promising talents were not unnoticed by
+his father; but pecuniary difficulties opposed an unsurmountable
+obstacle.
+
+An opulent relative, a West India trader, resident in Bristol, had paid
+the captain a visit; and, attracted by the shrewdness of the son Hector,
+who was his namesake, offered to retain him in his employment, and to
+provide for him in life. After two years' preparatory education, he was
+accordingly sent to Bristol, in his fourteenth year. He was destined to
+an adventurous career, singularly at variance with his early
+predilections and pursuits. By his relative he was designed to sail in a
+slave ship to the coast of Guinea; but the intercession of some female
+friends prevented his being connected with an expedition so uncongenial
+to his feelings. He was now despatched on board a vessel to the island
+of St Christopher's, with the view of his making trial of a seafaring
+life, but was provided with recommendatory letters, in the event of his
+preferring employment on land. With a son of the Bristol trader he
+remained twelvemonths; and, having no desire to resume his labours as a
+seaman, he afterwards sailed for Guadaloupe, where he continued in the
+employment of a merchant for three years, till 1763, when the island was
+ceded to the French. Dismissed by his employer, with a scanty balance of
+salary, he had some difficulty in obtaining the means of transport to
+Antigua; and there, finding himself reduced to entire dependence, he was
+content, without any pecuniary recompense, to become assistant to his
+relative, who had come to the town of St John's. From this unhappy
+condition he was rescued, after a short interval. He was possessed of a
+knowledge of the French language; a qualification which, together with
+his general abilities, recommended him to fill the office of assistant
+to the Provost-Marshal of Grenada. This appointment he held for three
+years, when, hearing of the death of his mother and sister, he returned
+to Britain. On the death of his father, eighteen months after his
+arrival, he succeeded to a small patrimony, which he proceeded to invest
+in the purchase of an annuity of 80 per annum. With this limited
+income, he seems to have planned a permanent settlement in his native
+country; but the unexpected embarrassment of the party from whom he had
+purchased the annuity, and an attachment of an unfortunate nature,
+compelled him to re-embark on the ocean of adventure. He accepted the
+office of assistant-secretary on board Admiral Geary's flag-ship, and
+made two cruises with the grand fleet. Proposing again to return to
+Scotland, he afterwards resigned his appointment; but he was induced, by
+the remonstrances of his friends, Dr Currie, and Mr Roscoe, of
+Liverpool, to accept a similar situation on board the flag-ship of Sir
+Richard Bickerton, who had been appointed to take the chief command of
+the naval power in India. In this post, many of the hardships incident
+to a seafaring life fell to his share; and being present at the last
+indecisive action with "Suffrein," he had likewise to encounter the
+perils of war. His present connexion subsisted three years; but Macneill
+sickened in the discharge of duties wholly unsuitable for him, and
+longed for the comforts of home. His resources were still limited, but
+he flattered himself in the expectation that he might earn a subsistence
+as a man of letters. He fixed his residence at a farm-house in the
+vicinity of Stirling; and, amidst the pursuits of literature, the
+composition of verses, and the cultivation of friendship, he contrived,
+for a time, to enjoy a considerable share of happiness. But he speedily
+discovered the delusion of supposing that an individual, entirely
+unknown in the literary world, could at once be able to establish his
+reputation, and inspire confidence in the bookselling trade, whose
+favour is so essential to men of letters. Discouraged in longer
+persevering in the attempt of procuring a livelihood at home, Macneill,
+for the fourth time, took his departure from Britain. Provided with
+letters of introduction to influential and wealthy persons in Jamaica,
+he sailed for that island on a voyage of adventure; being now in his
+thirty-eighth year, and nearly as unprovided for as when he had first
+left his native shores, twenty-four years before. On his arrival at
+Kingston, he was employed by the collector of customs, whose
+acquaintance he had formed on the voyage; but this official soon found
+he could dispense with his services, which he did, without aiding him in
+obtaining another situation. The individuals to whom he had brought
+letters were unable or unwilling to render him assistance, and the
+unfortunate adventurer was constrained, in his emergency, to accept the
+kind invitation of a medical friend, to make his quarters with him till
+some satisfactory employment might occur. He now discovered two intimate
+companions of his boyhood settled in the island, in very prosperous
+circumstances, and from these he received both pecuniary aid and the
+promise of future support. Through their friendly offices, his two sons,
+who had been sent out by a generous friend, were placed in situations of
+respectability and emolument. But the thoughts of the poet himself were
+directed towards Britain. He sailed from Jamaica, with a thousand plans
+and schemes hovering in his mind, equally vague and indefinite as had
+been his aims and designs during the past chapter of his history. A
+small sum given him as the pay of an inland ensigncy, now conferred on
+him, but antedated, sufficed to defray the expenses of the voyage.
+
+Before leaving Scotland for Jamaica, Macneill had commenced a poem,
+founded on a Highland tradition; and to the completion of this
+production he assiduously devoted himself during his homeward voyage. It
+was published at Edinburgh in 1789, under the title of "The Harp, a
+Legendary Tale." In the previous year, he published a pamphlet in
+vindication of slavery, entitled, "On the Treatment of the Negroes in
+Jamaica." This pamphlet, written to gratify the wishes of an interested
+friend, rather than as the result of his own convictions, he
+subsequently endeavoured to suppress. For several years, Macneill
+persevered in his unsettled mode of life. On his return from Jamaica, he
+resided in the mansion of his friend, Mr Graham of Gartmore, himself a
+writer of verses, as well as a patron of letters; but a difference with
+the family caused him to quit this hospitable residence. After passing
+some time with his relatives in Argyllshire, he entertained a proposal
+of establishing himself in Glasgow, as partner of a mercantile house,
+but this was terminated by the dissolution of the firm; and a second
+attempt to succeed in the republic of letters had an equally
+unsuccessful issue. In Edinburgh, whither he had removed, he was seized
+with a severe nervous illness, which, during the six following years,
+rendered him incapable of sustained physical exertion. With a little
+money, which he contrived to raise on his annuity, he retired to a small
+cottage at St Ninians; but his finances again becoming reduced, he
+accepted of the hospitable invitation of his friends, Major Spark and
+his lady, to become the inmate of their residence of Viewforth House,
+Stirling. At this period, Macneill composed the greater number of his
+best songs, and produced his poem of "Scotland's Skaith, or the History
+of Will and Jean," which was published in 1795, and speedily gained him
+a wide reputation. Before the close of twelvemonths, it passed through
+no fewer than fourteen editions. A sequel, entitled "The Waes o' War,"
+which appeared in 1796, attained nearly an equal popularity. The
+original ballad was composed during the author's solitary walks along
+the promenades of the King's Park, Stirling, while he was still
+suffering mental depression. It was completed in his own mind before any
+of the stanzas were committed to paper.
+
+The hope of benefiting his enfeebled constitution in a warm climate
+induced him to revisit Jamaica. As a parting tribute to his friends at
+Stirling, he published, in 1799, immediately before his departure, a
+descriptive poem, entitled "The Links of Forth, or a Parting Peep at the
+Carse of Stirling," which, regarded as the last effort of a dying poet,
+obtained a reception fully equal to its merits.
+
+On the oft-disappointed and long unfortunate poet the sun of prosperity
+at length arose. On his arrival in Jamaica, one of his early friends, Mr
+John Graham, of Three-Mile-River, settled on him an annuity of 100
+a-year; and, in a few months afterwards, they sailed together for
+Britain, the poet's health being essentially improved. Macneill now
+fixed his permanent residence in Edinburgh, and, with the proceeds of
+several legacies bequeathed to him, together with his annuity, was
+enabled to live in comparative affluence. The narrative of his early
+adventures and hardships is supposed to form the basis of a novel,
+entitled "The Memoirs of Charles Macpherson, Esq.," which proceeded from
+his pen in 1800. In the following year, he published a complete edition
+of his poetical works, in two duodecimo volumes. In 1809, he published
+"The Pastoral, or Lyric Muse of Scotland," in a thin quarto volume; and
+about the same time, anonymously, two other works in verse, entitled
+"Town Fashions, or Modern Manners Delineated," and "Bygone Times and
+Late-come Changes." His last work, "The Scottish Adventurers," a novel,
+appeared in 1812, in two octavo volumes.
+
+The latter productions of Hector Macneill, both in prose and verse,
+tended rather to diminish than increase his fame. They exhibit the
+sentiments of a querulous old man, inclined to cling to the habits of
+his youth, and to regard any improvement as an act of ruthless
+innovation. As the author of some excellent songs, and one of the most
+popular ballads in the Scottish language, his name will continue to be
+remembered. His songs, "Mary of Castlecary," "My boy, Tammie," "Come
+under my plaidie," "I lo'ed ne'er a laddie but ane," "Donald and Flora,"
+and "Dinna think, bonnie lassie," will retain a firm hold of the popular
+mind. His characteristic is tenderness and pathos, combined with unity
+of feeling, and a simplicity always genuine and true to nature. Allan
+Cunningham, who forms only a humble estimate of his genius, remarks that
+his songs "have much softness and truth, an insinuating grace of
+manners, and a decorum of expression, with no small skill in the
+dramatic management of the stories."[11] The ballad of "Scotland's
+Skaith" ranks among the happiest conceptions of the Scottish Doric muse;
+rural life is depicted with singular force and accuracy, and the
+debasing consequences of the inordinate use of ardent spirits among the
+peasantry, are delineated with a vigour and power, admirably adapted to
+suit the author's benevolent intention in the suppression of
+intemperance.
+
+During his latter years, Macneill was much cherished among the
+fashionables of the capital. He was a tall, venerable-looking old man;
+and although his complexion was sallow, and his countenance somewhat
+austere, his agreeable and fascinating conversation, full of humour and
+replete with anecdote, rendered him an acceptable guest in many social
+circles. He displayed a lively, but not a vigorous intellect, and his
+literary attainments were inconsiderable. Of his own character as a man
+of letters, he had evidently formed a high estimate. He was prone to
+satire, but did not unduly indulge in it. He was especially impatient of
+indifferent versification; and, among his friends, rather discouraged
+than commended poetical composition. Though long unsettled himself, he
+was loud in his commendations of industry; and, from the gay man of the
+world, he became earnest on the subject of religion. For several years,
+his health seems to have been unsatisfactory. In a letter to a friend,
+dated Edinburgh, January 30, 1813, he writes:--"Accumulating years and
+infirmities are beginning to operate very sensibly upon me now, and
+yearly do I experience their increasing influence. Both my hearing and
+my sight are considerably weakened, and, should I live a few years
+longer, I look forward to a state which, with all our love for life, is
+certainly not to be envied.... My pen is my chief amusement. Reading
+soon fatigues, and loses its zest; composition never, till over-exertion
+reminds me of my imprudence, by sensations which too frequently render
+me unpleasant during the rest of the day." On the 15th of March 1818, in
+his seventy-second year, the poet breathed his last, in entire
+composure, and full of hope.
+
+
+[10] We quote from an autobiography of the poet, the original of which
+is in the possession of one of his surviving friends. We have likewise
+to acknowledge our obligations to Dr Muschet, of Birkhill, near
+Stirling, for communicating some interesting letters of Macneill,
+addressed to his late father. The late Mr John Campbell, Writer to the
+Signet, had undertaken to supply a memoir for this work, partly from his
+own recollections of his deceased friend; but, before he could fulfil
+his promise, he was called to rest with his fathers. We have, however,
+taken advantage of his reminiscences of the bard, orally communicated to
+us. An intelligent abridgment of the autobiography appears in
+_Blackwood's Magazine_, vol. iv. p. 273. See likewise the _Encyclopdia
+Britannica_, vol. xv. p. 307.
+
+[11] "The Songs of Scotland, Ancient and Modern," by Allan Cunningham,
+vol. i. p. 242. London, 1825; 4 vols. 12mo.
+
+
+
+
+MARY OF CASTLECARY.[12]
+
+TUNE--_"Bonnie Dundee."_
+
+
+ "Oh, saw ye my wee thing? saw ye my ain thing?
+ Saw ye my true love, down on yon lee?
+ Cross'd she the meadow yestreen at the gloamin'?
+ Sought she the burnie whare flow'rs the haw-tree?
+ Her hair it is lint-white; her skin it is milk-white;
+ Dark is the blue o' her saft rolling e'e;
+ Red, red her ripe lips, and sweeter than roses:
+ Whare could my wee thing wander frae me?"
+
+ "I saw na your wee thing, I saw na your ain thing,
+ Nor saw I your true love, down on yon lea;
+ But I met my bonnie thing, late in the gloamin',
+ Down by the burnie whare flow'rs the haw-tree.
+ Her hair it was lint-white; her skin it was milk-white;
+ Dark was the blue o' her saft rolling e'e;
+ Red were her ripe lips, and sweeter than roses:
+ Sweet were the kisses that she ga'e to me!"
+
+ "It was na my wee thing, it was na my ain thing,
+ It was na my true love, ye met by the tree:
+ Proud is her leal heart--modest her nature;
+ She never lo'ed ony till ance she lo'ed me.
+ Her name it is Mary; she 's frae Castlecary;
+ Aft has she sat, when a bairn, on my knee;--
+ Fair as your face is, were 't fifty times fairer,
+ Young bragger, she ne'er would gi'e kisses to thee."
+
+ "It was, then, your Mary; she 's frae Castlecary;
+ It was, then, your true love I met by the tree;--
+ Proud as her heart is, and modest her nature,
+ Sweet were the kisses that she ga'e to me."
+ Sair gloom'd his dark brow, blood-red his cheek grew;
+ Wild flash'd the fire frae his red rolling e'e--
+ "Ye 's rue sair, this morning, your boasts and your scorning;
+ Defend, ye fause traitor! fu' loudly ye lie."
+
+ "Awa' wi' beguiling," cried the youth, smiling;--
+ Aff went the bonnet; the lint-white locks flee;
+ The belted plaid fa'ing, her white bosom shawing--
+ Fair stood the lo'ed maid wi' the dark rolling e'e.
+ "Is it my wee thing? is it mine ain thing?
+ Is it my true love here that I see?"
+ "Oh, Jamie, forgi'e me! your heart 's constant to me;
+ I 'll never mair wander, dear laddie, frae thee!"
+
+
+[12] This song was first published, in May 1791, in _The Bee_, an
+Edinburgh periodical, conducted by Dr James Anderson.
+
+
+
+
+MY BOY, TAMMY.[13]
+
+
+ "Whare hae ye been a' day,
+ My boy, Tammy?
+ Whare hae ye been a' day,
+ My boy, Tammy?"
+ "I 've been by burn and flow'ry brae,
+ Meadow green, and mountain gray,
+ Courting o' this young thing,
+ Just come frae her mammy."
+
+ "And whare got ye that young thing,
+ My boy, Tammy?"
+ "I gat her down in yonder howe,
+ Smiling on a broomy knowe,
+ Herding a wee lamb and ewe
+ For her poor mammy."
+
+ "What said ye to the bonnie bairn,
+ My boy, Tammy?"
+ "I praised her een, sae bonny blue,
+ Her dimpled cheek, and cherry mou';
+ I pree'd it aft, as ye may true;--
+ She said she 'd tell her mammy.
+
+ "I held her to my beating heart,
+ My young, my smiling lammie!
+ 'I hae a house, it cost me dear;
+ I 've wealth o' plenishin' and gear;--
+ Ye 'se get it a', were 't ten times mair,
+ Gin ye will leave your mammy.'
+
+ "The smile gaed aff her bonnie face--
+ 'I maunna leave my mammy;
+ She 's gi'en me meat, she 's gi'en me claise,
+ She 's been my comfort a' my days;
+ My father's death brought mony waes--
+ I canna leave my mammy.'"
+
+ "We 'll tak her hame, and mak her fain,
+ My ain kind-hearted lammie;
+ We 'll gi'e her meat, we 'll gi'e her claise,
+ We 'll be her comfort a' her days."
+ The wee thing gi'es her hand and says--
+ "There! gang and ask my mammy."
+
+ "Has she been to kirk wi' thee,
+ My boy, Tammy?"
+ "She has been to kirk wi' me,
+ And the tear was in her e'e;
+ But, oh! she 's but a young thing,
+ Just come frae her mammy."
+
+
+[13] This beautiful ballad was first printed, in 1791, in _The Bee_. It
+is adapted to an old and sweet air, to which, however, very puerile
+words were attached.
+
+
+
+
+OH, TELL ME HOW FOR TO WOO![14]
+
+TUNE--_"Bonnie Dundee."_
+
+
+ "Oh, tell me, bonnie young lassie!
+ Oh, tell me how for to woo!
+ Oh, tell me, bonnie sweet lassie!
+ Oh, tell me how for to woo!
+ Say, maun I roose your cheeks like the morning?
+ Lips, like the roses, fresh moisten'd wi' dew;
+ Say, maun I roose your een's pawkie scorning?
+ Oh, tell me how for to woo!
+
+ "Far hae I wander'd to see thee, dear lassie!
+ Far hae I ventured across the saut sea;
+ Far hae I travell'd ower moorland and mountain,
+ Houseless and weary, sleep'd cauld on the lea.
+ Ne'er hae I tried yet to mak love to onie,
+ For ne'er lo'ed I onie till ance I lo'ed you;
+ Now we 're alane in the green-wood sae bonnie--
+ Oh, tell me how for to woo!"
+
+ "What care I for your wand'ring, young laddie?
+ What care I for your crossing the sea?
+ It was na for naething ye left poor young Peggie;
+ It was for my tocher ye cam' to court me.
+ Say, hae ye gowd to busk me aye gaudie?
+ Ribbons, and perlins, and breast-knots enew?
+ A house that is canty, with wealth in 't, my laddie?
+ Without this ye never need try for to woo."
+
+ "I hae na gowd to busk ye aye gaudie;
+ I canna buy ribbons and perlins enew;
+ I 've naething to brag o' house, or o' plenty,
+ I 've little to gi'e, but a heart that is true.
+ I cam' na for tocher--I ne'er heard o' onie;
+ I never lo'ed Peggy, nor e'er brak my vow:
+ I 've wander'd, puir fule! for a face fause as bonnie:
+ I little thocht this was the way for to woo."
+
+ "Our laird has fine houses, and guineas o' gowd
+ He 's youthfu', he 's blooming, and comely to see.
+ The leddies are a' ga'en wud for the wooer,
+ And yet, ilka e'ening, he leaves them for me.
+ Oh, saft in the gloaming, his love he discloses!
+ And saftly, yestreen, as I milked my cow,
+ He swore that my breath it was sweeter than roses,
+ And a' the gait hame he did naething but woo."
+
+ "Ah, Jenny! the young laird may brag o' his siller,
+ His houses, his lands, and his lordly degree;
+ His speeches for _true love_ may drap sweet as honey,
+ But trust me, dear Jenny, he ne'er lo'ed like _me_.
+ The wooin' o' gentry are fine words o' fashion--
+ The faster they fa' as the heart is least true;
+ The dumb look o' love 's aft the best proof o' passion;
+ The heart that feels maist is the least fit to woo."
+
+ "Hae na ye roosed my cheeks like the morning?
+ Hae na ye roosed my cherry-red mou'?
+ Hae na ye come ower sea, moor, and mountain?
+ What mair, Johnnie, need ye to woo?
+ Far ye wander'd, I ken, my dear laddie;
+ Now that ye 've found me, there 's nae cause to rue;
+ Wi' health we 'll hae plenty--I 'll never gang gaudie;
+ I ne'er wish'd for mair than a heart that is true."
+
+ She hid her fair face in her true lover's bosom,
+ The saft tear o' transport fill'd ilk lover's e'e;
+ The burnie ran sweet by their side as they sabbit,
+ And sweet sang the mavis aboon on the tree.
+ He clasp'd her, he press'd her, and ca'd her his hinny;
+ And aften he tasted her honey-sweet mou';
+ And aye, 'tween ilk kiss, she sigh'd to her Johnnie,
+ "Oh, laddie! weel can ye woo."
+
+
+[14] Mr Graham, of Gartmore, an intimate friend of Hector Macneill,
+composed a song, having a similar burden, the chorus proceeding thus:--
+
+ "Then, tell me how to woo thee, love;
+ Oh, tell me how to woo thee!
+ For thy dear sake nae care I'll take,
+ Though ne'er another trow me."
+
+This was published by Sir Walter Scott, in the "Minstrelsy of the
+Scottish Border," as a production of the reign of Charles I.
+
+
+
+
+LASSIE WI' THE GOWDEN HAIR.
+
+
+ Lassie wi' the gowden hair,
+ Silken snood, and face sae fair;
+ Lassie wi' the yellow hair,
+ Thinkna to deceive me.
+ Lassie wi' the gowden hair,
+ Flattering smile, and face sae fair,
+ Fare ye weel! for never mair
+ Johnnie will believe ye.
+ Oh, no! Mary Bawn, Mary Bawn, Mary Bawn;
+ Oh, no! Mary Bawn, ye 'll nae mair deceive me.
+
+ Smiling, twice ye made me troo,
+ Twice, poor fool! I turn'd to woo;
+ Twice, fause maid! ye brak your vow;
+ Now I 've sworn to leave ye.
+ Twice, fause maid! ye brak your vow;
+ Twice, poor fool! I 've learn'd to rue;
+ Come ye yet to mak me troo?
+ Thrice ye 'll ne'er deceive me.
+ No, no! Mary Bawn, Mary Bawn, Mary Bawn;
+ Oh, no! Mary Bawn; thrice ye 'll ne'er deceive me.
+
+ Mary saw him turn to part;
+ Deep his words sank in her heart;
+ Soon the tears began to start--
+ "Johnnie, will ye leave me?"
+ Soon the tears began to start,
+ Grit and gritter grew his heart;
+ "Yet a word before we part,
+ Love could ne'er deceive ye.
+ Oh, no! Johnnie doo, Johnnie doo, Johnnie doo;
+ Oh, no! Johnnie doo--love could ne'er deceive ye."
+
+ Johnnie took a parting keek;
+ Saw the tears drap owre her cheek;
+ Pale she stood, but couldna speak--
+ Mary 's cured o' smiling.
+ Johnnie took anither keek--
+ Beauty's rose has left her cheek;
+ Pale she stands, and canna speak.
+ This is nae beguiling.
+ Oh, no! Mary Bawn, Mary Bawn, dear Mary Bawn;
+ Oh, no; Mary Bawn--love has nae beguiling.
+
+
+
+
+COME UNDER MY PLAIDIE.
+
+TUNE--_"Johnnie M'Gill."_
+
+
+ "Come under my plaidie, the night 's gaun to fa';
+ Come in frae the cauld blast, the drift, and the snaw;
+ Come under my plaidie, and sit down beside me,
+ There 's room in 't, dear lassie, believe me, for twa.
+ Come under my plaidie, and sit down beside me,
+ I 'll hap ye frae every cauld blast that can blaw:
+ Oh, come under my plaidie, and sit down beside me!
+ There 's room in 't, dear lassie, believe me, for twa."
+
+ "Gae 'wa wi' your plaidie, auld Donald, gae 'wa,
+ I fear na the cauld blast, the drift, nor the snaw;
+ Gae 'wa wi' your plaidie, I 'll no sit beside ye;
+ Ye may be my gutcher;--auld Donald, gae 'wa.
+ I 'm gaun to meet Johnnie, he 's young and he 's bonnie;
+ He 's been at Meg's bridal, fu' trig and fu' braw;
+ Oh, nane dances sae lightly, sae gracefu', sae tightly!
+ His cheek 's like the new rose, his brow 's like the snaw."
+
+ "Dear Marion, let that flee stick fast to the wa';
+ Your Jock 's but a gowk, and has naething ava;
+ The hale o' his pack he has now on his back--
+ He 's thretty, and I am but threescore and twa.
+ Be frank now and kindly; I 'll busk ye aye finely;
+ To kirk or to market they 'll few gang sae braw;
+ A bein house to bide in, a chaise for to ride in,
+ And flunkies to 'tend ye as aft as ye ca'."
+
+ "My father 's aye tauld me, my mither and a',
+ Ye 'd mak a gude husband, and keep me aye braw;
+ It 's true I lo'e Johnnie, he 's gude and he 's bonnie;
+ But, waes me! ye ken he has naething ava.
+ I hae little tocher; you 've made a gude offer;
+ I 'm now mair than twenty--my time is but sma';
+ Sae gi'e me your plaidie, I 'll creep in beside ye--
+ I thocht ye 'd been aulder than threescore and twa."
+
+ She crap in ayont him, aside the stane wa',
+ Whare Johnnie was list'ning, and heard her tell a';
+ The day was appointed, his proud heart it dunted,
+ And strack 'gainst his side as if bursting in twa.
+ He wander'd hame weary, the night it was dreary;
+ And, thowless, he tint his gate 'mang the deep snaw;
+ The owlet was screamin' while Johnnie cried, "Women
+ Wad marry Auld Nick if he 'd keep them aye braw."
+
+
+
+
+I LO'ED NE'ER A LADDIE BUT ANE.[15]
+
+
+ I lo'ed ne'er a laddie but ane,
+ He lo'ed ne'er a lassie but me;
+ He 's willing to mak' me his ain,
+ And his ain I am willing to be.
+ He has coft me a rokelay o' blue,
+ And a pair o' mittens o' green;
+ The price was a kiss o' my mou',
+ And I paid him the debt yestreen.
+
+ Let ithers brag weel o' their gear,
+ Their land and their lordly degree;
+ I carena for aught but my dear,
+ For he 's ilka thing lordly to me:
+ His words are sae sugar'd and sweet!
+ His sense drives ilk fear far awa'!
+ I listen, poor fool! and I greet;
+ Yet how sweet are the tears as they fa'!
+
+ "Dear lassie," he cries, wi' a jeer,
+ "Ne'er heed what the auld anes will say;
+ Though we 've little to brag o', near fear--
+ What 's gowd to a heart that is wae?
+ Our laird has baith honours and wealth,
+ Yet see how he 's dwining wi' care;
+ Now we, though we 've naething but health,
+ Are cantie and leal evermair.
+
+ "O Marion! the heart that is true,
+ Has something mair costly than gear!
+ Ilk e'en it has naething to rue,
+ Ilk morn it has naething to fear.
+ Ye warldlings! gae hoard up your store,
+ And tremble for fear aught ye tyne;
+ Guard your treasures wi' lock, bar, and door,
+ While here in my arms I lock mine!"
+
+ He ends wi' a kiss and a smile--
+ Wae 's me! can I tak' it amiss?
+ My laddie 's unpractised in guile,
+ He 's free aye to daut and to kiss!
+ Ye lasses wha lo'e to torment
+ Your wooers wi' fause scorn and strife,
+ Play your pranks--I hae gi'en my consent,
+ And this nicht I 'm Jamie's for life!
+
+
+[15] The first stanza of this song, along with a second, which is
+unsuitable for insertion, has been ascribed, on the authority of Burns,
+to the Rev. John Clunie, minister of Borthwick, in Mid-Lothian, who died
+in 1819, aged sixty-two. Ritson, however, by prefixing the letters "J.
+D." to the original stanza would seem to point to a different author.
+
+
+
+
+DONALD AND FLORA.[16]
+
+
+ I.
+
+ When merry hearts were gay,
+ Careless of aught but play,
+ Poor Flora slipt away,
+ Sadd'ning to Mora;[17]
+ Loose flow'd her yellow hair,
+ Quick heaved her bosom bare,
+ As to the troubled air
+ She vented her sorrow.
+
+
+ II.
+
+ "Loud howls the stormy wist,
+ Cold, cold is winter's blast;
+ Haste, then, O Donald, haste,
+ Haste to thy Flora!
+ Twice twelve long months are o'er,
+ Since on a foreign shore
+ You promised to fight no more,
+ But meet me in Mora."
+
+
+ III.
+
+ "'Where now is Donald dear?'
+ Maids cry with taunting sneer;
+ 'Say, is he still sincere
+ To his loved Flora?'
+ Parents upbraid my moan,
+ Each heart is turn'd to stone:
+ 'Ah, Flora! thou 'rt now alone,
+ Friendless in Mora!'
+
+
+ IV.
+
+ "Come, then, O come away!
+ Donald, no longer stay;
+ Where can my rover stray
+ From his loved Flora!
+ Ah! sure he ne'er can be
+ False to his vows and me;
+ Oh, Heaven!--is not yonder he,
+ Bounding o'er Mora!"
+
+
+ V.
+
+ "Never, ah! wretched fair!"
+ Sigh'd the sad messenger,
+ "Never shall Donald mair
+ Meet his loved Flora!
+ Cold as yon mountain snow
+ Donald thy love lies low;
+ He sent me to soothe thy woe,
+ Weeping in Mora.
+
+
+ VI.
+
+ "Well fought our gallant men
+ On Saratoga's plain;
+ Thrice fled the hostile train
+ From British glory.
+ But, ah! though our foes did flee,
+ Sad was such victory--
+ Truth, love, and loyalty
+ Fell far from Mora.
+
+
+ VII.
+
+ "'Here, take this love-wrought plaid,'
+ Donald, expiring, said;
+ 'Give it to yon dear maid
+ Drooping in Mora.
+ Tell her, O Allan! tell
+ Donald thus bravely fell,
+ And that in his last farewell
+ He thought on his Flora.'"
+
+
+ VIII.
+
+ Mute stood the trembling fair,
+ Speechless with wild despair;
+ Then, striking her bosom bare,
+ Sigh'd out, "Poor Flora!
+ Ah, Donald! ah, well-a-day!"
+ Was all the fond heart could say:
+ At length the sound died away
+ Feebly in Mora.
+
+
+[16] This fine ballad was written by Macneill, to commemorate the death
+of his friend, Captain Stewart, a brave officer, betrothed to a young
+lady in Athole, who, in 1777, fell at the battle of Saratoga, in
+America. The words, which are adapted to an old Gaelic air, appear with
+music in Smith's "Scottish Minstrel," vol. iii. p. 28. The ballad, in
+the form given above, has been improved in several of the stanzas by the
+author, on his original version, published in Johnson's "Museum." See
+the "Museum," vol. iv. p. 238.
+
+[17] Mora is the name of a small valley in Athole, so designated by the
+two lovers.
+
+
+
+
+MY LUVE'S IN GERMANY.[18]
+
+TUNE--_"Ye Jacobites by name."_
+
+
+ My luve 's in Germanie, send him hame, send him hame;
+ My luve 's in Germanie, send him hame;
+ My luve 's in Germanie,
+ Fighting brave for royalty:
+ He may ne'er his Jeanie see--
+ Send him hame.
+
+ He 's as brave as brave can be--send him hame, send him hame;
+ He 's as brave as brave can be--send him hame;
+ He 's as brave as brave can be,
+ He wad rather fa' than flee;
+ His life is dear to me--
+ Send him hame.
+
+ Your luve ne'er learnt to flee, bonnie dame, bonnie dame,
+ Your luve ne'er learnt to flee, bonnie dame;
+ Your luve ne'er learnt to flee,
+ But he fell in Germanie,
+ In the cause of royalty,
+ Bonnie dame.
+
+ He 'll ne'er come ower the sea--Willie 's slain, Willie 's slain;
+ He 'll ne'er come ower the sea--Willie 's gane!
+ He 'll ne'er come ower the sea,
+ To his love and ain countrie:
+ This warld 's nae mair for me--
+ Willie 's gane!
+
+
+[18] This song was originally printed on a single sheet, by N. Stewart
+and Co., Edinburgh, in 1794, as the lament of a lady on the death of an
+officer. It does not appear in Macneill's "Poetical Works," but he
+asserted to Mr Stenhouse his claims to the authorship.--Johnson's
+"Museum," vol. iv. p. 323.
+
+
+
+
+DINNA THINK, BONNIE LASSIE.[19]
+
+TUNE--_"Clunie's Reel."_
+
+
+ "Oh, dinna think, bonnie lassie, I 'm gaun to leave thee!
+ Dinna think, bonnie lassie, I 'm gaun to leave thee;
+ Dinna think, bonnie lassie, I 'm gaun to leave thee;
+ I 'll tak a stick into my hand, and come again and see thee."
+
+ "Far 's the gate ye hae to gang; dark 's the night, and eerie;
+ Far 's the gate ye hae to gang; dark 's the night, and eerie;
+ Far 's the gate ye hae to gang; dark 's the night, and eerie;
+ Oh, stay this night wi' your love, and dinna gang and leave me."
+
+ "It 's but a night and hauf a day that I 'll leave my dearie;
+ But a night and hauf a day that I 'll leave my dearie;
+ But a night and hauf a day that I 'll leave my dearie;
+ Whene'er the sun gaes west the loch, I 'll come again and see thee."
+
+ "Dinna gang, my bonnie lad, dinna gang and leave me;
+ Dinna gang, my bonnie lad, dinna gang and leave me;
+ When a' the lave are sound asleep, I 'm dull and eerie;
+ And a' the lee-lang night I 'm sad, wi' thinking on my dearie."
+
+ "Oh, dinna think, bonnie lassie, I 'm gaun to leave thee!
+ Dinna think, bonnie lassie, I 'm gaun to leave thee;
+ Dinna think, bonnie lassie, I 'm gaun to leave thee;
+ Whene'er the sun gaes out o' sight, I 'll come again and see thee."
+
+ "Waves are rising o'er the sea; winds blaw loud and fear me;
+ Waves are rising o'er the sea; winds blaw loud and fear me;
+ While the winds and waves do roar, I am wae and drearie;
+ And gin ye lo'e me as ye say, ye winna gang and leave me."
+
+ "Oh, never mair, bonnie lassie, will I gang and leave thee!
+ Never mair, bonnie lassie, will I gang and leave thee;
+ Never mair, bonnie lassie, will I gang and leave thee;
+ E'en let the world gang as it will, I 'll stay at hame and cheer ye."
+
+ Frae his hand he coost his stick; "I winna gang and leave thee;"
+ Threw his plaid into the neuk; "Never can I grieve thee;"
+ Drew his boots, and flang them by; cried, "My lass, be cheerie;
+ I 'll kiss the tear frae aff thy cheek, and never leave my dearie."
+
+
+[19] The last verse of this song was added by John Hamilton. The song,
+on account of this addition, was not included by Macneill in the
+collected edition of his "Poetical Works." One of Miss Blamire's songs
+has the same opening line; and it has been conjectured by Mr Maxwell,
+the editor of her poems, that Macneill had been indebted to her song for
+suggesting his verses.
+
+
+
+
+MRS GRANT OF LAGGAN.
+
+
+Mrs Anne Grant, commonly styled of Laggan, to distinguish her from her
+contemporary, Mrs Grant of Carron, was born at Glasgow, in February
+1755. Her father, Mr Duncan Macvicar, was an officer in the army, and,
+by her mother, she was descended from the old family of Stewart, of
+Invernahyle, in Argyllshire. Her early infancy was passed at
+Fort-William; but her father having accompanied his regiment to America,
+and there become a settler, in the State of New York, at a very tender
+age she was taken by her mother across the Atlantic, to her new home.
+Though her third year had not been completed when she arrived in
+America, she retained a distinct recollection of her landing at
+Charlestown. By her mother she was taught to read, and a well-informed
+serjeant made her acquainted with writing. Her precocity for learning
+was remarkable. Ere she had reached her sixth year, she had made herself
+familiar with the Old Testament, and could speak the Dutch language,
+which she had learned from a family of Dutch settlers. The love of
+poetry and patriotism was simultaneously evinced. At this early period,
+she read Milton's "Paradise Lost" with attention, and even
+appreciation; and glowed with the enthusiastic ardour of a young heroine
+over the adventures of Wallace, detailed in the metrical history of
+Henry, the Minstrel. Her juvenile talent attracted the notice of the
+more intelligent settlers in the State, and gained her the friendship of
+the distinguished Madame Schuyler, whose virtues she afterwards depicted
+in her "Memoirs of an American Lady."
+
+In 1768, along with his wife and daughter, Mr Macvicar returned to
+Scotland, his health having suffered by his residence in America; and,
+during the three following summers, his daughter found means of
+gratifying her love of song, on the banks of the Cart, near Glasgow. The
+family residence was now removed to Fort-Augustus, where Mr Macvicar had
+received the appointment of barrack-master. The chaplain of the fort was
+the Rev. James Grant, a young clergyman, related to several of the more
+respectable families in the district, who was afterwards appointed
+minister of the parish of Laggan, in Inverness-shire. At Fort-Augustus,
+he had recommended himself to the affections of Miss Macvicar, by his
+elegant tastes and accomplished manners, and he now became the
+successful suitor for her hand. They were married in 1779, and Mrs
+Grant, to approve herself a useful helpmate to her husband, began
+assiduously to acquaint herself with the manners and habits of the
+humbler classes of the people. The inquiries instituted at this period
+were turned to an account more extensive than originally contemplated.
+Mr Grant, who was constitutionally delicate, died in 1801, leaving his
+widow and eight surviving children without any means of support, his
+worldly circumstances being considerably embarrassed.
+
+On a small farm which she had rented, in the vicinity of her late
+husband's parish, Mrs Grant resided immediately subsequent to his
+decease; but the profits of the lease were evidently inadequate for the
+comfortable maintenance of the family. Among the circle of her friends
+she was known as a writer of verses; in her ninth year, she had essayed
+an imitation of Milton; and she had written poetry, or at least verses,
+on the banks of the Cart and at Fort-Augustus. To aid in supporting her
+family, she was strongly advised to collect her pieces into a volume;
+and, to encourage her in acting upon this recommendation, no fewer than
+three thousand subscribers were procured for the work by her friends.
+The celebrated Duchess of Gordon proved an especial promoter of the
+cause. In 1803, a volume of poems appeared from her pen, which, though
+displaying no high powers, was favourably received, and had the double
+advantage of making her known, and of materially aiding her finances.
+From the profits, she made settlement of her late husband's liabilities;
+and now perceiving a likelihood of being able to support her family by
+her literary exertions, she abandoned the lease of her farm. She took up
+her residence near the town of Stirling, residing in the mansion of
+Gartur, in that neighbourhood. In 1806, she again appeared before the
+public as an author, by publishing a selection of her correspondence
+with her friends, in three duodecimo volumes, under the designation of
+"Letters from the Mountains." This work passed through several editions.
+In 1808, Mrs Grant published the life of her early friend, Madame
+Schuyler, under the designation of "Memoirs of an American Lady," in two
+volumes.
+
+From the rural retirement of Gartur, she soon removed to the town of
+Stirling; but in 1810, as her circumstances became more prosperous, she
+took up her permanent abode in Edinburgh. Some distinguished literary
+characters of the Scottish capital now resorted to her society. She was
+visited by Sir Walter Scott, Francis Jeffrey, James Hogg, and others,
+attracted by the vivacity of her conversation. The "Essays on the
+Superstitions of the Highlanders of Scotland" appeared in 1811, in two
+volumes; in 1814, she published a metrical work, in two parts, entitled
+"Eighteen Hundred and Thirteen;" and, in the year following, she
+produced her "Popular Models and Impressive Warnings for the Sons and
+Daughters of Industry."
+
+In 1825, Mrs Grant received a civil-list pension of 50 a-year, in
+consideration of her literary talents, which, with the profits of her
+works and the legacies of several deceased friends, rendered the latter
+period of her life sufficiently comfortable in respect of pecuniary
+means. She died on the 7th of November 1838, in the eighty-fourth year
+of her age, and retaining her faculties to the last. A collection of her
+correspondence was published in 1844, in three volumes octavo, edited by
+her only surviving son, John P. Grant, Esq.
+
+As a writer, Mrs Grant occupies a respectable place. She had the happy
+art of turning her every-day observation, as well as the fruits of her
+research, to the best account. Her letters, which she published at the
+commencement of her literary career, as well as those which appeared
+posthumously, are favourable specimens of that species of composition.
+As a poet, she attained to no eminence. "The Highlanders," her longest
+and most ambitious poetical effort, exhibits some glowing descriptions
+of mountain scenery, and the stern though simple manners of the Gal. Of
+a few songs which proceed from her pen, that commencing, "Oh, where,
+tell me where?" written on the occasion of the Marquis of Huntly's
+departure for Holland with his regiment, in 1799, has only become
+generally known. It has been parodied in a song, by an unknown author,
+entitled "The Blue Bells of Scotland," which has obtained a wider range
+of popularity.
+
+
+
+
+OH, WHERE, TELL ME WHERE?
+
+
+ "Oh, where, tell me where, is your Highland laddie gone?
+ Oh, where, tell me where, is your Highland laddie gone?"
+ "He 's gone, with streaming banners, where noble deeds are done,
+ And my sad heart will tremble till he come safely home.
+ He 's gone, with streaming banners, where noble deeds are done,
+ And my sad heart will tremble till he come safely home."
+
+ "Oh, where, tell me where, did your Highland laddie stay?
+ Oh, where, tell me where, did your Highland laddie stay?"
+ "He dwelt beneath the holly-trees, beside the rapid Spey,
+ And many a blessing follow'd him, the day he went away.
+ He dwelt beneath the holly-trees, beside the rapid Spey,
+ And many a blessing follow'd him, the day he went away."
+
+ "Oh, what, tell me what, does your Highland laddie wear?
+ Oh, what, tell me what, does your Highland laddie wear?"
+ "A bonnet with a lofty plume, the gallant badge of war,
+ And a plaid across the manly breast that yet shall wear a star;
+ A bonnet with a lofty plume, the gallant badge of war,
+ And a plaid across the manly breast that yet shall wear a star."
+
+ "Suppose, ah, suppose, that some cruel, cruel wound,
+ Should pierce your Highland laddie, and all your hopes confound!"
+ "The pipe would play a cheering march, the banners round him fly;
+ The spirit of a Highland chief would lighten in his eye;
+ The pipe would play a cheering march, the banners round him fly,
+ And for his king and country dear with pleasure he would die!"
+
+ "But I will hope to see him yet, in Scotland's bonny bounds;
+ But I will hope to see him yet, in Scotland's bonny bounds.
+ His native land of liberty shall nurse his glorious wounds,
+ While, wide through all our Highland hills, his warlike name resounds;
+ His native land of liberty shall nurse his glorious wounds,
+ While, wide through all our Highland hills, his warlike name resounds."
+
+
+
+
+OH, MY LOVE, LEAVE ME NOT![20]
+
+AIR--_"Bealach na Gharraidh."_
+
+
+ Oh, my love, leave me not!
+ Oh, my love, leave me not!
+ Oh, my love, leave me not!
+ Lonely and weary.
+
+ Could you but stay a while,
+ And my fond fears beguile,
+ I yet once more could smile,
+ Lightsome and cheery.
+
+ Night, with her darkest shroud,
+ Tempests that roar aloud,
+ Thunders that burst the cloud,
+ Why should I fear ye?
+
+ Till the sad hour we part,
+ Fear cannot make me start;
+ Grief cannot break my heart
+ Whilst thou art near me.
+
+ Should you forsake my sight,
+ Day would to me be night;
+ Sad, I would shun its light,
+ Heartless and weary.
+
+
+[20] From Albyn's "Anthology," vol. i. p. 42. Edinburgh, 1816, 4to.
+
+
+
+
+JOHN MAYNE.
+
+
+John Mayne, chiefly known as the author of "The Siller Gun," a poem
+descriptive of burgher habits in Scotland towards the close of the
+century, was born at Dumfries, on the 26th of March 1759. At the grammar
+school of his native town, under Dr Chapman, the learned rector, whose
+memory he has celebrated in the third canto of his principal poem, he
+had the benefit of a respectable elementary education; and having chosen
+the profession of a printer, he entered at an early age the printing
+office of the _Dumfries Journal_. In 1782, when his parents removed to
+Glasgow, to reside on a little property to which they had succeeded, he
+sought employment under the celebrated Messrs Foulis, in whose printing
+establishment he continued during the five following years. He paid a
+visit to London in 1785, with the view of advancing his professional
+interests, and two years afterwards he settled in the metropolis.
+
+Mayne, while a mere stripling, was no unsuccessful wooer of the Muse;
+and in his sixteenth year he produced the germ of that poem on which his
+reputation chiefly depends. This production, entitled "The Siller Gun,"
+descriptive of a sort of _walkingshaw_, or an ancient practice which
+obtained in his native town, of shooting, on the king's birth-day, for a
+silver tube or gun, which had been presented by James VI. to the
+incorporated trades, as a prize to the best marksman, was printed at
+Dumfries in 1777, on a small quarto page. The original edition consisted
+of twelve stanzas; in two years it increased to two cantos; in 1780, it
+was printed in three cantos; in 1808, it was published in London with a
+fourth; and in 1836, just before his death, the author added a fifth.
+The latest edition was published by subscription, in an elegant
+duodecimo volume.
+
+In 1780, in the pages of Ruddiman's _Weekly Magazine_, Mayne published a
+short poem on "Halloween," which suggested Burns's celebrated poem on
+the same subject. In 1781, he published at Glasgow his song of "Logan
+Braes," of which Burns afterwards composed a new version.
+
+In London, Mayne was first employed as printer, and subsequently became
+joint-editor and proprietor, along with Dr Tilloch, of the _Star_
+evening newspaper. With this journal he retained a connexion till his
+death, which took place at London on the 14th of March 1836.
+
+Besides the humorous and descriptive poem of "The Siller Gun," which, in
+the opinion of Sir Walter Scott, surpasses the efforts of Ferguson, and
+comes near to those of Burns,[21] Mayne published another epic
+production, entitled "Glasgow," which appeared in 1803, and has passed
+through several editions. In the same year he published "English, Scots,
+and Irishmen," a chivalrous address to the population of the three
+kingdoms. To the literary journals, his contributions, both in prose and
+verse, were numerous and interesting. Many of his songs and ballads
+enriched the columns of the journal which he so long and ably conducted.
+In early life, he maintained a metrical correspondence with Thomas
+Telford, the celebrated engineer, who was a native of the same county,
+and whose earliest ambition was to earn the reputation of a poet.[22]
+
+Possessed of entire amiability of disposition, and the utmost amenity of
+manners, John Mayne was warmly beloved among the circle of his friends.
+Himself embued with a deep sense of religion, though fond of innocent
+humour, he preserved in all his writings a becoming respect for sound
+morals, and is entitled to the commendation which a biographer has
+awarded him, of having never committed to paper a single line "the
+tendency of which was not to afford innocent amusement, or to improve
+and increase the happiness of mankind." He was singularly modest and
+even retiring. His eulogy has been pronounced by Allan Cunningham, who
+knew him well, that "a better or warmer-hearted man never existed." The
+songs, of which we have selected the more popular, abound in vigour of
+expression and sentiment, and are pervaded by a genuine pathos.
+
+
+[21] See Note to "Lady of the Lake."
+
+[22] See the _Encyclopdia Britannica_, vol. xxi. p. 170.
+
+
+
+
+LOGAN BRAES.[23]
+
+
+ By Logan's streams, that rin sae deep,
+ Fu' aft wi' glee I've herded sheep,
+ I've herded sheep, or gather'd slaes,
+ Wi' my dear lad, on Logan braes.
+ But, waes my heart! thae days are gane,
+ And I wi' grief may herd alane;
+ While my dear lad maun face his faes,
+ Far, far frae me and Logan braes.
+
+ Nae mair at Logan kirk will he
+ Atween the preachings meet wi' me,
+ Meet wi' me, or, whan it's mirk,
+ Convoy me hame frae Logan kirk.
+ I weel may sing thae days are gane--
+ Frae kirk and fair I come alane,
+ While my dear lad maun face his faes,
+ Far, far frae me and Logan braes.
+
+ At e'en, when hope amaist is gane,
+ I daunder dowie and forlane;
+ I sit alane, beneath the tree
+ Where aft he kept his tryste wi' me.
+ Oh, could I see thae days again,
+ My lover skaithless, and my ain!
+ Beloved by friends, revered by faes,
+ We'd live in bliss on Logan braes.
+
+
+[23] This song originally consisted of two stanzas, the third stanza
+being subsequently added by the author. It is adapted to a beautiful old
+air, "Logan Water," incongruously connected with some indecorous
+stanzas. Burns deemed Mayne's version an elder production of the
+Scottish muse, and attempted to modernise the song, but his edition is
+decidedly inferior. Other four stanzas have been added, by some
+anonymous versifier, to Mayne's verses, which first appeared in Duncan's
+"Encyclopdia of Scottish, English, and Irish Songs," printed at Glasgow
+in 1836, 2 vols. 12mo. In those stanzas the lover is brought back to
+Logan braes, and consummates his union with his weeping shepherdess. The
+stream of Logan takes its rise among the hills separating the parishes
+of Lesmahago and Muirkirk, and, after a flow of eight miles, deposits
+its waters into the Nethan river.
+
+
+
+
+HELEN OF KIRKCONNEL.[24]
+
+
+ I wish I were where Helen lies,
+ For night and day on me she cries;
+ And, like an angel, to the skies
+ Still seems to beckon me!
+ For me she lived, for me she sigh'd,
+ For me she wish'd to be a bride;
+ For me in life's sweet morn she died
+ On fair Kirkconnel-Lee!
+
+ Where Kirtle waters gently wind,
+ As Helen on my arm reclined,
+ A rival with a ruthless mind
+ Took deadly aim at me.
+ My love, to disappoint the foe,
+ Rush'd in between me and the blow;
+ And now her corse is lying low,
+ On fair Kirkconnel-Lee!
+
+ Though Heaven forbids my wrath to swell,
+ I curse the hand by which she fell--
+ The fiend who made my heaven a hell,
+ And tore my love from me!
+ For if, when all the graces shine,
+ Oh! if on earth there 's aught divine,
+ My Helen! all these charms were thine,
+ They centred all in thee!
+
+ Ah! what avails it that, amain,
+ I clove the assassin's head in twain?
+ No peace of mind, my Helen slain,
+ No resting-place for me.
+ I see her spirit in the air--
+ I hear the shriek of wild despair,
+ When murder laid her bosom bare,
+ On fair Kirkconnel-Lee!
+
+ Oh! when I 'm sleeping in my grave,
+ And o'er my head the rank weeds wave,
+ May He who life and spirit gave
+ Unite my love and me!
+ Then from this world of doubts and sighs,
+ My soul on wings of peace shall rise,
+ And, joining Helen in the skies,
+ Forget Kirkconnel-Lee.
+
+
+[24] During the reign of Mary, Queen of Scots, a young lady, of great
+personal attractions and numerous accomplishments, named Helen Irving,
+daughter of Irving of Kirkconnel, in Annandale, was betrothed to Adam
+Fleming de Kirkpatrick, a young gentleman of fortune in the
+neighbourhood. Walking with her lover on the banks of the Kirtle, she
+was slain by a shot which had been aimed at Fleming by a disappointed
+rival. The melancholy history has been made the theme of three different
+ballads, two of these being old. The present ballad, by Mr Mayne, was
+inserted by Sir Walter Scott in the Edinburgh _Annual Register_ of 1815.
+
+
+
+
+THE WINTER SAT LANG.
+
+
+ The winter sat lang on the spring o' the year,
+ Our seedtime was late, and our mailing was dear;
+ My mither tint her heart when she look'd on us a',
+ And we thought upon those that were farest awa'.
+ Oh, were they but here that are farest awa'!
+ Oh, were they but here that are dear to us a'!
+ Our cares would seem light and our sorrow but sma',
+ If they were but here that are far frae us a'!
+
+ Last week, when our hopes were o'erclouded wi' fear,
+ And nae ane at hame the dull prospect to cheer;
+ Our Johnnie has written, frae far awa' parts,
+ A letter that lightens and hauds up our hearts.
+ He says, "My dear mither, though I be awa',
+ In love and affection I 'm still wi' ye a';
+ While I hae a being ye 'se aye hae a ha',
+ Wi' plenty to keep out the frost and the snaw."
+
+ My mither, o'erjoy'd at this change in her state,
+ By the bairn she doated on early and late,
+ Gi'es thanks night and day to the Giver of a',
+ There 's been naething unworthy o' him that 's awa'!
+ Then here is to them that are far frae us a',
+ The friend that ne'er fail'd us, though farest awa'!
+ Health, peace, and prosperity wait on us a';
+ And a blithe comin' hame to the friend that 's awa'!
+
+
+
+
+MY JOHNNIE.
+
+AIR--_"Johnnie's Gray Breeks."_
+
+
+ Jenny's heart was frank and free,
+ And wooers she had mony, yet
+ The sang was aye, "Of a' I see,
+ Commend me to my Johnnie yet.
+ For ear' and late, he has sic gate
+ To mak' a body cheerie, that
+ I wish to be, before I dee,
+ His ain kind dearie yet."
+
+ Now Jenny's face was fu' o' grace,
+ Her shape was sma' and genty-like,
+ And few or nane in a' the place,
+ Had gowd or gear mair plenty, yet
+ Though war's alarms, and Johnnie's charms,
+ Had gart her oft look eerie, yet
+ She sung wi' glee, "I hope to be
+ My Johnnie's ain dearie yet.
+
+ "What though he's now gane far awa',
+ Whare guns and cannons rattle, yet
+ Unless my Johnnie chance to fa'
+ In some uncanny battle, yet
+ Till he return my breast will burn
+ Wi' love that weel may cheer me yet,
+ For I hope to see, before I dee,
+ His bairns to him endear me yet."
+
+
+
+
+THE TROOPS WERE EMBARKED.
+
+
+ The troops were all embark'd on board,
+ The ships were under weigh,
+ And loving wives, and maids adored,
+ Were weeping round the bay.
+
+ They parted from their dearest friends,
+ From all their heart desires;
+ And Rosabel to Heaven commends
+ The man her soul admires!
+
+ For him she fled from soft repose,
+ Renounced a parent's care;
+ He sails to crush his country's foes,
+ She wanders in despair!
+
+ A seraph in an infant's frame
+ Reclined upon her arm;
+ And sorrow in the lovely dame
+ Now heighten'd every charm:
+
+ She thought, if fortune had but smiled--
+ She thought upon her dear;
+ But when she look'd upon his child,
+ Oh, then ran many a tear!
+
+ "Ah! who will watch thee as thou sleep'st?
+ Who 'll sing a lullaby,
+ Or rock thy cradle when thou weep'st,
+ If I should chance to die?"
+
+ On board the ship, resign'd to fate,
+ Yet planning joys to come,
+ Her love in silent sorrow sate
+ Upon a broken drum.
+
+ He saw her lonely on the beach;
+ He saw her on the strand;
+ And far as human eye can reach
+ He saw her wave her hand!
+
+ "O Rosabel! though forced to go,
+ With thee my soul shall dwell,
+ And Heaven, who pities human woe,
+ Will comfort Rosabel!"
+
+
+
+
+JOHN HAMILTON.
+
+
+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]
+
+
+ Cauld blaws the wind frae north to south;
+ The drift is drifting sairly;
+ The sheep are cow'rin' in the heuch;
+ Oh, sirs, it 's winter fairly!
+ Now, up in the mornin's no for me,
+ Up in the mornin' early;
+ I'd rather gae supperless to my bed
+ Than rise in the mornin' early.
+
+ Loud roars the blast amang the woods,
+ And tirls the branches barely;
+ On hill and house hear how it thuds!
+ The frost is nippin' sairly.
+ Now, up in the mornin's no for me,
+ Up in the mornin' early;
+ To sit a' nicht wad better agree
+ Than rise in the mornin' early.
+
+ The sun peeps ower yon southland hills,
+ Like ony timorous carlie;
+ Just blinks a wee, then sinks again;
+ And that we find severely.
+ Now, up in the mornin's no for me,
+ Up in the mornin' early;
+ When snaw blaws in at the chimley cheek,
+ Wha 'd rise in the mornin' early?
+
+ Nae linties lilt on hedge or bush:
+ Poor things! they suffer sairly;
+ In cauldrife quarters a' the nicht,
+ A' day they feed but sparely.
+ Now, up in the mornin's no for me,
+ Up in the mornin' early;
+ A pennyless purse I wad rather dree,
+ Than rise in the mornin' early.
+
+ A cosie house and canty wife
+ Aye keep a body cheerly;
+ And pantries stowed wi' meat and drink,
+ They answer unco rarely.
+ But up in the mornin'--na, na, na!
+ Up in the mornin' early!
+ The gowans maun glint on bank and brae
+ When I rise in the mornin' early.
+
+
+[25] Burns composed two verses to the same tune, which is very old. It
+was a favourite of Queen Mary, the consort of William III. In his
+"Beggar's Opera," Gay has adopted the tune for one of his songs. It was
+published, in 1652, by John Hilton, as the third voice to what is called
+a "Northern Catch" for three voices, beginning--"I'se gae wi' thee, my
+sweet Peggy."
+
+
+
+
+GO TO BERWICK, JOHNNIE.[26]
+
+
+ Go to Berwick, Johnnie;
+ Bring her frae the Border;
+ Yon sweet bonnie lassie,
+ Let her gae nae farther.
+ English loons will twine ye
+ O' the lovely treasure;
+ But we 'll let them ken
+ A sword wi' them we 'll measure.
+
+ Go to Berwick, Johnnie,
+ And regain your honour;
+ Drive them ower the Tweed,
+ And show our Scottish banner.
+ I am Rob, the King,
+ And ye are Jock, my brither;
+ But, before we lose her,
+ We 'll a' there thegither.
+
+
+[26] These stanzas are founded on some lines of old doggerel,
+beginning--
+
+ "Go, go, go,
+ Go to Berwick, Johnnie;
+ Thou shalt have the horse,
+ And I shall have the pony."
+
+
+
+
+
+
+MISS FORBES' FAREWELL TO BANFF.
+
+
+ Farewell, ye fields an' meadows green!
+ The blest retreats of peace an' love;
+ Aft have I, silent, stolen from hence,
+ With my young swain a while to rove.
+ Sweet was our walk, more sweet our talk,
+ Among the beauties of the spring;
+ An' aft we 'd lean us on a bank,
+ To hear the feather'd warblers sing.
+
+ The azure sky, the hills around,
+ Gave double beauty to the scene;
+ The lofty spires of Banff in view--
+ On every side the waving grain.
+ The tales of love my Jamie told,
+ In such a saft an' moving strain,
+ Have so engaged my tender heart,
+ I 'm loth to leave the place again.
+
+ But if the Fates will be sae kind
+ As favour my return once more,
+ For to enjoy the peace of mind
+ In those retreats I had before:
+ Now, farewell, Banff! the nimble steeds
+ Do bear me hence--I must away;
+ Yet time, perhaps, may bring me back,
+ To part nae mair from scenes so gay.
+
+
+
+
+TELL ME, JESSIE, TELL ME WHY?
+
+
+ Tell me, Jessie, tell me why
+ My fond suit you still deny?
+ Is your bosom cold as snow?
+ Did you never feel for woe?
+ Can you hear, without a sigh,
+ Him complain who for you could die?
+ If you ever shed a tear,
+ Hear me, Jessie, hear, O hear!
+
+ Life to me is not more dear
+ Than the hour brings Jessie here;
+ Death so much I do not fear
+ As the parting moment near.
+ Summer smiles are not so sweet
+ As the bloom upon your cheek;
+ Nor the crystal dew so clear
+ As your eyes to me appear.
+
+ These are part of Jessie's charms,
+ Which the bosom ever warms;
+ But the charms by which I 'm stung,
+ Come, O Jessie, from thy tongue!
+ Jessie, be no longer coy;
+ Let me taste a lover's joy;
+ With your hand remove the dart,
+ And heal the wound that 's in my heart.
+
+
+
+
+THE HAWTHORN.
+
+
+ Last midsummer's morning, as going to the fair,
+ I met with young Jamie, wh'as taking the air;
+ He ask'd me to stay with him, and indeed he did prevail,
+ Beneath the pretty hawthorn that blooms in the vale--
+ That blooms in the valley, that blooms in the vale,
+ Beneath the pretty hawthorn that blooms in the vale.
+
+ He said he had loved me both long and sincere,
+ That none on the green was so gentle and fair;
+ I listen'd with pleasure to Jamie's tender tale,
+ Beneath the pretty hawthorn that blooms in the vale--
+ That blooms in the valley, &c.
+
+ "Oh, haste," says he, "to hear the birds in the grove,
+ How charming their song, and enticing to love!
+ The briers that with roses perfume the passing gale,
+ And meet the pretty hawthorn that blooms in the vale"--
+ That blooms in the valley, &c.
+
+ His words were so moving, and looks soft and kind,
+ Convinced me the youth had nae guile in his mind;
+ My heart, too, confess'd him the flower of the dale,
+ Beneath the pretty hawthorn that blooms in the vale--
+ That blooms in the valley, &c.
+
+ Yet I oft bade him go, for I could no longer stay,
+ But leave me he would not, nor let me away;
+ Still pressing his suit, and at last did prevail,
+ Beneath the pretty hawthorn that blooms in the vale--
+ That blooms in the valley, &c.
+
+ Now tell me, ye maidens, how could I refuse?
+ His words were so sweet, and so binding his vows!
+ We went and were married, and Jamie loves me still,
+ And we live beside the hawthorn that blooms in the vale--
+ That blooms in the valley, that blooms in the vale,
+ We live beside the hawthorn that blooms in the vale.
+
+
+
+
+OH, BLAW, YE WESTLIN' WINDS![27]
+
+
+ Oh, blaw, ye westlin' winds, blaw saft
+ Amang the leafy trees!
+ Wi' gentle gale, frae muir and dale,
+ Bring hame the laden bees;
+ And bring the lassie back to me,
+ That 's aye sae neat and clean;
+ Ae blink of her wad banish care,
+ Sae lovely is my Jean.
+
+ What sighs and vows, amang the knowes,
+ Hae pass'd atween us twa!
+ How fain to meet, how wae to part,
+ That day she gaed awa'!
+ The Powers aboon can only ken,
+ To whom the heart is seen,
+ That nane can be sae dear to me
+ As my sweet, lovely Jean.
+
+
+[27] These verses were written as a continuation to Burns's "Of a' the
+airts the wind can blaw." Other two stanzas were added to the same song
+by W. Reid.--See _postea_.
+
+
+
+
+JOANNA BAILLIE.
+
+
+Joanna Baillie was born on the 11th of September 1762, in the manse of
+Bothwell, in Lanarkshire. Her father, Dr James Baillie, was descended
+from the old family of Baillie of Lamington, and was consequently
+entitled to claim propinquity with the distinguished Principal Robert
+Baillie, and the family of Baillie of Jerviswood, so celebrated for its
+Christian patriotism. The mother of Joanna likewise belonged to an
+honourable house: she was a descendant of the Hunters of Hunterston; and
+her two brothers attained a wide reputation in the world of science--Dr
+William Hunter being an eminent physician, and Mr John Hunter the
+greatest anatomist of his age. Joanna--a twin, the other child being
+still-born--was the youngest of a family of three children. Her only
+brother was Dr Matthew Baillie, highly distinguished in the medical
+world. Agnes, her sister, who was eldest of the family, remained
+unmarried, and continued to live with her under the same roof.
+
+In the year 1768, Dr Baillie was transferred from the parochial charge
+of Bothwell to the office of collegiate minister of Hamilton,--a town
+situate, like his former parish, on the banks of the Clyde. He was
+subsequently elected Professor of Divinity in the University of
+Glasgow. After his death, which took place in 1778, his daughters both
+continued, along with their widowed mother, to live at Long Calderwood,
+in the vicinity of Hamilton, until 1784, when they all accepted an
+invitation to reside with Dr Matthew Baillie, who had entered on his
+medical career in London, and had become possessor of a house in Great
+Windmill Street, built by his now deceased uncle, Dr Hunter.
+
+Though evincing no peculiar promptitude in the acquisition of learning,
+Joanna had, at the very outset of life, exhibited remarkable talent in
+rhyme-making. She composed verses before she could read, and, before she
+could have fancied a theatre, formed dialogues for dramatic
+representations, which she carried on with her companions. But she did
+not early seek distinction as an author. At the somewhat mature age of
+twenty-eight, after she had gone to London, she first published, and
+that anonymously, a volume of miscellaneous poems, which did not excite
+any particular attention. In 1798, she published, though anonymously at
+first, "A Series of Plays: in which it is attempted to delineate the
+stronger Passions of the Mind, each Passion being the subject of a
+Tragedy and a Comedy." In a lengthened preliminary dissertation, she
+discoursed regarding the drama in all its relations, maintaining the
+ascendency of simple nature over every species of adornment and
+decoration. "Let one simple trait of the human heart, one expression of
+passion, genuine and true to nature," she wrote, "be introduced, and it
+will stand forth alone in the boldness of reality, whilst the false and
+unnatural around it fades away upon every side, like the rising
+exhalations of the morning." The reception of these plays was sufficient
+to satisfy the utmost ambition of the author, and established the
+foundation of her fame. "Nothing to compare with them had been produced
+since the great days of the English drama; and the truth, vigour,
+variety, and dignity of the dramatic portraits, in which they abound,
+might well justify an enthusiasm which a reader of the present day can
+scarcely be expected to feel. This enthusiasm was all the greater, when
+it became known that these remarkable works, which had been originally
+published anonymously, were from the pen of a woman still young, who had
+passed her life in domestic seclusion."[28] Encouraged by the success of
+the first volume of her dramas on the "Passions," the author added a
+second in 1802, and a third in 1812. During the interval, she published
+a volume of miscellaneous dramas in 1804, and produced the "Family
+Legend" in 1810,--a tragedy, founded upon a Highland tradition. With a
+prologue by Sir Walter Scott, and an epilogue by Henry Mackenzie, the
+"Family Legend" was produced at the Edinburgh theatre, under the
+auspices of the former illustrious character; and was ably supported by
+Mrs Siddons, and by Terry, then at the commencement of his career. It
+was favourably received during ten successive performances. "You have
+only to imagine all that you could wish to give success to a play,"
+wrote Sir Walter Scott to the author, "and your conceptions will still
+fall short of the complete and decided triumph of the 'Family Legend.'
+The house was crowded to a most extraordinary degree; many people had
+come from your native capital of the west; everything that pretended to
+distinction, whether from rank or literature, was in the boxes; and in
+the pit, such an aggregate mass of humanity as I have seldom, if ever,
+witnessed in the same space." Other two of her plays, "Count Basil" and
+"De Montfort," brought out in London, the latter being sustained by
+Kemble and Siddons, likewise received a large measure of general
+approbation; but a want of variety of incident prevented their retaining
+a position on the stage. In 1836, she produced three additional volumes
+of dramas; her career as a dramatic writer thus extending over the
+period of nearly forty years.
+
+Subsequent to her leaving Scotland, in 1784, Joanna Baillie did not
+return to her native kingdom, unless on occasional visits. On the
+marriage of her brother to a sister of the Lord Chief-Justice Denman, in
+1791, she passed some years at Colchester; but she subsequently fixed
+her permanent habitation at Hampstead. Her mother died in 1806. At
+Hampstead, in the companionship of her only sister, whose virtues she
+has celebrated in one of her poems, and amidst the society of many of
+the more distinguished literary characters of the metropolis, she
+continued to enjoy a large amount of comfort and happiness. Her
+pecuniary means were sufficiently abundant, and rendered her entirely
+independent of the profits of her writings. Among her literary friends,
+one of the most valued was Sir Walter Scott, who, being introduced to
+her personal acquaintance on his visit to London in 1806, maintained
+with her an affectionate and lasting intimacy. The letters addressed to
+her are amongst the most interesting of his correspondence in his Memoir
+by his son-in-law. He evinced his estimation of her genius by frequently
+complimenting her in his works. In his "Epistle to William Erskine,"
+which forms the introduction to the third canto of "Marmion," he thus
+generously eulogises his gifted friend:--
+
+ "Or, if to touch such chord be thine,
+ Restore the ancient tragic line,
+ And emulate the notes that wrung
+ From the wild harp, which silent hung
+ By silver Avon's holy shore,
+ Till twice a hundred years roll'd o'er;
+ When she, the bold Enchantress, came,
+ With fearless hand and heart on flame!
+ From the pale willow snatch'd the treasure,
+ And swept it with a kindred measure,
+ Till Avon's swans, while rung the grove
+ With Montfort's hate and Basil's love,
+ Awakening at the inspird strain,
+ Deem'd their own Shakspeare lived again."
+
+To Joanna, Scott inscribed his fragmental drama of "Macduff's Cross,"
+which was included in a Miscellany published by her in 1823.
+
+Though a penury of incident, and a defectiveness of skill in sustaining
+an increasing interest to the close, will probably prevent any of her
+numerous plays from being renewed on the stage, Joanna Baillie is well
+entitled to the place assigned her as one of the first of modern
+dramatists. In all her plays there are passages and scenes surpassed by
+no contemporaneous dramatic writer. Her works are a magazine of eloquent
+thoughts and glowing descriptions. She is a mistress of the emotions,
+and
+
+ "Within _her_ mighty page,
+ Each tyrant passion shews his woe and rage."
+
+The tragedies of "Count Basil" and "De Montfort" are her best plays, and
+are well termed by Sir Walter Scott a revival of the great Bard of Avon.
+Forcible and energetic in style, her strain never becomes turgid or
+diverges into commonplace. She is masculine, but graceful; and powerful
+without any ostentation of strength. Her personal history was the
+counterpart of her writings. Gentle in manners and affable in
+conversation, she was a model of the household virtues, and would have
+attracted consideration as a woman by her amenities, though she had
+possessed no reputation in the world of letters. She was eminently
+religious and benevolent. Her countenance bore indication of a superior
+intellect and deep penetration. Though her society was much cherished by
+her contemporaries, including distinguished foreigners who visited the
+metropolis, her life was spent in general retirement. She was averse to
+public demonstration, and seemed scarcely conscious of her power. She
+died at Hampstead, on the 23d of February 1851, at the very advanced age
+of eighty-nine, and a few weeks after the publication of her whole Works
+in a collected form.
+
+The songs of Joanna Baillie immediately obtained an honourable place in
+the minstrelsy of her native kingdom. They are the simple and graceful
+effusions of a heart passionately influenced by the melodies of the
+"land of the heath and the thistle," and animated by those warm
+affections so peculiarly nurtured in the region of "the mountain and the
+flood." "Fy, let us a' to the wedding," "Saw ye Johnnie comin'?" "It
+fell on a morning when we were thrang," and "Woo'd, and married, and
+a'," maintain popularity among all classes of Scotsmen throughout the
+world. Several of the songs were written for Thomson's "Melodies," and
+"The Harp of Caledonia," a collection of songs published at Glasgow in
+1821, in three vols. 12mo, under the editorial care of John Struthers,
+author of "The Poor Man's Sabbath." The greater number are included in
+the present work.
+
+
+[28] _Literary Gazette_, March 1851.
+
+
+
+
+THE MAID OF LLANWELLYN.
+
+
+ I 've no sheep on the mountain, nor boat on the lake,
+ Nor coin in my coffer to keep me awake,
+ Nor corn in my garner, nor fruit on my tree--
+ Yet the maid of Llanwellyn smiles sweetly on me.
+
+ Soft tapping, at eve, to her window I came,
+ And loud bay'd the watch-dog, loud scolded the dame;
+ For shame, silly Lightfoot; what is it to thee,
+ Though the maid of Llanwellyn smiles sweetly on me?
+
+ Rich Owen will tell you, with eyes full of scorn,
+ Threadbare is my coat, and my hosen are torn:
+ Scoff on, my rich Owen, for faint is thy glee
+ When the maid of Llanwellyn smiles sweetly on me.
+
+ The farmer rides proudly to market or fair,
+ The clerk, at the alehouse, still claims the great chair;
+ But of all our proud fellows the proudest I 'll be,
+ While the maid of Llanwellyn smiles sweetly on me.
+
+ For blythe as the urchin at holiday play,
+ And meek as the matron in mantle of gray,
+ And trim as the lady of gentle degree,
+ Is the maid of Llanwellyn who smiles upon me.
+
+
+
+
+GOOD NIGHT, GOOD NIGHT!
+
+
+ The sun is sunk, the day is done,
+ E'en stars are setting one by one;
+ Nor torch nor taper longer may
+ Eke out the pleasures of the day;
+ And since, in social glee's despite,
+ It needs must be, Good night, good night!
+
+ The bride into her bower is sent,
+ And ribbald rhyme and jesting spent;
+ The lover's whisper'd words and few
+ Have bade the bashful maid adieu;
+ The dancing-floor is silent quite--
+ No foot bounds there, Good night, good night!
+
+ The lady in her curtain'd bed,
+ The herdsman in his wattled shed,
+ The clansman in the heather'd hall,
+ Sweet sleep be with you, one and all!
+ We part in hope of days as bright
+ As this now gone--Good night, good night!
+
+ Sweet sleep be with us, one and all!
+ And if upon its stillness fall
+ The visions of a busy brain,
+ We 'll have our pleasure o'er again;
+ To warm the heart, to charm the sight,
+ Gay dreams to all! Good night, good night!
+
+
+
+
+THOUGH RICHER SWAINS THY LOVE PURSUE.
+
+
+ Though richer swains thy love pursue,
+ In Sunday gear and bonnets new;
+ And every fair before thee lay
+ Their silken gifts, with colours gay--
+ They love thee not, alas! so well
+ As one who sighs, and dare not tell;
+ Who haunts thy dwelling, night and noon,
+ In tatter'd hose and clouted shoon.
+
+ I grieve not for my wayward lot,
+ My empty folds, my roofless cot;
+ Nor hateful pity, proudly shown,
+ Nor altered looks, nor friendship flown;
+ Nor yet my dog, with lanken sides,
+ Who by his master still abides;
+ But how wilt thou prefer my boon,
+ In tatter'd hose and clouted shoon?
+
+
+
+
+POVERTY PARTS GUDE COMPANIE.[29]
+
+AIR--_"Todlin' Hame."_
+
+
+ When white was my owrelay as foam of the linn,
+ And siller was chinking my pouches within;
+ When my lambkins were bleating on meadow and brae,
+ As I gaed to my love in new cleeding sae gay--
+ Kind was she, and my friends were free;
+ But poverty parts gude companie.
+
+ How swift pass'd the minutes and hours of delight!
+ The piper play'd cheerly, the cruisie burn'd bright;
+ And link'd in my hand was the maiden sae dear,
+ As she footed the floor in her holiday gear.
+ Woe is me! and can it then be,
+ That poverty parts sic companie?
+
+ We met at the fair, and we met at the kirk;
+ We met in the sunshine, we met in the mirk;
+ And the sound of her voice, and the blinks of her een,
+ The cheering and life of my bosom have been.
+ Leaves frae the tree at Martinmas flee,
+ And poverty parts sweet companie.
+
+ At bridal and in fair I 've braced me wi' pride,
+ The _bruse_ I hae won, and a kiss of the bride;
+ And loud was the laughter, gay fellows among,
+ When I utter'd my banter, or chorus'd my song.
+ Dowie to dree are jesting and glee,
+ When poverty parts gude companie.
+
+ Wherever I gaed the blythe lasses smiled sweet,
+ And mithers and aunties were mair than discreet,
+ While kebbuck and bicker were set on the board;
+ But now they pass by me, and never a word.
+ So let it be; for the worldly and slie
+ Wi' poverty keep nae companie.
+
+ But the hope of my love is a cure for its smart;
+ The spaewife has tauld me to keep up my heart;
+ For wi' my last sixpence her loof I hae cross'd,
+ And the bliss that is fated can never be lost.
+ Cruelly though we ilka day see
+ How poverty parts dear companie.
+
+
+[29] This song was written for Thomson's "Melodies." "Todlin' Hame," the
+air to which it is adapted, appears in Ramsay's "Tea-Table Miscellany"
+as an old song. The words begin--"When I hae a saxpence under my thum."
+Burns remarks that "it is perhaps one of the first bottle-songs that
+ever was composed."
+
+
+
+
+FY, LET US A' TO THE WEDDING.[30]
+
+
+ Fy, let us a' to the wedding,
+ For they will be lilting there;
+ For Jock's to be married to Maggie,
+ The lass wi' the gowden hair.
+ And there will be jilting and jeering,
+ And glancing of bonnie dark een;
+ Loud laughing and smooth-gabbit speering
+ O' questions, baith pawky and keen.
+
+ And there will be Bessy, the beauty,
+ Wha raises her cock-up sae hie,
+ And giggles at preachings and duty;
+ Gude grant that she gang nae ajee!
+ And there will be auld Geordie Tanner,
+ Wha coft a young wife wi' his gowd;
+ She 'll flaunt wi' a silk gown upon her,
+ But, wow! he looks dowie and cowed.
+
+ And braw Tibby Fowler, the heiress,
+ Will perk at the top o' the ha',
+ Encircled wi' suitors, whase care is
+ To catch up the gloves when they fa'.
+ Repeat a' her jokes as they 're cleckit,
+ And haver and glower in her face,
+ When tocherless Mays are negleckit--
+ A crying and scandalous case.
+
+ And Mysie, whase clavering aunty
+ Wad match her wi' Jamie, the laird;
+ And learns the young fouk to be vaunty,
+ But neither to spin nor to caird.
+ And Andrew, whase granny is yearning
+ To see him a clerical blade,
+ Was sent to the college for learning,
+ And cam' back a coof, as he gaed.
+
+ And there will be auld Widow Martin,
+ That ca's hersel' thretty and twa!
+ And thrawn-gabbit Madge, wha for certain
+ Was jilted by Hab o' the Shaw.
+ And Elspy, the sewster, sae genty--
+ A pattern of havens and sense--
+ Will straik on her mittens sae dainty,
+ And crack wi' Mess John in the spence.
+
+ And Angus, the seer o' ferlies,
+ That sits on the stane at his door,
+ And tells about bogles, and mair lies
+ Than tongue ever utter'd before.
+ And there will be Bauldy, the boaster,
+ Sae ready wi' hands and wi' tongue;
+ Proud Paty and silly Sam Foster,
+ Wha quarrel wi' auld and wi' young.
+
+ And Hugh, the town-writer, I 'm thinking,
+ That trades in his lawyerly skill,
+ Will egg on the fighting and drinking,
+ To bring after grist to his mill.
+ And Maggie--na, na! we 'll be civil,
+ And let the wee bridie abee;
+ A vilipend tongue it is evil,
+ And ne'er was encouraged by me.
+
+ Then fy, let us a' to the wedding,
+ For they will be lilting there,
+ Frae mony a far-distant ha'ding,
+ The fun and the feasting to share.
+ For they will get sheep's-head and haggis,
+ And browst o' the barley-mow;
+ E'en he that comes latest and lagis
+ May feast upon dainties enow.
+
+ Veal florentines, in the o'en baken,
+ Weel plenish'd wi' raisins and fat;
+ Beef, mutton, and chuckies, a' taken
+ Het reekin' frae spit and frae pat.
+ And glasses (I trow 'tis nae said ill)
+ To drink the young couple gude luck,
+ Weel fill'd wi' a braw beechen ladle,
+ Frae punch-bowl as big as Dumbuck.
+
+ And then will come dancing and daffing,
+ And reelin' and crossin' o' han's,
+ Till even auld Lucky is laughing,
+ As back by the aumry she stan's.
+ Sic bobbing, and flinging, and whirling,
+ While fiddlers are making their din;
+ And pipers are droning and skirling,
+ As loud as the roar o' the linn.
+
+ Then fy, let us a' to the wedding,
+ For they will be lilting there;
+ For Jock 's to be married to Maggie,
+ The lass wi' the gowden hair.
+
+
+[30] This song is a new version of "The Blythesome Bridal," beginning,
+"Fy, let us a' to the bridal," which first appeared in Watson's
+Collection, in 1706, and of which the authorship was generally assigned
+to Francis Semple of Beltrees, in Renfrewshire, who lived in the middle
+of the seventeenth century, though more recently it has been attributed
+to Sir William Scott of Thirlestane, in Selkirkshire, who flourished in
+the beginning of last century. The words of the original song are
+coarse, but humorous.
+
+
+
+
+HOOLY AND FAIRLY.[31]
+
+
+ Oh, neighbours! what had I to do for to marry?
+ My wife she drinks posset and wine o' Canary;
+ And ca's me a niggardly, thrawn-gabbit cairly.
+ O gin my wife wad drink hooly and fairly!
+ Hooly and fairly, hooly and fairly;
+ O gin my wife wad drink hooly and fairly!
+
+ She sups, wi' her kimmers, on dainties enow,
+ Aye bowing, and smirking, and wiping her mou';
+ While I sit aside, and am helpit but sparely.
+ O gin my wife wad feast hooly and fairly!
+ Hooly and fairly, hooly and fairly;
+ O gin my wife wad feast hooly and fairly!
+
+ To fairs, and to bridals, and preachings an' a',
+ She gangs sae light-headed, and buskit sae braw,
+ In ribbons and mantuas, that gar me gae barely.
+ O gin my wife wad spend hooly and fairly!
+ Hooly and fairly, hooly and fairly;
+ O gin my wife wad spend hooly and fairly!
+
+ I' the kirk sic commotion last Sabbath she made,
+ Wi' babs o' red roses, and breast-knots o'erlaid;
+ The dominie stickit the psalm very nearly.
+ O gin my wife wad dress hooly and fairly!
+ Hooly and fairly, hooly and fairly;
+ O gin my wife wad dress hooly and fairly!
+
+ She 's warring and flyting frae mornin' till e'en,
+ And if ye gainsay her, her een glower sae keen;
+ Then tongue, neive, and cudgel, she 'll lay on me sairly.
+ O gin my wife wad strike hooly and fairly!
+ Hooly and fairly, hooly and fairly;
+ O gin my wife wad strike hooly and fairly!
+
+ When tired wi' her cantrips, she lies in her bed--
+ The wark a' negleckit, the chalmer unred--
+ While a' our gude neighbours are stirring sae early.
+ O gin my wife wad wark timely and fairly!
+ Timely and fairly, timely and fairly;
+ O gin my wife wad wark timely and fairly!
+
+ A word o' gude counsel or grace she 'll hear none;
+ She bandies the elders, and mocks at Mess John;
+ While back in his teeth his own text she flings sairly.
+ O gin my wife wad speak hooly and fairly!
+ Hooly and fairly, hooly and fairly;
+ O gin my wife wad speak hooly and fairly!
+
+ I wish I were single, I wish I were freed;
+ I wish I were doited, I wish I were dead;
+ Or she in the mouls, to dement me nae mairly.
+ What does it 'vail to cry, Hooly and fairly!
+ Hooly and fairly, hooly and fairly;
+ Wasting my health to cry, Hooly and fairly.
+
+
+[31] The style of this song and the chorus are borrowed from "The
+Drucken Wife o' Gallowa'," a song which first appeared in the "Charmer,"
+a collection of songs, published at Edinburgh in 1751, but the
+authorship of which is unknown.
+
+
+
+
+THE WEARY PUND O' TOW.
+
+
+ A young gudewife is in my house,
+ And thrifty means to be,
+ But aye she 's runnin' to the town
+ Some ferlie there to see.
+ The weary pund, the weary pund, the weary pund o' tow,
+ I soothly think, ere it be spun, I 'll wear a lyart pow.
+
+ And when she sets her to her wheel,
+ To draw her threads wi' care,
+ In comes the chapman wi' his gear,
+ And she can spin nae mair.
+ The weary pund, &c.
+
+ And then like ony merry May,
+ At fairs maun still be seen,
+ At kirkyard preachings near the tent,
+ At dances on the green.
+ The weary pund, &c.
+
+ Her dainty ear a fiddle charms,
+ A bagpipe 's her delight,
+ But for the crooning o' her wheel
+ She disna care a mite.
+ The weary pund, &c.
+
+ "You spake, my Kate, of snaw-white webs
+ Made o' your hinkum twine,
+ But, ah! I fear our bonnie burn
+ Will ne'er lave web o' thine.
+ The weary pund, &c.
+
+ "Nay, smile again, my winsome mate,
+ Sic jeering means nae ill;
+ Should I gae sarkless to my grave,
+ I'll loe and bless thee still."
+ The weary pund, &c.
+
+
+
+
+THE WEE PICKLE TOW.[32]
+
+
+ A lively young lass had a wee pickle tow,
+ And she thought to try the spinnin' o't;
+ She sat by the fire, and her rock took alow,
+ And that was an ill beginnin' o't.
+ Loud and shrill was the cry that she utter'd, I ween;
+ The sudden mischanter brought tears to her een;
+ Her face it was fair, but her temper was keen;
+ O dole for the ill beginnin' o't!
+
+ She stamp'd on the floor, and her twa hands she wrung,
+ Her bonny sweet mou' she crookit, O!
+ And fell was the outbreak o' words frae her tongue;
+ Like ane sair demented she lookit, O!
+ "Foul fa' the inventor o' rock and o' reel!
+ I hope, gude forgi'e me! he 's now wi' the d--l,
+ He brought us mair trouble than help, wot I weel;
+ O dole for the ill beginnin' o't!
+
+ "And now, when they 're spinnin' and kempin' awa',
+ They 'll talk o' my rock and the burnin' o't,
+ While Tibbie, and Mysie, and Maggie, and a',
+ Into some silly joke will be turnin' it:
+ They 'll say I was doited, they 'll say I was fu';
+ They 'll say I was dowie, and Robin untrue;
+ They 'll say in the fire some luve-powther I threw,
+ And that made the ill beginning o't.
+
+ "O curst be the day, and unchancy the hour,
+ When I sat me adown to the spinnin' o't!
+ Then some evil spirit or warlock had power,
+ And made sic an ill beginnin' o't.
+ May Spunkie my feet to the boggie betray,
+ The lunzie folk steal my new kirtle away,
+ And Robin forsake me for douce Effie Gray,
+ The next time I try the spinnin' o't."
+
+
+[32] "The Wee Pickle Tow" is an old air, to which the words of this song
+were written.
+
+
+
+
+THE GOWAN GLITTERS ON THE SWARD.
+
+
+ The gowan glitters on the sward,
+ The lav'rock's in the sky,
+ And collie on my plaid keeps ward,
+ And time is passing by.
+ Oh, no! sad and slow,
+ And lengthen'd on the ground;
+ The shadow of our trysting bush
+ It wears so slowly round.
+
+ My sheep-bells tinkle frae the west,
+ My lambs are bleating near;
+ But still the sound that I lo'e best,
+ Alack! I canna hear.
+ Oh, no! sad and slow,
+ The shadow lingers still;
+ And like a lanely ghaist I stand,
+ And croon upon the hill.
+
+ I hear below the water roar,
+ The mill wi' clacking din,
+ And lucky scolding frae the door,
+ To ca' the bairnies in.
+ Oh, no! sad and slow,
+ These are nae sounds for me;
+ The shadow of our trysting bush
+ It creeps sae drearily!
+
+ I coft yestreen, frae chapman Tam,
+ A snood o' bonnie blue,
+ And promised, when our trysting cam',
+ To tie it round her brow.
+ Oh, no! sad and slow,
+ The mark it winna pass;
+ The shadow o' that dreary bush
+ Is tether'd on the grass.
+
+ O now I see her on the way!
+ She 's past the witch's knowe;
+ She 's climbing up the brownie's brae--
+ My heart is in a lowe.
+ Oh, no! 'tis not so,
+ 'Tis glamrie I hae seen;
+ The shadow o' that hawthorn bush
+ Will move nae mair till e'en.
+
+ My book o' grace I 'll try to read,
+ Though conn'd wi' little skill;
+ When collie barks I 'll raise my head,
+ And find her on the hill.
+ Oh, no! sad and slow,
+ The time will ne'er be gane;
+ The shadow o' our trysting bush
+ Is fix'd like ony stane.
+
+
+
+
+SAW YE JOHNNIE COMIN'?
+
+
+ "Saw ye Johnnie comin'?" quo' she;
+ "Saw ye Johnnie comin'?
+ Wi' his blue bonnet on his head,
+ And his doggie rinnin'.
+ Yestreen, about the gloamin' time,
+ I chanced to see him comin',
+ Whistling merrily the tune
+ That I am a' day hummin'," quo' she;
+ "I am a' day hummin'.
+
+ "Fee him, faither, fee him," quo' she;
+ "Fee him, faither, fee him;
+ A' the wark about the house
+ Gaes wi' me when I see him:
+ A' the wark about the house
+ I gang sae lightly through it;
+ And though ye pay some merks o' gear,
+ Hoot! ye winna rue it," quo' she;
+ "No; ye winna rue it."
+
+ "What wad I do wi' him, hizzy?
+ What wad I do wi' him?
+ He 's ne'er a sark upon his back,
+ And I hae nane to gi'e him."
+ "I hae twa sarks into my kist,
+ And ane o' them I 'll gi'e him;
+ And for a merk o' mair fee,
+ Oh, dinna stand wi' him," quo' she;
+ "Dinna stand wi' him.
+
+ "Weel do I lo'e him," quo' she;
+ "Weel do I lo'e him;
+ The brawest lads about the place
+ Are a' but hav'rels to him.
+ Oh, fee him, father; lang, I trow,
+ We 've dull and dowie been:
+ He 'll haud the plough, thrash i' the barn,
+ And crack wi' me at e'en," quo' she;
+ "Crack wi' me at e'en."
+
+
+
+
+IT FELL ON A MORNING.[33]
+
+
+ It fell on a morning when we were thrang--
+ Our kirn was gaun, our cheese was making,
+ And bannocks on the girdle baking--
+ That ane at the door chapp'd loud and lang;
+ But the auld gudewife, and her Mays sae tight,
+ Of this stirring and din took sma' notice, I ween;
+ For a chap at the door in braid daylight
+ Is no like a chap when heard at e'en.
+
+ Then the clocksie auld laird of the warlock glen,
+ Wha stood without, half cow'd, half cheerie.
+ And yearn'd for a sight of his winsome dearie,
+ Raised up the latch and came crousely ben.
+ His coat was new, and his owrelay was white,
+ And his hose and his mittens were coozy and bein;
+ But a wooer that comes in braid daylight
+ Is no like a wooer that comes at e'en.
+
+ He greeted the carlin' and lasses sae braw,
+ And his bare lyart pow he smoothly straikit,
+ And looked about, like a body half glaikit,
+ On bonny sweet Nanny, the youngest of a':
+ "Ha, ha!" quo' the carlin', "and look ye that way?
+ Hoot! let nae sic fancies bewilder ye clean--
+ An elderlin' man, i' the noon o' the day,
+ Should be wiser than youngsters that come at e'en."
+
+ "Na, na," quo' the pawky auld wife; "I trow
+ You 'll fash na your head wi' a youthfu' gilly,
+ As wild and as skeigh as a muirland filly;
+ Black Madge is far better and fitter for you."
+ He hem'd and he haw'd, and he screw'd in his mouth,
+ And he squeezed his blue bonnet his twa hands between;
+ For wooers that come when the sun 's in the south
+ Are mair awkward than wooers that come at e'en.
+
+ "Black Madge she is prudent." "What 's that to me?"
+ "She is eident and sober, has sense in her noddle--
+ Is douce and respeckit." "I carena a boddle;
+ I 'll baulk na my luve, and my fancy 's free."
+ Madge toss'd back her head wi' a saucy slight,
+ And Nanny run laughing out to the green;
+ For wooers that come when the sun shines bright
+ Are no like the wooers that come at e'en.
+
+ Awa' flung the laird, and loud mutter'd he,
+ "All the daughters of Eve, between Orkney and Tweed, O:
+ Black and fair, young and old, dame, damsel, and widow,
+ May gang, wi' their pride, to the wuddy for me."
+ But the auld gudewife, and her Mays sae tight,
+ For a' his loud banning cared little, I ween;
+ For a wooer that comes in braid daylight
+ Is no like a wooer that comes at e'en.
+
+
+[33] This song was contributed by Miss Baillie to "The Harp of
+Caledonia."
+
+
+
+
+WOO'D, AND MARRIED, AND A'.[34]
+
+
+ The bride she is winsome and bonnie,
+ Her hair it is snooded sae sleek;
+ And faithful and kind is her Johnnie,
+ Yet fast fa' the tears on her cheek.
+ New pearlings are cause o' her sorrow--
+ New pearlings and plenishing too;
+ The bride that has a' to borrow
+ Has e'en right muckle ado.
+ Woo'd, and married, and a';
+ Woo'd, and married, and a';
+ And is na she very weel aff,
+ To be woo'd, and married, and a'?
+
+ Her mither then hastily spak--
+ "The lassie is glaikit wi' pride;
+ In my pouches I hadna a plack
+ The day that I was a bride.
+ E'en tak to your wheel and be clever,
+ And draw out your thread in the sun;
+ The gear that is gifted, it never
+ Will last like the gear that is won.
+ Woo'd, and married, an' a',
+ Tocher and havings sae sma';
+ I think ye are very weel aff
+ To be woo'd, and married, and a'."
+
+ "Toot, toot!" quo' the gray-headed faither;
+ "She 's less of a bride than a bairn;
+ She 's ta'en like a cowt frae the heather,
+ Wi' sense and discretion to learn.
+ Half husband, I trow, and half daddy,
+ As humour inconstantly leans;
+ A chiel maun be constant and steady,
+ That yokes wi' a mate in her teens.
+ Kerchief to cover so neat,
+ Locks the winds used to blaw;
+ I 'm baith like to laugh and to greet,
+ When I think o' her married at a'."
+
+ Then out spak the wily bridegroom,
+ Weel waled were his wordies, I ween,--
+ "I 'm rich, though my coffer be toom,
+ Wi' the blinks o' your bonnie blue een;
+ I 'm prouder o' thee by my side,
+ Though thy ruffles or ribbons be few,
+ Than if Kate o' the Craft were my bride,
+ Wi' purples and pearlings enew.
+ Dear and dearest of ony,
+ I 've woo'd, and bookit, and a';
+ And do you think scorn o' your Johnnie,
+ And grieve to be married at a'?"
+
+ She turn'd, and she blush'd, and she smiled,
+ And she lookit sae bashfully down;
+ The pride o' her heart was beguiled,
+ And she play'd wi' the sleeve o' her gown;
+ She twirl'd the tag o' her lace,
+ And she nippit her boddice sae blue;
+ Syne blinkit sae sweet in his face,
+ And aff like a maukin she flew.
+ Woo'd, and married, and a',
+ Married and carried awa';
+ She thinks hersel' very weel aff,
+ To be woo'd, and married, and a'.
+
+
+[34] Of the song, "Woo'd, and married, and a'," there is another
+version, published in Johnson's "Musical Museum," vol. i. p. 10, which
+was long popular among the ballad-singers. This was composed by
+Alexander Ross, schoolmaster of Lochlee, author of "Helenore, or the
+Fortunate Shepherdess." A song, having a similar commencement, had
+previously been current on the Border.
+
+
+
+
+WILLIAM DUDGEON.
+
+
+Though the author of a single popular song, William Dudgeon is entitled
+to a place among the modern contributors to the Caledonian minstrelsy.
+Of his personal history, only a very few facts have been recovered. He
+was the son of a farmer in East-Lothian, and himself rented an extensive
+farm at Preston, in Berwickshire. During his border tour in May 1787,
+the poet Burns met him at Berrywell, the residence of the father of his
+friend Mr Robert Ainslie, who acted as land-steward on the estate of
+Lord Douglas in the Merse. In his journal, Burns has thus recorded his
+impression of the meeting:--"A Mr Dudgeon, a poet at times, a worthy,
+remarkable character, natural penetration, a great deal of information,
+some genius, and extreme modesty." Dudgeon died in October 1813, about
+his sixtieth year.
+
+
+
+
+UP AMONG YON CLIFFY ROCKS.
+
+
+ Up among yon cliffy rocks
+ Sweetly rings the rising echo,
+ To the maid that tends the goats
+ Lilting o'er her native notes.
+ Hark, she sings, "Young Sandy 's kind,
+ An' he 's promised aye to lo'e me;
+ Here 's a brooch I ne'er shall tine,
+ Till he 's fairly married to me.
+ Drive away, ye drone, Time,
+ And bring about our bridal day.
+
+ "Sandy herds a flock o' sheep;
+ Aften does he blaw the whistle
+ In a strain sae saftly sweet,
+ Lammies list'ning daurna bleat.
+ He 's as fleet 's the mountain roe,
+ Hardy as the Highland heather,
+ Wading through the winter snow,
+ Keeping aye his flock together;
+ But a plaid, wi' bare houghs,
+ He braves the bleakest norlan' blast.
+
+ "Brawly can he dance and sing,
+ Canty glee or Highland cronach;
+ Nane can ever match his fling,
+ At a reel or round a ring,
+ In a brawl he 's aye the bangster:
+ A' his praise can ne'er be sung
+ By the langest-winded sangster;
+ Sangs that sing o' Sandy,
+ Seem short, though they were e'er sae lang."
+
+
+
+
+WILLIAM REID.
+
+
+William Reid was born at Glasgow on the 10th of April 1764. His father,
+a baker by trade, was enabled to give him a good education at the school
+of his native city. At an early age he was apprenticed to Messrs Dunlop
+and Wilson, booksellers; and in the year 1790, along with another
+enterprising individual, he commenced a bookselling establishment, under
+the firm of "Brash and Reid." In this business, both partners became
+eminently successful, their shop being frequented by the _literati_ of
+the West. The poet Burns cultivated the society of Mr Reid, who proved a
+warm friend, as he was an ardent admirer, of the Ayrshire bard. He was
+an enthusiastic patron of literature, was fond of social humour, and a
+zealous promoter of the interests of Scottish song. Between 1795 and
+1798, the firm published in numbers, at one penny each, "Poetry,
+Original and Selected," which extended to four volumes. To this
+publication, both Mr Reid, and his partner, Mr Brash, made some original
+contributions. The work is now very scarce, and is accounted valuable by
+collectors. Mr Reid died at Glasgow, on the 29th of November 1831,
+leaving a widow and a family.
+
+
+
+
+THE LEA RIG.[35]
+
+
+ Will ye gang o'er the lea rig,
+ My ain kind dearie, O!
+ And cuddle there fu' kindly
+ Wi' me, my kind dearie, O!
+ At thorny bush, or birken tree,
+ We 'll daff and never weary, O!
+ They 'll scug ill een frae you and me,
+ My ain kind dearie, O!
+
+ Nae herds wi' kent or colly there,
+ Shall ever come to fear ye, O!
+ But lav'rocks, whistling in the air,
+ Shall woo, like me, their dearie, O!
+ While ithers herd their lambs and ewes,
+ And toil for warld's gear, my jo,
+ Upon the lea my pleasure grows,
+ Wi' thee, my kind dearie, O!
+
+ At gloamin', if my lane I be,
+ Oh, but I'm wondrous eerie, O!
+ And mony a heavy sigh I gie,
+ When absent frae my dearie, O!
+ But seated 'neath the milk-white thorn,
+ In ev'ning fair and clearie, O!
+ Enraptured, a' my cares I scorn,
+ When wi' my kind dearie, O!
+
+ Whare through the birks the burnie rows,
+ Aft hae I sat fu' cheerie, O!
+ Upon the bonny greensward howes,
+ Wi' thee, my kind dearie, O!
+ I've courted till I've heard the craw
+ Of honest chanticleerie, O!
+ Yet never miss'd my sleep ava,
+ Whan wi' my kind dearie, O!
+
+ For though the night were ne'er sae dark,
+ And I were ne'er sae weary, O!
+ I'd meet thee on the lea rig,
+ My ain kind dearie, O!
+ While in this weary world of wae,
+ This wilderness sae dreary, O!
+ What makes me blythe, and keeps me sae?
+ 'Tis thee, my kind dearie, O!
+
+
+[35] The two first stanzas of this song are the composition of the
+gifted and unfortunate Robert Fergusson. It is founded on an older
+ditty, beginning, "I'll rowe thee o'er the lea-rig." See Johnson's
+"Musical Museum," vol. iv. p. 53.
+
+
+
+
+JOHN ANDERSON, MY JO.[36]
+
+
+ John Anderson, my jo, John,
+ I wonder what ye mean,
+ To rise sae early in the morn,
+ And sit sae late at e'en;
+ Ye 'll blear out a' your een, John,
+ And why should you do so?
+ Gang sooner to your bed at e'en,
+ John Anderson, my jo.
+
+ John Anderson, my jo, John,
+ When Nature first began
+ To try her canny hand, John,
+ Her masterpiece was man;
+ And you amang them a', John,
+ Sae trig frae tap to toe--
+ She proved to be nae journeyman,
+ John Anderson, my jo.
+
+ John Anderson, my jo, John,
+ Ye were my first conceit;
+ And ye needna think it strange, John,
+ That I ca' ye trim and neat;
+ Though some folks say ye 're auld, John,
+ I never think ye so;
+ But I think ye 're aye the same to me,
+ John Anderson, my jo.
+
+ John Anderson, my jo, John,
+ We 've seen our bairns' bairns;
+ And yet, my dear John Anderson,
+ I 'm happy in your arms;
+ And sae are ye in mine, John,
+ I 'm sure ye 'll ne'er say, No;
+ Though the days are gane that we have seen,
+ John Anderson, my jo.
+
+
+[36] These stanzas are in continuation of Burns's song, "John Anderson,
+my jo." Five other stanzas have been added to the continuation by some
+unknown hand, which will be found in the "Book of Scottish Song," p. 54.
+Glasgow, 1853.
+
+
+
+
+FAIR, MODEST FLOWER.
+
+TUNE--_"Ye Banks and Braes o' bonnie Doon."_
+
+
+ Fair, modest flower, of matchless worth!
+ Thou sweet, enticing, bonny gem;
+ Blest is the soil that gave thee birth,
+ And bless'd thine honour'd parent stem.
+ But doubly bless'd shall be the youth
+ To whom thy heaving bosom warms;
+ Possess'd of beauty, love, and truth,
+ He 'll clasp an angel in his arms.
+
+ Though storms of life were blowing snell,
+ And on his brow sat brooding care,
+ Thy seraph smile would quick dispel
+ The darkest gloom of black despair.
+ Sure Heaven hath granted thee to us,
+ And chose thee from the dwellers there;
+ And sent thee from celestial bliss,
+ To shew what all the virtues are.
+
+
+
+
+KATE O' GOWRIE.[37]
+
+TUNE--_"Locherroch Side."_
+
+
+ When Katie was scarce out nineteen,
+ Oh, but she had twa coal-black een!
+ A bonnier lass ye wadna seen
+ In a' the Carse o' Gowrie.
+ Quite tired o' livin' a' his lane,
+ Pate did to her his love explain,
+ And swore he 'd be, were she his ain,
+ The happiest lad in Gowrie.
+
+ Quo' she, "I winna marry thee,
+ For a' the gear that ye can gi'e;
+ Nor will I gang a step ajee,
+ For a' the gowd in Gowrie.
+ My father will gi'e me twa kye;
+ My mother 's gaun some yarn to dye;
+ I 'll get a gown just like the sky,
+ Gif I 'll no gang to Gowrie."
+
+ "Oh, my dear Katie, say nae sae!
+ Ye little ken a heart that 's wae;
+ Hae! there 's my hand; hear me, I pray,
+ Sin' thou 'lt no gang to Gowrie:
+ Since first I met thee at the shiel,
+ My saul to thee 's been true and leal;
+ The darkest night I fear nae deil,
+ Warlock, or witch in Gowrie.
+
+ "I fear nae want o' claes nor nocht,
+ Sic silly things my mind ne'er taught;
+ I dream a' nicht, and start about,
+ And wish for thee in Gowrie.
+ I lo'e thee better, Kate, my dear,
+ Than a' my rigs and out-gaun gear;
+ Sit down by me till ance I swear,
+ Thou 'rt worth the Carse o' Gowrie."
+
+ Syne on her mou' sweet kisses laid,
+ Till blushes a' her cheeks o'erspread;
+ She sigh'd, and in soft whispers said,
+ "Oh, Pate, tak me to Gowrie!"
+ Quo' he, "Let 's to the auld folk gang;
+ Say what they like, I 'll bide their bang,
+ And bide a' nicht, though beds be thrang;
+ But I 'll hae thee to Gowrie."
+
+ The auld folk syne baith gi'ed consent;
+ The priest was ca'd: a' were content;
+ And Katie never did repent
+ That she gaed hame to Gowrie.
+ For routh o' bonnie bairns had she;
+ Mair strappin' lads ye wadna see;
+ And her braw lasses bore the gree
+ Frae a' the rest o' Gowrie.
+
+
+[37] See _postea_, in this volume, under article "Lady Nairn."
+
+
+
+
+UPON THE BANKS O' FLOWING CLYDE.[38]
+
+
+ Upon the banks o' flowing Clyde
+ The lasses busk them braw;
+ But when their best they hae put on,
+ My Jeanie dings them a';
+ In hamely weeds she far exceeds
+ The fairest o' the toun;
+ Baith sage and gay confess it sae,
+ Though drest in russit goun.
+
+ The gamesome lamb that sucks its dam,
+ Mair harmless canna be;
+ She has nae faut, if sic ye ca't,
+ Except her love for me;
+ The sparkling dew, o' clearest hue,
+ Is like her shining een;
+ In shape and air wha can compare,
+ Wi' my sweet lovely Jean.
+
+
+[38] These two stanzas were written as a continuation of Burns's popular
+song, "Of a' the airts the wind can blaw." Two other stanzas were added
+by John Hamilton. See _ante_, p. 124.
+
+
+
+
+ALEXANDER CAMPBELL.
+
+
+A miscellaneous writer, a poet, and a musical composer, Alexander
+Campbell first saw the light at Tombea, on the banks of Loch Lubnaig, in
+Perthshire. He was born in 1764, and received such education as his
+parents could afford him, which was not very ample, at the parish school
+of Callander. An early taste for music induced him to proceed to
+Edinburgh, there to cultivate a systematic acquaintance with the art.
+Acquiring a knowledge of the science under the celebrated Tenducci and
+others, he became himself a teacher of the harpsichord and of vocal
+music, in the metropolis. As an upholder of Jacobitism, when it was
+scarcely to be dreaded as a political offence, he officiated as organist
+in a non-juring chapel in the vicinity of Nicolson Street; and while so
+employed had the good fortune to form the acquaintance of Burns, who was
+pleased to discover in an individual entertaining similar state
+sentiments with himself, an enthusiastic devotion to national melody and
+song.
+
+Mr Campbell was twice married; his second wife was the widow of a
+Highland gentleman, and he was induced to hope that his condition might
+thus be permanently improved. He therefore relinquished his original
+vocation, and commenced the study of physic, with the view of obtaining
+an appointment as surgeon in the public service; but his sanguine hopes
+proved abortive, and, to complete his mortification, his wife left him
+in Edinburgh, and sought a retreat in the Highlands. He again procured
+some employment as a teacher of music; and about the year 1810, one of
+his expedients was to give lessons in drawing. He was a man of a fervent
+spirit, and possessed of talents, which, if they had been adequately
+cultivated, and more concentrated, might have enabled him to attain
+considerable distinction; but, apparently aiming at the reputation of
+universal genius, he alternately cultivated the study of music, poetry,
+painting, and physic. At a more recent period, Sir Walter Scott found
+him occasional employment in transcribing manuscripts; and during the
+unhappy remainder of his life he had to struggle with many difficulties.
+
+One of his publications bears the title of "Odes and Miscellaneous
+Poems, by a Student of Medicine in the University of Edinburgh,"
+Edinburgh, 1790, 4to. These lucubrations, which attracted no share of
+public attention, were followed by "The Guinea Note, a Poem, by Timothy
+Twig, Esquire," Edinburgh, 1797, 4to. His next work is entitled, "An
+Introduction to the History of Poetry in Scotland, with Illustrations by
+David Allan," Edinburgh, 1798, 4to. This work, though written in a
+rambling style, contains a small proportion of useful materials very
+unskilfully digested. "A Dialogue on Scottish Music," prefixed, had the
+merit of conveying to Continental musicians for the first time a correct
+acquaintance with the Scottish scale, the author receiving the
+commendations of the greatest Italian and German composers. The work
+likewise contains "Songs of the Lowlands," a selection of some of the
+more interesting specimens of the older minstrelsy. In 1802 he published
+"A Tour from Edinburgh through various parts of North Britain," in two
+volumes quarto, illustrated with engravings from sketches executed by
+himself. This work met with a favourable reception, and has been
+regarded as the most successful of his literary efforts. In 1804 he
+sought distinction as a poet by giving to the world "The Grampians
+Desolate," a long poem, in one volume octavo. In this production he
+essays "to call the attention of good men, wherever dispersed throughout
+our island, to the manifold and great evils arising from the
+introduction of that system which has within these last forty years
+spread among the Grampians and Western Isles, and is the leading cause
+of a depopulation that threatens to extirpate the ancient race of the
+inhabitants of those districts." That system to which Mr Campbell
+refers, he afterwards explains to be the monopoly of sheep-stores, a
+subject scarcely poetical, but which he has contrived to clothe with
+considerable smoothness of versification. The last work which issued
+from Mr Campbell's pen was "Albyn's Anthology, a Select Collection of
+the Melodies and Vocal Poetry Peculiar to Scotland and the Isles,
+hitherto Unpublished." The publication appeared in 1816, in two parts,
+of elegant folio. It was adorned by the contributions of Sir Walter
+Scott, James Hogg, and other poets of reputation. The preface contains
+"An Epitome of the History of Scottish Poetry and Music from the
+Earliest Times." His musical talents have a stronger claim to
+remembrance than either his powers as a poet or his skill as a writer.
+Yet his industry was unremitted, and his researches have proved
+serviceable to other writers who have followed him on the same themes.
+Only a few lyrical pieces proceeded from his pen; these were first
+published in "Albyn's Anthology." From this work we have extracted two
+specimens.
+
+Mr Campbell died of apoplexy on the 15th of May 1824, after a life much
+chequered by misfortune. He left various MSS. on subjects connected with
+his favourite studies, which have fortunately found their way into the
+possession of Mr Laing, to whom the history of Scottish poetry is
+perhaps more indebted than to any other living writer. The poems in this
+collection, though bearing marks of sufficient elaboration, could not be
+recommended for publication. Mr Campbell was understood to be a
+contributor to _The Ghost_, a forgotten periodical, which ran a short
+career in the year 1790. It was published in Edinburgh twice a week, and
+reached the forty-sixth number; the first having appeared on the 25th of
+April, the last on the 16th of November. He published an edition of a
+book, curious in its way--Donald Mackintosh's "Collection of Gaelic
+Proverbs, and Familiar Phrases; Englished anew!" Edinburgh, 1819, 12mo.
+The preface contains a characteristic account of the compiler, who
+described himself as "a priest of the old Scots Episcopal Church, and
+last of the non-jurant clergy in Scotland."
+
+
+
+
+NOW WINTER'S WIND SWEEPS.
+
+
+ Now winter's wind sweeps o'er the mountains,
+ Deeply clad in drifting snow;
+ Soundly sleep the frozen fountains;
+ Ice-bound streams forget to flow:
+ The piercing blast howls loud and long,
+ The leafless forest oaks among.
+
+ Down the glen, lo! comes a stranger,
+ Wayworn, drooping, all alone;--
+ Haply, 'tis the deer-haunt Ranger!
+ But alas! his strength is gone!
+ He stoops, he totters on with pain,
+ The hill he 'll never climb again.
+
+ Age is being's winter season,
+ Fitful, gloomy, piercing cold;
+ Passion weaken'd, yields to reason,
+ Man feels _then_ himself grown old;
+ His senses one by one have fled,
+ His very soul seems almost dead.
+
+
+
+
+THE HAWK WHOOPS ON HIGH.
+
+
+ The hawk whoops on high, and keen, keen from yon' cliff,
+ Lo! the eagle on watch eyes the stag cold and stiff;
+ The deer-hound, majestic, looks lofty around,
+ While he lists with delight to the harp's distant sound;
+ Is it swept by the gale, as it slow wafts along
+ The heart-soothing tones of an olden times' song?
+ Or is it some Druid who touches, unseen,
+ "The Harp of the North," newly strung now I ween?
+
+ 'Tis Albyn's own minstrel! and, proud of his name,
+ He proclaims him chief bard, and immortal his fame!--
+ He gives tongue to those wild lilts that ravish'd of old,
+ And soul to the tales that so oft have been told;
+ Hence Walter the Minstrel shall flourish for aye,
+ Will breathe in sweet airs, and live long as his "Lay;"
+ To ages unnumber'd thus yielding delight,
+ Which will last till the gloaming of Time's endless night.
+
+
+
+
+MRS DUGALD STEWART.
+
+
+Helen D'Arcy Cranstoun, the second wife of the celebrated Professor
+Stewart, is entitled to a more ample notice in a work on Modern Scottish
+Song than the limited materials at our command enable us to supply. She
+was the third daughter of the Hon. George Cranstoun, youngest son of
+William, fifth Lord Cranstoun. She was born in the year 1765, and became
+the wife of Professor Dugald Stewart on the 26th July 1790. Having
+survived her husband ten years, she died at Warriston House, in the
+neighbourhood of Edinburgh, on the 28th of July 1838. She was the sister
+of the Countess Purgstall (the subject of Captain Basil Hall's "Schloss
+Hainfeld"), and of George Cranstoun, a senator of the College of
+Justice, by the title of Lord Corehouse.
+
+The following pieces from the pen of the accomplished author are replete
+with simple beauty and exquisite tenderness.
+
+
+
+
+THE TEARS I SHED MUST EVER FALL.
+
+TUNE--_"Ianthe the Lovely."_
+
+
+ The tears I shed must ever fall:
+ I mourn not for an absent swain;
+ For thoughts may past delights recall,
+ And parted lovers meet again.
+ I weep not for the silent dead:
+ Their toils are past, their sorrows o'er;
+ And those they loved their steps shall tread,
+ And death shall join to part no more.
+
+ Though boundless oceans roll'd between,
+ If certain that his heart is near,
+ A conscious transport glads each scene,
+ Soft is the sigh and sweet the tear.
+ E'en when by death's cold hand removed,
+ We mourn the tenant of the tomb,
+ To think that e'en in death he loved,
+ Can gild the horrors of the gloom.
+
+ But bitter, bitter are the tears
+ Of her who slighted love bewails;
+ No hope her dreary prospect cheers,
+ No pleasing melancholy hails.
+ Hers are the pangs of wounded pride,
+ Of blasted hope, of wither'd joy;
+ The flattering veil is rent aside,
+ The flame of love burns to destroy.
+
+ In vain does memory renew
+ The hours once tinged in transport's dye;
+ The sad reverse soon starts to view,
+ And turns the past to agony.
+ E'en time itself despairs to cure
+ Those pangs to every feeling due:
+ Ungenerous youth! thy boast how poor,
+ To win a heart, and break it too!
+
+ No cold approach, no alter'd mien,
+ Just what would make suspicion start;
+ No pause the dire extremes between--
+ He made me blest, and broke my heart:[39]
+ From hope, the wretched's anchor, torn,
+ Neglected and neglecting all;
+ Friendless, forsaken, and forlorn,
+ The tears I shed must ever fall.
+
+
+[39] The four first lines of the last stanza are by Burns.
+
+
+
+
+RETURNING SPRING, WITH GLADSOME RAY.[40]
+
+
+ Returning spring, with gladsome ray,
+ Adorns the earth and smoothes the deep:
+ All nature smiles, serene and gay,
+ It smiles, and yet, alas! I weep.
+
+ But why, why flows the sudden tear,
+ Since Heaven such precious boons has lent,
+ The lives of those who life endear,
+ And, though scarce competence, content?
+
+ Sure, when no other bliss was mine
+ Than that which still kind Heaven bestows,
+ Yet then could peace and hope combine
+ To promise joy and give repose.
+
+ Then have I wander'd o'er the plain,
+ And bless'd each flower that met my view;
+ Thought Fancy's power would ever reign,
+ And Nature's charms be ever new.
+
+ I fondly thought where Virtue dwelt,
+ That happy bosom knew no ill--
+ That those who scorn'd me, time would melt,
+ And those I loved be faultless still.
+
+ Enchanting dreams! kind was your art
+ That bliss bestow'd without alloy;
+ Or if soft sadness claim'd a part,
+ 'Twas sadness sweeter still than joy.
+
+ Oh! whence the change that now alarms,
+ Fills this sad heart and tearful eye,
+ And conquers the once powerful charms
+ Of youth, of hope, of novelty?
+
+ 'Tis sad Experience, fatal power!
+ That clouds the once illumined sky,
+ That darkens life's meridian hour,
+ And bids each fairy vision fly.
+
+ She paints the scene--how different far
+ From that which youthful fancy drew!
+ Shews joy and freedom oft at war,
+ Our woes increased, our comforts few.
+
+ And when, perhaps, on some loved friend
+ Our treasured fondness we bestow,
+ Oh! can she not, with ruthless hand,
+ Change even that friend into a foe?
+
+ See in her train cold Foresight move,
+ Shunning the rose to 'scape the thorn;
+ And Prudence every fear approve,
+ And Pity harden into scorn!
+
+ The glowing tints of Fancy fade,
+ Life's distant prospects charm no more;
+ Alas! are all my hopes betray'd?
+ Can nought my happiness restore?
+
+ Relentless power! at length be just,
+ Thy better skill alone impart;
+ Give Caution, but withhold Distrust,
+ And guard, but harden not, my heart!
+
+
+[40] These tender and beautiful verses are transcribed from Johnson's
+"Musical Museum," in a note to which they were first published by the
+editor, Mr David Laing. He remarks that he "has reason to believe" that
+they are from the pen of Mrs Stewart. (See Johnson's "Musical Museum,"
+vol. iv. p. 366, _new edition_. Edinburgh, 1853.)
+
+
+
+
+ALEXANDER WILSON.
+
+
+The author of the celebrated "American Ornithology" is entitled to an
+honourable commemoration as one of the minstrels of his native land.
+Alexander Wilson was born at Paisley on the 6th of July 1766. His father
+had for some time carried on a small trade as a distiller; but the son
+was destined by his parents for the clerical profession, in the National
+Church--a scheme which was frustrated by the death of his mother in his
+tenth year, leaving a large family of children to the sole care of his
+father. He had, however, considerably profited by the instruction
+already received at school; and having derived from his mother a taste
+for music and a relish for books, he invoked the muse in solitude, and
+improved his mind by miscellaneous reading. His father contracted a
+second marriage when Alexander had reached his thirteenth year; and it
+became necessary that he should prepare himself for entering upon some
+handicraft employment. He became an apprentice to his brother-in-law,
+William Duncan, a weaver in his native town; and on completing his
+indenture, he wrought as a journeyman, during the three following years,
+in the towns of Paisley, Lochwinnoch, and Queensferry. But the
+occupation of weaving, which had from the first been unsuitable to his
+tastes, growing altogether irksome, he determined to relinquish it for a
+vocation which, if in some respects scarcely more desirable, afforded
+him ample means of gratifying his natural desire of becoming familiar
+with the topography of his native country. He provided himself with a
+pack, as a pedlar, and in this capacity, in company with his
+brother-in-law, continued for three years to lead a wandering life. His
+devotedness to verse-making had continued unabated from boyhood; he had
+written verses at the loom, and had become an enthusiastic votary of the
+muse during his peregrinations with his pack. He was now in his
+twenty-third year; and with the buoyancy of ardent youth, he thought of
+offering to the public a volume of his poems by subscription. In this
+attempt he was not successful; nor would any bookseller listen to
+proposals of publishing the lucubrations of an obscure pedlar. In 1790,
+he at length contrived to print his poems at Paisley, on his own
+account, in the hope of being able to dispose of them along with his
+other wares. But this attempt was not more successful than his original
+scheme, so that he was compelled to return to his father's house at
+Lochwinnoch, and resume the obnoxious shuttle. His aspirations for
+poetical distinction were not, however, subdued; he heard of the
+institution of the _Forum_, a debating society established in Edinburgh
+by some literary aspirants, and learning, in 1791, that an early subject
+of discussion was the comparative merits of Ramsay and Fergusson as
+Scottish poets, he prepared to take a share in the competition. By
+doubling his hours of labour at the loom, he procured the means of
+defraying his travelling expenses; and, arriving in time for the debate
+in the _Forum_, he repeated a poem which he had prepared, entitled the
+"Laurel Disputed," in which he gave the preference to Fergusson. He
+remained several weeks in Edinburgh, and printed his poem. To Dr
+Anderson's "Bee" he contributed several poems, and a prose essay,
+entitled "The Solitary Philosopher." Finding no encouragement to settle
+in the metropolis, he once more returned to his father's house in the
+west. He now formed the acquaintance of Robert Burns, who testified his
+esteem for him both as a man and a poet. In 1792, he published
+anonymously his popular ballad of "Watty and Meg," which he had the
+satisfaction to find regarded as worthy of the Ayrshire Bard.
+
+The star of the poet was now promising to be in the ascendant, but an
+untoward event ensued. In the ardent enthusiasm of his temperament, he
+was induced to espouse in verse the cause of the Paisley hand-loom
+operatives in a dispute with their employers, and to satirise in strong
+invective a person of irreproachable reputation. For this offence he was
+prosecuted before the sheriff, who sentenced him to be imprisoned for a
+few days, and publicly to burn his own poem in the front of the jail.
+This satire is entitled "The Shark; or, Long Mills detected." Like many
+other independents, he mistook anarchy in France for the dawn of liberty
+in Europe; and his sentiments becoming known, he was so vigilantly
+watched by the authorities, that he found it was no longer expedient for
+him to reside in Scotland. He resolved to emigrate to America; and,
+contriving by four months' extra labour, and living on a shilling
+weekly, to earn his passage-money, he sailed from Portpatrick to
+Belfast, and from thence to Newcastle, in the State of Delaware, where
+he arrived on the 14th July 1794. During the voyage he had slept on
+deck, and when he landed, his finances consisted only of a few
+shillings; yet, with a cheerful heart, he walked to Philadelphia, a
+distance of thirty-three miles, with only his fowling-piece on his
+shoulder. He shot a red-headed woodpecker by the way,--an omen of his
+future pursuits, for hitherto he had devoted no attention to the study
+of ornithology.
+
+He was first employed by a copperplate-printer in Philadelphia, but
+quitted this occupation for the loom, at which he worked about a year in
+Philadelphia, and at Shepherdstown, in Virginia. In 1795, he traversed a
+large portion of the State of New Jersey as a pedlar, keeping a
+journal,--a practice which he had followed during his wandering life in
+Scotland. He now adopted the profession of a schoolmaster, and was
+successively employed in this vocation at Frankford, in Pennsylvania, at
+Milestown, and at Bloomfield, in New Jersey. In preparing himself for
+the instruction of others, he essentially extended his own acquaintance
+with classical learning, and mathematical science; and by occasional
+employment as a land-surveyor, he somewhat improved his finances. In
+1801, he accepted the appointment of teacher in a seminary in
+Kingsessing, on the river Schuylkill, about four miles from
+Philadelphia,--a situation which, though attended with limited
+emolument, proved the first step in his path to eminence. He was within
+a short distance of the residence of William Bartram, the great American
+naturalist, with whom he became intimately acquainted; he also formed
+the friendship of Alexander Lawson, an emigrant engraver, who initiated
+him in the art of etching, colouring, and engraving. Discovering an
+aptitude in the accurate delineation of birds, he was led to the study
+of ornithology; with which he became so much interested, that he
+projected a work descriptive, with drawings, of all the birds of the
+Middle States, and even of the Union. About this period he became a
+contributor to the "Literary Magazine," conducted by Mr Brockden Brown,
+and to Denny's "Portfolio."
+
+Along with a nephew and another friend, Wilson made a pedestrian tour to
+the Falls of Niagara, in October 1804, and on his return published in
+the "Portfolio" a poetical narrative of his journey, entitled "The
+Foresters,"--a production surpassing his previous efforts, and
+containing some sublime apostrophes. But his energies were now chiefly
+devoted to the accomplishment of the grand design he had contemplated.
+Disappointed in obtaining the co-operation of his friend Mr Lawson, who
+was alarmed at the extent of his projected adventure, and likewise
+frustrated in obtaining pecuniary assistance from the President
+Jefferson, on which he had some reason to calculate, he persevered in
+his attempts himself, drawing, etching, and colouring the requisite
+illustrations. In 1806, he was employed as assistant-editor of a new
+edition of Rees' Cyclopedia, by Mr Samuel Bradford, bookseller in
+Philadelphia, who rewarded his services with a liberal salary, and
+undertook, at his own risk, the publication of his "Ornithology." The
+first volume of the work appeared in September 1808, and immediately
+after its publication the author personally visited, in the course of
+two different expeditions, the Eastern and Southern States, in quest of
+subscribers. These journeys were attended with a success scarcely
+adequate to the privations which were experienced in their prosecution;
+but the "Ornithology" otherwise obtained a wide circulation, and,
+excelling in point of illustration every production that had yet
+appeared in America, gained for the author universal commendation. In
+January 1810, his second volume appeared, and in a month after he
+proceeded to Pittsburg, and from thence, in a small skiff, made a
+solitary voyage down the Ohio, a distance of nearly six hundred miles.
+During this lonely and venturous journey he experienced relaxation in
+the composition of a poem, which afterwards appeared under the title of
+"The Pilgrim." In 1813, after encountering numerous hardships and
+perils, which an enthusiast only could have endured, he completed the
+publication of the seventh volume of his great work. But the sedulous
+attention requisite in the preparation of the plates of the eighth
+volume, and the effect of a severe cold, caught in rashly throwing
+himself into a river to swim in pursuit of a rare bird, brought on him a
+fatal dysentery, which carried him off, on the 23d of August 1813, in
+his forty-eighth year. He was interred in the cemetery of the Swedish
+church, Southwark, Philadelphia, where a plain marble monument has been
+erected to his memory. A ninth volume was added to the "Ornithology" by
+Mr George Ord, an intimate friend of the deceased naturalist; and three
+supplementary volumes have been published, in folio, by Charles Lucien
+Bonaparte, uncle of the present Emperor of the French.
+
+Amidst his extraordinary deserts as a naturalist, the merits of
+Alexander Wilson as a poet have been somewhat overlooked. His poetry, it
+may be remarked, though unambitious of ornament, is bold and vigorous in
+style, and, when devoted to satire, is keen and vehement. The ballad of
+"Watty and Meg," though exception may be taken to the moral, is an
+admirable picture of human nature, and one of the most graphic
+narratives of the "taming of a shrew" in the language. Allan Cunningham
+writes: "It has been excelled by none in lively, graphic fidelity of
+touch: whatever was present to his eye and manifest to his ear, he
+could paint with a life and a humour which Burns seems alone to
+excel."[41] In private life, Wilson was a model of benevolence and of
+the social virtues; he was devoid of selfishness, active in beneficence,
+and incapable of resentment. Before his departure for America, he waited
+on every one whom he conceived he had offended by his juvenile
+escapades, and begged their forgiveness; and he did not hesitate to
+reprove Burns for the levity too apparent in some of his poems. To his
+aged father, who survived till the year 1816, he sent remittances of
+money as often as he could afford; and at much inconvenience and
+pecuniary sacrifice, he established the family of his brother-in-law on
+a farm in the States. He was sober even to abstinence; and was guided in
+all his transactions by correct Christian principles. In person, he was
+remarkably handsome; his countenance was intelligent, and his eye
+sparkling. He never attained riches, but few Scotsmen have left more
+splendid memorials of their indomitable perseverance.[42] FOOTNOTES:
+
+[41] The "Songs of Scotland," by Allan Cunningham, vol. i. p. 247.
+
+[42] The most complete collection of his poems appeared in a volume
+published under the following title:--"The Poetical Works of Alexander
+Wilson; also, his Miscellaneous Prose Writings, Journals, Letters,
+Essays, &c., now first Collected: Illustrated by Critical and
+Explanatory Notes, with an extended Memoir of his Life and Writings, and
+a Glossary." Belfast, 1844, 18vo. A portrait of the author is prefixed.
+
+
+
+
+CONNEL AND FLORA.
+
+
+ Dark lowers the night o'er the wide stormy main,
+ Till mild rosy morning rise cheerful again;
+ Alas! morn returns to revisit the shore,
+ But Connel returns to his Flora no more.
+
+ For see, on yon mountain, the dark cloud of death,
+ O'er Connel's lone cottage, lies low on the heath;
+ While bloody and pale, on a far distant shore,
+ He lies, to return to his Flora no more.
+
+ Ye light fleeting spirits, that glide o'er the steep,
+ Oh, would ye but waft me across the wild deep!
+ There fearless I'd mix in the battle's loud roar,
+ I'd die with my Connel, and leave him no more.
+
+
+
+
+MATILDA.
+
+
+ Ye dark rugged rocks, that recline o'er the deep,
+ Ye breezes, that sigh o'er the main,
+ Here shelter me under your cliffs while I weep,
+ And cease while ye hear me complain.
+
+ For distant, alas! from my dear native shore,
+ And far from each friend now I be;
+ And wide is the merciless ocean that roars
+ Between my Matilda and me.
+
+ How blest were the times when together we stray'd,
+ While Phoebe shone silent above,
+ Or lean'd by the border of Cartha's green side,
+ And talk'd the whole evening of love!
+
+ Around us all nature lay wrapt up in peace,
+ Nor noise could our pleasures annoy,
+ Save Cartha's hoarse brawling, convey'd by the breeze,
+ That soothed us to love and to joy.
+
+ If haply some youth had his passion express'd,
+ And praised the bright charms of her face,
+ What horrors unceasing revolved though my breast,
+ While, sighing, I stole from the place!
+
+ For where is the eye that could view her alone,
+ The ear that could list to her strain,
+ Nor wish the adorable nymph for his own,
+ Nor double the pangs I sustain?
+
+ Thou moon, that now brighten'st those regions above,
+ How oft hast thou witness'd my bliss,
+ While breathing my tender expressions of love,
+ I seal'd each kind vow with a kiss!
+
+ Ah, then, how I joy'd while I gazed on her charms!
+ What transports flew swift through my heart!
+ I press'd the dear, beautiful maid in my arms,
+ Nor dream'd that we ever should part.
+
+ But now from the dear, from the tenderest maid,
+ By fortune unfeelingly torn;
+ 'Midst strangers, who wonder to see me so sad,
+ In secret I wander forlorn.
+
+ And oft, while drear Midnight assembles her shades,
+ And Silence pours sleep from her throne,
+ Pale, lonely, and pensive, I steal through the glades,
+ And sigh, 'midst the darkness, my moan.
+
+ In vain to the town I retreat for relief,
+ In vain to the groves I complain;
+ Belles, coxcombs, and uproar, can ne'er soothe my grief,
+ And solitude nurses my pain.
+
+ Still absent from her whom my bosom loves best,
+ I languish in mis'ry and care;
+ Her presence could banish each woe from my heart,
+ But her absence, alas! is despair.
+
+ Ye dark rugged rocks, that recline o'er the deep;
+ Ye breezes, that sigh o'er the main--
+ Oh, shelter me under your cliffs while I weep,
+ And cease while ye hear me complain!
+
+ Far distant, alas! from my dear native shore,
+ And far from each friend now I be;
+ And wide is the merciless ocean that roars
+ Between my Matilda and me.
+
+
+
+
+AUCHTERTOOL.[43]
+
+
+ From the village of Leslie, with a heart full of glee,
+ And my pack on my shoulders, I rambled out free,
+ Resolved that same evening, as Luna was full,
+ To lodge, ten miles distant, in old Auchtertool.
+
+ Through many a lone cottage and farm-house I steer'd,
+ Took their money, and off with my budget I sheer'd;
+ The road I explored out, without form or rule,
+ Still asking the nearest to old Auchtertool.
+
+ At length I arrived at the edge of the town,
+ As Phoebus, behind a high mountain, went down;
+ The clouds gather'd dreary, and weather blew foul,
+ And I hugg'd myself safe now in old Auchtertool.
+
+ An inn I inquired out, a lodging desired,
+ But the landlady's pertness seem'd instantly fired;
+ For she saucy replied, as she sat carding wool,
+ "I ne'er kept sic lodgers in auld Auchtertool."
+
+ With scorn I soon left her to live on her pride;
+ But, asking, was told there was none else beside,
+ Except an old weaver, who now kept a school,
+ And these were the whole that were in Auchtertool.
+
+ To his mansion I scamper'd, and rapp'd at the door;
+ He oped, but as soon as I dared to implore,
+ He shut it like thunder, and utter'd a howl
+ That rung through each corner of old Auchtertool.
+
+ Deprived of all shelter, through darkness I trode,
+ Till I came to a ruin'd old house by the road;
+ Here the night I will spend, and, inspired by the owl,
+ My wrath I 'll vent forth upon old Auchtertool.
+
+
+[43] We have ventured to omit three verses, and to alter slightly the
+last line of this song. It was originally published at Paisley, in 1790,
+to the tune of "One bottle more." Auchtertool is a small hamlet in
+Fifeshire, about five miles west of the town of Kirkcaldy. The
+inhabitants, whatever may have been their failings at the period when
+Wilson in vain solicited shelter in the hamlet, are certainly no longer
+entitled to bear the reproach of lacking in hospitality. We rejoice in
+the opportunity thus afforded of testifying as to the disinterested
+hospitality and kindness which we have experienced in that
+neighbourhood.
+
+
+
+
+CAROLINA, BARONESS NAIRN.
+
+
+Carolina Oliphant was born in the old mansion of Gask, in the county of
+Perth, on the 16th of July 1766. She was the third daughter and fifth
+child of Laurence Oliphant of Gask, who had espoused his cousin Margaret
+Robertson, a daughter of Duncan Robertson of Struan, and his wife a
+daughter of the fourth Lord Nairn. The Oliphants of Gask were cadets of
+the formerly noble house of Oliphant; whose ancestor, Sir William
+Oliphant of Aberdalgie, a puissant knight, acquired distinction in the
+beginning of the fourteenth century by defending the Castle of Stirling
+against a formidable siege by the first Edward. The family of Gask were
+devoted Jacobites; the paternal grandfather of Carolina Oliphant had
+attended Prince Charles Edward as aid-de-camp during his disastrous
+campaign of 1745-6, and his spouse had indicated her sympathy in his
+cause by cutting out a lock of his hair on the occasion of his accepting
+the hospitality of the family mansion. The portion of hair is preserved
+at Gask; and Carolina Oliphant, in her song, "The Auld House," has thus
+celebrated the gentle deed of her progenitor:--
+
+ "The Leddy too, sae genty,
+ There shelter'd Scotland's heir,
+ An' clipt a lock wi' her ain hand
+ Frae his lang yellow hair."
+
+The estate of Gask escaped forfeiture, but the father of Carolina did
+not renounce the Jacobite sentiments of his ancestors. He named the
+subject of this memoir Carolina, in honour of Prince Charles Edward; and
+his prevailing topic of conversation was the reiterated expression of
+his hope that "the king would get his ain." He would not permit the
+names of the reigning monarch and his queen to be mentioned in his
+presence; and when impaired eyesight compelled him to seek the
+assistance of his family in reading the newspapers, he angrily reproved
+the reader if the "German lairdie and his leddy" were designated
+otherwise than by the initial letters, "K. and Q." This extreme
+Jacobitism at a period when the crime was scarcely to be dreaded, was
+reported to George III., who is related to have confessed his respect
+for a man who had so consistently maintained his political sentiments.
+
+In her youth, Carolina Oliphant was singularly beautiful, and was known
+in her native district by the poetical designation of "The Flower of
+Strathearn." She was as remarkable for the precocity of her intellect,
+as she was celebrated for the elegance of her person. Descended by her
+mother from a family which, in one instance,[44] at least, had afforded
+some evidence of poetical talents, and possessed of a correct musical
+ear, she very early composed verses for her favourite melodies. To the
+development of her native genius, her juvenile condition abundantly
+contributed: the locality of her birthplace, rich in landscape scenery,
+and associated with family traditions and legends of curious and
+chivalric adventure, might have been sufficient to promote, in a mind
+less fertile than her own, sentiments of poesy. In the application of
+her talents she was influenced by another incentive. A loose ribaldry
+tainted the songs and ballads which circulated among the peasantry, and
+she was convinced that the diffusion of a more wholesome minstrelsy
+would essentially elevate the moral tone of the community. Thus, while
+still young, she commenced to purify the older melodies, and to compose
+new songs, which were ultimately destined to occupy an ample share of
+the national heart. The occasion of an agricultural dinner in the
+neighbourhood afforded her a fitting opportunity of making trial of her
+success in the good work which she had begun. To the president of the
+meeting she sent, anonymously, her verses entitled "The Ploughman;" and
+the production being publicly read, was received with warm approbation,
+and was speedily put to music. She was thus encouraged to proceed in her
+self-imposed task; and to this early period of her life may be ascribed
+some of her best lyrics. "The Laird o' Cockpen," and "The Land o' the
+Leal," at the close of the century, were sung in every district of the
+kingdom.
+
+Carolina Oliphant had many suitors for her hand: she gave a preference
+to William Murray Nairn, her maternal cousin, who had been Baron Nairn,
+barring the attainder of the title on account of the Jacobitism of the
+last Baron. The marriage was celebrated in June 1806. At this period, Mr
+Nairn was Assistant Inspector-General of Barracks in Scotland, and held
+the rank of major in the army. By Act of Parliament, on the 17th June
+1824, the attainder of the family was removed, the title of Baron being
+conferred on Major Nairn. This measure is reported to have been passed
+on the strong recommendation of George IV.; his Majesty having learned,
+during his state visit to Scotland in 1822, that the song of "The
+Attainted Scottish Nobles" was the composition of Lady Nairn. The song
+is certainly one of the best apologies for Jacobitism.
+
+On the 9th of July 1830, Lady Nairn was bereaved of her husband, to whom
+she had proved an affectionate wife. Her care had for several years been
+assiduously bestowed on the proper rearing of her only child William,
+who, being born in 1808, had reached his twenty-second year when he
+succeeded to the title on the death of his father. This young nobleman
+warmly reciprocated his mother's affectionate devotedness; and, making
+her the associate of his manhood, proved a source of much comfort to her
+in her bereavement. In 1837, he resolved, in her society, to visit the
+Continent, in the hope of being recruited by change of climate from an
+attack of influenza caught in the spring of that year. But the change
+did not avail; he was seized with a violent cold at Brussels, which,
+after an illness of six weeks, proved fatal. He died in that city on the
+7th of December 1837. Deprived both of her husband and her only child, a
+young nobleman of so much promise, and of singular Christian worth, Lady
+Nairn, though submitting to the mysterious dispensations with becoming
+resignation, did not regain her wonted buoyancy of spirit. Old age was
+rapidly approaching,--those years in which the words of the inspired
+sage, "I have no pleasure in them," are too frequently called forth by
+the pressure of human infirmities. But this amiable lady did not sink
+under the load of affliction and of years: she mourned in hope, and wept
+in faith. While the afflictions which had mingled with her cup of
+blessings tended to prevent her lingering too intently on the past,[45]
+the remembrance of a life devoted to deeds of piety and virtue was a
+solace greater than any other earthly object could impart, leading her
+to hail the future with sentiments of joyful anticipation. During the
+last years of her life, unfettered by worldly ties, she devoted all her
+energies to the service of Heaven, and to the advancement of Christian
+truth. Her beautiful ode, "Would you be young again?" was composed in
+1842, and enclosed in a letter to a friend; it is signally expressive of
+the pious resignation and Christian hope of the author.
+
+After the important era of her marriage, she seems to have relinquished
+her literary ardour. But in the year 1821, Mr Robert Purdie, an
+enterprising music-seller in Edinburgh, having resolved to publish a
+series of the more approved national songs, made application to several
+ladies celebrated for their musical skill, with the view of obtaining
+their assistance in the arrangement of the melodies. To these ladies was
+known the secret of Lady Nairn's devotedness to Scottish song, enjoying
+as they did her literary correspondence and private intimacy; and in
+consenting to aid the publisher in his undertaking, they calculated on
+contributions from their accomplished friend. They had formed a correct
+estimate: Lady Nairn, whose extreme diffidence had hitherto proved a
+barrier to the fulfilment of the best wishes of her heart, in effecting
+the reformation of the national minstrelsy, consented to transmit
+pieces for insertion, on the express condition that her name and rank,
+and every circumstance connected with her history, should be kept in
+profound secrecy. The condition was carefully observed; so that,
+although the publication of "The Scottish Minstrel" extended over three
+years, and she had several personal interviews and much correspondence
+with the publisher and his editor, Mr R. A. Smith, both these
+individuals remained ignorant of her real name. She had assumed the
+signature, "B. B.," in her correspondence with Mr Purdie, who appears to
+have been entertained by _the discovery_, communicated in confidence,
+that the name of his contributor was "Mrs Bogan of Bogan;" and by this
+designation he subsequently addressed her. The _nom de guerre_ of the
+two B.'s[46] is attached to the greater number of Lady Nairn's
+contributions in "The Scottish Minstrel."
+
+The new collection of minstrelsy, unexceptionable as it was in the words
+attached to all the airs, commanded a wide circulation, and excited
+general attention. The original contributions were especially commended,
+and some of them were forthwith sung by professed vocalists in the
+principal towns. Much speculation arose respecting the authorship, and
+various conjectures were supported, each with plausible arguments, by
+the public journalists. In these circumstances, Lady Nairn experienced
+painful alarm, lest, by any inadvertence on the part of her friends, the
+origin of her songs should be traced. While the publication of the
+"Minstrel" was proceeding, her correspondents received repeated
+injunctions to adopt every caution in preserving her _incognita_; she
+was even desirous that her sex might not be made known. "I beg the
+publisher will make no mention of a _lady_," she wrote to one of her
+correspondents, "as you observe, the more mystery the better, and
+_still_ the balance is in favour of the lords of creation. I cannot
+help, in some degree, undervaluing beforehand what is said to be a
+feminine production." "The Scottish Minstrel" was completed in 1824, in
+six royal octavo volumes, forming one of the best collections of the
+Scottish melodies. It was in the full belief that "Mrs Bogan" was her
+real name, that the following compliment was paid to Lady Nairn by
+Messrs Purdie and R. A. Smith, in the advertisement to the last volume
+of the work:--"In particular, the editors would have felt happy in being
+permitted to enumerate the many original and beautiful verses that adorn
+their pages, for which they are indebted to the author of the
+much-admired song, 'The Land o' the Leal;' but they fear to wound a
+delicacy which shrinks from all observation."
+
+Subsequent to the appearance of "The Scottish Minstrel," Lady Nairn did
+not publish any lyrics; and she was eminently successful in preserving
+her _incognita_. No critic ventured to identify her as the celebrated
+"B. B.," and it was only whispered among a few that she had composed
+"The Land o' the Leal." The mention of her name publicly as the author
+of this beautiful ode, on one occasion, had signally disconcerted her.
+While she was resident in Paris, in 1842, she writes to an intimate
+friend in Edinburgh on this subject:--"A Scottish lady here, Lady----,
+with whom I never met in Scotland, is so good as, among perfect
+strangers, to _denounce_ me as the origin of 'The Land o' the Leal!' I
+cannot trace it, but very much dislike as ever any kind of publicity."
+The extreme diffidence and shrinking modesty of the amiable author
+continued to the close of her life; she never divulged, beyond a small
+circle of confidential friends, the authorship of a single verse. The
+songs published in her youth had been given to others; but, as in the
+case of Lady Anne Barnard, these assignments caused her no uneasiness.
+She experienced much gratification in finding her simple minstrelsy
+supplanting the coarse and demoralising rhymes of a former period; and
+this mental satisfaction she preferred to fame.
+
+The philanthropic efforts of Lady Nairn were not limited to the
+purification of the national minstrelsy; her benevolence extended
+towards the support of every institution likely to promote the temporal
+comforts, or advance the spiritual interests of her countrymen. Her
+contributions to the public charities were ample, and she
+
+ "Did good by stealth, and blush'd to find it fame."
+
+In an address delivered at Edinburgh, on the 29th of December 1845, Dr
+Chalmers, referring to the exertions which had been made for the supply
+of religious instruction in the district of the West Port of Edinburgh,
+made the following remarks regarding Lady Nairn, who was then recently
+deceased:--"Let me speak now as to the countenance we have received. I
+am now at liberty to mention a very noble benefaction which I received
+about a year ago. Inquiry was made at me by a lady, mentioning that she
+had a sum at her disposal, and that she wished to apply it to charitable
+purposes; and she wanted me to enumerate a list of charitable objects,
+in proportion to the estimate I had of their value. Accordingly, I
+furnished her with a scale of about five or six charitable objects. The
+highest in the scale were those institutions which had for their design
+the Christianising of the people at home; and I also mentioned to her,
+in connexion with the Christianising at home, what we were doing at the
+West Port; and there came to me from her, in the course of a day or two,
+no less a sum than 300. She is now dead; she is now in her grave, and
+her works do follow her. When she gave me this noble benefaction, she
+laid me under strict injunctions of secrecy, and, accordingly, I did not
+mention her name to any person; but after she was dead, I begged of her
+nearest heir that I might be allowed to proclaim it, because I thought
+that her example, so worthy to be followed, might influence others in
+imitating her; and I am happy to say that I am now at liberty to state
+that it was Lady Nairn of Perthshire. It enabled us, at the expense of
+330, to purchase sites for schools, and a church; and we have got a
+site in the very heart of the locality, with a very considerable extent
+of ground for a washing-green, a washing-house, and a play-ground for
+the children, so that we are a good step in advance towards the
+completion of our parochial economy."
+
+After the death of her son, and till within two years of her own death,
+Lady Nairn resided chiefly on the Continent, and frequently in Paris.
+Her health had for several years been considerably impaired, and
+latterly she had recourse to a wheeled chair. In the mansion of Gask, on
+the 27th of October 1845, she gently sunk into her rest, at the advanced
+age of seventy-nine years.
+
+Some years subsequent to this event, it occurred to the relatives and
+literary friends of the deceased Baroness that as there could no longer
+be any reason for retaining her _incognita_, full justice should be done
+to her memory by the publication of a collected edition of her works.
+This scheme was partially executed in an elegant folio, entitled "Lays
+from Strathearn: by Carolina, Baroness Nairn. Arranged with Symphonies
+and Accompaniments for the Pianoforte, by Finlay Dun." It bears the
+imprint of London, and has no date. In this work, of which a new edition
+will speedily be published by Messrs Paterson, music-sellers, Edinburgh,
+are contained seventy songs, but the larger proportion of the author's
+lyrics still remain in MS. From her representatives we have received
+permission to select her best lyrics for the present work, and to insert
+several pieces hitherto unpublished. Of the lays which we have selected,
+several are new versions to old airs; the majority, though unknown as
+the compositions of Lady Nairn, are already familiar in the drawing-room
+and the cottage. For winning simplicity, graceful expression, and
+exquisite pathos, her compositions are especially remarkable; but when
+her muse prompts to humour, the laugh is sprightly and overpowering.
+
+In society, Lady Nairn was reserved and unassuming. Her countenance,
+naturally beautiful, wore, in her mature years, a somewhat pensive cast;
+and the characteristic by which she was known consisted in her
+enthusiastic love of music. It may be added, that she was fond of the
+fine arts, and was skilled in the use of the pencil.
+
+
+[44] Robertson of Struan, cousin-german of Lady Nairn's mother, and a
+conspicuous Jacobite chief, composed many fugitive verses for the
+amusement of his friends; and a collection of them, said to have been
+surreptitiously obtained from a servant, was published, without a date,
+under the following title:--"Poems on various Subjects and Occasions, by
+the Honourable Alexander Robertson of Struan, Esq.--mostly taken from
+his own original Manuscripts." Edinburgh, 8vo.
+
+[45] Writing to one of her correspondents, in November 1840, Lady Nairn
+thus remarks--"I sometimes say to myself, 'This is no me,' so greatly
+have my feelings and trains of thought changed since 'auld lang syne;'
+and, though I am made to know assuredly that all is well, I scarcely
+dare to allow my mind to settle on the past."
+
+[46] A daughter of Baron Hume was one of the ladies who induced Lady
+Nairn to become a contributor to "The Scottish Minstrel." Many of the
+songs were sent to the Editor through the medium of Miss Hume. She thus
+expresses herself in a letter to a friend:--"My father's admiration of
+'The Land o' the Leal' was such, that he said no woman but Miss Ferrier
+was capable of writing it. And when I used to shew him song after song
+in MS., when I was receiving the anonymous verses for the music, and ask
+his criticism, he said--'Your unknown poetess has only _one_, or rather
+_two_, letters out of taste, viz., choosing "B. B." for her signature.'"
+
+
+
+
+THE PLEUGHMAN.[47]
+
+
+ There 's high and low, there 's rich and poor,
+ There 's trades and crafts enew, man;
+ But, east and west, his trade 's the best,
+ That kens to guide the pleugh, man.
+ Then, come, weel speed my pleughman lad,
+ And hey my merry pleughman;
+ Of a' the trades that I do ken,
+ Commend me to the pleughman.
+
+ His dreams are sweet upon his bed,
+ His cares are light and few, man;
+ His mother's blessing 's on his head,
+ That tents her weel, the pleughman.
+ Then, come, weel speed, &c.
+
+ The lark, sae sweet, that starts to meet
+ The morning fresh and new, man;
+ Blythe though she be, as blythe is he
+ That sings as sweet, the pleughman.
+ Then, come, weel speed, &c.
+
+ All fresh and gay, at dawn of day
+ Their labours they renew, man;
+ Heaven bless the seed, and bless the soil,
+ And Heaven bless the pleughman.
+ Then, come, weel speed, &c.
+
+
+[47] This seems to have been the author's first composition in Scottish
+verse. See the Memoir.
+
+
+
+
+CALLER HERRIN'.[48]
+
+
+ Wha 'll buy caller herrin'?
+ They 're bonnie fish and halesome farin';
+ Wha 'll buy caller herrin',
+ New drawn frae the Forth?
+
+ When ye were sleepin' on your pillows,
+ Dream'd ye ought o' our puir fellows,
+ Darkling as they faced the billows,
+ A' to fill the woven willows.
+ Buy my caller herrin',
+ New drawn frae the Forth.
+
+ Wha 'll buy my caller herrin'?
+ They 're no brought here without brave daring;
+ Buy my caller herrin',
+ Haul'd thro' wind and rain.
+ Wha 'll buy caller herrin'? &c.
+
+ Wha 'll buy my caller herrin'?
+ Oh, ye may ca' them vulgar farin'!
+ Wives and mithers, maist despairin',
+ Ca' them lives o' men.
+ Wha 'll buy caller herrin'? &c.
+
+ When the creel o' herrin' passes,
+ Ladies, clad in silks and laces,
+ Gather in their braw pelisses,
+ Cast their heads, and screw their faces.
+ Wha 'll buy caller herrin'? &c.
+
+ Caller herrin 's no got lightlie;
+ Ye can trip the spring fu' tightlie;
+ Spite o' tauntin', flauntin', flingin',
+ Gow has set you a' a-singin'.
+ Wha 'll buy caller herrin'? &c.
+
+ Neebour wives, now tent my tellin',
+ When the bonny fish ye 're sellin',
+ At ae word be in yer dealin'--
+ Truth will stand when a' thing 's failin'.
+ Wha 'll buy caller herrin'? &c.
+
+
+[48] This song has acquired an extensive popularity, for which it is
+much indebted, in addition to its intrinsic merits, to the musical
+powers of the late John Wilson, the eminent vocalist, whose premature
+death is a source of regret to all lovers of Scottish melody. Mr Wilson
+sung this song in every principal town of the United Kingdom, and always
+with effect.
+
+
+
+
+THE LAND O' THE LEAL.[49]
+
+
+ I 'm wearin' awa', John,
+ Like snaw wreaths in thaw, John;
+ I 'm wearin' awa'
+ To the land o' the leal.
+ There 's nae sorrow there, John;
+ There 's neither cauld nor care, John;
+ The day 's aye fair
+ I' the land o' the leal.
+
+ Our bonnie bairn 's there, John;
+ She was baith gude and fair, John;
+ And, oh! we grudged her sair
+ To the land o' the leal.
+ But sorrows sel' wears past, John,
+ And joy 's a-comin' fast, John--
+ The joy that 's aye to last
+ In the land o' the leal.
+
+ Sae dear 's that joy was bought, John,
+ Sae free the battle fought, John,
+ That sinfu' man e'er brought
+ To the land o' the leal.
+ Oh, dry your glist'ning e'e, John!
+ My saul langs to be free, John;
+ And angels beckon me
+ To the land o' the leal.
+
+ Oh, haud ye leal and true, John!
+ Your day it 's wearin' thro', John;
+ And I 'll welcome you
+ To the land o' the leal.
+ Now, fare ye weel, my ain John,
+ This warld's cares are vain, John;
+ We 'll meet, and we 'll be fain,
+ In the land o' the leal.
+
+
+[49] This exquisitely tender and beautiful lay was composed by Lady
+Nairn, for two married relatives of her own, Mr and Mrs C----, who had
+sustained bereavement in the death of a child. Such is the account of
+its origin which we have received from Lady Nairn's relatives.
+
+
+
+
+THE LAIRD O' COCKPEN.[50]
+
+ The Laird o' Cockpen he 's proud and he 's great,
+ His mind is ta'en up with the things o' the state;
+ He wanted a wife his braw house to keep,
+ But favour wi' wooin' was fashious to seek.
+
+ Down by the dyke-side a lady did dwell,
+ At his table-head he thought she 'd look well;
+ M'Clish's ae daughter o' Claverse-ha' Lee,
+ A penniless lass wi' a lang pedigree.
+
+ His wig was weel pouther'd, and as gude as new;
+ His waistcoat was white, his coat it was blue;
+ He put on a ring, a sword, and cock'd hat,
+ And wha' could refuse the Laird wi' a' that?
+
+ He took the gray mare, and rade cannily--
+ And rapp'd at the yett o' Claverse-ha' Lee;
+ "Gae tell Mistress Jean to come speedily ben,
+ She 's wanted to speak to the Laird o' Cockpen."
+
+ Mistress Jean was makin' the elder-flower wine,
+ "And what brings the Laird at sic a like time?"
+ She put aff her apron, and on her silk gown,
+ Her mutch wi' red ribbons, and gaed awa' down.
+
+ And when she cam' ben, he bowed fu' low,
+ And what was his errand he soon let her know;
+ Amazed was the Laird when the lady said "Na;"
+ And wi' a laigh curtsie she turned awa'.
+
+ Dumbfounder'd he was, nae sigh did he gie;
+ He mounted his mare--he rade cannily;
+ And aften he thought, as he gaed through the glen,
+ She 's daft to refuse the Laird o' Cockpen.
+
+ And now that the Laird his exit had made,
+ Mistress Jean she reflected on what she had said;
+ "Oh! for ane I 'll get better, it 's waur I 'll get ten,
+ I was daft to refuse the Laird o' Cockpen."
+
+ Next time that the Laird and the Lady were seen,
+ They were gaun arm-in-arm to the kirk on the green;
+ Now she sits in the ha' like a weel-tappit hen,
+ But as yet there 's nae chickens appear'd at Cockpen.
+
+
+[50] This humorous and highly popular song was composed by Lady Nairn
+towards the close of the last century, in place of the older words
+connected with the air, "When she came ben, she bobbit." The older
+version, which is entitled "Cockpen," is exceptional on the score of
+refinement, but was formerly sung on account of the excellence of the
+air. It is generally believed to be a composition of the reign of
+Charles II.; and the hero of the piece, "the Laird of Cockpen," is said
+to have been the companion in arms and attached friend of his sovereign.
+Of this personage an anecdote is recorded in some of the Collections.
+Having been engaged with his countrymen at the battle of Worcester, in
+the cause of Charles, he accompanied the unfortunate monarch to Holland,
+and, forming one of the little court at the Hague, amused his royal
+master by his humour, and especially by his skill in Scottish music. In
+playing the tune, "Brose and Butter," he particularly excelled; it
+became the favourite of the exiled monarch, and Cockpen had pleasure in
+gratifying the royal wish, that he might be lulled to sleep at night,
+and awakened in the morning by this enchanting air. At the Restoration,
+Cockpen found that his estate had been confiscated for his attachment to
+the king, and had the deep mortification to discover that he had
+suffered on behalf of an ungrateful prince, who gave no response to his
+many petitions and entreaties for the restoration of his possessions.
+Visiting London, he was even denied an audience; but he still
+entertained a hope that, by a personal conference with the king, he
+might attain his object. To accomplish this design, he had recourse to
+the following artifice:--He formed acquaintance with the organist of the
+chapel-royal, and obtained permission to officiate as his substitute
+when the king came to service. He did so with becoming propriety till
+the close of the service, when, instead of the solemn departing air, he
+struck up the monarch's old favourite, "Brose and Butter." The scheme,
+though bordering on profanity, succeeded in the manner intended. The
+king proceeding hastily to the organ-gallery, discovered Cockpen, whom
+he saluted familiarly, declaring that he had "almost made him dance." "I
+could dance too," said Cockpen, "if I had my lands again." The request,
+to which every entreaty could not gain a response, was yielded to the
+power of music and old association. Cockpen was restored to his
+inheritance. The modern ballad has been often attributed to Miss
+Ferrier, the accomplished author of "Marriage," and other popular
+novels. She only contributed the last two stanzas. The present Laird of
+Cockpen is the Marquis of Dalhousie.
+
+
+
+
+HER HOME SHE IS LEAVING.
+
+AIR--_"Mordelia."_
+
+
+ In all its rich wildness, her home she is leaving,
+ In sad and tearful silence grieving,
+ And still as the moment of parting is nearer,
+ Each long cherish'd object is fairer and dearer.
+ Not a grove or fresh streamlet but wakens reflection
+ Of hearts still and cold, that glow'd with affection;
+ Not a breeze that blows over the flowers of the wild wood,
+ But tells, as it passes, how blest was her childhood.
+
+ And how long must I leave thee, each fond look expresses,
+ Ye high rocky summits, ye ivy'd recesses!
+ How long must I leave thee, thou wood-shaded river,
+ The echoes all sigh--as they whisper--for ever!
+ Tho' the autumn winds rave, and the seared leaves fall,
+ And winter hangs out her cold icy pall--
+ Yet the footsteps of spring again ye will see,
+ And the singing of birds--but they sing not for me.
+
+ The joys of the past, more faintly recalling,
+ Sweet visions of peace on her spirit are falling,
+ And the soft wing of time, as it speeds for the morrow,
+ Wafts a gale, that is drying the dew-drops of sorrow.
+ Hope dawns--and the toils of life's journey beguiling,
+ The path of the mourner is cheer'd with its smiling;
+ And there her heart rests, and her wishes all centre,
+ Where parting is never--nor sorrow can enter.
+
+
+
+
+
+THE BONNIEST LASS IN A' THE WARLD.
+
+
+ The bonniest lass in a' the warld,
+ I 've often heard them telling,
+ She 's up the hill, she 's down the glen,
+ She 's in yon lonely dwelling.
+ But nane could bring her to my mind
+ Wha lives but in the fancy,
+ Is 't Kate, or Shusie, Jean, or May,
+ Is 't Effie, Bess, or Nancy?
+
+ Now lasses a' keep a gude heart,
+ Nor e'er envy a comrade,
+ For be your een black, blue, or gray,
+ Ye 're bonniest aye to some lad.
+ The tender heart, the charming smile,
+ The truth that ne'er will falter,
+ Are charms that never can beguile,
+ And time can never alter.
+
+
+
+
+MY AIN KIND DEARIE, O![51]
+
+
+ Will ye gang ower the lea-rig,
+ My ain kind dearie, O?
+ Will ye gang ower the lea-rig,
+ My ain kind dearie, O?
+ Gin ye'll tak heart, and gang wi' me,
+ Mishap will never steer ye, O;
+ Gude luck lies ower the lea-rig,
+ My ain kind dearie, O!
+
+ There 's walth ower yon green lea-rig,
+ My ain kind dearie, O!
+ There 's walth ower yon green lea-rig,
+ My ain kind dearie, O!
+ Its neither land, nor gowd, nor braws--
+ Let them gang tapsle teerie, O!
+ It 's walth o' peace, o' love, and truth,
+ My ain kind dearie, O!
+
+
+[51] The first two lines of this song are borrowed from the "Lea-Rig," a
+lively and popular lyric, of which the first two verses were composed by
+Robert Fergusson, the three remaining being added by William Reid of
+Glasgow. (See _ante_, article "William Reid.")
+
+
+
+
+HE'S LIFELESS AMANG THE RUDE BILLOWS.
+
+AIR--_"The Muckin' o' Geordie's Byre."_
+
+
+ He 's lifeless amang the rude billows,
+ My tears and my sighs are in vain;
+ The heart that beat warm for his Jeanie,
+ Will ne'er beat for mortal again.
+ My lane now I am i' the warld,
+ And the daylight is grievous to me;
+ The laddie that lo'ed me sae dearly
+ Lies cauld in the deeps o' the sea.
+
+ Ye tempests, sae boist'rously raging,
+ Rage on as ye list--or be still;
+ This heart ye sae often hae sicken'd,
+ Is nae mair the sport o' your will.
+ Now heartless, I hope not--I fear not,--
+ High Heaven hae pity on me!
+ My soul, tho' dismay'd and distracted,
+ Yet bends to thy awful decree.
+
+
+
+
+JOY OF MY EARLIEST DAYS.
+
+AIR--_"I'll never leave thee."_
+
+
+ Joy of my earliest days,
+ Why must I grieve thee?
+ Theme of my fondest lays,
+ Oh, I maun leave thee!
+ Leave thee, love! leave thee, love!
+ How shall I leave thee?
+ Absence thy truth will prove,
+ For, oh! I maun leave thee!
+
+ When on yon mossy stane,
+ Wild weeds o'ergrowin',
+ Ye sit at e'en your lane,
+ And hear the burn rowin';
+ Oh! think on this partin' hour,
+ Down by the Garry,
+ And to Him that has a' the pow'r,
+ Commend me, my Mary!
+
+
+
+
+OH, WEEL'S ME ON MY AIN MAN.
+
+AIR--_"Landlady count the lawin'."_
+
+
+ Oh, weel's me on my ain man,
+ My ain man, my ain man!
+ Oh, weel's me on my ain gudeman!
+ He 'll aye be welcome hame.
+
+ I 'm wae I blamed him yesternight,
+ For now my heart is feather light;
+ For gowd I wadna gie the sight;
+ I see him linking ower the height.
+ Oh, weel's me on my ain man, &c.
+
+ Rin, Jamie, bring the kebbuck ben,
+ And fin' aneath the speckled hen;
+ Meg, rise and sweep about the fire,
+ Syne cry on Johnnie frae the byre.
+ For weel's me on my ain man,
+ My ain man, my ain man!
+ For weel's me on my ain gudeman!
+ I see him linkin' hame.
+
+
+
+
+KIND ROBIN LOE'S ME.[52]
+
+
+ Robin is my ain gudeman,
+ Now match him, carlins, gin ye can,
+ For ilk ane whitest thinks her swan,
+ But kind Robin lo'es me.
+ To mak my boast I 'll e'en be bauld,
+ For Robin lo'ed me young and auld,
+ In summer's heat and winter's cauld,
+ My kind Robin lo'es me.
+
+ Robin he comes hame at e'en
+ Wi' pleasure glancin' in his e'en;
+ He tells me a' he 's heard and seen,
+ And syne how he lo'es me.
+ There 's some hae land, and some hae gowd,
+ Mair wad hae them gin they could,
+ But a' I wish o' warld's guid,
+ Is Robin still to lo'e me.
+
+
+[52] The author seems to have composed these stanzas as a sequel to a
+wooing song of the same name, beginning, "Robin is my only jo," which
+first appeared in Herd's Collection in 1776. There are some older words
+to the same air, but these are coarse, and are not to be found in any of
+the modern Collections.
+
+
+
+
+KITTY REID'S HOUSE.
+
+AIR--_"Country Bumpkin."_
+
+
+ Hech, hey! the mirth that was there,
+ The mirth that was there,
+ The mirth that was there;
+ Hech, how! the mirth that was there,
+ In Kitty Reid's house on the green, Jo!
+ There was laughin' and singin', and dancin' and glee,
+ In Kitty's Reid's house, in Kitty Reid's house,
+ There was laughin' and singin', and dancin' and glee,
+ In Kitty Reid's house on the green, Jo!
+
+ Hech, hey! the fright that was there,
+ The fright that was there,
+ The fright that was there;
+ Hech, how! the fright that was there,
+ In Kitty Reid's house on the green, Jo!
+ The light glimmer'd in through a crack i' the wa',
+ An' a'body thocht the lift it wad fa',
+ And lads and lasses they soon ran awa'
+ Frae Kitty's Reid's house on the green, Jo!
+
+ Hech, hey! the dule that was there,
+ The dule that was there,
+ The dule that was there;
+ The birds and beasts it wauken'd them a',
+ In Kitty Reid's house on the green, Jo!
+ The wa' gaed a hurley, and scatter'd them a',
+ The piper, the fiddler, auld Kitty, and a';
+ The kye fell a routin', the cocks they did craw,
+ In Kitty Reid's house on the green, Jo!
+
+
+
+
+THE ROBIN'S NEST.
+
+AIR--_"Lochiel's awa' to France."_
+
+
+ Their nest was in the leafy bush,
+ Sae soft and warm, sae soft and warm,
+ And Robins thought their little brood
+ All safe from harm, all safe from harm.
+ The morning's feast with joy they brought,
+ To feed their young wi' tender care;
+ The plunder'd leafy bush they found,
+ But nest and nestlings saw nae mair.
+
+ The mother cou'dna leave the spot,
+ But wheeling round, and wheeling round,
+ The cruel spoiler aim'd a shot,
+ Cured her heart's wound, cured her heart's wound.
+ She will not hear their helpless cry,
+ Nor see them pine in slavery!
+ The burning breast she will not bide,
+ For wrongs of wanton knavery.
+
+ Oh! bonny Robin Redbreast,
+ Ye trust in men, ye trust in men,
+ But what their hard hearts are made o',
+ Ye little ken, ye little ken.
+ They 'll ne'er wi' your wee skin be warm'd,
+ Nor wi' your tiny flesh be fed,
+ But just 'cause you 're a living thing,
+ It 's sport wi' them to lay you dead.
+
+ Ye Hieland and ye Lowland lads,
+ As birdies gay, as birdies gay,
+ Oh, spare them, whistling like yoursel's,
+ And hopping blythe from spray to spray!
+ Their wings were made to soar aloft,
+ And skim the air at liberty;
+ And as you freedom gi'e to them,
+ May you and yours be ever free!
+
+
+
+
+SAW YE NAE MY PEGGY?[53]
+
+
+ Saw ye nae my Peggy?
+ Saw ye nae my Peggy?
+ Saw ye nae my Peggy comin'
+ Through Tillibelton's broom?
+ I 'm frae Aberdagie,
+ Ower the crafts o' Craigie,
+ For aught I ken o' Peggie,
+ She 's ayont the moon.
+
+ 'Twas but at the dawin',
+ Clear the cock was crawin',
+ I saw Peggy cawin'
+ Hawky by the brier.
+ Early bells were ringin',
+ Blythest birds were singin',
+ Sweetest flowers were springin',
+ A' her heart to cheer.
+
+ Now the tempest's blawin',
+ Almond water 's flowin',
+ Deep and ford unknowin',
+ She maun cross the day.
+ Almond waters, spare her,
+ Safe to Lynedoch bear her!
+ Its braes ne'er saw a fairer,
+ Bess Bell nor Mary Gray.
+
+ Oh, now to be wi' her!
+ Or but ance to see her
+ Skaithless, far or near,
+ I 'd gie Scotland's crown.
+ Byeword, blind 's a lover--
+ Wha 's yon I discover?
+ Just yer ain fair rover,
+ Stately stappin' down.
+
+
+[53] Another song with the same title, "Saw ye nae my Peggy?" is
+inserted in the Collections. It first appeared in Herd's Collection, in
+1769, though it is understood to be of a considerably older date. Allan
+Ramsay composed two songs to the same air, but they are both inferior.
+The air is believed to have originally been connected with some
+exceptionable words, beginning, "Saw ye my Maggie?"
+
+
+
+
+GUDE NICHT, AND JOY BE WI' YE A'!
+
+
+ The best o' joys maun hae an end,
+ The best o' friends maun part, I trow;
+ The langest day will wear away,
+ And I maun bid fareweel to you.
+ The tear will tell when hearts are fu',
+ For words, gin they hae sense ava,
+ They 're broken, faltering, and few:
+ Gude nicht, and joy be wi' you a'!
+
+ Oh, we hae wander'd far and wide,
+ O'er Scotia's lands o' frith and fell!
+ And mony a simple flower we 've pu'd,
+ And twined it wi' the heather-bell.
+ We 've ranged the dingle and the dell,
+ The cot-house, and the baron's ha';
+ Now we maun tak a last farewell:
+ Gude nicht, and joy be wi' you a'!
+
+ My harp, fareweel! thy strains are past,
+ Of gleefu' mirth, and heartfelt care;
+ The voice of song maun cease at last,
+ And minstrelsy itsel' decay.
+ But, oh! whar sorrow canna win,
+ Nor parting tears are shed ava',
+ May we meet neighbour, kith, and kin,
+ And joy for aye be wi' us a'!
+
+
+
+
+CAULD KAIL IN ABERDEEN.[54]
+
+
+ There 's cauld kail in Aberdeen,
+ There 's castocks in Strabogie;
+ And morn and e'en, they 're blythe and bein,
+ That haud them frae the cogie.
+ Now, haud ye frae the cogie, lads;
+ O bide ye frae the cogie!
+ I 'll tell ye true, ye 'll never rue,
+ O' passin' by the cogie.
+
+ Young Will was braw and weel put on,
+ Sae blythe was he and vogie;
+ And he got bonnie Mary Don,
+ The flower o' a' Strabogie.
+ Wha wad hae thocht, at wooin' time,
+ He 'd e'er forsaken Mary,
+ And ta'en him to the tipplin' trade,
+ Wi' boozin' Rob and Harry?
+
+ Sair Mary wrought, sair Mary grat,
+ She scarce could lift the ladle;
+ Wi' pithless feet, 'tween ilka greet,
+ She 'd rock the borrow'd cradle.
+ Her weddin' plenishin' was gane,
+ She never thocht to borrow:
+ Her bonnie face was waxin' wan--
+ And Will wrought a' the sorrow.
+
+ He 's reelin' hame ae winter's nicht,
+ Some later than the gloamin';
+ He 's ta'en the rig, he 's miss'd the brig,
+ And Bogie 's ower him foamin'.
+ Wi' broken banes, out ower the stanes,
+ He creepit up Strabogie;
+ And a' the nicht he pray'd wi' micht,
+ To keep him frae the cogie.
+
+ Now Mary's heart is light again--
+ She 's neither sick nor silly;
+ For auld or young, nae sinfu' tongue,
+ Could e'er entice her Willie;
+ And aye the sang through Bogie rang--
+ "O had ye frae the cogie;
+ The weary gill 's the sairest ill
+ On braes o' fair Strabogie."
+
+
+[54] This excellent ballad is the fourth version adapted to the air,
+"Cauld Kail in Aberdeen." Some notice of the three former will be found
+_ante_, p. 46.
+
+
+
+
+HE'S OWER THE HILLS THAT I LO'E WEEL.
+
+
+ He 's ower the hills that I lo'e weel,
+ He 's ower the hills we daurna name;
+ He 's ower the hills ayont Dunblane,
+ Wha soon will get his welcome hame.
+
+ My father's gane to fight for him,
+ My brithers winna bide at hame;
+ My mither greets and prays for them,
+ And 'deed she thinks they 're no to blame.
+ He 's ower the hills, &c.
+
+ The Whigs may scoff, the Whigs may jeer;
+ But, ah! that love maun be sincere
+ Which still keeps true whate'er betide,
+ An' for his sake leaves a' beside.
+ He 's ower the hills, &c.
+
+ His right these hills, his right these plains;
+ Ower Hieland hearts secure he reigns;
+ What lads e'er did our laddies will do;
+ Were I a laddie, I'd follow him too.
+ He 's ower the hills, &c.
+
+ Sae noble a look, sae princely an air,
+ Sae gallant and bold, sae young and sae fair;
+ Oh, did ye but see him, ye 'd do as we've done!
+ Hear him but ance, to his standard you 'll run.
+ He 's ower the hills, &c.
+
+ Then draw the claymore, for Charlie then fight;
+ For your country, religion, and a' that is right;
+ Were ten thousand lives now given to me,
+ I 'd die as aft for ane o' the three.
+ He 's ower the hills, &c.
+
+
+
+
+THE LASS O' GOWRIE.[55]
+
+AIR--_"Loch Erroch Side."_
+
+
+ 'Twas on a summer's afternoon,
+ A wee afore the sun gaed down,
+ A lassie, wi' a braw new gown,
+ Cam' ower the hills to Gowrie.
+ The rose-bud, wash'd in summer's shower,
+ Bloom'd fresh within the sunny bower;
+ But Kitty was the fairest flower
+ That e'er was seen in Gowrie.
+
+ To see her cousin she cam' there,
+ An', oh, the scene was passing fair!
+ For what in Scotland can compare
+ Wi' the Carse o' Gowrie?
+ The sun was setting on the Tay,
+ The blue hills melting into gray;
+ The mavis' and the blackbird's lay
+ Were sweetly heard in Gowrie.
+
+ Oh, lang the lassie I had woo'd!
+ An' truth and constancy had vow'd,
+ But cam' nae speed wi' her I lo'ed,
+ Until she saw fair Gowrie.
+ I pointed to my faither's ha',
+ Yon bonnie bield ayont the shaw,
+ Sae loun' that there nae blast could blaw;
+ Wad she no bide in Gowrie?
+
+ Her faither was baith glad and wae;
+ Her mither she wad naething say;
+ The bairnies thocht they wad get play
+ If Kitty gaed to Gowrie.
+ She whiles did smile, she whiles did greet,
+ The blush and tear were on her cheek;
+ She naething said, an' hung her head;
+ But now she's Leddy Gowrie.
+
+
+[55] There are several other versions of this highly popular song. One
+of these, the composition of William Reid of Glasgow, has already been
+adduced. See _ante_, p. 157. Another, which is one of the most
+celebrated, in the first two verses is nearly the same with the opening
+stanzas of Lady Nairn's version, the sequel proceeding as follows:--
+
+ I praised her beauty loud an' lang,
+ Then round her waist my arms I flang,
+ And said, "My dearie, will ye gang
+ To see the Carse o' Gowrie?
+
+ "I'll tak ye to my father's ha',
+ In yon green field beside the shaw;
+ I'll mak you lady o' them a'--
+ The brawest wife in Gowrie."
+
+ Soft kisses on her lips I laid,
+ The blush upon her cheek soon spread;
+ She whisper'd modestly, and said,
+ "I'll gang wi' you to Gowrie."
+
+ The auld folks soon ga'e their consent,
+ Syne for Mess John they quickly sent,
+ Wha tied them to their heart's content,
+ And now she's Lady Gowrie.
+
+Mr Lyle, in his "Ancient Ballads and Songs" (Lond. 1827, 12mo, p. 138),
+presents an additional version, which we subjoin. Mr Lyle remarks, that
+he had revised it from an old stall copy, ascribed to Colonel James
+Ramsay of Stirling Castle.
+
+ THE BONNIE LASS O' GOWRIE.
+
+ A wee bit north frae yon green wood,
+ Whar draps the sunny showerie,
+ The lofty elm-trees spread their boughs,
+ To shade the braes o' Gowrie;
+ An' by yon burn ye scarce can see,
+ There stan's a rustic bowerie,
+ Whar lives a lass mair dear to me
+ Than a' the maids in Gowrie.
+
+ Nae gentle bard e'er sang her praise,
+ 'Cause fortune ne'er left dowrie;
+ The rose blaws sweetest in the shade,
+ So does the flower o' Gowrie.
+ When April strews her garlands roun',
+ Her bare foot treads the flowerie;
+ Her sang gars a' the woodlands ring,
+ That shade the braes o' Gowrie.
+
+ Her modest blush an' downcast e'e,
+ A flame sent beating through me;
+ For she surpasses all I've seen,
+ This peerless flower o' Gowrie.
+ I've lain upon the dewy green
+ Until the evening hourie,
+ An' thought gin e'er I durst ca' mine
+ The bonnie lass o' Gowrie.
+
+ The bushes that o'erhang the burn,
+ Sae verdant and sae flowerie,
+ Can witness that I love alane
+ The bonnie lass o' Gowrie.
+ Let ithers dream an' sigh for wealth,
+ An' fashions fleet and flowery;
+ Gi'e me that heav'nly innocence
+ Upon the braes o' Gowrie.
+
+
+
+
+THERE GROWS A BONNIE BRIER BUSH.[56]
+
+
+ There grows a bonnie brier bush in our kail-yard,
+ And white are the blossoms o't in our kail-yard,
+ Like wee bit white cockauds to deck our Hieland lads,
+ And the lasses lo'e the bonnie bush in our kail-yard.
+
+ An' it 's hame, an' it 's hame to the north countrie,
+ An' it 's hame, an' it 's hame to the north countrie,
+ Where my bonnie Jean is waiting for me,
+ Wi' a heart kind and true, in my ain countrie.
+
+ "But were they a' true that were far awa?
+ Oh! were they a' true that were far awa'?
+ They drew up wi' glaikit Englishers at Carlisle Ha',
+ And forgot auld frien's that were far awa.
+
+ "Ye 'll come nae mair, Jamie, where aft ye 've been,
+ Ye 'll come nae mair, Jamie, to Atholl's green;
+ Ye lo'ed ower weel the dancin' at Carlisle Ha',
+ And forgot the Hieland hills that were far awa'."
+
+ "I ne'er lo'ed a dance but on Atholl's green,
+ I ne'er lo'ed a lassie but my dorty Jean,
+ Sair, sair against my will did I bide sae lang awa',
+ And my heart was aye in Atholl's green at Carlisle Ha'."
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ The brier bush was bonnie ance in our kail-yard;
+ The brier bush was bonnie ance in our kail-yard;
+ A blast blew ower the hill, that gae Atholl's flowers a chill,
+ And the bloom 's blawn aff the bonnie bush in our kail-yard.
+
+
+[56] The present is an amended version of an old song, entitled "The
+Bonnie Brier Bush," altered and added to by Burns for the "Musical
+Museum."
+
+
+
+
+JOHN TOD.
+
+
+ He 's a terrible man, John Tod, John Tod,
+ He 's a terrible man, John Tod;
+ He scolds in the house,
+ He scolds at the door,
+ He scolds on the vera hie road, John Tod,
+ He scolds on the vera hie road.
+
+ The weans a' fear John Tod, John Tod,
+ The weans a' fear John Tod;
+ When he 's passing by,
+ The mithers will cry,--
+ Here 's an ill wean, John Tod, John Tod,
+ Here 's an ill wean, John Tod.
+
+ The callants a' fear John Tod, John Tod,
+ The callants a' fear John Tod;
+ If they steal but a neep,
+ The callant he 'll whip,
+ And it 's unco weel done o' John Tod, John Tod,
+ It 's unco weel done o' John Tod.
+
+ An' saw ye nae wee John Tod, John Tod?
+ Oh, saw ye nae wee John Tod?
+ His bannet was blue,
+ His shoon maistly new,
+ An' weel does he keep the kirk road, John Tod,
+ Oh, weel does he keep the kirk road.
+
+ How is he fendin', John Tod, John Tod?
+ How is he wendin', John Tod?
+ He 's scourin' the land,
+ Wi' his rung in his hand,
+ An' the French wadna frighten John Tod, John Tod,
+ An' the French wadna frighten John Tod.
+
+ Ye 're sun-brunt and batter'd, John Tod, John Tod
+ Ye 're tantit and tatter'd, John Tod;
+ Wi' your auld strippit coul,
+ Ye look maist like a fule,
+ But there 's nouse i' the lining,[57] John Tod, John Tod,
+ But there 's nouse i' the lining, John Tod.
+
+ He 's weel respeckit, John Tod, John Tod,
+ He 's weel respeckit, John Tod;
+ He 's a terrible man,
+ But we 'd a' gae wrang
+ If e'er he sud leave us, John Tod, John Tod,
+ If e'er he sud leave us, John Tod.
+
+
+[57] A familiar Scottish phrase for good sense.
+
+
+
+
+WILL YE NO COME BACK AGAIN?
+
+
+ Bonnie Charlie 's now awa',
+ Safely ower the friendly main;
+ Mony a heart will break in twa
+ Should he ne'er come back again.
+ Will ye no come back again?
+ Will ye no come back again?
+ Better lo'ed ye canna be--
+ Will ye no come back again?
+
+ Ye trusted in your Hieland men,
+ They trusted you, dear Charlie!
+ They kent your hiding in the glen,
+ Death or exile braving.
+ Will ye no, &c.
+
+ English bribes were a' in vain,
+ Tho' puir, and puirer, we maun be;
+ Siller canna buy the heart
+ That beats aye for thine and thee.
+ Will ye no, &c.
+
+ We watch'd thee in the gloamin' hour,
+ We watch'd thee in the mornin' gray;
+ Though thirty thousand pound they gi'e,
+ Oh, there is none that wad betray!
+ Will ye no, &c.
+
+ Sweet 's the laverock's note, and lang,
+ Lilting wildly up the glen;
+ But aye to me he sings ae sang,
+ Will ye no come back again?
+ Will ye no, &c.
+
+
+
+
+JAMIE THE LAIRD.
+
+AIR--_"The Rock and the Wee Pickle Tow."_
+
+
+ Send a horse to the water, ye 'll no mak him drink,
+ Send a fule to the college, ye 'll no mak him think;
+ Send a craw to the singin', an' still he will craw,
+ An' the wee laird had nae rummulgumshion ava.
+ Yet is he the pride o' his fond mother's e'e,
+ In body or mind, nae fau't can she see;
+ "He 's a fell clever lad, an' a bonny wee man,"
+ Is aye the beginnin' an' end o' her sang.
+ An' oh! she 's a haverin' lucky, I trow,
+ An' oh! she 's a haverin' lucky, I trow;
+ "He 's a fell clever lad, an' a bonny wee man,"
+ Is aye the beginnin' an' end o' her sang.
+
+ His legs they are bow'd, his een they do glee,
+ His wig, whiles it 's aff, and when on, it 's ajee;
+ He 's braid as he 's lang, an' ill-faur'd is he,
+ A dafter-like body I never did see.
+ An' yet for this cratur' she says I am deein',
+ When that I deny, she 's fear'd at my leein';
+ Obliged to put up wi' this sair defamation,
+ I'm liken to dee wi' grief an' vexation.
+ An' oh! she 's a haverin' lucky, &c.
+
+ An' her clishmaclavers gang a' through the toun,
+ An' the wee lairdie trows I 'll hang or I 'll droun.
+ Wi' his gawky-like face, yestreen he did say,
+ "I 'll maybe tak you, for Bess I 'll no hae,
+ Nor Mattie, nor Effie, nor lang-legged Jeanie,
+ Nor Nelly, nor Katie, nor skirlin' wee Beenie."
+ I stappit my ears, ran aff in a fury--
+ I 'm thinkin' to bring them afore judge an' jury.
+ For oh! what a randy auld luckie is she, &c.
+
+ Freen's! gi'e your advice!--I 'll follow your counsel--
+ Maun I speak to the Provost, or honest Toun Council,
+ Or the writers, or lawyers, or doctors? now say,
+ For the law on the lucky I shall an' will hae.
+ The hale toun at me are jibin' and jeerin',
+ For a leddy like me it 's really past bearin';
+ The lucky maun now hae dune wi' her claverin',
+ For I 'll no put up wi' her nor her haverin'.
+ For oh! she 's a randy, I trow, I trow,
+ For oh! she 's a randy, I trow, I trow;
+ "He 's a fell clever lad, an' a bonny wee man,"
+ Is aye the beginnin' an' end o' her sang.
+
+
+
+
+SONGS OF MY NATIVE LAND.
+
+AIR--_"Happy Land."_
+
+
+ Songs of my native land,
+ To me how dear!
+ Songs of my infancy,
+ Sweet to mine ear!
+ Entwined with my youthful days,
+ Wi' the bonny banks and braes,
+ Where the winding burnie strays,
+ Murmuring near.
+
+ Strains of my native land,
+ That thrill the soul,
+ Pouring the magic of
+ Your soft control!
+ Often has your minstrelsy
+ Soothed the pang of misery,
+ Winging rapid thoughts away
+ To realms on high.
+
+ Weary pilgrims _there_ have rest,
+ Their wand'rings o'er;
+ There the slave, no more oppress'd,
+ Hails Freedom's shore.
+ Sin shall then no more deface,
+ Sickness, pain, and sorrow cease,
+ Ending in eternal peace,
+ And songs of joy!
+
+ There, when the seraphs sing,
+ In cloudless day;
+ There, where the higher praise
+ The ransom'd pay.
+ Soft strains of the happy land,
+ Chanted by the heavenly band,
+ Who can fully understand
+ How sweet ye be!
+
+
+
+
+CASTELL GLOOM.[58]
+
+
+ Oh, Castell Gloom! thy strength is gone,
+ The green grass o'er thee growin';
+ On hill of _Care_ thou art alone,
+ The _Sorrow_ round thee flowin'.
+ Oh, Castell Gloom! on thy fair wa's
+ Nae banners now are streamin',
+ The houlet flits amang thy ha's,
+ And wild birds there are screamin'.
+ Oh! mourn the woe, oh! mourn the crime,
+ Frae civil war that flows;
+ Oh! mourn, Argyll, thy fallen line,
+ And mourn the great Montrose.
+
+ Here ladies bright were aften seen,
+ Here valiant warriors trod;
+ And here great Knox has aften been,
+ Wha fear'd nought but his God!
+ But a' are gane! the guid, the great,
+ And naething now remains,
+ But ruin sittin' on thy wa's,
+ And crumblin' down the stanes.
+ Oh! mourn the woe, &c.
+
+ Thy lofty Ochils bright did glow,
+ Though sleepin' was the sun;
+ But mornin's light did sadly show,
+ What ragin' flames had done.
+ Oh, mirk, mirk was the misty cloud,
+ That hung o'er thy wild wood!
+ Thou wert like beauty in a shroud,
+ And all was solitude.
+ Oh! mourn the woe, &c.
+
+
+[58] Castle Gloom, better known as Castle Campbell, was a residence of
+the noble family of Argyll, from the middle of the fifteenth till the
+middle of the seventeenth century, when it was burnt by the Marquis of
+Montrose--an enterprise to which he was excited by the Ogilvies, who
+thus sought revenge for the destruction, by the Marquis of Argyll, of
+the "bonnie house of Airlie." The castle is situated on a promontory of
+the Ochil hills, near the village of Dollar, in Clackmannanshire, and
+has long been in the ruinous condition described in the song. Two hill
+rivulets, designated _Sorrow_ and _Care_, proceed on either side of the
+castle promontory. John Knox, the Reformer, for some time resided in
+Castle Gloom, with Archibald, fourth Earl of Argyll, and here preached
+the Reformed doctrines.
+
+
+
+
+BONNIE GASCON HA'.
+
+
+ Lane, on the winding Earn there stands
+ An unco tow'r, sae stern an' auld,
+ Biggit by lang forgotten hands,
+ Ance refuge o' the Wallace bauld.
+
+ Time's restless fingers sair hath waur'd
+ And rived thy gray disjaskit wa',
+ But rougher hands nor Time's hae daur'd
+ To wrang thee, bonnie Gascon Ha'!
+
+ Oh, may a muse unkent to fame
+ For this dim greesome relic sue,
+ It 's linkit wi' a patriot's name,
+ The truest Scotland ever knew.
+
+ Just leave in peace each mossy stane
+ Tellin' o' nations' rivalry,
+ An' for succeeding ages hain
+ Remains o' Scottish chivalry.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ What though no monument to thee
+ Is biggit by thy country's hand;
+ Engraved are thy immortal deeds
+ On every heart o' this braid land.
+
+ Rude Time may monuments ding doun,
+ An' tow'rs an' wa's maun a' decay;
+ Enduring, deathless, noble chief,
+ Thy name can never pass away!
+
+ Gi'e pillar'd fame to common men,--
+ Nae need o' cairns for ane like thee;
+ In every cave, wood, hill, and glen,
+ "WALLACE" remember'd aye shall be.
+
+
+
+
+THE AULD HOUSE.
+
+
+ Oh, the auld house, the auld house!
+ What though the rooms were wee?
+ Oh, kind hearts were dwelling there,
+ And bairnies fu' o' glee!
+ The wild-rose and the jesamine
+ Still hang upon the wa';
+ How mony cherish'd memories
+ Do they, sweet flowers, reca'!
+
+ Oh, the auld laird, the auld laird!
+ Sae canty, kind, and crouse;
+ How mony did he welcome to
+ His ain wee dear auld house!
+ And the leddy too, sae genty,
+ There shelter'd Scotland's heir,
+ And clipt a lock wi' her ain hand
+ Frae his lang yellow hair.
+
+ The mavis still doth sweetly sing,
+ The blue bells sweetly blaw,
+ The bonnie Earn 's clear winding still,
+ But the auld house is awa'.
+ The auld house, the auld house,
+ Deserted though ye be,
+ There ne'er can be a new house,
+ Will seem sae fair to me.
+
+ Still flourishing the auld pear tree
+ The bairnies liked to see,
+ And oh, how aften did they speir
+ When ripe they a' wad be!
+ The voices sweet, the wee bit feet
+ Aye rinnin' here and there,
+ The merry shout--oh! whiles we greet
+ To think we 'll hear nae mair.
+
+ For they are a' wide scatter'd now,
+ Some to the Indies gane,
+ And ane, alas! to her lang hame;
+ Not here we 'll meet again.
+ The kirkyaird, the kirkyaird,
+ Wi' flowers o' every hue,
+ Shelter'd by the holly's shade,
+ An' the dark sombre yew.
+
+ The setting sun, the setting sun,
+ How glorious it gaed down;
+ The cloudy splendour raised our hearts
+ To cloudless skies aboon!
+ The auld dial, the auld dial,
+ It tauld how time did pass;
+ The wintry winds hae dung it down,--
+ Now hid 'mang weeds and grass.
+
+
+
+
+THE HUNDRED PIPERS.[59]
+
+AIR--_"Hundred Pipers."_
+
+
+ Wi' a hundred pipers, an' a', an' a',
+ Wi' a hundred pipers, an' a', an' a',
+ We 'll up, and we 'll gi'e them a blaw, a blaw,
+ Wi' a hundred pipers, an' a', an' a'.
+ It is ower the border, awa', awa',
+ It is ower the border, awa', awa',
+ Oh, we 'll on, an' we 'll march to Carlisle ha',
+ Wi' its yetts, its castel, an' a', an' a'.
+
+ Oh, our brave sodger lads look'd braw, an' braw,
+ Wi' their tartans, their kilts, an' a', an' a',
+ Wi' bannets an' feathers, an' glittrin' gear,
+ An' pibrochs soundin' sae sweet an' clear.
+ Will they a' come hame to their ain dear glen?
+ Will they a' return, our brave Hieland men?
+ Oh, second-sighted Sandie look'd fu' wae,
+ An' mithers grat sair whan they march'd away.
+ Wi' a hundred pipers, &c.
+
+ Oh, wha is the foremaist o' a', o' a'?
+ Wha is it first follows the blaw, the blaw?
+ Bonnie Charlie, the king o' us a', us a',
+ Wi' his hundred pipers, an' a', an' a'.
+ His bannet and feather, he 's waving high,
+ His prancin' steed maist seems to fly;
+ The nor' wind plays wi' his curly hair,
+ While the pipers blaw up an unco flare!
+ Wi' his hundred pipers, &c.
+
+ The Esk was swollen sae red an' sae deep,
+ But shouther to shouther the brave lads keep;
+ Twa thousand swam ower to fell English ground,
+ An' danced themselves dry to the pibroch sound.
+ Dumfounder'd the English were a', were a',
+ Dumfounder'd they a' heard the blaw, the blaw,
+ Dumfounder'd they a' ran awa', awa',
+ Frae the hundred pipers, an' a', an' a'.
+ Wi' a hundred pipers, &c.
+
+
+[59] "Charles Edward entered Carlisle preceded by a hundred pipers. Two
+thousand Highlanders crossed the Esk, at Longtown; the tide being
+swollen, nothing was seen of them but their heads and shoulders; they
+stemmed the force of the stream, and lost not a man in the passage: when
+landed, the pipers struck up, and they danced reels until they were dry
+again."--_Authentic Account of Occupation of Carlisle, by George G.
+Monsey._
+
+
+
+
+THE WOMEN ARE A' GANE WUD.[60]
+
+
+ The women are a' gane wud,
+ Oh, that he had biden awa'!
+ He 's turn'd their heads, the lad,
+ And ruin will bring on us a'.
+ George was a peaceable man,
+ My wife she did doucely behave;
+ But now dae a' that I can,
+ She 's just as wild as the lave.
+
+ My wife she wears the cockade,
+ Tho' I 've bidden her no to do sae,
+ She has a true friend in her maid,
+ And they ne'er mind a word that I say.
+ The wild Hieland lads as they pass,
+ The yetts wide open do flee;
+ They eat the very house bare,
+ And nae leave 's speer'd o' me.
+
+ I 've lived a' my days in the Strath
+ Now Tories infest me at hame,
+ And tho' I tak nae side at a',
+ Baith sides will gae me the blame.
+ The senseless creturs ne'er think
+ What ill the lad wad bring back;
+ The Pope we 'd hae, and the d--l,
+ And a' the rest o' his pack.
+
+
+[60] These verses are printed from a MS. in possession of one of Lady
+Nairn's friends, and are, the Editor believes, for the first time
+published.
+
+
+
+
+JEANIE DEANS.[61]
+
+
+ St Leonard's hill was lightsome land,
+ Where gowan'd grass was growin',
+ For man and beast were food and rest,
+ And milk and honey flowin'.
+ A father's blessing follow'd close,
+ Where'er her foot was treading,
+ And Jeanie's humble, hamely joys
+ On every side were spreading wide,
+ On every side were spreading.
+
+ The mossy turf on Arthur's Seat,
+ St Anthon's well aye springin';
+ The lammies playing at her feet,
+ The birdies round her singin'.
+ The solemn haunts o' Holyrood,
+ Wi' bats and hoolits eerie,
+ The tow'ring crags o' Salisbury,
+ The lowly wells o' Weary, O[62]
+ The lowly wells o' Weary.
+
+ But evil days and evil men,
+ Came ower their sunny dwellin',
+ Like thunder-storms on sunny skies,
+ Or wastefu' waters swellin'.
+ What aince was sweet is bitter now,
+ The sun of joy is setting;
+ In eyes that wont to glame wi' glee,
+ The briny tear is wetting fast,
+ The briny tear is wetting.
+
+ Her inmost thoughts to Heaven is sent,
+ In faithful supplication;
+ Her earthly stay 's Macallummore,
+ The guardian o' the nation.
+ A hero's heart--a sister's love--
+ A martyr's truth unbending;
+ They 're a' in Jeanie's tartan plaid--
+ And she is gane, her leefu' lane,
+ To Lunnon toun she 's wending!
+
+
+[61] The romantic scenery depicted in this song is in the immediate
+vicinity of the Queen's Drive, Edinburgh.
+
+[62] The wells of Weary are situated near the Windyknowe, beneath
+Salisbury Crags.
+
+
+
+
+THE HEIRESS.[63]
+
+GAELIC AIR--_"Mo Leannan Falnich."_
+
+
+ I 'll no be had for naething,
+ I 'll no be had for naething,
+ I tell ye, lads, that 's ae thing,
+ So ye needna follow me.
+ Oh, the change is most surprising,
+ Last year I was plain Betty Brown,
+ Now to me they 're a' aspiring,--
+ The fair Elizabeth I am grown!
+
+ What siller does is most amazing,
+ Nane o' them e'er look'd at me,
+ Now my charms they a' are praising,
+ For my sake they 're like to dee.
+ The Laird, the Shirra, and the Doctor,
+ Wi' twa three Lords o' high degree;
+ Wi' heaps o' Writers I could mention--
+ Oh, surely this is no me!
+ But I 'll no, &c.
+
+ The yett is now for ever ringing,
+ Showers o' valentines aye bringing,
+ Fill'd wi' Cupids, flames, and darts,
+ Fae auld and young, wi' broken hearts.
+ The siller, O the weary siller!
+ Aft in toil and trouble sought,
+ But better far it should be sae,
+ Than that true hearts should e'er be bought.
+ Sae I 'll no, &c.
+
+ But there is ane, when I had naething,
+ A' his heart he gi'ed to me;
+ And sair he toil'd for a wee thing,
+ To bring me when he cam frae sea.
+ If ever I should marry ony,
+ He will be the lad for me;
+ For he was baith gude and bonny,
+ And he thought the same o' me.
+ Sae I 'll no, &c.
+
+
+[63] This song is printed from an improved version of the original, by a
+literary friend of the author.
+
+
+
+
+THE MITHERLESS LAMMIE.
+
+
+ The mitherless lammie ne'er miss'd its ain mammie,
+ We tentit it kindly by night and by day,
+ The bairnies made game o't, it had a blithe hame o't,
+ Its food was the gowan--its music was "_mai_."
+
+ Without tie or fetter, it couldna been better,
+ But it would gae witless the world to see;
+ The foe that it fear'd not, it saw not, it heard not,
+ Was watching its wand'ring frae Bonnington Lea.
+
+ Oh, what then befell it, 't were waefu' to tell it,
+ Tod Lowrie kens best, wi' his lang head sae sly;
+ He met the pet lammie, that wanted its mammie,
+ And left its kind hame the wide world to try.
+
+ We miss'd it at day-dawn, we miss'd it at night-fa'in',
+ Its wee shed is tenantless under the tree,
+ Ae dusk i' the gloamin' it wad gae a roamin';
+ 'T will frolic nae mair upon Bonnington Lea.
+
+
+
+
+THE ATTAINTED SCOTTISH NOBLES.[64]
+
+
+ Oh, some will tune their mournfu' strains,
+ To tell o' hame-made sorrow,
+ And if they cheat you o' your tears,
+ They 'll dry upon the morrow.
+ Oh, some will sing their airy dreams,
+ In verity they're sportin',
+ My sang 's o' nae sic thieveless themes,
+ But wakin' true misfortune.
+
+ Ye Scottish nobles, ane and a',
+ For loyalty attainted,
+ A nameless bardie 's wae to see
+ Your sorrows unlamented;
+ For if your fathers ne'er had fought
+ For heirs of ancient royalty,
+ Ye 're down the day that might hae been
+ At the top o' honour's tree a'.
+
+ For old hereditary right,
+ For conscience' sake they stoutly stood;
+ And for the crown their valiant sons
+ Themselves have shed their injured blood;
+ And if their fathers ne'er had fought
+ For heirs of ancient royalty,
+ They 're down the day that might hae been
+ At the top o' honour's tree a'.
+
+
+[64] This song having become known to George IV., it is said to have
+induced his Majesty to award the royal sanction for the restitution of
+the title of Baron to Lady Nairn's husband.--(See Memoir.)
+
+
+
+
+TRUE LOVE IS WATERED AYE WI' TEARS.[65]
+
+
+ True love is water'd aye wi' tears,
+ It grows 'neath stormy skies,
+ It 's fenced around wi' hopes and fears
+ An' fann'd wi' heartfelt sighs.
+ Wi' chains o' gowd it will no be bound,
+ Oh! wha the heart can buy?
+ The titled glare, the warldling's care,
+ Even absence 'twill defy,
+ Even absence 'twill defy.
+
+ And time, that kills a' ither things,
+ His withering touch 'twill brave,
+ 'Twill live in joy, 'twill live in grief,
+ 'Twill live beyond the grave!
+ 'Twill live, 'twill live, though buried deep,
+ In true heart's memorie--
+ Oh! we forgot that ane sae fair,
+ Sae bricht, sae young, could dee,
+ Sae young could dee.
+
+ Unfeeling hands may touch the chord
+ Where buried griefs do lie--
+ How many silent agonies
+ May that rude touch untie!
+ But, oh! I love that plaintive lay--
+ That dear auld melodie!
+ For, oh, 'tis sweet!--yet I maun greet,
+ For it was sung by thee,
+ Sung by thee!
+
+ They may forget wha lichtly love,
+ Or feel but beauty's chain;
+ But they wha loved a heavenly mind
+ Can never love again!
+ A' my dreams o' warld's guid
+ Aye were turn'd wi' thee,
+ But I leant on a broken reed
+ Which soon was ta'en frae me,
+ Ta'en frae me.
+
+ 'Tis weel, 'tis weel, we dinna ken
+ What we may live to see,
+ 'Twas Mercy's hand that hung the veil
+ O'er sad futurity!
+ Oh, ye whose hearts are scathed and riven,
+ Wha feel the warld is vain,
+ Oh, fix your broken earthly ties
+ Where they ne'er will break again,
+ Break again!
+
+
+[65] Here first printed.
+
+
+
+
+AH, LITTLE DID MY MOTHER THINK.[66]
+
+
+ Ah, little did my mother think
+ When to me she sung,
+ What a heartbreak I would be,
+ Her young and dautit son.
+
+ And oh! how fond she was o' me
+ In plaid and bonnet braw,
+ When I bade farewell to the north countrie,
+ And marching gaed awa!
+
+ Ah! little did my mother think
+ A banish'd man I 'd be,
+ Sent frae a' my kith and kin,
+ Them never mair to see.
+
+ Oh! father, 'twas the sugar'd drap
+ Aft ye did gi'e to me,
+ That has brought a' this misery
+ Baith to you and me.
+
+
+[66] These verses are here first printed.
+
+
+
+
+WOULD YOU BE YOUNG AGAIN?[67]
+
+AIR--_"Ailen Aroon."_
+
+
+ Would you be young again?
+ So would not I--
+ One tear to memory given,
+ Onward I 'd hie.
+ Life's dark flood forded o'er,
+ All but at rest on shore,
+ Say, would you plunge once more,
+ With home so nigh?
+
+ If you might, would you now
+ Retrace your way?
+ Wander through stormy wilds,
+ Faint and astray?
+ Night's gloomy watches fled,
+ Morning all beaming red,
+ Hope's smiles around us shed,
+ Heavenward--away.
+
+ Where, then, are those dear ones,
+ Our joy and delight?
+ Dear and more dear though now
+ Hidden from sight.
+ Where they rejoice to be,
+ There is the land for me;
+ Fly, time, fly speedily;
+ Come, life and light.
+
+
+[67] This song was composed in 1842, when the author had attained her
+seventy-sixth year. The four lays following, breathing the same
+devotional spirit, appear to have been written about the same period of
+the author's life. The present song is printed from the original MS.
+
+
+
+
+REST IS NOT HERE.
+
+
+ What 's this vain world to me?
+ Rest is not here;
+ False are the smiles I see,
+ The mirth I hear.
+ Where is youth's joyful glee?
+ Where all once dear to me?
+ Gone, as the shadows flee--
+ Rest is not here.
+
+ Why did the morning shine
+ Blythely and fair?
+ Why did those tints so fine
+ Vanish in air?
+ Does not the vision say,
+ Faint, lingering heart, away,
+ Why in this desert stay--
+ Dark land of care!
+
+ Where souls angelic soar,
+ Thither repair;
+ Let this vain world no more
+ Lull and ensnare.
+ That heaven I love so well
+ Still in my heart shall dwell;
+ All things around me tell
+ Rest is found there.
+
+
+
+
+HERE'S TO THEM THAT ARE GANE.
+
+AIR--_"Here 's a health to ane I lo'e weel."_
+
+
+ Here 's to them, to them that are gane;
+ Here 's to them, to them that are gane;
+ Here 's to them that were here, the faithful and dear,
+ That will never be here again--no, never.
+ But where are they now that are gane?
+ Oh, where are the faithful and true?
+ They 're gane to the light that fears not the night,
+ An' their day of rejoicing shall end--no, never.
+
+ Here 's to them, to them that were here;
+ Here 's to them, to them that were here;
+ Here 's a tear and a sigh to the bliss that 's gane by,
+ But 'twas ne'er like what 's coming, to last--for ever.
+ Oh, bright was their morning sun!
+ Oh, bright was their morning sun!
+ Yet, lang ere the gloaming, in clouds it gaed down;
+ But the storm and the cloud are now past--for ever.
+
+ Fareweel, fareweel! parting silence is sad;
+ Oh, how sad the last parting tear!
+ But that silence shall break, where no tear on the cheek
+ Can bedim the bright vision again--no, never.
+ Then, speed to the wings of old Time,
+ That waft us where pilgrims would be;
+ To the regions of rest, to the shores of the blest,
+ Where the full tide of glory shall flow--for ever.
+
+
+
+
+FAREWEEL, O FAREWEEL!
+
+GAELIC AIR.
+
+
+ Fareweel, O fareweel!
+ My heart it is sair;
+ Fareweel, O fareweel!
+ I 'll see him nae mair.
+
+ Lang, lang was he mine,
+ Lang, lang--but nae mair;
+ I mauna repine,
+ But my heart it is sair.
+
+ His staff 's at the wa',
+ Toom, toom is his chair!
+ His bannet, an' a'!
+ An' I maun be here!
+
+ But oh! he 's at rest,
+ Why sud I complain?
+ Gin my soul be blest,
+ I 'll meet him again.
+
+ Oh, to meet him again,
+ Where hearts ne'er were sair!
+ Oh, to meet him again,
+ To part never mair!
+
+
+
+
+THE DEAD WHO HAVE DIED IN THE LORD.[68]
+
+
+ Go, call for the mourners, and raise the lament,
+ Let the tresses be torn, and the garments be rent;
+ But weep not for him who is gone to his rest,
+ Nor mourn for the ransom'd, nor wail for the blest.
+ The sun is not set, but is risen on high,
+ Nor long in corruption his body shall lie--
+ Then let not the tide of thy griefs overflow,
+ Nor the music of heaven be discord below;
+ Rather loud be the song, and triumphant the chord,
+ Let us joy for the dead who have died in the Lord.
+
+ Go, call for the mourners, and raise the lament,
+ Let the tresses be torn, and the garments be rent;
+ But give to the living thy passion of tears
+ Who walk in this valley of sadness and fears,
+ Who are press'd by the combat, in darkness are lost,
+ By the tempest are beat, on the billows are toss'd.
+ Oh, weep not for those who shall sorrow no more,
+ Whose warfare is ended, whose combat is o'er;
+ Let the song be exalted, be triumphant the chord,
+ And rejoice for the dead who have died in the Lord.
+
+
+[68] These stanzas are printed for the first time. The MS. is not in
+Lady Nairn's handwriting, but there is every reason to assign to her the
+authorship.
+
+
+
+
+JAMES NICOL.
+
+
+James Nicol, the son of Michael Nicol and Marion Hope, was born at
+Innerleithen, in the county of Peebles, on the 28th of September 1769.
+Having acquired the elements of classical knowledge under Mr Tate, the
+parochial schoolmaster, he was sent to the University of Edinburgh,
+where he pursued study with unflinching assiduity and success. On
+completing his academical studies, he was licensed as a probationer by
+the Presbytery of Peebles. His first professional employment was as an
+assistant to the minister of Traquair, a parish bordering on that of
+Innerleithen; and on the death of the incumbent, Mr Nicol succeeded to
+the living. On the 4th of November 1802, he was ordained to the
+ministerial office; and on the 25th of the same month and year, he
+espoused Agnes Walker, a native of Glasgow, and the sister of his
+immediate predecessor, who had for a considerable period possessed a
+warm place in his affections, and been the heroine of his poetical
+reveries. He had for some time been in the habit of communicating verses
+to the _Edinburgh Magazine_; and he afterwards published a collection of
+"Poems, chiefly in the Scottish Dialect," Edinburgh, 1805, 2 vols. 12mo.
+This publication, which was well received, contains some lyrical
+effusions that entitle the author to a respectable rank among the modern
+cultivators of national poetry; yet it is to be regretted that a deep
+admiration of Burns has led him into an imitation, somewhat servile, of
+that immortal bard.
+
+At Traquair Mr Nicol continued to devote himself to mental improvement.
+He read extensively; and writing upon the subject of his studies was his
+daily habit. He was never robust, being affected with a chronic disorder
+of the stomach; and when sickness prevented him, as occasionally
+happened, from writing in a sitting posture, he would for hours together
+have devoted himself to composition in a standing position. Of his prose
+writings, which were numerous, the greater number still remain in MS.,
+in the possession of his elder son. During his lifetime, he contributed
+a number of articles to the _Edinburgh Encyclopdia_, among which are
+"Baptism," "Baptistry," "Baptists," "Bithynia," and "Cranmer." His
+posthumous work, "An Essay on the Nature and Design of Scripture
+Sacrifices," was published in an octavo volume in the year 1823.
+
+Mr Nicol was much respected for his sound discernment in matters of
+business, as well as for his benevolent disposition. Every dispute in
+the vicinity was submitted to his adjudication, and his counsel checked
+all differences in the district. He was regularly consulted as a
+physician, for he had studied medicine at the University. From his own
+medicine chest he dispensed gratuitously to the indigent sick; and
+without fee he vaccinated all the children of the neighbourhood who were
+brought to him. After a short illness, he died on the 5th of November
+1819. Of a family of three sons and three daughters, the eldest son
+predeceased him; two sons and two daughters still survive. The elder
+son, who bears his father's Christian name, is Professor of Civil and
+Natural History in Marischal College, Aberdeen, and is well known as a
+geologist. Mrs Nicol survived her husband till the 19th of March 1845.
+
+
+
+
+BLAW SAFTLY, YE BREEZES.
+
+
+ Blaw saftly, ye breezes, ye streams, smoothly murmur,
+ Ye sweet-scented blossoms, deck every green tree;
+ 'Mong your wild scatter'd flow'rets aft wanders my charmer,
+ The sweet lovely lass wi' the black rollin' e'e.
+ For pensive I ponder, and languishin' wander,
+ Far frae the sweet rosebud on Quair's windin' stream!
+
+ Why, Heaven, wring my heart wi' the hard heart o' anguish?
+ Why torture my bosom 'tween hope and despair?
+ When absent frae Nancy, I ever maun languish!--
+ That dear angel smile, shall it charm me nae mair?
+ Since here life 's a desert, an' pleasure 's a dream,
+ Bear me swift to those banks which are ever my theme,
+ Where, mild as the mornin' at simmer's returnin',
+ Blooms the sweet lovely rosebud on Quair's windin' stream.
+
+
+
+
+BY YON HOARSE MURMURIN' STREAM.
+
+
+ By yon hoarse murmurin' stream, 'neath the moon's chilly beam,
+ Sadly musin' I wander, an' the tear fills my e'e;
+ Recollection, pensive power, brings back the mournfu' hour,
+ When the laddie gaed awa' that is dear, dear to me.
+
+ The tender words he said, and the faithfu' vows he made,
+ When we parted, to my bosom a mournfu' pleasure gie;
+ An' I lo'e to pass the day where we fondly used to stray,
+ An' repeat the laddie's name that is dear, dear to me.
+
+ Though the flow'rets gem the vales, an' scent the whisperin' gales,
+ An' the birds fill wi' music the sweetly-bloomin' tree;
+ Though nature bid rejoice, yet sorrow tunes my voice,
+ For the laddie 's far awa' that is dear, dear to me!
+
+ When the gloamin' brings alang the time o' mirth an' sang,
+ An' the dance kindles joy in ilka youthfu' e'e,
+ My neebours aften speir, why fa's the hidden tear?
+ But they kenna he's awa' that is dear, dear to me.
+
+ Oh, for the happy hour, when I shall hae the power,
+ To the darlin' o' my soul, on wings o' love, to flee!
+ Or that the day wad come, when fortune shall bring home,
+ The laddie to my arms that is dear, dear to me.
+
+ But if--for much I fear--that day will ne'er appear,
+ Frae me conceal in darkness the cruel stern decree;
+ For life wad a' be vain, were I ne'er to meet again,
+ Wi' the laddie far awa' that is dear, dear to me.
+
+
+
+
+HALUCKIT MEG.
+
+
+ Meg, muckin' at Geordie's byre,
+ Wrought as gin her judgment was wrang;
+ Ilk daud o' the scartle strake fire,
+ While loud as a lavrock she sang.
+ Her Geordie had promised to marry,
+ An' Meg, a sworn fae to despair,
+ Not dreamin' the job could miscarry,
+ Already seem'd mistress an' mair.
+
+ "My neebours," she sang, "aften jeer me,
+ An' ca' me daft haluckit Meg,
+ An' say they expect soon to hear me,
+ I' the kirk, for my fun, get a fleg.
+ An' now, 'bout my marriage they 'll clatter,
+ An' Geordie, puir fallow, they ca'
+ An auld doited hav'rel,--nae matter,
+ He 'll keep me aye brankin an' braw.
+
+ "I grant ye, his face is kenspeckle,
+ That the white o' his e'e is turn'd out,
+ That his black beard is rough as a heckle,
+ That his mou' to his lug 's rax'd about;
+ But they needna let on that he 's crazie,
+ His pikestaff will ne'er let him fa';
+ Nor that his hair 's white as a daisy,
+ For fient a hair has he ava'.
+
+ "But a weel-plenish'd mailin has Geordie,
+ An' routh o' gude gowd in his kist,
+ An' if siller comes at my wordie,
+ His beauty I never will miss 't.
+ Daft gowks, wha catch fire like tinder,
+ Think love-raptures ever will burn?
+ But wi' poortith, hearts het as a cinder,
+ Will cauld as an iceshugle turn.
+
+ "There 'll just be ae bar to my pleasures,
+ A bar that 's aft fill'd me wi' fear,
+ He 's sic a hard near-be-gawn miser,
+ He likes his saul less than his gear.
+ But though I now flatter his failin',
+ An' swear nought wi' gowd can compare,
+ Gude sooth! it shall soon get a scailin',
+ His bags sall be mouldie nae mair!
+
+ "I dreamt that I rode in a chariot,
+ A flunkie ahint me in green;
+ While Geordie cried out he was harriet,
+ An' the saut tear was blindin' his een.
+ But though 'gainst my spendin' he swear aye,
+ I'll hae frae him what ser's my turn;
+ Let him slip awa' whan he grows wearie;
+ Shame fa' me, gin lang I wad mourn!"
+
+ But Geordie, while Meg was haranguin',
+ Was cloutin' his breeks i' the bauks;
+ An' whan a' his failin's she brang in,
+ His strang hazel pikestaff he taks,
+ Designin' to rax her a lounder,
+ He chanced on the lather to shift,
+ An' down frae the bauks, flat 's a flounder,
+ Flew like a shot starn frae the lift!
+
+
+
+
+MY DEAR LITTLE LASSIE.
+
+
+ My dear little lassie, why, what 's a' the matter?
+ My heart it gangs pittypat--winna lie still;
+ I 've waited, and waited, an' a' to grow better,
+ Yet, lassie, believe me, I 'm aye growin' ill!
+ My head 's turn'd quite dizzy, an' aft, when I 'm speakin',
+ I sigh, an' am breathless, and fearfu' to speak;
+ I gaze aye for something I fain would be seekin',
+ Yet, lassie, I kenna weel what I would seek.
+
+ Thy praise, bonnie lassie, I ever could hear of,
+ And yet, when to ruse ye the neebour lads try--
+ Though it 's a' true they tell ye--yet never sae far off
+ I could see 'em ilk ane, an' I canna tell why.
+ When we tedded the hayfield, I raked ilka rig o't,
+ And never grew weary the lang simmer day;
+ The rucks that ye wrought at were easiest biggit,
+ And I fand sweeter scented around ye the hay.
+
+ In har'st, whan the kirn-supper joys mak us cheerie,
+ 'Mang the lave o' the lasses I preed yer sweet mou';
+ Dear save us! how queer I felt whan I cam' near ye--
+ My breast thrill'd in rapture, I couldna tell how.
+ When we dance at the gloamin', it 's you I aye pitch on;
+ And gin ye gang by me, how dowie I be!
+ There 's something, dear lassie, about ye bewitching,
+ That tells me my happiness centres in thee.
+
+
+
+
+JAMES MONTGOMERY.
+
+
+James Montgomery, the spiritual character of whose writings has gained
+him the honourable designation of the Christian Poet, was born at
+Irvine, in the county of Ayr, on the 4th of November 1771. His father,
+John Montgomery, was a missionary of the Moravian Brethren, and in this
+capacity came to Irvine from Ireland, only a few days before the birth
+of James, his eldest son. In his fourth year he returned to Ireland with
+his parents, and received the rudiments of his education from the
+village schoolmaster of Grace Hill, a settlement of the Moravian
+Brethren in the county of Antrim. In October 1777, in his seventh year,
+he was placed by his father in the seminary of the Moravian settlement
+of Fulneck, near Leeds; and on the departure of his parents to the West
+Indies, in 1783, he was committed to the care of the Brethren, with the
+view of his being trained for their Church. He was not destined to see
+his parents again. His mother died at Barbadoes, in November 1790, and
+his father after an interval of eight months.
+
+In consequence of his indolent habits, which were incorrigible, young
+Montgomery was removed from the seminary at Fulneck, and placed in the
+shop of a baker at Mirfield, in the vicinity. He was then in his
+sixteenth year; and having already afforded evidence of a refined
+taste, both in poetry and music, though careless of the ordinary routine
+of scholastic instruction, his new occupation was altogether uncongenial
+to his feelings. He, however, remained about eighteen months in the
+baker's service, but at length made a hasty escape from Mirfield, with
+only three shillings and sixpence in his pocket, and seemingly without
+any scheme except that of relieving himself from an irksome employment.
+But an accidental circumstance speedily enabled him to obtain an
+engagement with a shopkeeper in Wath, now a station on the railway
+between London and Leeds; and in procuring this employment, he was
+indebted to the recommendation of his former master, whose service he
+had unceremoniously quitted. But this new situation had few advantages
+over the old, and he relinquished it in about a year to try his fortune
+in the metropolis. He had previously sent a manuscript volume of poetry
+to Harrison, the bookseller of Paternoster Row, who, while declining to
+publish it, commended the author's talents, and so far promoted his
+views as now to receive him into his establishment. But Montgomery's
+aspirations had no reference to serving behind a counter; he only
+accepted a place in the bookseller's establishment that he might have an
+opportunity of leisurely feeling his way as an author. His literary
+efforts, however, still proved fruitless. He composed essays and tales,
+and wrote a romance in the manner of Fielding, but none of his
+productions could find a publisher. Mortified by his failures, he
+quitted London in eight months, and returned to the shop of his former
+employer at Wath. After the interval of another year, he proceeded to
+Sheffield, to occupy a situation under Mr Joseph Gales, a bookseller,
+and the proprietor of the _Register_ newspaper.
+
+Montgomery was now in his twenty-first year, and fortune at length
+began, though with many lowering intervals, to smile upon his youthful
+aspirations. Though he occupied a subordinate post in Mr Gales'
+establishment, his literary services were accepted for the _Register_,
+in which he published many of his earlier compositions, both in prose
+and verse. This journal had advocated sentiments of an ultra-liberal
+order, and commanding a wide circulation and a powerful influence among
+the operatives in Sheffield, had been narrowly inspected by the
+authorities. At length the proprietor fell into the snare of
+sympathising in the transactions of the French revolutionists; he was
+prosecuted for sedition, and deemed himself only safe from compulsory
+exile by a voluntary exit to America. This event took place about two
+years after Montgomery's first connexion with Sheffield, and he had now
+reverted to his former condition of abject dependence unless for a
+fortunate occurrence. This was no less than his being appointed
+joint-proprietor and editor of the newspaper by a wealthy individual,
+who, noticing the abilities of the young shopman, purchased the
+copyright with the view of placing the management entirely in his hands.
+
+The first number of the newspaper under the poet's care, the name being
+changed to that of _The Sheffield Iris_, appeared in July 1794; and
+though the principles of the journal were moderate and conciliatory in
+comparison with the democratic sentiments espoused by the former
+publisher, the jealous eye of the authorities rested on its new
+conductor. He did not escape their vigilance; for the simple offence of
+printing for a ballad-vender some verses of a song celebrating the fall
+of the Bastile, he was libelled as "a wicked, malicious, seditious, and
+evil-disposed person;" and being tried before the Doncaster Quarter
+Sessions, in January 1795, was sentenced to three months' imprisonment
+in the Castle of York. He was condemned to a second imprisonment of six
+months in the autumn of the same year, for inserting in his paper an
+account of a riot in the place, in which he was considered to have cast
+aspersions on a colonel of volunteers. The calm mind of the poet did not
+sink under these persecutions, and some of his best lyrics were composed
+during the period of his latter confinement. During his first detention
+he wrote a series of interesting essays for his newspaper. His "Prison
+Amusements," a series of beautiful pieces, appeared in 1797. In 1805, he
+published his poem, "The Ocean;" in 1806, "The Wanderer in Switzerland;"
+in 1808, "The West Indies;" and in 1812, "The World before the Flood."
+In 1819 he published "Greenland, a Poem, in Five Cantos;" and in 1825
+appeared "The Pelican Island, and other Poems." Of all those
+productions, "The Wanderer in Switzerland" attained the widest
+circulation; and, notwithstanding an unfavourable and injudicious
+criticism in the _Edinburgh Review_, at once procured an honourable
+place for the author among his contemporaries. He became sole proprietor
+of the _Iris_ in one year after his being connected with it, and he
+continued to conduct this paper till September 1825, when he retired
+from public duty. He subsequently contributed articles for different
+periodicals; but he chiefly devoted himself to the moral and religious
+improvement of his fellow-townsmen. A pension of 150 on the civil list
+was conferred upon him as an acknowledgment of his services in behalf of
+literature and of philanthropy; a well-merited public boon which for
+many years he was spared to enjoy. He died at his residence, The Mount,
+Sheffield, on the 30th of April 1854, in the eighty-second year of his
+age. He bequeathed handsome legacies to various public charities. His
+Poetical Works, in a collected form, were published in 1850 by the
+Messrs Longman, in one octavo volume; and in 1853 he gave to the world
+his last work, being "Original Hymns, for Public, Private, and Social
+Devotion." Copious memoirs of his life are now in the course of
+publication.
+
+As a poet, Montgomery is conspicuous for the smoothness of his
+versification, and for the fervent piety pervading all his compositions.
+As a man, he was gentle and conciliatory, and was remarkable as a
+generous promoter of benevolent institutions. The general tendency of
+his poems was thus indicated by himself, in the course of an address
+which he made at a public dinner, given him at Sheffield, in November
+1825, immediately after the toast of his health being proposed by the
+chairman, Lord Viscount Milton, now Earl Fitzwilliam:--
+
+ "I sang of war--but it was the war of freedom, in which death was
+ preferred to chains. I sang the abolition of the slave trade, that
+ most glorious decree of the British Legislature at any period since
+ the Revolution, by the first Parliament in which you, my Lord, sat
+ as the representative of Yorkshire. Oh, how should I rejoice to
+ sing the abolition of slavery itself by some Parliament of which
+ your Lordship shall yet be a member! This greater act of righteous
+ legislation is surely not too remote to be expected even in our own
+ day. Renouncing the slave trade was only 'ceasing to do evil;'
+ extinguishing slavery will be 'learning to do well.' Again, I sang
+ of love--the love of country, the love of my own country; for,
+
+ 'Next to heaven above,
+ Land of my fathers! thee I love;
+ And, rail thy slanderers as they will,
+ With all thy faults I love thee still.'
+
+ I sang, likewise, the love of home--its charities, endearments and
+ relationships--all that makes 'Home sweet Home,' the recollection
+ of which, when the air of that name was just now played from yonder
+ gallery, warmed every heart throughout this room into quicker
+ pulsations. I sang the love which man ought to bear towards his
+ brother, of every kindred, and country, and clime upon earth. I
+ sang the love of virtue, which elevates man to his true standard
+ under heaven. I sang, too, the love of God, who _is_ love. Nor did
+ I sing in vain. I found readers and listeners, especially among the
+ young, the fair, and the devout; and as youth, beauty, and piety
+ will not soon cease out of the land, I may expect to be remembered
+ through another generation at least, if I leave anything behind me
+ worthy of remembrance. I may add that, from every part of the
+ British empire, from every quarter of the world where our language
+ is spoken--from America, the East and West Indies, from New
+ Holland, and the South Sea Islands themselves--I have received
+ testimonies of approbation from all ranks and degrees of readers,
+ hailing what I had done, and cheering me forward. I allude not to
+ criticisms and eulogiums from the press, but to voluntary
+ communications from unknown correspondents, coming to me like
+ voices out of darkness, and giving intimation of that which the ear
+ of a poet is always hearkening onward to catch--the voice of
+ posterity."
+
+
+
+
+"FRIENDSHIP, LOVE, AND TRUTH."
+
+
+ When "Friendship, Love, and Truth" abound
+ Among a band of brothers,
+ The cup of joy goes gaily round,
+ Each shares the bliss of others.
+ Sweet roses grace the thorny way
+ Along this vale of sorrow;
+ The flowers that shed their leaves to-day
+ Shall bloom again to-morrow.
+ How grand in age, how fair in youth,
+ Are holy "Friendship, Love, and Truth!"
+
+ On halcyon wings our moments pass,
+ Life's cruel cares beguiling;
+ Old Time lays down his scythe and glass,
+ In gay good-humour smiling:
+ With ermine beard and forelock gray,
+ His reverend part adorning,
+ He looks like Winter turn'd to May,
+ Night soften'd into Morning.
+ How grand in age, how fair in youth,
+ Are holy "Friendship, Love, and Truth!"
+
+ From these delightful fountains flow
+ Ambrosial rills of pleasure;
+ Can man desire, can Heaven bestow,
+ A more resplendent treasure?
+ Adorn'd with gems so richly bright,
+ Will form a constellation,
+ Where every star, with modest light,
+ Shall gild its proper station.
+ How grand in age, how fair in youth,
+ Are holy "Friendship, Love, and Truth!"
+
+
+
+
+THE SWISS COWHERD'S SONG IN A FOREIGN LAND.
+
+IMITATED FROM THE FRENCH.
+
+
+ Oh, when shall I visit the land of my birth--
+ The loveliest land on the face of the earth?
+ When shall I those scenes of affection explore,
+ Our forests, our fountains,
+ Our hamlets, our mountains,
+ With pride of our mountains, the maid I adore?
+ Oh, when shall I dance on the daisy-white mead,
+ In the shade of an elm, to the sound of a reed?
+
+ When shall I return to that lowly retreat,
+ Where all my fond objects of tenderness meet,--
+ The lambs and the heifers, that follow my call,
+ My father, my mother,
+ My sister, my brother,
+ And dear Isabella, the joy of them all?
+ Oh, when shall I visit the land of my birth?--
+ 'Tis the loveliest land on the face of the earth.
+
+
+
+
+GERMAN WAR-SONG.[69]
+
+
+ Heaven speed the righteous sword,
+ And freedom be the word;
+ Come, brethren, hand in hand,
+ Fight for your fatherland.
+
+ Germania from afar
+ Invokes her sons to war;
+ Awake! put forth your powers,
+ And victory must be ours.
+
+ On to the combat, on!
+ Go where your sires have gone;
+ Their might unspent remains,
+ Their pulse is in our veins.
+
+ On to the battle, on!
+ Rest will be sweet anon;
+ The slave may yield, may fly,--
+ We conquer, or we die!
+
+ O Liberty! thy form
+ Shines through the battle-storm.
+ Away with fear, away!
+ Let justice win the day.
+
+
+[69] The simple and sublime original of these stanzas, with the fine air
+by Hmmel, became the national song of Germany, and was sung by the
+soldiers especially, during the latter campaigns of the war, when
+Buonaparte was twice dethroned, and Europe finally delivered from French
+predominance.
+
+
+
+
+VIA CRUCIS, VIA LUCIS.
+
+
+ Night turns to day:--
+ When sullen darkness lowers,
+ And heaven and earth are hid from sight,
+ Cheer up, cheer up;
+ Ere long the opening flowers,
+ With dewy eyes, shall shine in light.
+
+ Storms die in calms:--
+ When over land and ocean
+ Roll the loud chariots of the wind,
+ Cheer up, cheer up;
+ The voice of wild commotion,
+ Proclaims tranquillity behind.
+
+ Winter wakes spring:--
+ When icy blasts are blowing
+ O'er frozen lakes, through naked trees,
+ Cheer up, cheer up;
+ All beautiful and glowing,
+ May floats in fragrance on the breeze.
+
+ War ends in peace:--
+ Though dread artillery rattle,
+ And ghostly corses load the ground,
+ Cheer up, cheer up;
+ Where groan'd the field of battle,
+ The song, the dance, the feast, go round.
+
+ Toil brings repose:--
+ With noontide fervours beating,
+ When droop thy temples o'er thy breast,
+ Cheer up, cheer up;
+ Gray twilight, cool and fleeting,
+ Wafts on its wing the hour of rest.
+
+ Death springs to life:--
+ Though brief and sad thy story,
+ Thy years all spent in care and gloom,
+ Look up, look up;
+ Eternity and glory
+ Dawn through the portals of the tomb.
+
+
+
+
+VERSES TO A ROBIN RED-BREAST,
+WHICH VISITS THE WINDOW OF MY PRISON EVERY DAY.
+
+
+ Welcome, pretty little stranger!
+ Welcome to my lone retreat!
+ Here, secure from every danger,
+ Hop about, and chirp, and eat:
+ Robin! how I envy thee,
+ Happy child of Liberty!
+
+ Now, though tyrant Winter, howling,
+ Shakes the world with tempests round,
+ Heaven above with vapours scowling,
+ Frost imprisons all the ground:
+ Robin! what are these to thee?
+ Thou art bless'd with liberty.
+
+ Though yon fair majestic river[70]
+ Mourns in solid icy chains,
+ Though yon flocks and cattle shiver
+ On the desolated plains:
+ Robin! thou art gay and free,
+ Happy in thy liberty.
+
+ Hunger never shall disturb thee,
+ While my rates one crumb afford;
+ Colds nor cramps shall ne'er oppress thee;
+ Come and share my humble board:
+ Robin! come and live with me--
+ Live, yet still at liberty.
+
+ Soon shall Spring, in smiles and blushes,
+ Steal upon the blooming year;
+ Then, amid the enamour'd bushes,
+ Thy sweet song shall warble clear:
+ Then shall I, too, join with thee--
+ Swell the hymn of Liberty.
+
+ Should some rough, unfeeling dobbin,
+ In this iron-hearted age,
+ Seize thee on thy nest, my Robin,
+ And confine thee in a cage,
+ Then, poor prisoner! think of me--
+ Think, and sigh for liberty.
+
+
+[70] The Ouse.
+
+
+
+
+SLAVERY THAT WAS.
+
+
+ Ages, ages have departed,
+ Since the first dark vessel bore
+ Afric's children, broken-hearted,
+ To the Caribban shore;
+ She, like Rachel,
+ Weeping, for they were no more.
+
+ Millions, millions, have been slaughter'd,
+ In the fight and on the deep;
+ Millions, millions more have water'd,
+ With such tears as captives weep,
+ Fields of travail,
+ Where their bones till doomsday sleep.
+
+ Mercy, Mercy, vainly pleading,
+ Rent her garments, smote her breast,
+ Till a voice from Heaven proceeding,
+ Gladden'd all the gloomy west,--
+ "Come, ye weary,
+ Come, and I will give you rest!"
+
+ Tidings, tidings of salvation!
+ Britons rose with one accord,
+ Purged the plague-spot from our nation,
+ Negroes to their rights restored;
+ Slaves no longer,
+ _Freemen,--freemen_ of the _Lord_.
+
+
+
+
+ANDREW SCOTT.
+
+
+Andrew Scott, known as the author of the popular ballad of "Symon and
+Janet," has claims to a wider reputation. He was born of humble
+parentage, in the parish of Bowden, Roxburghshire, in the year 1757. He
+was early employed as a cowherd; and he has recorded, in a sketch of his
+own life prefixed to one of his volumes, that he began to compose verses
+on the hill-sides in his twelfth year. He ascribes this juvenile
+predilection to the perusal of Ramsay's "Gentle Shepherd," a pamphlet
+copy of which he had purchased with some spare halfpence. Towards the
+close of the American war, he joined the army as a recruit, and soon
+thereafter followed his regiment across the Atlantic. His rhyming
+propensities continued; and he occupied his leisure hours in composing
+verses, which he read for the amusement of his comrades. At the
+conclusion of the American campaigns, he returned with the army to
+Britain; and afterwards procuring his discharge, he made a settlement in
+his native parish. For the period of seventeen years, according to his
+own narrative, he abandoned the cultivation of poetry, assiduously
+applying himself to manual labour for the support of his family. An
+intelligent acquaintance, who had procured copies of some of his
+verses, now recommended him to attempt a publication--a counsel which
+induced him to print a small volume by subscription. This appeared in
+1805, and was reprinted, with several additions, in 1808. In 1811 he
+published "Poems, chiefly in the Scottish Dialect," Kelso, 18mo; another
+duodecimo volume of poems, at Jedburgh, in 1821; and his last work,
+entitled "Poems on Various Subjects," at Edinburgh, in 1826. This last
+volume was inscribed, with permission, to the Duchess of Roxburghe.
+
+The poet's social condition at Bowden was little favourable to the
+composition of poetry. Situated on the south side of the Eildon hills,
+the parish is entirely separated from the busy world, and the
+inhabitants were formerly proverbial for their rustic simplicity and
+ignorance. The encouragement desiderated at home, the poet, however,
+experienced elsewhere. He visited Melrose, at the easy distance of two
+miles, on the day of the weekly market, and there met with friends and
+patrons from different parts of the district. The late Duke of
+Roxburghe, Sir Walter Scott, Mr Baillie of Jerviswoode, Mr John Gibson
+Lockhart, and Mr G. P. R. James, the novelist, who sometimes resided in
+the neighbourhood, and other persons of rank or literary eminence,
+extended towards him countenance and assistance.
+
+Scott shared the indigent lot of poets. He remained in the condition of
+an agricultural labourer, and for many years held the office of beadle,
+or church-officer, of the parish. He died on the 22d of May 1839, in the
+eighty-second year of his age; and his remains were interred in the
+churchyard of Bowden, where his name is inscribed on a gravestone which
+he had erected to the memory of his wife. His eldest son holds the
+office of schoolmaster of that parish.
+
+The personal appearance of the bard appears to have been prepossessing:
+his countenance wore a highly intellectual aspect. Subsequent to the
+publication of the first volume of his poems, he was requested to sit
+for his portrait by the late Mr George Watson, the well-known
+portrait-painter; and who was so well satisfied with the excellence of
+his subject, that he exhibited the portrait for a lengthened period in
+his studio. It is now in the possession of the author's son at Bowden,
+and has been pronounced a masterpiece of art. A badly executed engraving
+from it is prefixed to Scott's last two volumes. In manner, the poet was
+modest and unassuming, and his utterance was slow and defective. The
+songs selected for this work may be regarded as the most favourable
+specimens of his muse.[71]
+
+
+[71] We have to acknowledge our obligations for several particulars of
+this sketch to Mr Robert Bower, Melrose, the author of a volume of
+"Ballads and Lyrics," published at Edinburgh in 1853.
+
+
+
+
+RURAL CONTENT; OR, THE MUIRLAND FARMER.
+
+AIR--_"The Rock and the Wee Pickle Tow."_
+
+
+ I 'm now a guid farmer, I 've acres o' land,
+ And my heart aye loups light when I 'm viewing o't,
+ And I hae servants at my command,
+ And twa dainty cowts for the plowin' o't.
+ My farm is a snug ane, lies high on a muir,
+ The muircocks and plivers aft skirl at my door,
+ And whan the sky low'rs I 'm aye sure o' a show'r,
+ To moisten my land for the plowin' o't.
+
+ Leeze me on the mailin that 's fa'n to my share,
+ It taks sax muckle bowes for the sawin' o't;
+ I 've sax braid acres for pasture, and mair,
+ And a dainty bit bog for the mawin' o't.
+ A spence and a kitchen my mansionhouse gies,
+ I 've a cantie wee wifie to daut whan I please,
+ Twa bairnies, twa callans, that skelp o'er the leas,
+ And they 'll soon can assist at the plowin' o't.
+
+ My biggin' stands sweet on this south slopin' hill,
+ And the sun shines sae bonnily beamin' on 't,
+ And past my door trots a clear prattlin' rill,
+ Frae the loch, whare the wild-ducks are swimmin' o't;
+ And on its green banks, on the gay simmer days,
+ My wifie trips barefoot, a-bleachin' her claes,
+ And on the dear creature wi' rapture I gaze,
+ While I whistle and sing at the plowin' o't.
+
+ To rank amang farmers I hae muckle pride,
+ But I mauna speak high when I 'm tellin' o't,
+ How brawlie I strut on my shelty to ride,
+ Wi' a sample to shew for the sellin' o't.
+ In blue worset boots that my auld mither span,
+ I 've aft been fu' vanty sin' I was a man,
+ But now they 're flung by, and I 've bought cordivan,
+ And my wifie ne'er grudged me a shillin' o't.
+
+ Sae now, whan to kirk or to market I gae--
+ My weelfare what need I be hiddin' o't?--
+ In braw leather boots shinin' black as the slae,
+ I dink me to try the ridin' o't.
+ Last towmond I sell'd off four bowes o' guid bear,
+ And thankfu' I was, for the victual was dear,
+ And I came hame wi' spurs on my heels shinin' clear,
+ I had sic good luck at the sellin' o't.
+
+ Now hairst time is o'er, and a fig for the laird,
+ My rent 's now secure for the toilin' o't;
+ My fields are a' bare, and my crap 's in the yard,
+ And I 'm nae mair in doubts o' the spoilin' o't.
+ Now welcome gude weather, or wind, or come weet,
+ Or bauld ragin' winter, wi' hail, snaw, or sleet,
+ Nae mair can he draigle my crap 'mang his feet,
+ Nor wraik his mischief, and be spoilin' o't.
+
+ And on the douf days, whan loud hurricanes blaw,
+ Fu' snug i' the spence I 'll be viewin' o't,
+ And jink the rude blast in my rush-theekit ha',
+ Whan fields are seal'd up from the plowin' o't.
+ My bonny wee wifie, the bairnies, and me,
+ The peat-stack, and turf-stack our Phoebus shall be,
+ Till day close the scoul o' its angry ee,
+ And we 'll rest in gude hopes o' the plowin' o't.
+
+ And whan the year smiles, and the lavrocks sing,
+ My man Jock and me shall be doin' o't;
+ He 'll thrash, and I 'll toil on the fields in the spring,
+ And turn up the soil at the plowin' o't.
+ And whan the wee flow'rets begin then to blaw,
+ The lavrock, the peasweep, and skirlin' pickmaw,
+ Shall hiss the bleak winter to Lapland awa,
+ Then we 'll ply the blythe hours at the sawin' o't.
+
+ And whan the birds sing on the sweet simmer morn,
+ My new crap I 'll keek at the growin' o't;
+ Whan hares niffer love 'mang the green-bairdit corn,
+ And dew draps the tender blade shewin' o't,
+ On my brick o' fallow my labours I 'll ply,
+ And view on their pasture my twa bonny kye,
+ Till hairst-time again circle round us wi' joy,
+ Wi' the fruits o' the sawin' and plowin' o't.
+
+ Nor need I to envy our braw gentle focks,
+ Wha fash na their thumbs wi' the sawing o't,
+ Nor e'er slip their fine silken hands in the pocks,
+ Nor foul their black shoon wi' the plowin' o't:
+ For, pleased wi' the little that fortune has lent,
+ The seasons row round us in rural content;
+ We 've aye milk and meal, and our laird gets his rent,
+ And I whistle and sing at the plowin' o't.
+
+
+
+
+SYMON AND JANET.
+
+AIR--_"Fy, let us a' to the Bridal."_
+
+
+ Surrounded wi' bent and wi' heather,
+ Whare muircocks and plivers are rife,
+ For mony lang towmond thegither,
+ There lived an auld man and his wife.
+
+ About the affairs o' the nation,
+ The twasome they seldom were mute;
+ Bonaparte, the French, and invasion,
+ Did saur in their wizens like soot.
+
+ In winter, when deep are the gutters,
+ And night's gloomy canopy spread,
+ Auld Symon sat luntin' his cuttie,
+ And lowsin' his buttons for bed.
+
+ Auld Janet, his wife, out a-gazin',
+ To lock in the door was her care;
+ She seein' our signals a-blazin',
+ Came runnin' in, rivin' her hair.
+
+ "O Symon, the Frenchmen are landit!
+ Gae look man, and slip on your shoon;
+ Our signals I see them extendit,
+ Like red risin' blaze o' the moon!"
+
+ "What plague, the French landit!" quo' Symon,
+ And clash gaed his pipe to the wa',
+ "Faith, then there's be loadin' and primin',"
+ Quo' he, "if they 're landit ava.
+
+ "Our youngest son 's in the militia,
+ Our eldest grandson 's volunteer:
+ O' the French to be fu' o' the flesh o',
+ I too in the ranks shall appear."
+
+ His waistcoat pouch fill'd he wi' pouther,
+ And bang'd down his rusty auld gun;
+ His bullets he put in the other,
+ That he for the purpose had run.
+
+ Then humpled he out in a hurry,
+ While Janet his courage bewails,
+ And cried out, "Dear Symon, be wary!"
+ And teughly she hang by his tails.
+
+ "Let be wi' your kindness," quo' Symon,
+ "Nor vex me wi' tears and your cares,
+ For now to be ruled by a woman,
+ Nae laurels shall crown my gray hairs."
+
+ Quo' Janet, "Oh, keep frae the riot!
+ Last night, man, I dreamt ye was dead;
+ This aught days I tentit a pyot
+ Sit chatt'rin' upo' the house-head.
+
+ "And yesterday, workin' my stockin',
+ And you wi' the sheep on the hill,
+ A muckle black corbie sat croakin';
+ I kend it foreboded some ill."
+
+ "Hout, cheer up, dear Janet, be hearty,
+ For ere the next sun may gae down,
+ Wha kens but I 'll shoot Bonaparte,
+ And end my auld days in renown?"
+
+ "Then hear me," quo' Janet, "I pray thee,
+ I 'll tend thee, love, living or dead,
+ And if thou should fa' I 'll die wi' thee,
+ Or tie up thy wounds if thou bleed."
+
+ Syne aff in a fury he stumpled,
+ Wi' bullets, and pouther, and gun;
+ At 's curpin auld Janet too humpled,
+ Awa to the next neighb'rin' town.
+
+ There footmen and yeomen paradin',
+ To scour aff in dirdum were seen,
+ Auld wives and young lasses a-sheddin'
+ The briny saut tears frae their een.
+
+ Then aff wi' his bannet gat Symon,
+ And to the commander he gaes;
+ Quo' he, "Sir, I mean to gae wi' ye, man,
+ And help ye to lounder our faes.
+
+ "I 'm auld, yet I 'm teugh as the wire,
+ Sae we 'll at the rogues have a dash,
+ And, fegs, if my gun winna fire,
+ I 'll turn her butt-end, and I 'll thrash."
+
+ "Well spoken, my hearty old hero,"
+ The captain did smiling reply,
+ But begg'd he wad stay till to-morrow,
+ Till daylight should glent in the sky.
+
+ Whatreck, a' the stour cam to naething;
+ Sae Symon, and Janet his dame,
+ Hale skart frae the wars, without skaithing,
+ Gaed bannin' the French again hame.
+
+
+
+
+COQUET WATER.
+
+AIR--_"Braw Lads of Gala Water."_
+
+
+ Whan winter winds forget to blaw,
+ An' vernal suns revive pale nature,
+ A shepherd lad by chance I saw,
+ Feeding his flocks by Coquet water.
+
+ Saft, saft he sung, in melting lays,
+ His Mary's charms an' matchless feature,
+ While echoes answer'd frae the braes,
+ That skirt the banks of Coquet water.
+
+ "Oh, were that bonnie lassie mine,"
+ Quoth he, "in love's saft wiles I'd daut her;
+ An' deem mysel' as happy syne,
+ As landit laird on Coquet water.
+
+ "Let wealthy rakes for pleasure roam,
+ In foreign lands their fortune fritter;
+ But love's pure joys be mine at home,
+ Wi' my dear lass on Coquet water.
+
+ "Gie fine focks wealth, yet what care I,
+ Gie me her smiles whom I lo'e better;
+ Blest wi' her love an' life's calm joy,
+ Tending my flocks by Coquet water.
+
+ "Flow fair an' clear, thou bonnie stream,
+ For on thy banks aft hae I met her;
+ Fair may the bonnie wild-flowers gleam,
+ That busk the banks of Coquet water."
+
+
+
+
+THE YOUNG MAID'S WISH FOR PEACE.
+
+AIR--_"Far frae Hame," &c._
+
+
+ Fain wad I, fain wad I hae the bloody wars to cease,
+ An' the nations restored again to unity an' peace;
+ Then mony a bonnie laddie, that 's now far owre the sea,
+ Wad return to his lassie, an' his ain countrie.
+
+ My lad was call'd awa for to cross the stormy main,
+ An' to face the battle's bray in the cause of injured Spain;
+ But in my love's departure hard fate has injured me,
+ That has reft him frae my arms, an' his ain countrie.
+
+ When he bade me adieu, oh! my heart was like to break,
+ An' the parting tear dropp'd down for my dear laddie's sake;
+ Kind Heavens protect my Willie, wherever he be,
+ An' restore him to my arms, an' his ain countrie.
+
+ Yes, may the fates defend him upon that hostile shore,
+ Amid the rage of battle, where thund'ring cannons roar;
+ In the sad hour of danger, when deadly bullets flee,
+ Far frae the peacefu' plains of his ain countrie.
+
+ Wae 's me, that vice had proven the source of blood an' war,
+ An' sawn amang the nations the seeds of feud an' jar:
+ But it was cruel Cain, an' his grim posterity,
+ First began the bloody wark in their ain countrie.
+
+ An' oh! what widows weep, an' helpless orphans cry!
+ On a far foreign shore now, the dear, dear ashes lie,
+ Whose life-blood stain'd the gowans of some far foreign lea,
+ Far frae their kith an' kin, an' their ain countrie.
+
+ Hail the day, speed the day, then, when a' the wars are done!
+ An' may ilk British laddie return wi' laurels won;
+ On my dear Willie's brows may they flourish bonnily,
+ An' be wi' the myrtle twined in his ain countrie.
+
+ But I hope the time is near, when sweet peace her olive wand
+ To lay the fiend of war shall soon stretch o'er every land,
+ When swords turn'd into ploughshares and pruning-hooks shall be,
+ An' the nations a' live happy in their ain countrie.
+
+
+
+
+THE FIDDLER'S WIDOW.
+
+
+ There was a musician wha play'd a good stick,
+ He had a sweet wife an' a fiddle,
+ An' in his profession he had right good luck
+ At bridals his elbow to diddle.
+
+ But ah! the poor fiddler soon chancd to die,
+ As a' men to dust must return;
+ An' the poor widow cried, wi' the tear in her e'e,
+ That as lang as she lived she wad mourn.
+
+ Alane by the hearth she disconsolate sat,
+ Lamenting the day that she saw,
+ An' aye as she look'd on the fiddle she grat,
+ That silent now hang on the wa'.
+
+ Fair shane the red rose on the young widow's cheek,
+ Sae newly weel washen wi' tears,
+ As in came a younker some comfort to speak,
+ Wha whisper'd fond love in her ears.
+
+ "Dear lassie," he cried, "I am smit wi' your charms,
+ Consent but to marry me now,
+ I 'm as good as ever laid hair upon thairms,
+ An' I 'll cheer baith the fiddle an' you."
+
+ The young widow blush'd, but sweet smiling she said,
+ "Dear sir, to dissemble I hate,
+ If we twa thegither are doom'd to be wed,
+ Folks needna contend against fate."
+
+ He took down the fiddle as dowie it hung,
+ An' put a' the thairms in tune,
+ The young widow dighted her cheeks an' she sung,
+ For her heart lap her sorrows aboon.
+
+ Now sound sleep the dead in his cauld bed o' clay,
+ For death still the dearest maun sever;
+ For now he 's forgot, an' his widow's fu' gay,
+ An' his fiddle 's as merry as ever.
+
+
+
+
+LAMENT FOR THE DEATH OF AN IRISH CHIEF.
+
+
+ He 's no more on the green hill, he has left the wide forest,
+ Whom, sad by the lone rill, thou, loved dame, deplorest:
+ We saw in his dim eye the beam of life quiver,
+ Its bright orb to light again no more for ever.
+
+ Loud twang'd thy bow, mighty youth, in the foray,
+ Dread gleam'd thy brand in the proud field of glory;
+ And when heroes sat round in the Psalter of Tara,
+ His counsel was sage as was fatal his arrow.
+
+ When in war's loud commotion the hostile Dane landed,
+ Or seen on the ocean with white sail expanded,
+ Like thee, swoll'n stream, down our steep vale that roarest,
+ Fierce was the chieftain that harass'd them sorest.
+
+ Proud stem of our ancient line, nipt while in budding,
+ Like sweet flowers' too early gem spring-fields bestudding,
+ Our noble pine 's fall'n, that waved on our mountain,--
+ Our mighty rock dash'd from the brink of our fountain.
+
+ Our lady is lonely, our halls are deserted--
+ The mighty is fallen, our hope is departed--
+ Loud wail for the fate from our clan that did sever,
+ Whom we shall behold again no more for ever.
+
+
+
+
+THE DEPARTURE OF SUMMER.
+
+
+ Adieu, lovely Summer! I see thee declining,
+ I sigh, for thy exit is near;
+ Thy once glowing beauties by Autumn are pining,
+ Who now presses hard on thy rear.
+
+ The late blowing flowers now thy pale cheek adorning,
+ Droop sick as they nod on the lea;
+ The groves, too, are silent, no minstrel of morning
+ Shrill warbles his song from the tree.
+
+ Aurora peeps silent, and sighs a lorn widow,
+ No warbler to lend her a lay,
+ No more the shrill lark quits the dew-spangled meadow,
+ As wont for to welcome the day.
+
+ Sage Autumn sits sad now on hill, dale, and valley,
+ Each landscape how pensive its mien!
+ They languish, they languish! I see them fade daily,
+ And losing their liv'ry of green.
+
+ O Virtue, come waft me on thy silken pinions,
+ To where purer streamlets still flow,
+ Where summer, unceasing, pervades thy dominions,
+ Nor stormy bleak wint'ry winds blow.
+
+
+
+
+SIR WALTER SCOTT, BART.
+
+
+Sir Walter Scott, the most chivalrous of Scottish poets, and the most
+illustrious of British novelists, was born in Edinburgh, on the 15th of
+August 1771. His father, Walter Scott, Writer to the Signet, was
+descended from a younger branch of the baronial house of the Scotts of
+Harden, of which Lord Polwarth is the present representative. On his
+mother's side his progenitors were likewise highly respectable: his
+maternal grandfather, Dr John Rutherford, was Professor of the Practice
+of Physic in the University of Edinburgh, and his mother's brother, Dr
+Daniel Rutherford, an eminent chemist, afterwards occupied the chair of
+Botany. His mother was a person of a vigorous and cultivated mind. Of a
+family of twelve children, born to his parents, six of whom survived
+infancy, Walter only evinced the possession of the uncommon attribute of
+genius. He was born a healthy child, but soon after became exposed to
+serious peril by being some time tended by a consumptive nurse. When
+scarcely two years old he was seized with an illness which deprived him
+of the proper use of his right limb, a loss which continued during his
+life. With the view of retrieving his strength, he was sent to reside
+with his paternal grandfather, Robert Scott, who rented the farm of
+Sandyknowe, in the vicinity of Smailholm Tower, in Roxburghshire.
+Shortly after his arrival at Sandyknowe, he narrowly escaped destruction
+through the frantic desperation of a maniac attendant; but he had
+afterwards to congratulate himself on being enabled to form an early
+acquaintance with rural scenes. No advantage accruing to his lameness,
+he was, in his fourth year, removed to Bath, where he remained twelve
+months, without experiencing benefit from the mineral waters. During the
+three following years he chiefly resided at Sandyknowe. In his eighth
+year he returned to Edinburgh, with his mind largely stored with border
+legends, chiefly derived from the recitations of his grandmother, a
+person of a romantic inclination and sprightly intelligence. At this
+period, Pope's translation of Homer, and the more amusing songs in
+Ramsay's "Evergreen," were his favourite studies; and he took delight in
+reading aloud, with suitable emphasis, the more striking passages, or
+verses, to his mother, who sought every incentive to stimulate his
+native propensity. In 1778 he was sent to the High School, where he
+possessed the advantage of instruction under Mr Luke Fraser, an able
+scholar, and Dr Adam, the distinguished rector. His progress in
+scholarship was not equal to his talents; he was already a devotee to
+romance, and experienced greater gratification in retiring with a friend
+to some quiet spot in the country, to relate or to listen to a
+fictitious tale, than in giving his principal attention to the
+prescribed tasks of the schoolroom. As he became older, the love of
+miscellaneous literature, especially the works of the great masters of
+fiction, amounted to a passion; and as his memory was singularly
+tenacious, he accumulated a great extent and variety of miscellaneous
+information.
+
+On the completion of his attendance at the High School, he was sent to
+reside with some relations at Kelso; and in this interesting locality
+his growing attachment to the national minstrelsy and legendary lore
+received a fresh impulse. On his return to Edinburgh he entered the
+University, in which he matriculated as a student of Latin and Greek, in
+October 1793. His progress was not more marked than it had been at the
+High School, insomuch that Mr Dalziel, the professor of Greek, was
+induced to give public expression as to his hopeless incapacity. The
+professor fortunately survived to make ample compensation for the
+rashness of his prediction.
+
+The juvenile inclinations of the future poet were entirely directed to a
+military life; but his continued lameness interposed an insuperable
+difficulty, and was a source of deep mortification. He was at length
+induced to adopt a profession suitable to his physical capabilities,
+entering into indentures with his father in his fourteenth year. To his
+confinement at the desk, sufficiently irksome to a youth of his
+aspirations, he was chiefly reconciled by the consideration that his
+fees as a clerk enabled him to purchase books.
+
+Rapid growth in a constitution which continued delicate till he had
+attained his fifteenth year, led to his bursting a blood-vessel in the
+second year of his apprenticeship. While precluded from active duty,
+being closely confined to bed, and not allowed to exert himself by
+speaking, he was still allowed to read; a privilege which accelerated
+his acquaintance with general literature. To complete his recovery, he
+was recommended exercise on horseback; and in obeying the instructions
+of his physician, he gratified his own peculiar tastes by making himself
+generally familiar with localities and scenes famous in Scottish story.
+On the restoration of his health, he at length became seriously engaged
+in the study of law for several continuous years, and, after the
+requisite examinations, was admitted as an advocate, on the 10th of July
+1792, when on the point of attaining his twenty-first year.
+
+In his twelfth year, Scott had composed some verses for his preceptor
+and early friend Dr Adam, which afforded promise of his future
+excellence. But he seems not to have extensively indulged, in early
+life, in the composition of poetry, while his juvenile productions in
+prose wore a stiff formality. On being called to the bar, he at first
+carefully refrained, according to his own statement, from claiming the
+honour of authorship, lest his brethren or the public should suppose
+that his habits were unsuitable to a due attention to the duties of his
+profession. He was relieved of dependence on professional employment by
+espousing, in December 1797, Miss Carpenter, a young French gentlewoman,
+possessed of a considerable annuity, whose acquaintance he had formed at
+Gilsland, a watering-place in Cumberland. In 1800 he was appointed
+Sheriff of Selkirkshire, with a salary of 300 a year. While he
+continued in his father's office he had made himself familiar with the
+French and Italian languages, and had read many of their more celebrated
+authors, especially the writings of Tasso and Ariosto. Some years after
+he came to the bar, he was induced to acquaint himself with the ballad
+poetry of Germany, then in vogue, through the translations of Mr Lewis,
+whose friendship he had recently acquired. In 1796 he made his first
+adventure as an author by publishing translations of "Lenor," and "The
+Wild Huntsman" of Brger. The attempt proved unsuccessful; but,
+undismayed, he again essayed his skill in translation by publishing, in
+1799, an English version of Gothe's "Goetz of Berlichingen." His
+success as an author was, however, destined to rest on original
+performances, illustrative of the chivalry of his own land.
+
+Towards the recovery and publication of the ancient ballads and songs of
+the Scottish borders, which had only been preserved by the recitations
+of the peasantry, Scott had early formed important intentions. The
+independence of his circumstances now enabled him to execute his
+long-cherished scheme. He made periodical excursions into Liddesdale, a
+wild pastoral district on the Scottish border, anciently peopled by the
+noted Elliots and Armstrongs, in quest of old ballads and traditions;
+and the fruits of his research, along with much curious information,
+partly communicated to him by intelligent correspondents, he gave to the
+world, in 1802, in two volumes octavo, under the title of "Minstrelsy of
+the Scottish Border." He added in the following year a third volume,
+consisting of imitations of ancient ballads, composed by himself and
+others. These volumes issued from the printing-press of his early friend
+and school-fellow, Mr James Ballantyne of Kelso, who had already begun
+to indicate that skill in typography for which he was afterwards so
+justly celebrated. In 1804 he published, from the Auchinleck Manuscript
+in the Advocates' Library, the ancient metrical tale of "Sir Tristrem;"
+and, in an elaborate introduction, he endeavoured to prove that it was
+the composition of Thomas of Ercildoune, better known as Thomas the
+Rhymer. He published in 1805 "The Lay of the Last Minstrel," an original
+ballad poem, which, speedily attaining a wide circulation, procured for
+him an extensive reputation, and the substantial reward of 600.
+
+The prosperity of the poet rose with his fame. In the year following
+that which produced the "Lay," he received his appointment as a
+principal clerk of the Court of Session, an office which afterwards
+brought him 1200 a-year. To literary occupation he now resolved to
+dedicate his intervals of leisure. In 1808 he produced "Marmion," his
+second great poem, which brought him 1000 from the publisher, and at
+once established his fame. During the same year he completed the heavy
+task of editing the works of Dryden, in eighteen volumes. In 1809 he
+edited the state papers and letters of Sir Ralph Sadler, and became a
+contributor to the _Edinburgh Annual Register_, conducted by Southey.
+"The Lady of the Lake," the most happily-conceived and popular of his
+poetical works, appeared in 1810; "Don Roderick," in 1811; "Rokeby," in
+1813; and "The Lord of the Isles," in 1814. "Harold the Dauntless," and
+"The Bridal of Triermain," appeared subsequently, without the author's
+name.
+
+As a poet, Scott had now attained a celebrity unrivalled among his
+contemporaries, and it was in the apprehension of compromising his
+reputation, that, in attempting a new species of composition, he was
+extremely anxious to conceal the name of the author. The novel of
+"Waverley," which appeared in 1814, did not, however, suffer from its
+being anonymous; for, although the sale was somewhat heavy at first, the
+work soon afterwards reached the extraordinary circulation of twelve
+thousand copies. Contrary to reasonable expectation, however, the author
+of "Waverley" did not avow himself, and, numerous as was the catalogue
+of prose fictions which, for more than twenty years, proceeded from his
+pen, he continued as desirous of retaining his secret as were his female
+contemporaries, Lady Nairn and Lady Anne Barnard, to cast a veil over
+their poetical character. The rapidity with which the "Great Unknown"
+produced works of fiction, was one of the marvels of the age; and many
+attempts were made to withdraw the curtain which concealed the
+mysterious author. Successive years produced at least one, and often
+two, novels of a class infinitely superior to the romances of the past
+age, all having reference to the manners and habits of the most
+interesting and chivalrous periods of Scottish or British history,
+which, in these works, were depicted with a power and vivacity
+unattained by the most graphic national historians. Subsequently to the
+publication of "Guy Mannering" and "The Antiquary," in 1815 and 1816,
+and as an expedient to sustain the public interest, Scott commenced a
+new series of novels, under the title of "Tales of my Landlord," these
+being professedly written by a different author; but this resort was
+abandoned as altogether unnecessary for the contemplated object. Each
+successive romance by the author of "Waverley" awakened renewed ardour
+and enthusiasm among the public, and commanded a circulation
+commensurate with the bounds in which the language was understood. Many
+of them were translated into the various European languages. In the year
+1814 he had published an edition of the works of Swift, in nineteen
+volumes octavo.
+
+For some years after his marriage, Scott had occupied a cottage in the
+romantic vicinity of Lasswade, near Edinburgh; but in 1804 he removed to
+Ashestiel, an old mansion, beautifully situated on the banks of the
+Tweed, seven miles above Selkirk, where, for several years, he continued
+to reside during the vacation of the Court. The ruling desire of his
+life was, that by the proceeds of his intellectual labour he might
+acquire an ample demesne, with a suitable mansion of his own, and thus
+in some measure realise in his own person, and in those of his
+representatives, somewhat of the territorial importance of those olden
+barons, whose wassails and whose feuds he had experienced delight in
+celebrating. To attain such distinction as a Scottish _laird_, or
+landholder, he was prepared to incur many sacrifices; nor was this
+desire exceeded by regard for literary reputation. It was unquestionably
+with a view towards the attainment of his darling object, that he taxed
+so severely those faculties with which nature had so liberally endowed
+him, and exhibited a prolificness of authorship, such as has rarely been
+evinced in the annals of literary history. In 1811 he purchased, on the
+south bank of the Tweed, near Melrose, the first portion of that estate
+which, under the name of Abbotsford, has become indelibly associated
+with his history. The soil was then a barren waste, but by extensive
+improvements the place speedily assumed the aspect of amenity and
+beauty. The mansion, a curious amalgamation, in questionable taste, of
+every species of architecture, was partly built in 1811, and gradually
+extended with the increasing emoluments of the owner. By successive
+purchases of adjacent lands, the Abbotsford property became likewise
+augmented, till the rental amounted to about 700 a-year--a return
+sufficiently limited for an expenditure of upwards of 50,000 on this
+favourite spot.
+
+At Abbotsford the poet maintained the character of a wealthy country
+gentleman. He was visited by distinguished persons from the sister
+kingdom, from the Continent, and from America, all of whom he
+entertained in a style of sumptuous elegance. Nor did his constant
+social intercourse with his visitors and friends interfere with the
+regular prosecution of his literary labours: he rose at six, and
+engaged in study and composition till eleven o'clock. During the period
+of his residence in the country, he devoted the remainder of the day to
+his favourite exercise on horseback, the superintendence of improvements
+on his property, and the entertainment of his guests. In March 1820,
+George IV., to whom he was personally known, and who was a warm admirer
+of his genius, granted to him the honour of a baronetcy, being the first
+which was conferred by his Majesty after his accession. Prior to this
+period, besides the works already enumerated, he had given to the world
+his romances of "The Black Dwarf," "Old Mortality," "Rob Roy," "The
+Heart of Midlothian," "The Bride of Lammermoor," "A Legend of Montrose,"
+and "Ivanhoe." The attainment of the baronetcy appears to have
+stimulated him to still greater exertion. In 1820 he produced, besides
+"Ivanhoe," which appeared in the early part of that year, "The
+Monastery" and "The Abbot;" and in the beginning of 1821, the romance of
+"Kenilworth," being twelve volumes published within the same number of
+months. "The Pirate" and "The Fortunes of Nigel" appeared in 1822;
+"Peveril of the Peak" and "Quentin Durward," in 1823; "St Ronan's Well"
+and "Redgauntlet," in 1824; and "The Tales of the Crusaders," in 1825.
+
+During the visit of George IV. to Scotland, in 1822, Sir Walter
+undertook the congenial duty of acting as Master of Ceremonies, which he
+did to the entire satisfaction of his sovereign and of the nation. But
+while prosperity seemed to smile with increasing brilliancy, adversity
+was hovering near. In 1826, Archibald Constable and Company, the famous
+publishers of his works, became insolvent, involving in their
+bankruptcy the printing firm of the Messrs Ballantyne, of which Sir
+Walter was a partner. The liabilities amounted to the vast sum of
+102,000, for which Sir Walter was individually responsible. To a mind
+less balanced by native intrepidity and fortified by principle, the
+apparent wreck of his worldly hopes would have produced irretrievable
+despondency; but Scott bore his misfortune with magnanimity and manly
+resignation. He had been largely indebted to both the establishments
+which had unfortunately involved him in their fall, in the elegant
+production of his works, as well as in respect of pecuniary
+accommodation; and he felt bound in honour, as well as by legal
+obligation, fully to discharge the debt. He declined to accept an offer
+of the creditors to be satisfied with a composition; and claiming only
+to be allowed time, applied himself with indomitable energy to his
+arduous undertaking, at the age of fifty-five, in the full
+determination, if his life was spared, of cancelling every farthing of
+his obligations. At the crisis of his embarrassments he was engaged in
+the composition of "Woodstock," which shortly afterwards appeared. The
+"Life of Napoleon," which had for a considerable time occupied his
+attention, was published in 1827, in nine vols. octavo. In the course of
+its preparation he had visited both London and Paris in search of
+materials. In the same year he produced "Chronicles of the Canongate,"
+_first series_; and in the year following, the second series of those
+charming tales, and the first portion of his juvenile history of
+Scotland, under the title of "Tales of a Grandfather." A second portion
+of these tales appeared in 1829, and the third and concluding series in
+1830, when he also contributed a graver History of Scotland in two
+volumes to _Lardner's Cabinet Cyclopdia_. In 1829 likewise appeared
+"Anne of Geierstein," a romance, and in 1830 the "Letters on Demonology
+and Witchcraft." In 1831 he produced a series of "Tales on French
+History," uniform with the "Tales of a Grandfather," and his novels,
+"Count Robert of Paris," and "Castle Dangerous," as a fourth series of
+"Tales of My Landlord." Other productions of inferior mark appeared from
+his pen; he contributed to the _Edinburgh Review_, during the first year
+of its career; wrote the articles, "Chivalry," "Romance," and "Drama,"
+for the sixth edition of the _Encyclopdia Britannica_; and during his
+latter years contributed somewhat copiously to the _Quarterly Review_.
+
+At a public dinner in Edinburgh, for the benefit of the Theatrical Fund,
+on the 23d of February 1827, Sir Walter made his first avowal as to the
+authorship of the Waverley Novels,--an announcement which scarcely took
+the public by surprise. The physical energies of the illustrious author
+were now suffering a rapid decline; and in his increasing infirmities,
+and liability to sudden and severe attacks of pain, and even of
+unconsciousness, it became evident to his friends, that, in the
+praiseworthy effort to pay his debts, he was sacrificing his health and
+shortening his life. Those apprehensions proved not without foundation.
+In the autumn of 1831, his health became so lamentably broken, that his
+medical advisers recommended a residence in Italy, and entire cessation
+from mental occupation, as the only means of invigorating a constitution
+so seriously dilapidated. But the counsel came too late; the patient
+proceeded to Naples, and afterwards to Rome, but experiencing no benefit
+from the change, he was rapidly conveyed homewards in the following
+summer, in obedience to his express wish, that he might have the
+satisfaction of closing his eyes at Abbotsford. The wish was gratified:
+he arrived at Abbotsford on the 11th of July 1832, and survived till
+the 21st of the ensuing September. According to his own request, his
+remains were interred in an aisle in Dryburgh Abbey, which had belonged
+to one of his ancestors, and had been granted to him by the late Earl of
+Buchan. A heavy block of marble rests upon the grave, in juxtaposition
+with another which has been laid on that of his affectionate partner in
+life, who died in May 1826. The aisle is protected by a heavy iron
+railing.
+
+In stature, Sir Walter Scott was above six feet; but his personal
+appearance, which had otherwise been commanding, was considerably marred
+by the lameness of his right limb, which caused him to walk with an
+awkward effort, and ultimately with much difficulty. His countenance, so
+correctly represented in his numerous portraits and busts, was
+remarkable for depth of forehead; his features were somewhat heavy, and
+his eyes, covered with thick eyelashes, were dull, unless animated by
+congenial conversation. He was of a fair complexion; and his hair,
+originally sandy, became gray from a severe illness which he suffered in
+his 48th year. His general conversation consisted in the detail of
+chivalric adventures and anecdotes of the olden times. His memory was so
+retentive that whatever he had studied indelibly maintained a place in
+his recollection. In fertility of imagination he surpassed all his
+contemporaries. As a poet, if he has not the graceful elegance of
+Campbell, and the fervid energy of Byron, he excels the latter in purity
+of sentiment, and the former in vigour of conception. His style was well
+adapted for the composition of lyric poetry; but as he had no ear for
+music, his song compositions are not numerous. Several of these,
+however, have been set to music, and maintain their popularity.[72] But
+Scott's reputation as a poet is inferior to his reputation as a
+novelist; and while even his best poems may cease to be generally read,
+the author of the Waverley Novels will only be forgotten with the disuse
+of the language. A cabinet edition of these novels, with the author's
+last notes, and illustrated with elegant engravings, appeared in
+forty-eight volumes a short period before his decease; several other
+complete editions have since been published by the late Mr Robert
+Cadell, and by the present proprietors of the copyright, the Messrs
+Black of Edinburgh.
+
+As a man of amiable dispositions and incorruptible integrity, Sir Walter
+Scott shone conspicuous among his contemporaries, the latter quality
+being eminently exhibited in his resolution to pay the whole of his
+heavy pecuniary liabilities. To this effort he fell a martyr; yet it was
+a source of consolation to his survivors, that, by his own extraordinary
+exertions, the policy of life insurance payable at his death, and the
+sum of 30,000 paid by Mr Cadell for the copyright of his works, the
+whole amount of the debt was discharged. It is, however painfully, to be
+remarked, that the object of his earlier ambition, in raising a family,
+has not been realised. His children, consisting of two sons and two
+daughters, though not constitutionally delicate, have all departed from
+the scene, and the only representative of his house is the surviving
+child of his eldest daughter, who was married to Mr John Gibson
+Lockhart, the late editor of the _Quarterly Review_, and his literary
+executor. This sole descendant, a grand-daughter, is the wife of Mr
+Hope, Q.C., who has lately added to his patronymic the name of Scott,
+and made Abbotsford his summer residence. The memory of the illustrious
+Minstrel has received every honour from his countrymen; monuments have
+been raised to him in the principal towns--that in the capital, a rich
+Gothic cross, being one of the noblest decorations of his native city.
+Abbotsford has become the resort of the tourist and of the traveller
+from every land, who contemplate with interest and devotion a scene
+hallowed by the loftiest genius.
+
+ "The grass is trodden by the feet
+ Of thousands, from a thousand lands--
+ The prince, the peasant, tottering age,
+ And rosy schoolboy bands;
+ All crowd to fairy Abbotsford,
+ And lingering gaze, and gaze the more;
+ Hang o'er the chair in which _he_ sat,
+ The latest dress _he_ wore."[73]
+
+
+[72] We regret that, owing to the provision of the copyright act, we are
+unable, in this work, to present four of Sir Walter Scott's most popular
+songs, "The Blue Bonnets over the Border," "Jock o' Hazeldean,"
+"M'Gregor's Gathering," and "Carle, now the King's come." These songs
+must, however, be abundantly familiar to the majority of readers.
+
+[73] From "The Grave of Sir Walter Scott," a poem by Thomas C. Latto
+(see "The Minister's Kail-yard, and other Poems." Edinburgh, 1845,
+12mo). To explain an allusion in the last line of the above stanza, it
+should be noticed, that the last dress of the poet is exhibited to
+visitors at Abbotsford, carefully preserved in a glass case.
+
+
+
+
+IT WAS AN ENGLISH LADYE BRIGHT.[74]
+
+
+ It was an English ladye bright
+ (The sun shines fair on Carlisle wall),
+ And she would marry a Scottish knight,
+ For Love will still be lord of all.
+
+ Blithely they saw the rising sun,
+ When he shone fair on Carlisle wall;
+ But they were sad ere day was done,
+ Though Love was still the lord of all.
+
+ The sire gave brooch and jewel fine,
+ Where the sun shines fair on Carlisle wall;
+ Her brother gave but a flask of wine,
+ For ire that Love was lord of all.
+
+ For she had lands, both meadow and lea,
+ Where the sun shines fair on Carlisle wall,
+ And he swore her death, ere he would see
+ A Scottish knight the lord of all.
+
+ That wine she had not tasted well
+ (The sun shines fair on Carlisle wall),
+ When dead in her true love's arms she fell,
+ For Love was still the lord of all.
+
+ He pierced her brother to the heart,
+ Where the sun shines fair on Carlisle wall--
+ So perish all would true love part,
+ That Love may still be lord of all!
+
+ And then he took the cross divine
+ (Where the sun shines fair on Carlisle wall),
+ And died for her sake in Palestine,
+ So Love was still the lord of all.
+
+ Now all ye lovers, that faithful prove,
+ (The sun shines fair on Carlisle wall)
+ Pray for their souls who died for love,
+ For Love shall still be lord of all!
+
+
+[74] This song appears in the sixth canto of "The Lay of the Last
+Minstrel." "It is the author's object in these songs," writes Lord
+Jeffrey, "to exemplify the different styles of ballad-narrative which
+prevailed in this island at different periods, or in different
+conditions of society. The first (the above) is conducted upon the rude
+and simple model of the old border ditties, and produces its effect by
+the direct and concise narrative of a tragical occurrence."
+
+
+
+
+LOCHINVAR.[75]
+
+
+ Oh, young Lochinvar is come out of the west,
+ Through all the wide border his steed was the best;
+ And save his good broadsword he weapons had none,
+ He rode all unarm'd, and he rode all alone.
+ So faithful in love, and so dauntless in war,
+ There never was knight like the young Lochinvar.
+
+ He stay'd not for brake, and he stopp'd not for stone,
+ He swam the Eske river where ford there was none;
+ But ere he alighted at Netherby gate,
+ The bride had consented, the gallant came late:
+ For a laggard in love, and a dastard in war,
+ Was to wed the fair Ellen of brave Lochinvar.
+
+ So boldly he enter'd the Netherby Hall,
+ Among bridesmen, and kinsmen, and brothers, and all:
+ Then spoke the bride's father, his hand on his sword,
+ (For the poor craven bridegroom said never a word)
+ "Oh, come ye in peace here, or come ye in war,
+ Or to dance at our bridal, young Lord Lochinvar?"
+
+ "I long woo'd your daughter, my suit you denied;--
+ Love swells like the Solway, but ebbs like its tide--
+ And now am I come, with this lost love of mine,
+ To lead but one measure, drink one cup of wine;
+ There are maidens in Scotland more lovely by far,
+ That would gladly be bride to the young Lochinvar."
+
+ The bride kiss'd the goblet; the knight took it up,
+ He quaff'd off the wine, and he threw down the cup;
+ She look'd down to blush, and she look'd up to sigh,
+ With a smile on her lips, and a tear in her eye.
+ He took her soft hand, ere her mother could bar--
+ "Now tread we a measure!" said young Lochinvar.
+
+ So stately his form, and so lovely her face,
+ That never a hall such a galliard did grace;
+ While her mother did fret, and her father did fume,
+ And the bridegroom stood dangling his bonnet and plume;
+ And the bride-maidens whisper'd, "'Twere better, by far,
+ To have match'd our fair cousin with young Lochinvar."
+
+ One touch to her hand, and one word in her ear,
+ When they reach'd the hall-door, and the charger stood near;
+ So light to the croupe the fair lady he swung,
+ So light to the saddle before her he sprung!
+ "She is won! we are gone, over bank, bush, and scaur;
+ They 'll have fleet steeds that follow," quoth young Lochinvar.
+
+ There was mounting 'mong Grmes of the Netherby clan;
+ Forsters, Fenwicks, and Musgraves, they rode and they ran:
+ There was racing, and chasing, on Cannobie Lea,
+ But the lost bride of Netherby ne'er did they see.
+ So daring in love, and so dauntless in war,
+ Have ye e'er heard of gallant like young Lochinvar?
+
+
+[75] This song occurs in the fifth canto of "Marmion." It is founded on
+a ballad entitled "Katharine Janfarie," in the "Minstrelsy of the
+Scottish Border."
+
+
+
+
+WHERE SHALL THE LOVER REST.[76]
+
+
+ Where shall the lover rest,
+ Whom the fates sever
+ From his true maiden's breast,
+ Parted for ever?
+ Where, through groves deep and high,
+ Sounds the far billow;
+ Where early violets die
+ Under the willow.
+ Eleu loro, &c.
+ Soft shall be his pillow.
+
+ There, through the summer day,
+ Cool streams are laving;
+ There, while the tempests sway,
+ Scarce are boughs waving;
+ There, thy rest shalt thou take,
+ Parted for ever;
+ Never again to wake,
+ Never, O never!
+ Eleu loro, &c.
+ Never, O never!
+
+ Where shall the traitor rest,
+ He, the deceiver,
+ Who could win maiden's breast,
+ Ruin, and leave her?
+ In the lost battle,
+ Borne down by the flying,
+ Where mingle war's rattle
+ With groans of the dying.
+ Eleu loro, &c.
+ There shall he be lying.
+
+ Her wing shall the eagle flap
+ O'er the false-hearted;
+ His warm blood the wolf shall lap
+ Ere life be parted.
+ Shame and dishonour sit
+ By his grave ever;
+ Blessing shall hallow it,--
+ Never, O never!
+ Eleu loro, &c.
+ Never, O never!
+
+
+[76] From the third canto of "Marmion."
+
+
+
+
+SOLDIER, REST! THY WARFARE O'ER.[77]
+
+
+ Soldier, rest! thy warfare o'er,
+ Sleep the sleep that knows not breaking;
+ Dream of battle-fields no more,
+ Days of danger, nights of waking.
+ In our isle's enchanted hall,
+ Hands unseen thy couch are strewing,
+ Fairy strains of music fall,
+ Every sense in slumber dewing.
+ Soldier, rest! thy warfare o'er,
+ Dream of fighting fields no more;
+ Sleep the sleep that knows not breaking,
+ Morn of toil, nor night of waking.
+
+ No rude sound shall reach thine ear,
+ Armour's clang, or war-steed champing;
+ Trump nor pibroch summon here,
+ Mustering clan, or squadron tramping.
+ Yet the lark's shrill fife may come
+ At the daybreak from the fallow;
+ And the bittern sound his drum,
+ Booming from the sedgy shallow.
+ Ruder sounds shall none be near,
+ Guards nor wardens challenge here;
+ Here 's no war-steed's neigh and champing,
+ Shouting clans, or squadrons' stamping.
+
+ Huntsman, rest! thy chase is done;
+ While our slumbrous spells assail ye,
+ Dream not, with the rising sun,
+ Bugles here shall sound reveill.
+ Sleep! the deer is in his den;
+ Sleep! nor dream in yonder glen,
+ How thy gallant steed lay dying.
+ Huntsman, rest! thy chase is done,
+ Think not of the rising sun,
+ For at dawning to assail ye,
+ Here no bugles sound reveill.
+
+
+[77] The song of Lady Margaret in the first canto of "The Lady of the
+Lake."
+
+
+
+
+HAIL TO THE CHIEF WHO IN TRIUMPH ADVANCES![78]
+
+
+ Hail to the chief who in triumph advances!
+ Honour'd and bless'd be the ever-green pine!
+ Long may the tree, in his banner that glances,
+ Flourish, the shelter and grace of our line!
+ Heaven send it happy dew,
+ Earth lend it sap anew,
+ Gaily to bourgeon, and broadly to grow,
+ While every Highland glen
+ Sends our shout back agen,
+ Roderigh Vich Alpine dhu, ho! ieroe!
+
+ Ours is no sapling, chance-sown by the fountain,
+ Blooming at Beltane, in winter to fade;
+ When the whirlwind has stripp'd every leaf on the mountain,
+ The more shall Clan-Alpine exult in her shade;
+ Moor'd in the rifted rock
+ Proof to the tempest shock,
+ Firmer he roots him the ruder it blow;
+ Menteith and Breadalbane, then,
+ Echo his praise agen,
+ Roderigh Vich Alpine dhu, ho! ieroe!
+
+ Proudly our pibroch has thrill'd in Glen Fruin,
+ And Bannochar's groans to our slogan replied;
+ Glen Luss and Ross-dhu, they are smoking in ruin,
+ And the best of Loch Lomond lie dead on her side.
+ Widow and Saxon maid
+ Long shall lament our raid,
+ Think of Clan-Alpine with fear and with woe;
+ Lennox and Leven-Glen
+ Shake when they hear agen,
+ Roderigh Vich Alpine dhu, ho! ieroe!
+
+ Row, vassals, row, for the pride of the Highlands!
+ Stretch to your oars for the ever-green pine!
+ Oh, that the rosebud that graces yon islands
+ Were wreathed in a garland around him to twine!
+ O that some seedling gem,
+ Worthy such noble stem,
+ Honour'd and bless'd in their shadow might grow!
+ Loud should Clan-Alpine then
+ Ring from the deepmost glen,
+ Roderigh Vich Alpine dhu, ho! ieroe!
+
+
+[78] The "boat song" in the second canto of "The Lady of the Lake." It
+may be sung to the air of "The Banks of the Devon."
+
+
+
+
+THE HEATH THIS NIGHT MUST BE MY BED.[79]
+
+
+ The heath this night must be my bed,
+ The bracken curtains for my head,
+ My lullaby the warder's tread,
+ Far, far from love and thee, Mary.
+
+ To-morrow eve, more stilly laid,
+ My couch may be the bloody plaid,
+ My vesper song, thy wail, sweet maid!
+ It will not waken me, Mary!
+
+ I may not, dare not, fancy now
+ The grief that clouds thy lovely brow,
+ I dare not think upon thy vow,
+ And all it promised me, Mary.
+
+ No fond regret must Norman know;
+ When bursts Clan-Alpine on the foe,
+ His heart must be like bended bow,
+ His foot like arrow free, Mary.
+
+ A time will come with feeling fraught,
+ For if I fall in battle fought,
+ Thy hapless lover's dying thought
+ Shall be a thought on thee, Mary.
+
+ And if return'd from conquer'd foes,
+ How blithely will the evening close,
+ How sweet the linnet sing repose
+ To my young bride and me, Mary!
+
+
+[79] Song of Norman in "The Lady of the Lake," canto third.
+
+
+
+
+THE IMPRISONED HUNTSMAN.[80]
+
+
+ My hawk is tired of perch and hood,
+ My idle greyhound loathes his food,
+ My horse is weary of his stall,
+ And I am sick of captive thrall;
+ I wish I were as I have been,
+ Hunting the hart in forest green,
+ With bended bow and bloodhound free,
+ For that 's the life is meet for me.
+
+ I hate to learn the ebb of time
+ From yon dull steeple's drowsy chime,
+ Or mark it as the sunbeams crawl,
+ Inch after inch, along the wall.
+ The lark was wont my matins ring,
+ The sable rook my vespers sing:
+ These towers, although a king's they be,
+ Have not a hall of joy for me.
+
+ No more at dawning morn I rise
+ And sun myself in Ellen's eyes,
+ Drive the fleet deer the forest through,
+ And homeward wend with evening dew;
+ A blithesome welcome blithely meet
+ And lay my trophies at her feet,
+ While fled the eve on wing of glee--
+ That life is lost to love and me!
+
+
+[80] "The Lady of the Lake," canto sixth.
+
+
+
+
+HE IS GONE ON THE MOUNTAIN.[81]
+
+
+ He is gone on the mountain,
+ He is lost to the forest,
+ Like a summer-dried fountain,
+ When our need was the sorest.
+ The font re-appearing,
+ From the rain-drops shall borrow;
+ But to us comes no cheering,
+ To Duncan no morrow!
+
+ The hand of the reaper
+ Takes the ears that are hoary,
+ But the voice of the weeper
+ Wails manhood in glory.
+ The autumn winds rushing
+ Wafts the leaves that are searest,
+ But our flower was in flushing
+ When blighting was nearest.
+
+ Fleet foot on the corrie,
+ Sage counsel in cumber,
+ Red hand in the foray,
+ How sound is thy slumber!
+ Like the dew on the mountain,
+ Like the foam on the river,
+ Like the bubble on the fountain,
+ Thou art gone, and for ever.
+
+
+[81] "The Lady of the Lake," canto third.
+
+
+
+
+A WEARY LOT IS THINE, FAIR MAID.[82]
+
+
+ "A weary lot is thine, fair maid,
+ A weary lot is thine!
+ To pull the thorn thy brow to braid,
+ And press the rue for wine!
+ A lightsome eye, a soldier's mien,
+ A feather of the blue,
+ A doublet of the Lincoln green,
+ No more of me ye knew, my love!
+ No more of me ye knew.
+
+ "This morn is merry June, I trow,
+ The rose is budding fain;
+ But she shall bloom in winter snow,
+ Ere we two meet again."
+ He turn'd his charger as he spake,
+ Upon the river shore,
+ He gave his bridle-reins a shake,
+ Said, "Adieu for evermore, my love!
+ And adieu for evermore."
+
+
+[82] "Rokeby," canto third.
+
+
+
+
+ALLEN-A-DALE.[83]
+
+
+ Allen-a-Dale has no faggot for burning,
+ Allen-a-Dale has no furrow for turning,
+ Allen-a-Dale has no fleece for the spinning,
+ Yet Allen-a-Dale has red gold for the winning;
+ Come, read me my riddle! come, hearken my tale!
+ And tell me the craft of bold Allen-a-Dale.
+
+ The Baron of Ravensworth prances in pride,
+ And he views his domains upon Arkindale side,
+ The mere for his net, and the land for his game,
+ The chase for the wild, and the park for the tame;
+ Yet the fish of the lake and the deer of the vale
+ Are less free to Lord Dacre than Allen-a-Dale.
+
+ Allen-a-Dale was ne'er belted a knight,
+ Though his spur be as sharp, and his blade be as bright;
+ Allen-a-Dale is no baron or lord,
+ Yet twenty tall yeomen will draw at his word;
+ And the best of our nobles his bonnet will vail,
+ Who at Rere-cross on Stanmore meets Allen-a-Dale.
+
+ Allen-a-Dale to his wooing is come;
+ The mother she asked of his household and home;
+ "Though the castle of Richmond stand fair on the hill,
+ My hall," quoth bold Allen, "shows gallanter still;
+ 'Tis the blue vault of heaven, with its crescent so pale,
+ And with all its bright spangles," said Allen-a-Dale.
+
+ The father was steel and the mother was stone,
+ They lifted the latch, and they bade him be gone;
+ But loud, on the morrow, their wail and their cry,
+ He had laugh'd on the lass with his bonny black eye,
+ And she fled to the forest to hear a love-tale,
+ And the youth it was told by was Allen-a-Dale.
+
+
+[83] "Rokeby," canto third.
+
+
+
+
+THE CYPRESS WREATH.[84]
+
+
+ Oh, lady! twine no wreath for me,
+ Or twine it of the cypress-tree!
+ Too lively glow the lilies' light,
+ The varnish'd holly 's all too bright,
+ The mayflower and the eglantine
+ May shade a brow less sad than mine;
+ But, lady, weave no wreath for me,
+ Or weave it of the cypress-tree!
+
+ Let dimpled mirth his temples twine
+ With tendrils of the laughing vine;
+ The manly oak, the pensive yew,
+ To patriot and to sage be due;
+ The myrtle bough bids lovers live
+ But that Matilda will not give;
+ Then, lady, twine no wreath for me,
+ Or twine it of the cypress-tree!
+
+ Let merry England proudly rear
+ Her blended roses, bought so dear;
+ Let Albin bind her bonnet blue
+ With heath and harebell dipp'd in dew.
+ On favour'd Erin's crest be seen
+ The flower she loves of emerald green;
+ But, lady, twine no wreath for me,
+ Or twine it of the cypress-tree!
+
+ Strike the wild harp while maids prepare
+ The ivy meet for minstrel's hair;
+ And, while his crown of laurel-leaves,
+ With bloody hand the victor weaves,
+ Let the loud trump his triumph tell;
+ But when you hear the passing-bell,
+ Then, lady, twine a wreath for me,
+ And twine it of the cypress-tree!
+
+ Yes, twine for me the cypress bough;
+ But, O Matilda, twine not now!
+ Stay till a few brief months are past
+ And I have look'd and loved my last!
+ When villagers my shroud bestrew
+ With pansies, rosemary, and rue,--
+ Then, lady, weave a wreath for me,
+ And weave it of the cypress-tree!
+
+
+[84] "Rokeby," canto fifth.
+
+
+
+
+THE CAVALIER.[85]
+
+
+ While the dawn on the mountain was misty and gray,
+ My true love has mounted his steed and away,
+ Over hill, over valley, o'er dale, and o'er down;--
+ Heaven shield the brave gallant that fights for the crown!
+
+ He has doff'd the silk doublet the breastplate to bear,
+ He has placed the steel cap o'er his long flowing hair,
+ From his belt to his stirrup his broadsword hangs down--
+ Heaven shield the brave gallant that fights for the crown!
+
+ For the rights of fair England that broadsword he draws,
+ Her king is his leader, her church is his cause,
+ His watchword is honour, his pay is renown,--
+ God strike with the gallant that strikes for the crown!
+
+ They may boast of their Fairfax, their Waller, and all
+ The roundheaded rebels of Westminster Hall;
+ But tell these bold traitors of London's proud town,
+ That the spears of the north have encircled the crown.
+
+ There 's Derby and Cavendish, dread of their foes;
+ There 's Erin's high Ormond, and Scotland's Montrose!
+ Would you match the base Skippon, and Massey, and Brown,
+ With the barons of England that fight for the crown?
+
+ Now joy to the crest of the brave cavalier,
+ Be his banner unconquer'd, resistless his spear,
+ Till in peace and in triumph his toils he may drown,
+ In a pledge to fair England, her church, and her crown!
+
+
+[85] "Rokeby," canto fifth.
+
+
+
+
+HUNTING SONG.[86]
+
+
+ Waken, lords and ladies gay,
+ On the mountain dawns the day,
+ All the jolly chase is here,
+ With hawk, and horse, and hunting-spear!
+ Hounds are in their couples yelling,
+ Hawks are whistling, horns are knelling,
+ Merrily, merrily, mingle they--
+ "Waken, lords and ladies gay."
+
+ Waken, lords and ladies gay,
+ The mist has left the mountain gray,
+ Springlets in the dawn are steaming,
+ Diamonds on the brake are gleaming:
+ And foresters have busy been
+ To track the buck in thicket green;
+ Now we come to chant our lay,
+ "Waken, lords and ladies gay."
+
+ Waken, lords and ladies gay,
+ To the green-wood haste away;
+ We can shew you where he lies,
+ Fleet of foot and tall of size;
+ We can shew the marks he made
+ When 'gainst the oak his antlers fray'd;
+ You shall see him brought to bay,
+ "Waken, lords and ladies gay."
+
+ Louder, louder chant the lay,
+ Waken, lords and ladies gay!
+ Tell them youth, and mirth, and glee,
+ Run a course as well as we;
+ Time, stern huntsman! who can baulk,
+ Stanch as hound, and fleet as hawk?
+ Think of this, and rise with day,
+ Gentle lords and ladies gay.
+
+
+[86] First published in the continuation of Strutt's Queenhoohall, 1808,
+inserted in the _Edinburgh Annual Register_, of the same year, and set
+to a Welsh air in Thomson's _Select Melodies_, vol. iii., 1817.
+
+
+
+
+OH, SAY NOT, MY LOVE, WITH THAT MORTIFIED AIR.
+
+
+ Oh, say not, my love, with that mortified air,
+ That your spring-time of pleasure is flown;
+ Nor bid me to maids that are younger repair,
+ For those raptures that still are thine own.
+
+ Though April his temples may wreathe with the vine,
+ Its tendrils in infancy curl'd;
+ 'Tis the ardour of August matures us the wine,
+ Whose life-blood enlivens the world.
+
+ Though thy form, that was fashion'd as light as a fay's,
+ Has assumed a proportion more round,
+ And thy glance, that was bright as a falcon's at gaze,
+ Looks soberly now on the ground--
+
+ Enough, after absence to meet me again,
+ Thy steps still with ecstacy move;
+ Enough, that those dear sober glances retain
+ For me the kind language of love.
+
+
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+METRICAL TRANSLATIONS
+
+FROM
+
+The Modern Gaelic Minstrelsy.
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+
+
+ROBERT MACKAY (ROB DONN).
+
+
+Robert Mackay, called _Donn_, from the colour of his hair, which was
+brown or chestnut, was born in the Strathmore of Sutherlandshire, about
+the year 1714.
+
+His calling, with the interval of a brief military service in the
+fencibles, was the tending of cattle, in the several gradations of herd,
+drover, and bo-man, or responsible cow-keeper--the last, in his pastoral
+county, a charge of trust and respectability. At one period he had an
+appointment in Lord Reay's forest; but some deviations into the
+"righteous theft"--so the Highlanders of those parts, it seems, call the
+appropriation of an occasional deer to their own use--forfeited his
+noble employer's confidence. Rob, however, does not appear to have
+suffered in his general character or reputation for an _unconsidered
+trifle_ like this, nor otherwise to have declined in the favour of his
+chief, beyond the necessity of transporting himself to a situation
+somewhat nearer the verge of Cape Wrath than the bosom of the deer
+preserve.
+
+Mackay was happily married, and brought up a large family in habits and
+sentiments of piety; a fact which his reverend biographer connects very
+touchingly with the stated solemnities of the "Saturday night," when the
+lighter chants of the week were exchanged at the worthy drover's
+fireside for the purer and holier melodies of another inspiration.[87]
+As a pendant to this creditable account of the bard's principles, we are
+informed that he was a frequent guest at the presbytery dinner-table; a
+circumstance which some may be so malicious as to surmise amounted to
+nothing more than a purpose to enhance the festive recreations of the
+reverend body--a suspicion, we believe, in this particular instance,
+totally unfounded. He died in 1778; and he has succeeded to some rather
+peculiar honours for a person in his position, or even of his mark. He
+has had a reverend doctor for his editorial biographer,[88] and no less
+than Sir Walter Scott for his reviewer.[89]
+
+The passages which Sir Walter has culled from some literal translations
+that were submitted to him, are certainly the most favourable specimens
+of the bard that we have been able to discover in his volume. The rest
+are generally either satiric rants too rough or too local for
+transfusion, or panegyrics on the living and the dead, in the usual
+extravagant style of such compositions, according to the taste of the
+Highlanders and the usage of their bards; or they are love-lays, of
+which the language is more copious and diversified than the sentiment.
+In the gleanings on which we have ventured, after the illustrious person
+who has done so much honour to the bard by his comments and selections,
+we have attempted to draw out a little more of the peculiar character of
+the poet's genius.
+
+
+[87] Songs and Poems of Robert Mackay, p. 38. (Inverness, 1829. 8vo.)
+
+[88] The Rev. Dr Mackintosh Mackay, successively minister of Laggan and
+Dunoon, now a clergyman in Australia.
+
+[89] _Quarterly Review_, vol. xlv., April 1831.
+
+
+
+
+THE SONG OF WINTER.
+
+ This is selected as a specimen of Mackay's descriptive poetry. It
+ is in a style peculiar to the Highlands, where description runs so
+ entirely into epithets and adjectives, as to render recitation
+ breathless, and translation hopeless. Here, while we have retained
+ the imagery, we have been unable to find room, or rather rhyme, for
+ one half of the epithets in the original. The power of alliterative
+ harmony in the original song is extraordinary.
+
+
+ I.
+
+ At waking so early
+ Was snow on the Ben,
+ And, the glen of the hill in,
+ The storm-drift so chilling
+ The linnet was stilling,
+ That couch'd in its den;
+ And poor robin was shrilling
+ In sorrow his strain.
+
+
+ II.
+
+ Every grove was expecting
+ Its leaf shed in gloom;
+ The sap it is draining,
+ Down rootwards 'tis straining,
+ And the bark it is waning
+ As dry as the tomb,
+ And the blackbird at morning
+ Is shrieking his doom.
+
+
+ III.
+
+ Ceases thriving, the knotted,
+ The stunted birk-shaw;[90]
+ While the rough wind is blowing,
+ And the drift of the snowing
+ Is shaking, o'erthrowing,
+ The copse on the law.
+
+
+ IV.
+
+ 'Tis the season when nature
+ Is all in the sere,
+ When her snow-showers are hailing,
+ Her rain-sleet assailing,
+ Her mountain winds wailing,
+ Her rime-frosts severe.
+
+
+ V.
+
+ 'Tis the season of leanness,
+ Unkindness, and chill;
+ Its whistle is ringing,
+ An iciness bringing,
+ Where the brown leaves are clinging
+ In helplessness, still,
+ And the snow-rush is delving
+ With furrows the hill.
+
+
+ VI.
+
+ The sun is in hiding,
+ Or frozen its beam
+ On the peaks where he lingers,
+ On the glens, where the singers,[91]
+ With their bills and small fingers
+ Are raking the stream,
+ Or picking the midstead
+ For forage--and scream.
+
+
+ VII.
+
+ When darkens the gloaming
+ Oh, scant is their cheer!
+ All benumb'd is their song in
+ The hedge they are thronging,
+ And for shelter still longing,
+ The mortar[92] they tear;
+ Ever noisily, noisily
+ Squealing their care.
+
+
+ VIII.
+
+ The running stream's chieftain[93]
+ Is trailing to land,
+ So flabby, so grimy,
+ So sickly, so slimy,--
+ The spots of his prime he
+ Has rusted with sand;
+ Crook-snouted his crest is
+ That taper'd so grand.
+
+
+ IX.
+
+ How mournful in winter
+ The lowing of kine;
+ How lean-back'd they shiver,
+ How draggled their cover,
+ How their nostrils run over
+ With drippings of brine,
+ So scraggy and crining
+ In the cold frost they pine.
+
+
+ X.
+
+ 'Tis hallow-mass time, and
+ To mildness farewell!
+ Its bristles are low'ring
+ With darkness; o'erpowering
+ Are its waters, aye showering
+ With onset so fell;
+ Seem the kid and the yearling
+ As rung their death-knell.
+
+
+ XI.
+
+ Every out-lying creature,
+ How sinew'd soe'er,
+ Seeks the refuge of shelter;
+ The race of the antler
+ They snort and they falter,
+ A-cold in their lair;
+ And the fawns they are wasting
+ Since their kin is afar.
+
+
+ XII.
+
+ Such the songs that are saddest
+ And dreariest of all;
+ I ever am eerie
+ In the morning to hear ye!
+ When foddering, to cheer the
+ Poor herd in the stall--
+ While each creature is moaning,
+ And sickening in thrall.
+
+
+[90] "Birk-shaw." A few Scotticisms will be found in these versions, at
+once to flavour the style, and, it must be admitted, to assist the
+rhymes.
+
+[91] Birds.
+
+[92] The sides of the cottages--plastered with mud or mortar, instead of
+lime.
+
+[93] Salmon.
+
+
+
+
+DIRGE FOR IAN MACECHAN.
+
+A FRAGMENT.
+
+ Mackay was entertained by Macechan, who was a respectable
+ store-farmer, from his earliest life to his marriage. According to
+ his reverend biographer,[94] the last lines of the elegy, of which
+ the following is a translation, were much approved.
+
+
+ I see the wretch of high degree,
+ Though poverty has struck his race,
+ Pass with a darkness on his face
+ That door of hospitality.
+
+ I see the widow in her tears,
+ Dark as her woe--I see her boy--
+ From both, want reaves the dregs of joy;
+ The flash of youth through rags appears.
+
+ I see the poor's--the minstrel's lot--
+ As brethren they--no boon for song!
+ I see the unrequited wrong
+ Call for its helper, who is not.
+
+ You hear my plaint, and ask me, why?
+ You ask me _when_ this deep distress
+ Began to rage without redress?
+ "With Ian Macechan's dying sigh!"
+
+
+[94] "Poems," p. 318.
+
+
+
+
+THE SONG OF THE FORSAKEN DROVER.
+
+ During a long absence on a droving expedition, Mackay was deprived of
+ his mistress by another lover, whom, in fine, she married. The discovery
+ he made, on his return, led to this composition; which is a sequel to
+ another composed on his distant journey, in which he seems to
+ prognosticate something like what happened. Both are selected by Sir
+ Walter Scott as specimens of the bard, and may be found paraphrastically
+ rendered in a prose version, in the _Quarterly Review_, vol. xlv., p.
+ 371, and in the notes to the last edition of "The Highland Drover," in
+ "Chronicles of the Canongate." With regard to the present specimen, it
+ may be remarked, that part of the original is either so obscure, or so
+ freely rendered by Sir Walter Scott's translator, that we have attempted
+ the present version, not without some little perplexity as to the sense
+ of one or two allusions. We claim, on the whole, the merit of almost
+ literal fidelity.
+
+
+ I.
+
+ I fly from the fold, since my passion's despair
+ No longer must harbour the charms that are there;
+ Anne's[95] slender eyebrows, her sleek tresses so long,
+ Her turreted bosom--and Isabel's[96] song;
+ What has been, and is not--woe 's my thought!
+ It must not be spoken, nor can be forgot.
+
+
+ II.
+
+ I wander'd the fold, and I rambled the grove,
+ And each spot it reported the kiss of my love;
+ But I saw her caressing another--and feel
+ 'Tis distraction to hear them, and see them so leal.
+ What has been, and is not, &c.
+
+
+ III.
+
+ Since 'twas told that a rival beguil'd thee away,
+ The dreams of my love are the dreams of dismay;
+ Though unsummon'd of thee,[97] love has captured thy thrall,
+ And my hope of redemption for ever is small.
+ Day and night, though I strive aye
+ To shake him away, still he clings like the ivy.
+
+
+ IV.
+
+ But, auburn-hair'd Anna! to tell thee my plight,
+ 'Tis old love unrequited that prostrates my might,
+ In presence or absence, aye faithful, my smart
+ Still racks, and still searches, and tugs at my heart--
+ Broken that heart, yet why disappear
+ From my country, without one embrace from my dear?
+
+
+ V.
+
+ She answers with laughter and haughty disdain--
+ "To handle my snood you petition in vain;
+ Six suitors are mine since the year thou wert gone,
+ What art _thou_, that thou should'st be the favourite one?
+ Art thou sick? Ha, ha, for thy woe!
+ Art thou dying for love? Troth, love's payment was slow."[98]
+
+
+ VI.
+
+ Though my anger may feign it requites thy disdain,
+ And vaunts in thy absence, it threatens in vain--
+ All in vain! for thy image in fondness returns,
+ And o'er thy sweet likeness expectancy burns;
+ And I hope--yes, I hope once more,
+ Till my hope waxes high as a tower[99] in its soar.
+
+
+[95] "Anne"--Rob's first love, the heroine of the piece. "Similar in
+interest to the Highland Mary of Burns, is the yellow-haired Anne of Rob
+Donn."--"Life," p. 18.
+
+[96] "Isabel"--the daughter of Ian Macechan, the subject of other
+verses.
+
+[97] "Unsummon'd of thee." The idea is rather quaintly expressed in the
+original thus--"Though thou hast sent me no summons, love has, of his
+own accord, acted the part of a catchpole (or sheriff's officer), and
+will not release me." Such are the homely fancies introduced into some
+of the most passionate strains of the Gaelic muse.
+
+[98] Alluding to his absence, and delay in his courtship.
+
+[99] Rather more modest than the classic's "feriam sidera vertice."
+
+
+
+
+ISABEL MACKAY--THE MAID ALONE.
+
+TO A PIOBRACH TUNE.
+
+ This is one of those lyrics, of which there are many in Gaelic poetry,
+ that are intended to imitate pipe music. They consist of three parts,
+ called Urlar, Siubhal, and Crunluath. The first is a slow, monotonous
+ measure, usually, indeed, a mere repetition of the same words or tones;
+ the second, a livelier or brisker melody, striking into description or
+ narrative; the third, a rapid finale, taxing the reciter's or
+ performer's powers to their utmost pitch of expedition. The heroine of
+ the song is the same Isabel who is introduced towards the commencement
+ of the "Forsaken Drover;" and it appears, from other verses in Mackay's
+ collection, that it was not her fate to be "alone" through life. It is
+ to be understood that when the verses were composed, she was in charge
+ of her father's extensive pastoral _mange_, and not a mere milk-maid or
+ dairy-woman.
+
+
+ URLAR.
+
+ Isabel Mackay is with the milk kye,
+ And Isabel Mackay is alone;
+ Isabel Mackay is with the milk kye,
+ And Isabel Mackay is alone, &c.
+ Seest thou Isabel Mackay with the milk kye,
+ At the forest foot--and alone?
+
+
+ SIUBHAL.
+
+ By the Virgin and Son![100]
+ Thou bride-lacking one,
+ If ever thy time
+ Is coming, begone,
+ The occasion is prime,
+ For Isabel Mackay
+ Is with the milk kye
+ At the skirts of the forest,
+ And with her is none.
+ By the Virgin and Son, &c.
+
+ Woe is the sign!
+ It is not well
+ With the lads that dwell
+ Around us, so brave,
+ When the mistress fine
+ Of Riothan-a-dave
+ Is out with the kine,
+ And with her is none.
+ O, woe is the sign, &c.
+
+ Whoever he be
+ That a bride would gain
+ Of gentle degree,
+ And a drove or twain,
+ His speed let him strain
+ To Riothan-a-dave,
+ And a bride he shall have.
+ Then, to her so fain!
+ Whoever he be, &c.
+
+ And a bride he shall have,
+ The maid that's alone.
+ Isabel Mackay, &c.
+ Oh, seest not the dearie
+ So fit for embracing,
+ Her patience distressing,
+ The bestial a-chasing,
+ And she alone!
+
+ 'Tis a marvellous fashion
+ That men should be slack,
+ When their bosoms lack
+ An object of passion,
+ To look such a lass on,
+ Her patience distressing,
+ The bestial a-chasing,
+ In the field, alone.
+
+
+ CRUNLUATH (FINALE).
+
+ Oh, look upon the prize, sirs,
+ That where yon heights are rising,
+ The whole long twelvemonth sighs in,
+ Because she is alone.
+ Go, learn it from my minstrelsy,
+ Who list the tale to carry,
+ The maiden shuns the public eye,
+ And is ordain'd to tarry
+ 'Mid stoups and cans, and milking ware,
+ Where brown hills rear their ridges bare,
+ And wails her plight the livelong year,
+ To spend the day alone.
+
+
+[100] A common Highland adjuration.
+
+
+
+
+EVAN'S ELEGY.
+
+ Mackay was benighted on a deer-stalking expedition, near a wild hut
+ or shealing, at the head of Loch Eriboll. Here he found its only
+ inmate a poor asthmatic old man, stretched on his pallet,
+ apparently at the point of death. As he sat by his bed-side, he
+ "crooned," so as to be audible, it seems, to the patient, the
+ following elegiac ditty, in which, it will be observed, he alludes
+ to the death, then recent, of Pelham, an eminent statesman of
+ George the Second's reign. As he was finishing his ditty, the old
+ man's feelings were moved in a way which will be found in the
+ appended note. This is one of Sir Walter Scott's extracts in the
+ _Quarterly_, and is now attempted in the measure of the original.
+
+
+ How often, Death! art waking
+ The imploring cry of Nature!
+ When she sees her phalanx breaking,
+ As thou'dst have all--grim feature!
+ Since Autumn's leaves to brownness,
+ Of deeper shade were tending,
+ We saw thy step, from palaces,
+ To Evan's nook descending.
+ Oh, long, long thine agony!
+ A nameless length its tide;
+ Since breathless thou hast panted here,
+ And not a friend beside.
+ Thine errors what, I judge not;
+ What righteous deeds undone;
+ But if remains a se'ennight,
+ Redeem it, dying one!
+
+ Oh, marked we, Death! thy teachings true,
+ What dust of time would blind?
+ Such thy impartiality
+ To our highest, lowest kind.
+ Thy look is upwards, downwards shot,
+ Determined none to miss;
+ It rose to Pelham's princely bower,
+ It sinks to shed like this!
+ Oh, long, long, &c.!
+ So great thy victims, that the noble
+ Stand humbled by the bier;
+ So poor, it shames the poorest
+ To grace them with a tear.
+ Between the minister of state
+ And him that grovels there,
+ Should one remain uncounselled,
+ Is there one whom dool shall spare?
+ Oh, long, long, &c.!
+ The hail that strews the battle-field
+ Not louder sounds its call,
+ Than the falling thousands round us
+ Are voicing words to all.
+ Hearken! least of all the nameless;
+ Evan's hour is going fast;
+ Hearken! greatest of earth's great ones--
+ Princely Pelham's hour is past.
+ Oh, long, long, &c.!
+ Friends of my heart! in the twain we see
+ A type of life's declining;
+ 'Tis like the lantern's dripping light,
+ At either end a-dwining.
+ Where was there one more low than thou--
+ Thou least of meanest things?[101]
+ And where than his was higher place
+ Except the throne of kings?
+ Oh, long, long, &c.!
+
+
+[101] At this humiliating apostrophe, the beggar is reported to have
+instinctively raised his staff--an action which the bard observed just
+in time to avoid its descent on his back.
+
+
+
+
+DOUGAL BUCHANAN.
+
+
+Dougal Buchanan was born at the Mill of Ardoch, in the beautiful valley
+of Strathyre, and parish of Balquhidder, in the year 1716. His parents
+were in circumstances to allow him the education of the parish school;
+on which, by private application, he so far improved, as to be qualified
+to act as teacher and catechist to the Highland locality which borders
+on Loch Rannoch, under the appointment of the Society for Propagating
+Christian Knowledge. Never, it is believed, were the duties of a calling
+discharged with more zeal and efficiency. The catechist was, both in and
+out of the strict department of his office, a universal oracle,[102] and
+his name is revered in the scene of his usefulness in a degree to which
+the honours of canonization could scarcely have added. Pious, to the
+height of a proverbial model, he was withal frank, cheerful, and social;
+and from his extraordinary command of the Gaelic idiom, and its poetic
+phraseology, he must have lent an ear to many a song and many a
+legend[103]--a nourishment of the imagination in which, as well as in
+purity of Gaelic, his native Balquhidder was immeasurably inferior to
+the Rannoch district of his adoption.
+
+The composition of hymns, embracing a most eloquent and musical
+paraphrase of many of the more striking inspirations of scriptural
+poetry, seems to have been the favourite employment of his leisure
+hours. These are sung or recited in every cottage of the Highlands where
+a reader or a retentive memory is to be found.
+
+Buchanan's life was short. He was cut off by typhus fever, at a period
+when his talents had begun to attract a more than local attention. It
+was within a year after his return from superintending the press of the
+first version of the Gaelic New Testament, that his lamented death took
+place. His command of his native tongue is understood to have been
+serviceable to the translator, the Rev. James Stewart of Killin, who had
+probably been Buchanan's early acquaintance, as they were natives of the
+same district. This reverend gentleman is said to have entertained a
+scheme of getting the catechist regularly licensed to preach the gospel
+without the usual academical preparation. The scheme was frustrated by
+his death, in the summer of 1768.
+
+We know of no fact relating to the development of the poetic vein of
+this interesting bard, unless it be found in the circumstance to which
+he refers in his "Diary,"[104] of having been bred a violent Jacobite,
+and having lived many years under the excitement of strong, even
+vindictive feelings, at the fate of his chief and landlord (Buchanan of
+Arnprior and Strathyre), who, with many of his dependents, and some of
+the poet's relations, suffered death for their share in the last
+rebellion. While he relates that the power of religion at length
+quenched this effervescence of his emotions, it may be supposed that
+ardent Jacobitism, with its common accompaniment of melody, may have
+fostered an imagination which every circumstance proves to have been
+sufficiently susceptible. It may be added, as a particular not unworthy
+of memorial in a poet's life, that his remains are deposited in perhaps
+the most picturesque place of sepulture in the kingdom--the peninsula of
+Little Leny, in the neighbourhood of Callander; to which his relatives
+transferred his body, as the sepulchre of many chiefs and considerable
+persons of his clan, and where it is perhaps matter of surprise that his
+Highland countrymen have never thought of honouring his memory with some
+kind of monument.
+
+The poetic remains of Dougal Buchanan do not afford extensive materials
+for translation. The subjects with which he deals are too solemn, and
+their treatment too surcharged with scriptural imagery, to be available
+for the purposes of a popular collection, of which the object is not
+directly religious. The only exception that occurs, perhaps, is his poem
+on "The Skull." Even in this case some moral pictures[105] have been
+omitted, as either too coarsely or too solemnly touched, to be fit for
+our purpose. A few lines of the conclusion are also omitted, as being
+mere amplifications of Scripture--wonderful, indeed, in point of
+vernacular beauty or sublimity, but not fusible for other use. Slight
+traces of imitation may be perceived; "The Grave" of Blair, and some
+passages of "Hamlet," being the apparent models.
+
+
+[102] "Statistical Account of Fortingall."--Stat. Acc., x., p. 549.
+
+[103] The same account observes that though none of his works are
+published but his sacred compositions, he composed "several songs on
+various subjects."
+
+[104] Published at Glasgow, 1836.
+
+[105] These are his descriptions of "The Drunkard," "The Glutton," and
+"The Good and Wicked Pastor."
+
+
+
+
+A CLAGIONN.
+
+THE SKULL.
+
+
+ As I sat by the grave, at the brink of its cave
+ Lo! a featureless skull on the ground;
+ The symbol I clasp, and detain in my grasp,
+ While I turn it around and around.
+ Without beauty or grace, or a glance to express
+ Of the bystander nigh, a thought;
+ Its jaw and its mouth are tenantless both,
+ Nor passes emotion its throat.
+ No glow on its face, no ringlets to grace
+ Its brow, and no ear for my song;
+ Hush'd the caves of its breath, and the finger of death
+ The raised features hath flatten'd along.
+ The eyes' wonted beam, and the eyelids' quick gleam--
+ The intelligent sight, are no more;
+ But the worms of the soil, as they wriggle and coil,
+ Come hither their dwellings to bore.
+ No lineament here is left to declare
+ If monarch or chief art thou;
+ Alexander the Brave, as the portionless slave
+ That on dunghill expires, is as low.
+ Thou delver of death, in my ear let thy breath
+ Who tenants my hand, unfold;
+ That my voice may not die without a reply,
+ Though the ear it addresses is cold.
+ Say, wert thou a May,[106] of beauty a ray,
+ And flatter'd thine eye with a smile?
+ Thy meshes didst set, like the links of a net,
+ The hearts of the youth to wile?
+ Alas every charm that a bosom could warm
+ Is changed to the grain of disgust!
+ Oh, fie on the spoiler for daring to soil her
+ Gracefulness all in the dust!
+ Say, wise in the law, did the people with awe
+ Acknowledge thy rule o'er them--
+ A magistrate true, to all dealing their due,
+ And just to redress or condemn?
+ Or was righteousness sold for handfuls of gold
+ In the scales of thy partial decree;
+ While the poor were unheard when their suit they preferr'd,
+ And appeal'd their distresses to thee?
+ Say, once in thine hour, was thy medicine of power
+ To extinguish the fever of ail?
+ And seem'd, as the pride of thy leech-craft e'en tried
+ O'er omnipotent death to prevail?
+ Alas, that thine aid should have ever betray'd
+ Thy hope when the need was thine own;
+ What salve or annealing sufficed for thy healing
+ When the hours of thy portion were flown?
+ Or--wert thou a hero, a leader to glory,
+ While armies thy truncheon obey'd;
+ To victory cheering, as thy foemen careering
+ In flight, left their mountains of dead?
+ Was thy valiancy laid, or unhilted thy blade,
+ When came onwards in battle array
+ The sepulchre-swarms, ensheathed in their arms,
+ To sack and to rifle their prey?
+ How they joy in their spoil, as thy body the while
+ Besieging, the reptile is vain,
+ And her beetle-mate blind hums his gladness to find
+ His defence in the lodge of thy brain!
+ Some dig where the sheen of the ivory has been,
+ Some, the organ where music repair'd;
+ In rabble and rout they come in and come out
+ At the gashes their fangs have bared.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ Do I hold in my hand a whole lordship of land,
+ Represented by nakedness, here?
+ Perhaps not unkind to the helpless thy mind,
+ Nor all unimparted thy gear;
+ Perhaps stern of brow to thy tenantry thou!
+ To leanness their countenances grew--
+ 'Gainst their crave for respite, when thy clamour for right
+ Required, to a moment, its due;
+ While the frown of thy pride to the aged denied
+ To cover their head from the chill,
+ And humbly they stand, with their bonnet in hand,
+ As cold blows the blast of the hill.
+ Thy serfs may look on, unheeding thy frown,
+ Thy rents and thy mailings unpaid;
+ All praise to the stroke their bondage that broke!
+ While but claims their obeisance the dead.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ Or a head do I clutch, whose devices were such,
+ That death must have lent them his sting--
+ So daring they were, so reckless of fear,
+ As heaven had wanted a king?
+ Did the tongue of the lie, while it couch'd like a spy
+ In the haunt of thy venomous jaws,
+ Its slander display, as poisons its prey
+ The devilish snake in the grass?
+ That member unchain'd, by strong bands is restrain'd,
+ The inflexible shackles of death;
+ And, its emblem, the trail of the worm, shall prevail
+ Where its slaver once harbour'd beneath.
+ And oh! if thy scorn went down to thine urn
+ And expired, with impenitent groan;
+ To repose where thou art is of peace all thy part,
+ And then to appear--at the Throne!
+ Like a frog, from the lake that leapeth, to take
+ To the Judge of thy actions the way,
+ And to hear from His lips, amid nature's eclipse,
+ Thy sentence of termless dismay.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ The hardness of iron thy bones shall environ,
+ To brass-links the veins of thy frame
+ Shall stiffen, and the glow of thy manhood shall grow
+ Like the anvil that melts not in flame!
+ But wert thou the mould of a champion bold
+ For God and his truth and his law?
+ Oh, then, though the fence of each limb and each sense
+ Is broken--each gem with a flaw--
+ Be comforted thou! For rising in air
+ Thy flight shall the clarion obey;
+ And the shell of thy dust thou shalt leave to be crush'd,
+ If they will, by the creatures of prey.
+
+
+[106] Maiden or virgin--_orig._
+
+
+
+
+AM BRUADAR.
+
+THE DREAM.
+
+ We submit these further illustrations of the moral maxims of "The
+ Skull." In the original they are touched in phraseology scarcely
+ unworthy of the poet's Saxon models.
+
+
+ As lockfasted in slumber's arms
+ I lay and dream'd (so dreams our race
+ When every spectral object charms,
+ To melt, like shadow, in the chase),
+
+ A vision came; mine ear confess'd
+ Its solemn sounds. "Thou man distraught!
+ Say, owns the wind thy hand's arrest,
+ Or fills the world thy crave of thought?
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ "Since fell transgression ravaged here
+ And reft Man's garden-joys away,
+ He weeps his unavailing tear,
+ And straggles, like a lamb astray.
+
+ "With shrilling bleat for comfort hie
+ To every pinfold, humankind;
+ Ah, there the fostering teat is dry,
+ The stranger mother proves unkind.
+
+ "No rest for toil, no drink for drought,
+ For bosom-peace the shadow's wing--
+ So feeds expectancy on nought,
+ And suckles every lying thing.
+
+ "Some woe for ever wreathes its chain,
+ And hope foretells the clasp undone;
+ Relief at handbreadth seems, in vain
+ Thy fetter'd arms embrace--'tis gone!
+
+ "Not all that trial's lore unlearns
+ Of all the lies that life betrays,
+ Avails, for still desire returns--
+ The last day's folly is to-day's.
+
+ "Thy wish has prosper'd--has its taste
+ Survived the hour its lust was drown'd;
+ Or yields thine expectation's zest
+ To full fruition, golden-crown'd?
+
+ "The rosebud is life's symbol bloom,
+ 'Tis loved, 'tis coveted, 'tis riven--
+ Its grace, its fragrance, find a tomb,
+ When to the grasping hand 'tis given.
+
+ "Go, search the world, wherever woe
+ Of high or low the bosom wrings,
+ There, gasp for gasp, and throe for throe,
+ Is answer'd from the breast of kings.
+
+ "From every hearth-turf reeks its cloud,
+ From every heart its sigh is roll'd;
+ The rose's stalk is fang'd--one shroud
+ Is both the sting's and honey's fold.
+
+ "Is wealth thy lust--does envy pine
+ Where high its tempting heaps are piled?
+ Look down, behold the fountain shine,
+ And, deeper still, with dregs defiled!
+
+ "Quickens thy breath with rash inhale,
+ And falls an insect[107] in its toil?
+ The creature turns thy life-blood pale,
+ And blends thine ivory teeth with soil.
+
+ "When high thy fellow-mortal soars,
+ His state is like the topmost nest--
+ It swings with every blast that roars,
+ And every motion shakes its crest.
+
+ "And if the world for once is kind,
+ Yet ever has the lot its bend;
+ Where fortune has the crook inclined,
+ Not all thy strength or art shall mend.
+
+ "For as the sapling's sturdy stalk,
+ Whose double twist is crossly strain'd,
+ Such is thy fortune--sure to baulk
+ At this extreme what there was gain'd.
+
+ "When Heaven its gracious manna hail'd,
+ 'Twas vain who hoarded its supply,
+ Not all his miser care avail'd
+ His neighbour's portion to outvie.
+
+ "So, blended all that nature owns,
+ So, warp'd all hopes that mortals bless--
+ With boundless wealth, the sufferer's groans;
+ With courtly luxury, distress.
+
+ "Lift up the balance--heap with gold,
+ Its other shell vile dust shall fill;
+ And were a kingdom's ransom told,
+ The scales would want adjustment still.
+
+ "Life has its competence--nor deem
+ That better than enough were more;
+ Sure it were phantasy to dream
+ With burdens to assuage thy sore.
+
+ "It is the fancy's whirling strife
+ That breeds thy pain--to-day it craves,
+ To-morrow spurns--suffices life
+ When passion asks what passion braves?
+
+ "Should appetite her wish achieve,
+ To herd with brutes her joy would bound;
+ Pleased other paradise to leave,
+ Content to pasture on the ground.
+
+ "But pride rebels, nor towers alone
+ Beyond that confine's lowly sphere--
+ Seems as from the Eternal Throne
+ It aim'd the sceptre's self to tear.
+
+ "'Tis thus we trifle, thus we dare;
+ But, seek we to our bliss the way,
+ Let us to Heaven our path refer,
+ Believe, and worship, and obey.
+
+ "That choice is all--to range beyond
+ Nor must, nor needs; provision, grace,
+ In these He gives, who sits enthroned,
+ Salvation, competence, and peace."
+
+ The instructive vision pass'd away,
+ But not its wisdom's dreamless lore;
+ No more in shadow-tracks I stray,
+ And fondle shadow-shapes no more.
+
+
+[107] _Orig._--The venomous red spider.
+
+
+
+
+DUNCAN MACINTYRE.
+
+
+Duncan Macintyre (Donacha Ban) is considered by his countrymen the most
+extraordinary genius that the Highlands in modern times have produced.
+Without having learned a letter of any alphabet, he was enabled to pour
+forth melodies that charmed every ear to which they were intelligible.
+And he is understood to have had the published specimens of his poetry
+committed to writing by no mean judge of their merit,--the late Dr
+Stewart of Luss,--who, when a young man, became acquainted with this
+extraordinary person, in consequence of his being employed as a kind of
+under-keeper in a forest adjoining to the parish of which the Doctor's
+father was minister.
+
+Macintyre was born in Druimliart of Glenorchy on the 20th of March 1724,
+and died in October 1812. He was chiefly employed in the capacity of
+keeper in several of the Earl of Breadalbane's forests. He carried a
+musket, however, in his lordship's fencibles; which led him to take
+part, much against his inclination, in the Whig ranks at the battle of
+Falkirk. Later in life he transferred his musket to the Edinburgh City
+Guard.
+
+Macintyre's best compositions are those which are descriptive of forest
+scenes, and those which he dedicated to the praise of his wife. His
+verses are, however, very numerous, and embrace a vast variety of
+subjects. From the extraordinary diffusiveness of his descriptions, and
+the boundless luxuriance of his expressions, much difficulty has been
+experienced in reproducing his strains in the English idiom.
+
+
+
+
+MAIRI BHAN OG.
+
+MARY, THE YOUNG, THE FAIR-HAIR'D.
+
+
+ My young, my fair, my fair-hair'd Mary,
+ My life-time love, my own!
+ The vows I heard, when my kindest dearie
+ Was bound to me alone,
+ By covenant true, and ritual holy,
+ Gave happiness all but divine;
+ Nor needed there more to transport me wholly,
+ Than the friends that hail'd thee mine.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ 'Twas a Monday morn, and the way that parted
+ Was far, but I rivall'd the wind,
+ The troth to plight with a maiden true-hearted,
+ That force can never unbind.
+ I led her apart, and the hour that we reckon'd,
+ While I gain'd a love and a bride,
+ I heard my heart, and could tell each second,
+ As its pulses struck on my side.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ I told my ail to the foe that pain'd me,
+ And said that no salve could save;
+ She heard the tale, and her leech-craft it sain'd me,
+ For herself to my breast she gave.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ Forever, my dear, I 'll dearly adore thee
+ For chasing away, away,
+ My fancy's delusion, new loves ever choosing,
+ And teaching no more to stray.
+ I roam'd in the wood, many a tendril surveying,
+ All shapely from branch to stem,
+ My eye, as it look'd, its ambition betraying
+ To cull the fairest from them;
+ One branch of perfume, in blossom all over,
+ Bent lowly down to my hand,
+ And yielded its bloom, that hung high from each lover,
+ To me, the least of the band.
+ I went to the river, one net-cast I threw in,
+ Where the stream's transparence ran,
+ Forget shall I never, how the beauty[108] I drew in,
+ Shone bright as the gloss of the swan.
+ Oh, happy the day that crown'd my affection
+ With such a prize to my share!
+ My love is a ray, a morning reflection,
+ Beside me she sleeps, a star.
+
+
+[108] Gaelic, "gealag"--descriptive of the salmon, from its glossy
+brightness.
+
+
+
+
+BENDOURAIN, THE OTTER MOUNT.
+
+
+Bendourain is a forest scene in the wilds of Glenorchy. The poem, or
+lay, is descriptive, less of the forest, or its mountain fastnesses,
+than of the habits of the creatures that tenant the locality--the
+dun-deer, and the roe. So minutely enthusiastic is the hunter's
+treatment of his theme, that the attempt to win any favour for his
+performance from the Saxon reader, is attended with no small
+risk,--although it is possible that a little practice with the rifle in
+any similar wilderness may propitiate even the holiday sportsman
+somewhat in favour of the subject and its minute details. We must commit
+this forest minstrel to the good-nature of other readers, entreating
+them only to render due acknowledgment to the forbearance which has, in
+the meantime, troubled them only with the first half of the performance,
+and with a single stanza of the finale. The composition is always
+rehearsed or sung to pipe music, of which it is considered, by those who
+understand the original, a most extraordinary echo, besides being in
+other respects a very powerful specimen of Gaelic minstrelsy.
+
+
+ URLAR.
+
+ The noble Otter hill!
+ It is a chieftain Beinn,[109]
+ Ever the fairest still
+ Of all these eyes have seen.
+ Spacious is his side;
+ I love to range where hide,
+ In haunts by few espied,
+ The nurslings of his den.
+ In the bosky shade
+ Of the velvet glade,
+ Couch, in softness laid,
+ The nimble-footed deer;
+ To see the spotted pack,
+ That in scenting never slack,
+ Coursing on their track,
+ Is the prime of cheer.
+ Merry may the stag be,
+ The lad that so fairly
+ Flourishes the russet coat
+ That fits him so rarely.
+ 'Tis a mantle whose wear
+ Time shall not tear;
+ 'Tis a banner that ne'er
+ Sees its colours depart:
+ And when they seek his doom,
+ Let a man of action come,
+ A hunter in his bloom,
+ With rifle not untried:
+ A notch'd, firm fasten'd flint,
+ To strike a trusty dint,
+ And make the gun-lock glint
+ With a flash of pride.
+ Let the barrel be but true,
+ And the stock be trusty too,
+ So, Lightfoot,[110] though he flew,
+ Shall be purple-dyed.
+ He should not be novice bred,
+ But a marksman of first head,
+ By whom that stag is sped,
+ In hill-craft not unskill'd;
+ So, when Padraig of the glen
+ Call'd his hounds and men,
+ The hill spake back again,
+ As his orders shrill'd;
+ Then was firing snell,
+ And the bullets rain'd like hail,
+ And the red-deer fell
+ Like warrior on the field.
+
+
+ SIUBHAL.
+
+ Oh, the young doe so frisky,
+ So coy, and so fair,
+ That gambols so briskly,
+ And snuffs up the air;
+ And hurries, retiring,
+ To the rocks that environ,
+ When foemen are firing,
+ And bullets are there.
+ Though swift in her racing,
+ Like the kinsfolk before her,
+ No heart-burst, unbracing
+ Her strength, rushes o'er her.
+ 'Tis exquisite hearing
+ Her murmur, as, nearing,
+ Her mate comes careering,
+ Her pride, and her lover;--
+ He comes--and her breathing
+ Her rapture is telling;
+ How his antlers are wreathing,
+ His white haunch, how swelling!
+ High chief of Bendorain,
+ He seems, as adoring
+ His hind, he comes roaring
+ To visit her dwelling.
+ 'Twere endless my singing
+ How the mountain is teeming
+ With thousands, that bringing
+ Each a high chief's[111] proud seeming,
+ With his hind, and her gala
+ Of younglings, that follow
+ O'er mountain and beala,[112]
+ All lightsome are beaming.
+ When that lightfoot so airy,
+ Her race is pursuing,
+ Oh, what vision saw e'er a
+ Feat of flight like her doing?
+ She springs, and the spreading grass
+ Scarce feels her treading,
+ It were fleet foot that sped in
+ Twice the time that she flew in.
+ The gallant array!
+ How the marshes they spurn,
+ In the frisk of their play,
+ And the wheelings they turn,--
+ As the cloud of the mind
+ They would distance behind,
+ And give years to the wind,
+ In the pride of their scorn!
+ 'Tis the marrow of health
+ In the forest to lie,
+ Where, nooking in stealth,
+ They enjoy her[113] supply,--
+ Her fosterage breeding
+ A race never needing,
+ Save the milk of her feeding,
+ From a breast never dry.
+ Her hill-grass they suckle,
+ Her mammets[114] they swill,
+ And in wantonness chuckle
+ O'er tempest and chill;
+ With their ankles so light,
+ And their girdles[115] of white,
+ And their bodies so bright
+ With the drink of the rill.
+ Through the grassy glen sporting
+ In murmurless glee,
+ Nor snow-drift nor fortune
+ Shall urge them to flee,
+ Save to seek their repose
+ In the clefts of the knowes,
+ And the depths of the howes
+ Of their own Eas-an-ti.[116]
+
+
+ URLAR.
+
+ In the forest den, the deer
+ Makes, as best befits, his lair,
+ Where is plenty, and to spare,
+ Of her grassy feast.
+ There she browses free
+ On herbage of the lea,
+ Or marsh grass, daintily,
+ Until her haunch is greased.
+ Her drink is of the well,
+ Where the water-cresses swell,
+ Nor with the flowing shell
+ Is the toper better pleased.
+ The bent makes nobler cheer,
+ Or the rashes of the mere,
+ Than all the creagh that e'er
+ Gave surfeit to a guest.
+ Come, see her table spread;
+ The _sorach_[117] sweet display'd
+ The _ealvi_,[118] and the head
+ Of the daisy stem;
+ The _dorach_[119] crested, sleek,
+ And ringed with many a streak,
+ Presents her pastures meek,
+ Profusely by the stream.
+ Such the luxuries
+ That plump their noble size,
+ And the herd entice
+ To revel in the howes.
+ Nobler haunches never sat on
+ Pride of grease, than when they batten
+ On the forest links, and fatten
+ On the herbs of their carouse.
+ Oh, 'tis pleasant, in the gloaming,
+ When the supper-time
+ Calls all their hosts from roaming,
+ To see their social prime;
+ And when the shadows gather,
+ They lair on native heather,
+ Nor shelter from the weather
+ Need, but the knolls behind.
+ Dread or dark is none;
+ Their 's the mountain throne,
+ Height and slope their own,
+ The gentle mountain kind;
+ Pleasant is the grace
+ Of their hue, and dappled dress,
+ And an ark in their distress,
+ In Bendorain dear they find.
+
+
+ SIUBHAL.
+
+ So brilliant thy hue
+ With tendril and flow'ret,
+ The grace of the view,
+ What land can o'erpower it?
+ Thou mountain of beauty,
+ Methinks it might suit thee,
+ The homage of beauty
+ To claim as a queen.
+ What needs it? Adoring
+ Thy reign, we see pouring
+ The wealth of their store in
+ Already, I ween.
+ The seasons--scarce roll'd once,
+ Their gifts are twice told--
+ And the months, they unfold
+ On thy bosom their dower,
+ With profusion so rare,
+ Ne'er was clothing so fair,
+ Nor was jewelling e'er
+ Like the bud and the flower
+ Of the groves on thy breast,
+ Where rejoices to rest
+ His magnificent crest,
+ The mountain-cock, shrilling
+ In quick time, his note;
+ And the clans of the grot
+ With melody's note,
+ Their numbers are trilling.
+ No foot can compare,
+ In the dance of the green,
+ With the roebuck's young heir;
+ And here he is seen
+ With his deftness of speed,
+ And his sureness of tread,
+ And his bend of the head,
+ And his freedom of spring!
+ Over corrie careers he,
+ The wood-cover clears he,
+ And merrily steers he
+ With bound, and with fling,--
+ As he spurns from his stern
+ The heather and fern,
+ And dives in the dern[120]
+ Of the wilderness deep;
+ Or, anon, with a strain,
+ And a twang of each vein
+ He revels amain
+ 'Mid the cliffs of the steep.
+ With the burst of a start
+ When the flame of his heart
+ Impels to depart,
+ How he distances all!
+ Two bounds at a leap,
+ The brown hillocks to sweep,
+ His appointment to keep
+ With the doe, at her call.
+ With her following, the roe
+ From the danger of ken
+ Couches inly, and low,
+ In the haunts of the glen;
+ Ever watchful to hear,
+ Ever active to peer,
+ Ever deft to career,--
+ All ear, vision, and limb.
+ And though Cult[121] and Cuchullin,
+ With their horses and following,
+ Should rush to her dwelling,
+ And our prince[122] in his trim,
+ They might vainly aspire
+ Without rifle and fire
+ To ruffle or nigh her,
+ Her mantle to dim.
+ Stark-footed, lively,
+ Ever capering naively
+ With motion alive, aye,
+ And wax-white, in shine,
+ When her startle betrays
+ That the hounds are in chase,
+ The same as the base
+ Is the rocky decline--
+ She puffs from her chest,
+ And she ambles her crest
+ And disdain is express'd
+ In her nostril and eye;--
+ That eye--how it winks!
+ Like a sunbeam it blinks,
+ And it glows, and it sinks,
+ And is jealous and shy!
+ A mountaineer lynx,
+ Like her race that 's gone by.
+
+
+ CRUNLUATH (FINALE).
+
+ Her lodge is in the valley--here
+ No huntsman, void of notion,
+ Should hurry on the fallow deer,
+ But steal on her with caution;--
+ With wary step and watchfulness
+ To stalk her to her resting place,
+ Insures the gallant wight's success,
+ Before she is in motion.
+ The hunter bold should follow then,
+ By bog, and rock, and hollow, then,
+ And nestle in the gulley, then,
+ And watch with deep devotion
+ The shadows on the benty grass,
+ And how they come, and how they pass;
+ Nor must he stir, with gesture rash,
+ To quicken her emotion.
+ With nerve and eye so wary, sir,
+ That straight his piece may carry, sir,
+ He marks with care the quarry, sir,
+ The muzzle to repose on;
+ And now, the knuckle is applied,
+ The flint is struck, the priming tried,
+ Is fired, the volley has replied,
+ And reeks in high commotion;--
+ Was better powder ne'er to flint,
+ Nor trustier wadding of the lint--
+ And so we strike a telling dint,
+ Well done, my own Nic-Coisean![123]
+
+
+[109] Anglicised into _Ben_.
+
+[110] The deer.
+
+[111] Stag of the first head.
+
+[112] Pass.
+
+[113] Any one who has heard a native attempt the Lowland tongue for the
+first time, is familiar with the personification that turns every
+inanimate object into _he_ or _she_. The forest is here happily
+personified as a nurse or mother.
+
+[114] Bog-holes.
+
+[115] Stripings.
+
+[116] _Gaelic_--Easan-an-tsith.
+
+[117] Primrose.
+
+[118] St John's wort.
+
+[119] A kind of cress, or marshmallow.
+
+[120] _Anglice_--dark.
+
+[121] _Gaelic_--Caoillt; who, with Cuchullin, makes a figure in
+traditional Gaelic poetry.
+
+[122] _Gaelic_--King George.
+
+[123] Literally--"From the barrel of Nic-Coisean." This was the poet's
+favourite gun, to which his muse has addressed a separate song of
+considerable merit.
+
+
+
+
+THE BARD TO HIS MUSKET.[124]
+
+ Macintyre acted latterly as a constable of the City Guard of
+ Edinburgh, a situation procured him by the Earl of Breadalbane, at
+ his own special request; that benevolent nobleman having inquired
+ of the bard what he could do for him to render him independent in
+ his now advanced years. His salary as a peace-officer was sixpence
+ a-day; but the poet was so abundantly satisfied with the attainment
+ of his position and endowments, that he gave expression to his
+ feelings of satisfaction in a piece of minstrelsy, which in the
+ original ranks among his best productions. Of this ode we are
+ enabled to present a faithful metrical translation, quite in the
+ spirit of the original, as far as conversion of the Gaelic into the
+ Scottish idiom is practicable. The version was kindly undertaken at
+ our request by Mr William Sinclair, the ingenious author of "Poems
+ of the Fancy and the Affections," who has appropriately adapted it
+ to the lively tune, "Alister M'Alister." The song, remarks Mr
+ Sinclair, is much in the spirit, though in a more humorous strain,
+ of the famous Sword Song, beginning in the translation, "Come
+ forth, my glittering Bride," composed by Theodore Krner of
+ Dresden, and the last and most remarkable of his patriotic
+ productions, wherein the soldier addresses his sword as his bride,
+ thereby giving expression to the most glowing sentiments of
+ patriotism. Macintyre addresses as his wife the musket which he
+ carried as an officer of the guard; and is certainly as
+ enthusiastic in praise of his new acquisition, as ever was
+ love-sick swain in eulogy of the most attractive fair one.
+
+
+ Oh! mony a turn of woe and weal
+ May happen to a Highlan' man;
+ Though he fall in love he soon may feel
+ He cannot get the fancied one;
+ The first I loved in time that 's past,
+ I courted twenty years, ochone!
+ But she forsook me at the last,
+ And Duncan then was left alone.
+
+ To Edinbro' I forthwith hied
+ To seek a sweetheart to my mind,
+ An', if I could, to find a bride
+ For the fause love I left behind;
+ Said Captain Campbell of the Guard,
+ "I ken a widow secretly,
+ An' I 'll try, as she 's no that ill faur'd,
+ To put her, Duncan, in your way."
+
+ As was his wont, I trow, did he
+ Fulfil his welcome promise true,
+ He gave the widow unto me,
+ And all her portion with her too;
+ And whosoe'er may ask her name,
+ And her surname also may desire,
+ They call her Janet[125]--great her fame--
+ An' 'twas George who was her grandsire.
+
+ She 's quiet, an' affable, an' free,
+ No vexing gloom or look at hand,
+ As high in rank and in degree
+ As any lady in the land;
+ She 's my support and my relief,
+ Since e'er she join'd me, any how;
+ Great is the cureless cause of grief
+ To him who has not got her now!
+
+ Nic-Coisean[126] I 've forsaken quite,
+ Altho' she liveth still at ease--
+ An' allow the crested stags to fight
+ And wander wheresoe'er they please,
+ A young wife I have chosen now,
+ Which I repent not any where,
+ I am not wanting wealth, I trow,
+ Since ever I espoused the fair.
+
+ I pass my word of honour bright--
+ Most excellent I do her call;
+ In her I ne'er, in any light,
+ Discover'd any fault at all.
+ She is stately, fine, an' straight, an' sound,
+ Without a hidden fault, my friend;
+ In her, defect I never found,
+ Nor yet a blemish, twist, or bend.
+
+ When needy folk are pinch'd, alas!
+ For money in a great degree;
+ Ah, George's daughter--generous lass--
+ Ne'er lets my pockets empty be;
+ She keepeth me in drink, and stays
+ By me in ale-houses and all,
+ An' at once, without a word, she pays
+ For every stoup I choose to call!
+
+ An' every turn I bid her do
+ She does it with a willing grace;
+ She never tells me aught untrue,
+ Nor story false, with lying face;
+ She keeps my rising family
+ As well as I could e'er desire,
+ Although no labour I do try,
+ Nor dirty work for love or hire.
+
+ I labour'd once laboriously,
+ Although no riches I amass'd;
+ A menial I disdain'd to be,
+ An' keep my vow unto the last.
+ I have ceased to labour in the lan',
+ Since e'er I noticed to my wife,
+ That the idle and contented man
+ Endureth to the longest life.
+
+ 'Tis my musket--loving wife, indeed--
+ In whom I faithfully believe,
+ She 's able still to earn my bread,
+ An' Duncan she will ne'er deceive;
+ I 'll have no lack of linens fair,
+ An' plenty clothes to serve my turn,
+ An' trust me that all worldly care
+ Now gives me not the least concern.
+
+
+[124] The "Auld Town Guard" of Edinburgh, which existed before the
+Police Acts came into operation, was composed principally of
+Highlandmen, some of them old pensioners. Their rendezvous, or place of
+resort, was in the vicinity of old St Giles's Church, where they might
+generally be found smoking, snuffing, and speaking in the true Highland
+vernacular. Archie Campbell, celebrated by Macintyre as "Captain
+Campbell," was the last, and a favourable specimen of this class of
+civic functionaries. He was a stout, tall man; and, dressed in his "knee
+breeks and buckles, wi' the red-necked coat, and the cocked hat," he
+considered himself of no ordinary importance. He had a most thorough
+contempt for grammar, and looked upon the Lord Provost as the greatest
+functionary in the world. He delighted to be called "the Provost's
+right-hand man." Archie is still well remembered by many of the
+inhabitants of Edinburgh, as he was quite a character in the city. In
+dealing with a prisoner, Archie used to impress him with the idea that
+he could do great things for him by merely speaking to "his honour the
+Provost;" and when locking a prisoner up in the Tolbooth, he would say
+sometimes--"There, my lad, I cannot do nothing more for you!" He took
+care to give his friends from the Highlands a magnificent notion of his
+great personal consequence, which, of course, they aggrandised when they
+returned to the hills.
+
+[125] A byeword for a regimental firelock.
+
+[126] A favourite fowling-piece, alluded to in Bendourain, and
+elsewhere.
+
+
+
+
+JOHN MACODRUM.
+
+
+Jan Macodrum, the Bard of Uist, was patronised by an eminent judge of
+merit, Sir James Macdonald of Skye,--of whom, after a distinguished
+career at Oxford, such expectations were formed, that on his premature
+death at Rome he was lamented as the Marcellus of Scotland.
+
+Macodrum's name is cited in the Ossianic controversy, upon Sir James's
+report, as a person whose mind was stored with Ossianic poetry, of which
+Macpherson gave to the world the far-famed specimens. A humorous story
+is told of Macodrum (who was a noted humorist) having trifled a little
+with the translator when he applied for a sample of the old Fingalian,
+in the words, "Hast thou got anything of, or on, (equivalent in Gaelic
+to _hast thou anything to get of_) the Fingalian heroes?" "If I have,"
+quoth Macodrum, "I fear it is now irrecoverable."
+
+Macodrum, whose real patronymic is understood to have been Macdonald,
+lived to lament his patron in elegiac strains--a fact that brings the
+time in which he flourished down to 1766.
+
+His poem entitled the "Song of Age," is admired by his countrymen for
+its rapid succession of images (a little too mixed or abrupt on some
+occasions), its descriptive power, and its neatness and flow of
+versification.
+
+
+
+
+ORAN NA H-AOIS,
+
+THE SONG OF AGE.
+
+
+ Should my numbers essay to enliven a lay,
+ The notes would betray the languor of woe;
+ My heart is o'erthrown, like the rush of the stone
+ That, unfix'd from its throne, seeks the valley below.
+ The _veteran of war_, that knows not to spare,
+ And offers us ne'er the respite of peace,
+ Resistless comes on, and we yield with a groan,
+ For under the sun is no hope of release.
+ 'Tis a sadness I ween, how the glow and the sheen
+ Of the rosiest mien from their glory subside;
+ How hurries the hour on our race, that shall lower
+ The arm of our power, and the step of our pride.
+ As scatter and fail, on the wing of the gale,
+ The mist of the vale, and the cloud of the sky,
+ So, dissolving our bliss, comes the hour of distress,
+ Old age, with that face of aversion to joy.
+ Oh! heavy of head, and silent as lead,
+ And unbreathed as the dead, is the person of Age;
+ Not a joint, not a nerve--so prostrate their verve--
+ In the contest shall serve, or the feat to engage.
+ To leap with the best, or the billow to breast,
+ Or the race prize to wrest, were but effort in vain;
+ On the message of death pours an Egypt of wrath,[127]
+ The fever's hot breath, the dart-shot of pain.
+ Ah, desolate eld! the wretch that is held
+ By thy grapple, must yield thee his dearest supplies;
+ The friends of our love at thy call must remove,--
+ What boots how they strove from thy bands to arise?
+ They leave us, deplore as it wills us,--our store,
+ Our strength at the core, and our vigour of mind;
+ Remembrance forsakes us, distraction o'ertakes us,
+ Every love that awakes us, we leave it behind.
+ Thou spoiler of grace, that changest the face
+ To hasten its race on the route to the tomb,
+ To whom nothing is dear, unaffection'd the ear,
+ Emotion is sere, and expression is dumb;
+ Of spirit how void, thy passions how cloy'd,
+ Thy pith how destroy'd, and thy pleasure how gone!
+ To the pang of thy cries not an echo replies,
+ Even sympathy dies--and thy helper is none.
+ We see thee how stripp'd of each bloom that equipp'd
+ Thy flourish, till nipp'd the winter thy rose;
+ Till the spoiler made bare the scalp of the hair,
+ And the ivory[128] tare from its sockets' repose.
+ Thy skinny, thy cold, thy visageless mould,
+ Its disgust is untold, and its surface is dim;
+ What a signal of wrack is the wrinkle's dull track,
+ And the bend of the back, and the limp of the limb!
+ Thou leper of fear--thou niggard of cheer--
+ Where glory is dear, shall thy welcome be found?
+ Thou contempt of the brave--oh, rather the grave,
+ Than to pine as the slave that thy fetters have bound.
+ Like the dusk of the day is thy colour of gray,
+ Thou foe of the lay, and thou phantom of gloom;
+ Thou bane of delight--when thy shivering plight,
+ And thy grizzle of white,[129] and thy crippleness, come
+ To beg at the door; ah, woe for the poor,
+ And the greeting unsure that grudges their bread;
+ All unwelcome they call--from the hut to the hall
+ The confession of all is, "_'Tis time he were dead_!"
+
+The picturesque portion of the description here terminates. With respect
+to the moral and religious application, it is but just to the poet to
+say, that before the close he appeals in pathetic terms to the young,
+warning them not to boast of their strength, or to abuse it; and that he
+concludes his lay with the sentiment, that whatever may be the ills of
+"age," there are worse that await an unrepenting death, and a suffering
+eternity.
+
+
+[127] Alluding to the plagues.
+
+[128] The teeth.
+
+[129] _Gaelic_--Matted, rough, gray beard.
+
+
+
+
+NORMAN MACLEOD;
+
+OR, TORMAID BAN.
+
+
+Single-speech Hamilton may be said to have had his _marrow_ in a
+Highland bard, nearly his contemporary, whose one effort was attended
+with more lasting popularity than the sole oration of that celebrated
+person. The clan song of the Mackenzies is the composition in question,
+and its author is now ascertained to have been a gentleman, or farmer of
+the better class, of the name of Norman Macleod, a native of Assynt[130]
+in Sutherland. The most memorable particular known of this person,
+besides the production of his poetic effort, is his having been the
+father of a Glasgow professor,[131] whom we remember occupying the chair
+of Church History in the university in very advanced age, about 1814,
+assisted by a helper and successor; and of another son, who was the
+respected minister of Rogart till towards the end of last century.
+
+The date of "Caberfae" is not exactly ascertained. It was composed
+during the exile of Lord Seaforth, but, we imagine, before the '45, in
+which he did not take part, and while Macshimei (Lord Lovat) still
+passed for a Whig. In Mackenzie's excellent collection (p. 361), a
+later date is assigned to the production.
+
+The Seaforth tenantry, who (after the manner of the clans) privately
+supported their chief in his exile, appear to have been much aggrieved
+by some proceedings of the loyalist, Monro of Fowlis, who, along with
+his neighbour of Culloden and Lovat, were probably acting under
+government commission, in which the interests of the crown were seconded
+by personal or family antagonism. The loyal family of Sutherland, who
+seem by grant or lease to have had an interest in the estates, also come
+in for a share of the bard's resentment.
+
+All this forms the subject of "Caberfae," which, without having much
+meaning or poetry, served, like the celebrated "Lillibulero," to animate
+armies, and inflame party spirit to a degree that can scarcely be
+imagined. The repetition of "the Staghead, when rises his cabar on,"
+which concludes every strophe, is enough at any time to bring a
+Mackenzie to his feet, or into the forefront of battle,--being a simple
+allusion to the Mackenzie crest, allegorised into an emblem of the stag
+at bay, or ready in his ire to push at his assailant. The cabar is the
+horn, or, rather, the "tine of the first-head,"--no ignoble emblem,
+certainly, of clannish fury and impetuosity. The difficulty of the
+measure compels us to the use of certain metrical freedoms, and also of
+some Gaelic words, for which is craved the reader's indulgence.
+
+
+[130] In Stat. Ac. said to be of Lochbroom, vol. xiv., p. 79.
+
+[131] Hugh Macleod.
+
+
+
+
+CABERFAE,
+
+THE STAGHEAD.[132]
+
+
+ A health to Caberfae,
+ A toast, and a cheery one,
+ That soon return he may,
+ Though long and far his tarrying.
+ The death of shame befal me,
+ Be riven off my eididh[133] too,
+ But my fancy hears thy call--we
+ Should all be _up and ready, O_!
+ 'Tis I have seen thy weapon keen,
+ Thine arm, inaction scorning,
+ Assign their dues to the Munroes,
+ Their _welcome_ in the morning.
+ Nor stood the Ctach[134] to his bratach[135]
+ For dread of a belabouring,
+ When up gets the Staghead,
+ And raises his cabar on.
+
+ Woe to the man of Folais,[136]
+ When he to fight must challenge thee;
+ Nor better fared the Roses[137]
+ That lent _Monro_ their valiancy.
+ The Granndach[138] and the Frazer,[139]
+ They tarried not the melee in;
+ Fled Forbes,[140] in dismay, sir,
+ Culloden-wards, undallying.
+ Away they ran, while firm remain,
+ Not one to three, retiring so,
+ The earl,[141] the craven, took to haven,
+ Scarce a pistol firing, O!
+ Mackay[142] of Spoils, his heart recoils,
+ He cries in haste his cabul[143] on,
+ He flies--as soars the Staghead,
+ And raises his cabar on.
+
+ Like feather'd creatures flying,
+ That in the hill-mist shiver,
+ In haste for refuge hieing,
+ To the meadow or the river--
+ So, port they sought, and took to boat,
+ Bewailing what had happened them,
+ To trust was rash, the missing flash
+ Of the rusty guns that weapon'd them.
+ The coracle of many a skull,
+ The relics of his neighbour, on,
+ Monro retreats[144]--for Staghead
+ Is raising his cabar on.
+
+ I own my expectation,--
+ 'Tis this has roused my apathy,
+ That He who rules creation
+ May change the dismal hap of thee,
+ And hasten to restore thee
+ In safety from thy danger,
+ To thine own, in joy and glory,
+ To save us from the stranger.
+ With princely grace to give redress,
+ Nor a taunt to suffer back again;
+ The fell Monro has felt thy blow,
+ And should he dare attack again,
+ Then as he flew, he 'll run anew,
+ The flames to quench he 'll labour on,
+ Of castle fired--when Staghead
+ High raises his cabar on!
+
+ I 've seen thee o'er the lowly,
+ A gracious chieftain ever,
+ The Ctach[145] self below thee,
+ And the Gallach[145] cower'd for cover;
+ But ever more their striving,
+ When claim'd respect thine eye,
+ Thy scourge corrected, driving
+ To other lands to fly.
+ Thy loyal crew of clansmen true,
+ No panic fear shall turn them,
+ With steel-cap, blade, and _skene_ array'd,
+ Their banning foes they spurn them.
+ Clan-Shimei[146] then may dare them,
+ They 'll fly, had each a sabre on,
+ Needs but a look--when Staghead
+ Once raises his cabar on.
+
+ Mounts not the wing a fouler thing,
+ Than thy vaunted crest, the eagle,[147] O!
+ Inglorious chief! to boast the thief,
+ That forays with the beagle, O!
+ For shame! preferr'd that ravening bird![148]
+ My song shall raise the mountain-deer;
+ The prey he scorns, the carcase spurns,
+ He loves the cress, the fountain cheer.
+ His lodge is in the forest;--
+ While carion-flesh enticing
+ Thy greedy maw, thou buriest
+ Thou kite of prey! thy claws in
+ The putrid corse of famish'd horse,
+ The greedy hound a-striving
+ To rival thee in gluttony,
+ Both at the bowels riving.
+ Thou called the _true bird_![149]--Never,
+ Thou foster child of evil,[150] ha!
+ How ill match with thy feather[151]
+ The talons[152] of thy devilry!
+ But when thy foray preys on
+ Our harmless flocks, so dastardly,
+ How often has the shepherd
+ With trusty baton master'd thee;
+ Well in thy fright hast timed thy flight,
+ Else, not alone, belabouring,
+ He 'd gored thee with the Staghead,
+ Up-raising his cabar on.[153]
+
+ Woe worth the world, deceiver--
+ So false, so fair of seeming!
+ We 've seen the noble Siphort[154]
+ With all his war-notes[155] screaming;
+ When not a chief in Albain,
+ Mac-Ailein's[156] self though backing him,
+ Could face his frown--as Staghead
+ Arose with his cabar on.
+
+ To join thy might, when call'd the right,
+ A gallant army springing on,
+ Would rise, from Assint to the crags
+ Of Scalpa, rescue bringing on.
+ Each man upon, true-flinted gun,
+ Steel glaive, and trusty dagaichean;
+ With the Island Lord of Sleit,[157]
+ When up rose thy cabar on!
+
+ Came too the men of Muideart,[158]
+ While stream'd their flag its bravery;
+ Their gleaming weapons, blue-dyed,[159]
+ That havock'd on the cavalry.
+ Macalister,[160] Mackinnon,
+ With many a flashing trigger there,
+ The foemen rushing in on,
+ Resistless shew'd their vigour there.
+ May fortune free thee--may we see thee
+ Again in Brun,[161] the turreted,
+ Girt with thy clan! And not a man
+ But will get the scorn he merited.
+ Then wine will play, and usquebae
+ From flaggons, and from badalan,[162]
+ And pipers scream--when Staghead
+ High raises his cabar on.
+
+
+[132] Applicable both to the chief and his crest.
+
+[133] Literally, "_the dress_," (pron. _eidi_,) _i.e._, Highland garb,
+not yet abolished.
+
+[134] Sutherlanders, or Caithness men.
+
+[135] Banner.
+
+[136] Monro of Fowlis.
+
+[137] Rose of Kilravock and his clan.
+
+[138] Grant of Grant.
+
+[139] Lovat.
+
+[140] Of Culloden.
+
+[141] Of Sutherland.
+
+[142] Lord Reay.
+
+[143] Steed. The Celtic "Cabul" and Latin "Caballus" correspond.
+
+[144] Here the bard is a little obscure; but he seems to mean that the
+Monroes made their escape over the skulls of the dead, as if they were
+boats or coracles by which to cross or get away from danger.
+
+[145] The Caithness and Sutherland men.
+
+[146] Lovat's men.
+
+[147] The eagle being the crest of the Monro.
+
+[148] The _eagle_; the crest of Monro of Fowlis. The filthy and cruel
+habits of this predatory bird are here contrasted with the
+forest-manners of the stag in a singular specimen of clan vituperation.
+
+[149] _Fioreun_, the name of the eagle, signifying true bird.
+
+[150] Literally--Accursed by Moses, or the Mosaic law.
+
+[151] The single eagle's feather crested the chieftain's bonnet.
+
+[152] Literally--If thy feather is noble, thy claws are (of) the devil!
+
+[153] This picture of the eagle is not much for edification--nor another
+hit at the lion of the Macdonalds, then at feud with the Seaforth. The
+former is abridged, and the latter omitted; as also a lively detail of
+the _creagh_, in which the Monroes are reproached with their spoilages
+of cheese, butter, and winter-mart beef.
+
+[154] Seaforth.
+
+[155] Literally--Bagpipes.
+
+[156] Macallammore: Argyle.
+
+[157] Macdonald of Sleat.
+
+[158] Clanranald's country.
+
+[159] Literally--Of blue steel.
+
+[160] Mac-Mhic-Alister, the patronymic of Glengary.
+
+[161] Castle Brahan, Seaforth's seat.
+
+[162] _Gaelic_--Barrels of liquor, properly _bidealan_.
+
+
+END OF VOL. I.
+
+
+
+
+GLOSSARY.
+
+
+_A-low_, on fire.
+
+_Ava_, at all.
+
+_Ayont_, beyond.
+
+_Ban_, swear.
+
+_Bang_, to change place hastily.
+
+_Bangster_, a violent person.
+
+_Bawks_, the cross-beams of a roof.
+
+_Bein_, good, suitable.
+
+_Bicker_, a dish for holding liquor.
+
+_Boddle_, an old Scottish coin--value the third of a penny.
+
+_Boggie_, a marsh.
+
+_Brag_, vaunt.
+
+_Braw_, gaily dressed.
+
+_Busk_, to attire oneself.
+
+_Buss_, bush.
+
+_Cantie_, cheerful.
+
+_Castocks_, the pith of stalks of cabbages.
+
+_Caw_, to drive.
+
+_Chat_, talk.
+
+_Chuckies_, chickens.
+
+_Chuffy_, clownish.
+
+_Clavering_, talking idly.
+
+_Cleeding_, clothing.
+
+_Clishmaclavers_, idle talk.
+
+_Clocksie_, vivacious.
+
+_Cock-up_, a hat or cap turned up before.
+
+_Coft_, purchased.
+
+_Cogie_, a hollow wooden vessel.
+
+_Coozy_, warm.
+
+_Cosie_, snug, comfortable.
+
+_Cowt_, cattle.
+
+_Creel_, a basket.
+
+_Croft_, a tenement of land.
+
+_Croon_, to make a plaintive sound.
+
+_Crouse_, brisk.
+
+_Crusie_, a small lamp.
+
+_Cuddle_, embrace.
+
+_Curpin_, the crupper of a saddle.
+
+_Cuttie_, a short pipe.
+
+_Daff_, sport.
+
+_Daut_, caress.
+
+_Daud_, blow.
+
+_Daunder_, to walk thoughtlessly.
+
+_Dautit_, fondled.
+
+_Dirdum_, tumult.
+
+_Disjasket_, having appearance of decay.
+
+_Doited_, stupid.
+
+_Dool_, grief.
+
+_Dorty_, a foolish urchin.
+
+_Douf_, dull.
+
+_Dowie_, sad.
+
+_Draigle_, draggle.
+
+_Dringing_, delaying.
+
+_Drone_, sound of bagpipes.
+
+_Dung_, defeated.
+
+_Eerie_, timorous.
+
+_Eident_, wary.
+
+_Elf_, a puny creature.
+
+_Fashious_, troublesome.
+
+_Fauld_, a fold.
+
+_Ferlies_, remarkable things.
+
+_Fleyt_, frightened.
+
+_Fogie_, a stupid old person.
+
+_Foumart_, a pole-cat.
+
+_Fraise_, flattery.
+
+_Frumpish_, crumpled.
+
+_Gabbit_, a person prone to idle talk.
+
+_Gart_, compelled.
+
+_Giggle_, unmeaning laughter.
+
+_Gin_, if.
+
+_Girse_, grass.
+
+_Glaikit_, stupid.
+
+_Glamrie_, the power of enchantment.
+
+_Glower_, stare.
+
+_Grusome_, frightful.
+
+_Grist_, the fee paid at the mill for grinding.
+
+_Gutchir_, grandfather.
+
+_Gutters_, mud, wet dust.
+
+_Hain_, save, preserve.
+
+_Hap_, cover.
+
+_Havens_, endowments.
+
+_Henny_, honey, a familiar term of affection among the peasantry.
+
+_Hinkum_, that which is put up in hanks or balls, as thread.
+
+_Howe_, a hollow.
+
+_Hyne_, hence.
+
+_Kail_, cabbages, colewort.
+
+_Kebbuck_, a cheese.
+
+_Keil_, red clay, used for marking.
+
+_Ken_, know.
+
+_Kenspeckle_, having a singular appearance.
+
+_Leal_, honest, faithful.
+
+_Leese me_, pleased am I with.
+
+_Lyart_, gray-haired.
+
+_Loof_, the palm of the hand.
+
+_Lowin_, warm.
+
+_Lucky, A_, an old woman.
+
+_Luntin_, smoking.
+
+_Mailin_, a farm.
+
+_Maukin_, a hare.
+
+_Mirk_, dark.
+
+_Mishanter_, a sorry scrape.
+
+_Mittens_, gloves without fingers.
+
+_Mouldie_, crumbling.
+
+_Mouls_, the earth of the grave.
+
+_Mows_, easy.
+
+_Mutch_, a woman's cap.
+
+_Neip_, a turnip.
+
+_Neive_, the closed fist.
+
+_Nippen_, carried off surreptitiously.
+
+_Ouk_, week.
+
+_Owerlay_, a cravat.
+
+_Perk_, push.
+
+_Perlins_, women's ornaments.
+
+_Poortith_, poverty.
+
+_Preed_, tasted.
+
+_Randy_, a scold, a shrew.
+
+_Rate_, slander.
+
+_Rink_, run about.
+
+_Routh_, abundance.
+
+_Rummulgumshin_, common sense.
+
+_Sabbit_, sobbed.
+
+_Scant_, scarce.
+
+_Scartle_, a graip or fork.
+
+_Scrimply_, barely.
+
+_Scug_, shelter.
+
+_Seer_, sure.
+
+_Shaw_, a plantation.
+
+_Shiel_, a sheep shed.
+
+_Skeigh_, timorous.
+
+_Skiffin_, moving lightly.
+
+_Smeddum_, sagacity.
+
+_Snooded_, the hair bound up.
+
+_Spaewife,_ a female fortune-teller.
+
+_Spence_, a larder.
+
+_Steenies_, guineas.
+
+_Sud_, should.
+
+_Sumph_, a soft person.
+
+_Swankie_, a clever young fellow.
+
+_Sweir_, indolent.
+
+_Syne_, then.
+
+_Tabbit_, benumbed.
+
+_Tapsle-teerie_, topsyturvy.
+
+_Ted_, toad.
+
+_Thairms_, strings.
+
+_Thowless_, thoughtless.
+
+_Thraw_, twist.
+
+_Tint_, lost.
+
+_Tirl_, to uncover.
+
+_Tocher_, dowry.
+
+_Toss_, toast.
+
+_Towmond_, a year.
+
+_Trig_, neat, trim.
+
+_Tryst_, appointment.
+
+_Tyced_, made diversion.
+
+_Vauntit_, boasted.
+
+_Weel_, will.
+
+_Whigmigmorum_, political ranting.
+
+_Wile_, choice.
+
+_Wist_, wished.
+
+_Wizen_, the throat.
+
+_Wow_, vow.
+
+
+EDINBURGH: PRINTED BY BALLANTYNE AND COMPANY.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Modern Scottish Minstrel , Volume
+I., by Various
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+<pre>
+
+Project Gutenberg's The Modern Scottish Minstrel , Volume I., by Various
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Modern Scottish Minstrel , Volume I.
+ The Songs of Scotland of the past half century
+
+Author: Various
+
+Editor: Charles Rogers
+
+Release Date: May 15, 2006 [EBook #18396]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MODERN SCOTTISH MINSTREL ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Ted Garvin, Susan Skinner and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;">
+<img src="images/titlepage.jpg" width="600" height="999" alt="THE
+MODERN SCOTTISH MINSTREL;
+BY
+CHARLES ROGERS, LL.D.
+F.S.A. SCOT.
+VOL. I.
+
+THE AULD HOUSE O' GASK.
+_THE BIRTH PLACE OF LADY NAIRN._
+_(Copied by permission of Patterson &amp; Sons)_
+
+EDINBURGH:
+ADAM &amp; CHARLES BLACK, NORTH BRIDGE,
+BOOKSELLERS AND PUBLISHERS TO THE QUEEN." title="" />
+</div>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;">
+<img src="images/frontispiece.jpg" width="600" height="760" alt="SIR WALTER SCOTT BART." title="" />
+<span class="caption">SIR WALTER SCOTT BAR<sup style="font-size: 75%;">T</sup>.<br /><br />
+Lithographed for the Modern Scottish Minstrel, by Schenck &amp; M<sup style="font-size: 75%;">c</sup>Farlane.</span>
+</div>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<h1><span style="font-size: 50%;">THE</span><br />
+<br />
+MODERN SCOTTISH MINSTREL;<br />
+<br />
+<span style="font-size: 50%;">OR,</span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="font-size: 80%;">THE SONGS OF SCOTLAND OF THE
+PAST HALF CENTURY.</span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="font-size: 50%;">WITH</span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="font-size: 75%;">Memoirs of the Poets,</span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="font-size: 50%;">AND</span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="font-size: 75%;">SKETCHES AND SPECIMENS<br />
+IN ENGLISH VERSE OF THE MOST CELEBRATED<br />
+MODERN GAELIC BARDS.</span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="font-size: 50%;">BY</span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="font-size: 75%;">CHARLES ROGERS, LL.D.</span><br />
+<span style="font-size: 50%;">F.S.A. SCOT.</span></h1>
+
+<p class='center' style="font-size: large;">IN SIX VOLUMES;</p>
+
+<p class='center' style="font-size: large;">VOL. I.</p>
+
+
+<p class='center'>EDINBURGH:<br />
+<br />
+ADAM &amp; CHARLES BLACK, NORTH BRIDGE,<br />
+BOOKSELLERS AND PUBLISHERS TO HER MAJESTY.<br />
+<br />
+M.DCCC.LV.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_ii" id="Page_ii">[Pg ii]</a></span></p>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p class='center'>EDINBURGH:<br />
+PRINTED BY BALLANTYNE AND COMPANY,<br />
+PAUL'S WORK.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_iii" id="Page_iii">[Pg iii]</a></span></p>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p class='center'>TO</p>
+
+<p class='center'><span style="font-size: large;">WILLIAM STIRLING, ESQ. OF KEIR, M.P.,</span></p>
+
+<p class='center'>AN ENLIGHTENED SENATOR, AN ACCOMPLISHED SCHOLAR, AND
+AN INGENIOUS POET,</p>
+
+<p class='center'><span style="font-size: large;">THIS FIRST VOLUME</span></p>
+
+<p class='center'>OF</p>
+
+<p class='center'><span style="font-size: large;">The Modern Scottish Minstrel</span></p>
+
+<p class='center'>IS,</p>
+
+<p class='center'>WITH HIS KIND PERMISSION, MOST RESPECTFULLY INSCRIBED,</p>
+
+<p class='center'>BY</p>
+
+<p class='center'>HIS VERY OBEDIENT, FAITHFUL SERVANT,</p>
+
+<p class='center'><span style="font-size: large;">CHARLES ROGERS.</span></p>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_iv" id="Page_iv">[Pg iv]</a></span></p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_v" id="Page_v">[Pg v]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="PREFACE" id="PREFACE"></a>PREFACE.</h2>
+
+
+<p>Scotland has probably produced a more patriotic and
+more extended minstrelsy than any other country in the
+world. Those Caledonian harp-strains, styled by Sir
+Walter Scott "gems of our own mountains," have frequently
+been gathered into caskets of national song,
+but have never been stored in any complete cabinet;
+while no attempt has been made, at least on an ample
+scale, to adapt, by means of suitable metrical translations,
+the minstrelsy of the Ga&euml;l for Lowland melody.
+The present work has been undertaken with the view of
+supplying these deficiencies, and with the further design
+of extending the fame of those cultivators of Scottish
+song&mdash;hitherto partially obscured by untoward
+circumstances, or on account of their own diffidence&mdash;and
+of affording a stimulus towards the future cultivation
+of national poetry.</p>
+
+<p>The plan of the work is distinct from that of every
+previous collection of Scottish song&mdash;the more esteemed
+lyrical compositions of the various bards being printed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_vi" id="Page_vi">[Pg vi]</a></span>
+along with the memoirs of the respective authors, while
+the names of the poets have been arranged in chronological
+order. Those have been considered as <i>modern</i>
+whose lives extend into the past half-century; and the
+whole of these have consequently been included in the
+work. Several Highland bards who died a short
+period before the commencement of the century have,
+however, been introduced. Of all the Scottish poets,
+whether lyrical or otherwise, who survived the period
+indicated, biographical sketches will be supplied in the
+course of the publication, together with memoirs of the
+principal modern collectors, composers and vocalists.
+The memoirs, so far as is practicable, will be prepared
+from original materials, of which the Editor, after a
+very extensive correspondence, has obtained a supply
+more ample and more interesting than, he flatters himself,
+has ever been attained by any collector of northern
+minstrelsy. The work will extend to six volumes,
+each of the subsequent volumes being accompanied by
+a dissertation on a distinct department of Scottish
+poetry and song. Each volume will be illustrated with
+two elegant engravings. In the course of the work,
+many original compositions will be presented, recovered
+from the MSS. of the deceased poets, or contributed by
+distinguished living bards.</p>
+
+<p>For the department of the "Modern Gaelic Minstrelsy,"
+the Editor has obtained the assistance of a
+learned friend, intimately familiar with the language
+and poetry of the Highlands. To this esteemed co-<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_vii" id="Page_vii">[Pg vii]</a></span>adjutor
+the reader is indebted for the revisal of the
+Gaelic department of this work, as well as for the
+following prefatory observations on the subject:&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>"Among the intelligent natives of the Highlands, it is well
+known that the Gaelic language contains a quantity of poetry,
+which, how difficult soever to transfuse into other tongues and
+idioms, never fails to touch the heart, and excite enthusiastic
+feelings. The plan of 'The Modern Scottish Minstrel' restricts
+us to a period less favourable to the inspirations of the Celtic
+muse than remoter times. If it is asked, What could be gained
+by recurring to a more distant period? or what this unlettered
+people have really to shew for their bardic pretensions? we
+answer, that there is extant a large and genuine collection of
+Highland minstrelsy, ranging over a long exciting period, from
+the days of Harlaw to the expedition of Charles Edward. The
+'Prosnachadh Catha,' or battle-song, that led on the raid of
+Donald the Islander on the Garioch, is still sung; the 'Woes of
+the Children of the Mist' are yet rehearsed in the ears of their
+children in the most plaintive measures. Innerlochy and Killiecrankie
+have their appropriate melodies; Glencoe has its dirge;
+both the exiled Jameses have their p&aelig;an and their lament; Charles
+Edward his welcome and his wail;&mdash;all in strains so varied, and
+with imagery so copious, that their repetition is continually called
+for, and their interest untiring.</p>
+
+<p>"All that we have to offer belongs to recent times; but we
+cannot aver that the merit of the verses is inferior. The interest
+of the subjects is certainly immeasurably less; but, perhaps, not
+less propitious to the lilts and the luinneags, in which, as in her
+music and imitative dancing, the Highland border has found her
+best Lowland acceptation.</p>
+
+<p>"We are not aware that we need except any piece, out of the
+more ancient class, that seems not to admit of being rivalled by
+some of the compositions of Duncan Ban (Macintyre), Rob Donn,
+and a few others that come into our own series, if we exclude the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_viii" id="Page_viii">[Pg viii]</a></span>
+pathetic 'Old Bard's Wish,' 'The Song of the Owl,' and, perhaps,
+Ian Lom's 'Innerlochy.'</p>
+
+<p>"But, while this may be so far satisfactory to our readers, we
+are under the necessity of claiming their charitable forbearance
+for the strangers of the mountain whom we are to introduce to
+their acquaintance. The language, and, in some respects, the
+imagery and versification, are as foreign to the usages of the
+Anglo-Saxon as so many samples of Orientalism. The transfusion
+of the Greek and Latin choral metres is a light effort to the
+difficulty of imitating the rhythm, or representing the peculiar
+vein of these song-enamoured mountaineers. Those who know
+how a favourite ode of Horace, or a lay of Catullus, is made to
+look, except in mere paraphrase, must not talk of the poorness
+or triteness of the Highlander's verses, till they are enabled to do
+them justice by a knowledge of the language. We disdain any
+attempt to make those bards sing in the mere English taste, even
+if we could so translate them as to make them speak or sing
+better than they do. The fear of his sarcasms prevented Dr
+Johnson from hearing one literal version during his whole
+sojourn in the Highlands. Sir Walter Scott wished that somebody
+might have the manliness to recover Highland poetry
+from the mystification of paraphrase or imposture, and to present
+it genuine to the English reader. In that spirit we promise to
+execute our task; and we shall rejoice if even a very moderate
+degree of success should attend our endeavours to obtain for the
+sister muse some share of that popularity to which we believe
+her entitled."</p></div>
+
+<p>In respect of the present volume of "The Modern
+Scottish Minstrel," the Editor has to congratulate himself
+on his being enabled to present, for the first time in
+a popular form, the more esteemed lays of Carolina,
+Baroness Nairn, author of "The Laird o' Cockpen,"
+"The Land o' the Leal," and a greater number of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_ix" id="Page_ix">[Pg ix]</a></span>
+popular lyrics than any other Caledonian bard, Burns
+alone excepted. Several pieces of this accomplished
+lady, not previously published, have been introduced,
+through the kindness of her surviving friends. The
+memoir of the Baroness has been prepared from original
+documents entrusted to the Editor. For permission to
+engrave "The Auld House o' Gask," Lady Nairn's
+birth-place, the Editor's thanks are due to Mr Paterson,
+music-seller in Edinburgh.</p>
+
+<p>While the present volume of "The Modern Scottish
+Minstrel" is offered to the public with becoming diffidence,
+the Editor is not without a faint ray of hope that,
+if health and sufficient leisure are afforded him, the
+present publication may be found the most ample and
+satisfactory repository of national song which has at any
+period been offered to the public.</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;" class="smcap">Argyle House, Stirling,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 4em;"><i>April 18, 1855.</i></span><br />
+</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CONTENTS" id="CONTENTS"></a>CONTENTS.</h2>
+
+<ul class='TOC'>
+<li><a href="#JOHN_SKINNER">JOHN SKINNER,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_1">1</a></span></li>
+<li><ul class='TOCSub'><li> <a href="#TULLOCHGORUM">Tullochgorum,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_11">11</a></span></li>
+<li> <a href="#JOHN_O_BADENYON">John o' Badenyon,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_13">13</a></span></li>
+<li> <a href="#THE_EWIE_WI_THE_CROOKIT_HORN">The ewie wi' the crookit horn,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_17">17</a></span></li>
+<li> <a href="#O_WHY_SHOULD_OLD_AGE_SO_MUCH">O! why should old age so much wound us?</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_20">20</a></span></li>
+<li> <a href="#STILL_IN_THE_WRONG">Still in the wrong,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_22">22</a></span></li>
+<li> <a href="#LIZZY_LIBERTY">Lizzy Liberty,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_24">24</a></span></li>
+<li> <a href="#THE_STIPENDLESS_PARSON">The stipendless parson,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_28">28</a></span></li>
+<li> <a href="#THE_MAN_OF_ROSS">The man of Ross,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_31">31</a></span></li>
+<li> <a href="#A_SONG_ON_THE_TIMES">A song on the times,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_33">33</a></span></li></ul></li>
+<li>&nbsp;</li>
+
+<li><a href="#WILLIAM_CAMERON">WILLIAM CAMERON,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_35">35</a></span></li>
+<li><ul class='TOCSub'><li> <a href="#AS_OER_THE_HIGHLAND_HILLS_I_HIED">As o'er the Highland hills I hied,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_37">37</a></span></li></ul></li>
+<li>&nbsp;</li>
+
+<li><a href="#MRS_JOHN_HUNTER">MRS JOHN HUNTER,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_39">39</a></span></li>
+<li><ul class='TOCSub'><li> <a href="#THE_INDIAN_DEATH-SONG">The Indian death-song,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_41">41</a></span></li>
+<li> <a href="#MY_MOTHER_BIDS_ME_BIND_MY_HAIR">My mother bids me bind my hair,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_41">41</a></span></li>
+<li> <a href="#THE_FLOWERS_OF_THE_FOREST4">The flowers of the forest,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_42">42</a></span></li>
+<li> <a href="#THE_SEASON_COMES_WHEN_FIRST_WE_MET">The season comes when first we met,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_43">43</a></span></li>
+<li> <a href="#OH_TUNEFUL_VOICE_I_STILL_DEPLORE">Oh, tuneful voice! I still deplore,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_44">44</a></span></li>
+<li> <a href="#DEAR_TO_MY_HEART_AS_LIFES_WARM">Dear to my heart as life's warm stream,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_44">44</a></span></li>
+<li> <a href="#THE_LOT_OF_THOUSANDS">The lot of thousands,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_45">45</a></span></li></ul></li>
+<li>&nbsp;</li>
+
+<li><a href="#ALEXANDER_DUKE_OF_GORDON">ALEXANDER, DUKE OF GORDON,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_46">46</a></span></li>
+<li><ul class='TOCSub'><li> <a href="#CAULD_KAIL_IN_ABERDEEN">Cauld kail in Aberdeen,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_48">48</a></span></li></ul></li>
+<li>&nbsp;</li>
+
+<li><a href="#MRS_GRANT_OF_CARRON">MRS GRANT OF CARRON,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_50">50</a></span></li>
+<li><ul class='TOCSub'><li> <a href="#ROYS_WIFE_OF_ALDIVALLOCH">Roy's wife of Aldivalloch,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_52">52</a></span></li></ul></li>
+<li>&nbsp;</li>
+
+<li><a href="#ROBERT_COUPER_MD">ROBERT COUPER, M.D.,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_53">53</a></span></li>
+<li><ul class='TOCSub'><li> <a href="#KINRARA">Kinrara,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_55">55</a></span></li>
+<li> <a href="#THE_SHEELING">The sheeling,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_55">55</a></span></li>
+<li> <a href="#THE_EWE-BUGHTS_MARION6">The ewe-bughts, Marion,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_56">56</a></span></li></ul></li>
+<li>&nbsp;</li>
+
+<li><a href="#LADY_ANNE_BARNARD">LADY ANNE BARNARD,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_58">58</a></span></li>
+<li><ul class='TOCSub'><li> <a href="#AULD_ROBIN_GRAY">Auld Robin Gray,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_64">64</a></span></li>
+<li> <a href="#Part_II">" " Part II.,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_65">65</a></span></li>
+<li> <a href="#SONG">Why tarries my love?</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_68">68</a></span></li></ul></li>
+<li>&nbsp;</li>
+
+<li><a href="#JOHN_TAIT">JOHN TAIT,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_70">70</a></span></li>
+<li><ul class='TOCSub'><li> <a href="#THE_BANKS_OF_THE_DEE">The banks of the Dee,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_72">72</a></span></li></ul></li>
+<li>&nbsp;</li>
+
+<li><a href="#HECTOR_MACNEILL">HECTOR MACNEILL,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_73">73</a></span></li>
+<li><ul class='TOCSub'><li> <a href="#MARY_OF_CASTLECARY12">Mary of Castlecary,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_82">82</a></span></li>
+<li> <a href="#MY_BOY_TAMMY13">My boy, Tammy,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_83">83</a></span></li>
+<li> <a href="#OH_TELL_ME_HOW_FOR_TO_WOO14">Oh, tell me how for to woo,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_85">85</a></span></li>
+<li> <a href="#LASSIE_WI_THE_GOWDEN_HAIR">Lassie wi' the gowden hair,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_87">87</a></span></li>
+<li> <a href="#COME_UNDER_MY_PLAIDIE">Come under my plaidie,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_89">89</a></span></li>
+<li> <a href="#I_LOED_NEER_A_LADDIE_BUT_ANE15">I lo'ed ne'er a laddie but ane,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_90">90</a></span></li>
+<li> <a href="#DONALD_AND_FLORA16">Donald and Flora,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_92">92</a></span></li>
+<li> <a href="#MY_LUVES_IN_GERMANY18">My luve's in Germany,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_95">95</a></span></li>
+<li> <a href="#DINNA_THINK_BONNIE_LASSIE19">Dinna think, bonnie lassie,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_96">96</a></span></li></ul></li>
+<li>&nbsp;</li>
+
+<li><a href="#MRS_GRANT_OF_LAGGAN">MRS GRANT OF LAGGAN,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_99">99</a></span></li>
+<li><ul class='TOCSub'><li> <a href="#OH_WHERE_TELL_ME_WHERE">Oh, where, tell me where?</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_104">104</a></span></li>
+<li> <a href="#OH_MY_LOVE_LEAVE_ME_NOT20">Oh, my love, leave me not,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_106">106</a></span></li></ul></li>
+<li>&nbsp;</li>
+
+<li><a href="#JOHN_MAYNE">JOHN MAYNE,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_107">107</a></span></li>
+<li><ul class='TOCSub'><li> <a href="#LOGAN_BRAES23">Logan braes,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_110">110</a></span></li>
+<li> <a href="#HELEN_OF_KIRKCONNEL24">Helen of Kirkconnel,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_111">111</a></span></li>
+<li> <a href="#THE_WINTER_SAT_LANG">The winter sat lang,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_113">113</a></span></li>
+<li> <a href="#MY_JOHNNIE">My Johnnie,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_114">114</a></span></li>
+<li> <a href="#THE_TROOPS_WERE_EMBARKED">The troops were embarked,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_115">115</a></span></li></ul></li>
+<li>&nbsp;</li>
+
+<li><a href="#JOHN_HAMILTON">JOHN HAMILTON,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_117">117</a></span></li>
+<li><ul class='TOCSub'><li> <a href="#THE_RANTIN_HIGHLANDMAN">The rantin' Highlandman, </a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_118">118</a></span></li>
+<li> <a href="#UP_IN_THE_MORNIN_EARLY25">Up in the mornin' early,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_119">119</a></span></li>
+<li> <a href="#GO_TO_BERWICK_JOHNNIE26">Go to Berwick, Johnnie,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_121">121</a></span></li>
+<li> <a href="#MISS_FORBES_FAREWELL_TO_BANFF">Miss Forbes' farewell to Banff,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_121">121</a></span></li>
+<li> <a href="#TELL_ME_JESSIE_TELL_ME_WHY">Tell me, Jessie, tell me why?</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_122">122</a></span></li>
+<li> <a href="#THE_HAWTHORN">The hawthorn,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_123">123</a></span></li>
+<li> <a href="#OH_BLAW_YE_WESTLIN_WINDS27">Oh, blaw, ye westlin' winds!</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_124">124</a></span></li></ul></li>
+<li>&nbsp;</li>
+
+<li><a href="#JOANNA_BAILLIE">JOANNA BAILLIE,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_126">126</a></span></li>
+<li><ul class='TOCSub'><li> <a href="#THE_MAID_OF_LLANWELLYN">The maid of Llanwellyn,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_132">132</a></span></li>
+<li> <a href="#GOOD_NIGHT_GOOD_NIGHT">Good night, good night!</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_133">133</a></span></li>
+<li> <a href="#THOUGH_RICHER_SWAINS_THY_LOVE">Though richer swains thy love pursue,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_134">134</a></span></li>
+<li> <a href="#POVERTY_PARTS_GUDE_COMPANIE29">Poverty parts good companie,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_134">134</a></span></li>
+<li> <a href="#FY_LET_US_A_TO_THE_WEDDING30">Fy, let us a' to the wedding,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_136">136</a></span></li>
+<li> <a href="#HOOLY_AND_FAIRLY31">Hooly and fairly,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_139">139</a></span></li>
+<li> <a href="#THE_WEARY_PUND_O_TOW">The weary pund o' tow,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_141">141</a></span></li>
+<li> <a href="#THE_WEE_PICKLE_TOW32">The wee pickle tow,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_142">142</a></span></li>
+<li> <a href="#THE_GOWAN_GLITTERS_ON_THE_SWARD">The gowan glitters on the sward,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_143">143</a></span></li>
+<li> <a href="#SAW_YE_JOHNNIE_COMIN">Saw ye Johnnie comin'?</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_145">145</a></span></li>
+<li> <a href="#IT_FELL_ON_A_MORNING33">It fell on a morning,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_146">146</a></span></li>
+<li> <a href="#WOOD_AND_MARRIED_AND_A34">Woo'd, and married, and a',</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_148">148</a></span></li></ul></li>
+<li>&nbsp;</li>
+
+<li><a href="#WILLIAM_DUDGEON">WILLIAM DUDGEON,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_151">151</a></span></li>
+<li><ul class='TOCSub'><li> <a href="#UP_AMONG_YON_CLIFFY_ROCKS">Up among yon cliffy rocks,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_152">152</a></span></li></ul></li>
+<li>&nbsp;</li>
+
+<li><a href="#WILLIAM_REID">WILLIAM REID,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_153">153</a></span></li>
+<li><ul class='TOCSub'><li> <a href="#THE_LEA_RIG35">The lea rig,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_154">154</a></span></li>
+<li> <a href="#JOHN_ANDERSON_MY_JO36">John Anderson, my jo (a continuation), </a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_155">155</a></span></li>
+<li> <a href="#FAIR_MODEST_FLOWER">Fair, modest flower,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_157">157</a></span></li>
+<li> <a href="#KATE_O_GOWRIE37">Kate o' Gowrie,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_157">157</a></span></li>
+<li> <a href="#UPON_THE_BANKS_O_FLOWING_CLYDE38">Upon the banks o' flowing Clyde,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_159">159</a></span></li></ul></li>
+<li>&nbsp;</li>
+
+<li><a href="#ALEXANDER_CAMPBELL">ALEXANDER CAMPBELL,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_161">161</a></span></li>
+<li><ul class='TOCSub'><li> <a href="#NOW_WINTERS_WIND_SWEEPS">Now winter's wind sweeps,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_165">165</a></span></li>
+<li> <a href="#THE_HAWK_WHOOPS_ON_HIGH">The hawk whoops on high,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_166">166</a></span></li></ul></li>
+<li>&nbsp;</li>
+
+<li><a href="#MRS_DUGALD_STEWART">MRS DUGALD STEWART,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_167">167</a></span></li>
+<li><ul class='TOCSub'><li> <a href="#THE_TEARS_I_SHED_MUST_EVER_FALL">The tears I shed must ever fall,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_168">168</a></span></li>
+<li> <a href="#RETURNING_SPRING_WITH_GLADSOME_RAY40"> Returning spring, with gladsome ray,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_169">169</a></span></li></ul></li>
+<li>&nbsp;</li>
+
+<li><a href="#ALEXANDER_WILSON">ALEXANDER WILSON,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_172">172</a></span></li>
+<li><ul class='TOCSub'><li> <a href="#CONNEL_AND_FLORA">Connel and Flora,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_179">179</a></span></li>
+<li> <a href="#MATILDA">Matilda,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_179">179</a></span></li>
+<li> <a href="#AUCHTERTOOL43">Auchtertool,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_182">182</a></span></li></ul></li>
+<li>&nbsp;</li>
+
+<li><a href="#CAROLINA_BARONESS_NAIRN">CAROLINA, BARONESS NAIRN,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_184">184</a></span></li>
+<li><ul class='TOCSub'><li> <a href="#THE_PLEUGHMAN47">The ploughman,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_194">194</a></span></li>
+<li> <a href="#CALLER_HERRIN48">Caller herrin',</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_195">195</a></span></li>
+<li> <a href="#THE_LAND_O_THE_LEAL49">The land o' the leal,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_196">196</a></span></li>
+<li> <a href="#THE_LAIRD_O_COCKPEN50">The Laird o' Cockpen,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_198">198</a></span></li>
+<li> <a href="#HER_HOME_SHE_IS_LEAVING">Her home she is leaving,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_200">200</a></span></li>
+<li> <a href="#THE_BONNIEST_LASS_IN_A_THE_WARLD">The bonniest lass in a' the warld,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_201">201</a></span></li>
+<li> <a href="#MY_AIN_KIND_DEARIE_O51">My ain kind dearie, O!</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_202">202</a></span></li>
+<li> <a href="#HES_LIFELESS_AMANG_THE_RUDE">He 's lifeless amang the rude billows,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_202">202</a></span></li>
+<li> <a href="#JOY_OF_MY_EARLIEST_DAYS">Joy of my earliest days,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_203">203</a></span></li>
+<li> <a href="#OH_WEELS_ME_ON_MY_AIN_MAN">Oh, weel's me on my ain man,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_204">204</a></span></li>
+<li> <a href="#KIND_ROBIN_LOES_ME52">Kind Robin lo'es me</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_205">205</a></span></li>
+<li> <a href="#KITTY_REIDS_HOUSE">Kitty Reid's house,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_205">205</a></span></li>
+<li> <a href="#THE_ROBINS_NEST">The robin's nest,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_206">206</a></span></li>
+<li> <a href="#SAW_YE_NAE_MY_PEGGY53">Saw ye nae my Peggy?</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_208">208</a></span></li>
+<li> <a href="#GUDE_NICHT_AND_JOY_BE_WI_YE_A">Gude nicht, and joy be wi' ye a'!</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_209">209</a></span></li>
+<li> <a href="#CAULD_KAIL_IN_ABERDEEN54">Cauld kail in Aberdeen,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_210">210</a></span></li>
+<li> <a href="#HES_OWER_THE_HILLS_THAT_I_LOE">He 's ower the hills that I lo'e weel,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_211">211</a></span></li>
+<li> <a href="#THE_LASS_O_GOWRIE55">The lass o' Gowrie,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_213">213</a></span></li>
+<li> <a href="#THERE_GROWS_A_BONNIE_BRIER_BUSH56">There grows a bonnie brier bush,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_215">215</a></span></li>
+<li> <a href="#JOHN_TOD">John Tod,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_216">216</a></span></li>
+<li> <a href="#WILL_YE_NO_COME_BACK_AGAIN">Will ye no come back again?</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_218">218</a></span></li>
+<li> <a href="#JAMIE_THE_LAIRD">Jamie the laird,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_219">219</a></span></li>
+<li> <a href="#SONGS_OF_MY_NATIVE_LAND">Songs of my native land,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_220">220</a></span></li>
+<li> <a href="#CASTELL_GLOOM58">Castell Gloom,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_221">221</a></span></li>
+<li> <a href="#BONNIE_GASCON_HA">Bonnie Gascon Ha',</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_223">223</a></span></li>
+<li> <a href="#THE_AULD_HOUSE">The auld house,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_224">224</a></span></li>
+<li> <a href="#THE_HUNDRED_PIPERS59">The hundred pipers,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_226">226</a></span></li>
+<li> <a href="#THE_WOMEN_ARE_A_GANE_WUD60">The women are a' gane wud,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_227">227</a></span></li>
+<li> <a href="#JEANIE_DEANS61">Jeanie Deans,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_228">228</a></span></li>
+<li> <a href="#THE_HEIRESS63">The heiress,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_230">230</a></span></li>
+<li> <a href="#THE_MITHERLESS_LAMMIE">The mitherless lammie,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_231">231</a></span></li>
+<li> <a href="#THE_ATTAINTED_SCOTTISH_NOBLES64">The attainted Scottish nobles,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_232">232</a></span></li>
+<li> <a href="#TRUE_LOVE_IS_WATERED_AYE_WI">True love is watered aye wi' tears,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_233">233</a></span></li>
+<li> <a href="#AH_LITTLE_DID_MY_MOTHER_THINK66">Ah, little did my mother think,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_234">234</a></span></li>
+<li> <a href="#WOULD_YOU_BE_YOUNG_AGAIN67">Would you be young again?</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_235">235</a></span></li>
+<li> <a href="#REST_IS_NOT_HERE">Rest is not here,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_236">236</a></span></li>
+<li> <a href="#HERES_TO_THEM_THAT_ARE_GANE">Here's to them that are gane,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_237">237</a></span></li>
+<li> <a href="#FAREWEEL_O_FAREWEEL">Farewell, O farewell!</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_238">238</a></span></li>
+<li> <a href="#THE_DEAD_WHO_HAVE_DIED_IN_THE">The dead who have died in the Lord,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_239">239</a></span></li></ul></li>
+<li>&nbsp;</li>
+
+<li><a href="#JAMES_NICOL">JAMES NICOL,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_240">240</a></span></li>
+<li><ul class='TOCSub'><li> <a href="#BLAW_SAFTLY_YE_BREEZES">Blaw saftly, ye breezes,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_242">242</a></span></li>
+<li> <a href="#BY_YON_HOARSE_MURMURIN_STREAM">By yon hoarse murmurin' stream,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_242">242</a></span></li>
+<li> <a href="#HALUCKIT_MEG">Haluckit Meg,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_244">244</a></span></li>
+<li> <a href="#MY_DEAR_LITTLE_LASSIE">My dear little lassie,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_246">246</a></span></li></ul></li>
+<li>&nbsp;</li>
+
+<li><a href="#JAMES_MONTGOMERY">JAMES MONTGOMERY,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_247">247</a></span></li>
+<li><ul class='TOCSub'><li> <a href="#FRIENDSHIP_LOVE_AND_TRUTH">"Friendship, love, and truth,"</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_253">253</a></span></li>
+<li> <a href="#THE_SWISS_COWHERDS_SONG_IN_A">The Swiss cowherd's song in a foreign land,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_254">254</a></span></li>
+<li> <a href="#GERMAN_WAR-SONG69">German war-song,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_254">254</a></span></li>
+<li> <a href="#VIA_CRUCIS_VIA_LUCIS">Via Crucis, via Lucis,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_255">255</a></span></li>
+<li> <a href="#VERSES_TO_A_ROBIN_RED-BREAST">Verses to a robin-redbreast,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_257">257</a></span></li>
+<li> <a href="#SLAVERY_THAT_WAS">Slavery that was,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_258">258</a></span></li></ul></li>
+<li>&nbsp;</li>
+
+<li><a href="#ANDREW_SCOTT">ANDREW SCOTT,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_260">260</a></span></li>
+<li><ul class='TOCSub'><li> <a href="#RURAL_CONTENT_OR_THE_MUIRLAND">Rural content, or the muirland farmer,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_263">263</a></span></li>
+<li> <a href="#SYMON_AND_JANET">Symon and Janet,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_265">265</a></span></li>
+<li> <a href="#COQUET_WATER">Coquet water,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_268">268</a></span></li>
+<li> <a href="#THE_YOUNG_MAIDS_WISH_FOR_PEACE">The young maid's wish for peace,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_269">269</a></span></li>
+<li> <a href="#THE_FIDDLERS_WIDOW">The fiddler's widow,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_271">271</a></span></li>
+<li> <a href="#LAMENT_FOR_THE_DEATH_OF_AN_IRISH_CHIEF">Lament for the death of an Irish chief,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_272">272</a></span></li>
+<li> <a href="#THE_DEPARTURE_OF_SUMMER">The departure of summer,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_273">273</a></span></li></ul></li>
+<li>&nbsp;</li>
+
+<li><a href="#SIR_WALTER_SCOTT_BART">SIR WALTER SCOTT, BART.,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_275">275</a></span></li>
+<li><ul class='TOCSub'><li> <a href="#IT_WAS_AN_ENGLISH_LADYE_BRIGHT74">It was an English ladye bright,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_289">289</a></span></li>
+<li> <a href="#LOCHINVAR75">Lochinvar,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_290">290</a></span></li>
+<li> <a href="#WHERE_SHALL_THE_LOVER_REST76">Where shall the lover rest,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_292">292</a></span></li>
+<li> <a href="#SOLDIER_REST_THY_WARFARE_OER77">Soldier, rest! thy warfare o'er,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_294">294</a></span></li>
+<li> <a href="#HAIL_TO_THE_CHIEF_WHO_IN_TRIUMPH_ADVANCES78">Hail to the chief who in triumph advances,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_295">295</a></span></li>
+<li> <a href="#THE_HEATH_THIS_NIGHT_MUST_BE_MY_BED79">The heath this night must be my bed,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_297">297</a></span></li>
+<li> <a href="#THE_IMPRISONED_HUNTSMAN80">The imprisoned huntsman,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_298">298</a></span></li>
+<li> <a href="#HE_IS_GONE_ON_THE_MOUNTAIN81">He is gone on the mountain,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_299">299</a></span></li>
+<li> <a href="#A_WEARY_LOT_IS_THINE_FAIR_MAID82">A weary lot is thine, fair maid,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_300">300</a></span></li>
+<li> <a href="#ALLEN-A-DALE83">Allen-a-Dale,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_300">300</a></span></li>
+<li> <a href="#THE_CYPRESS_WREATH84">The cypress wreath,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_302">302</a></span></li>
+<li> <a href="#THE_CAVALIER85">The cavalier,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_303">303</a></span></li>
+<li> <a href="#HUNTING_SONG86">Hunting song,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_304">304</a></span></li>
+<li> <a href="#OH_SAY_NOT_MY_LOVE_WITH_THAT">Oh, say not, my love, with that mortified air,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_315">315</a></span></li></ul></li>
+</ul>
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<h3>METRICAL TRANSLATIONS FROM THE MODERN
+GAELIC MINSTRELSY.</h3>
+
+<ul class='TOC'>
+<li><a href="#ROBERT_MACKAY_ROB_DONN">ROBERT MACKAY (ROB DONN),</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_309">309</a></span></li>
+<li><ul class='TOCSub'><li> <a href="#THE_SONG_OF_WINTER">The song of winter,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_311">311</a></span></li>
+<li> <a href="#DIRGE_FOR_IAN_MACECHAN">Dirge for Ian Macechan,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_315">315</a></span></li>
+<li> <a href="#THE_SONG_OF_THE_FORSAKEN_DROVER">The song of the forsaken drover,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_315">315</a></span></li>
+<li> <a href="#ISABEL_MACKAY_THE_MAID_ALONE">Isabel Mackay&mdash;the maid alone,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_318">318</a></span></li>
+<li> <a href="#EVANS_ELEGY">Evan's Elegy,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_321">321</a></span></li></ul></li>
+
+<li>&nbsp;</li>
+<li><a href="#DOUGAL_BUCHANAN">DOUGAL BUCHANAN,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_322">322</a></span></li>
+<li><ul class='TOCSub'><li> <a href="#A_CLAGIONN">A clagionn&mdash;the skull,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_326">326</a></span></li>
+<li> <a href="#AM_BRUADAR">Am bruadar&mdash;the dream,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_330">330</a></span></li></ul></li>
+<li>&nbsp;</li>
+
+<li><a href="#DUNCAN_MACINTYRE">DUNCAN MACINTYRE,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_334">334</a></span></li>
+<li><ul class='TOCSub'><li> <a href="#MAIRI_BHAN_OG">Mairi bh&#257;n &#333;g (Mary, the young, the fair-haired),</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_335">335</a></span></li>
+<li> <a href="#BENDOURAIN_THE_OTTER_MOUNT">Bendourain, the Otter Mount,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_336">336</a></span></li>
+<li> <a href="#THE_BARD_TO_HIS_MUSKET124">The bard to his musket,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_347">347</a></span></li></ul></li>
+<li>&nbsp;</li>
+
+<li><a href="#JOHN_MACODRUM">JOHN MACODRUM,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_351">351</a></span></li>
+<li><ul class='TOCSub'><li> <a href="#ORAN_NA_H-AOIS">Oran na h-aois (the song of age),</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_352">352</a></span></li></ul></li>
+<li>&nbsp;</li>
+
+<li><a href="#NORMAN_MACLEOD">NORMAN MACLEOD (TORMAID BAN),</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_355">355</a></span></li>
+<li><ul class='TOCSub'><li> <a href="#CABERFAE">Caberfae,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_357">357</a></span></li></ul></li>
+<li>&nbsp;</li>
+<li><hr style="width: 45%;" /></li>
+<li><a href="#GLOSSARY">GLOSSARY,</a> <span class='tocright'><a href="#Page_363">363</a></span></li>
+</ul>
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[Pg 1]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>THE<br />
+MODERN SCOTTISH MINSTREL</h2>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="JOHN_SKINNER" id="JOHN_SKINNER"></a>JOHN SKINNER.</h2>
+
+
+<p>Among those modern Scottish poets whose lives, by extending
+to a considerably distant period, render them
+connecting links between the old and recent minstrelsy
+of Caledonia, the first place is due to the Rev. <span class="smcap">John
+Skinner</span>. This ingenious and learned person was
+born on the 3d of October 1721, at Balfour, in the
+parish of Birse, and county of Aberdeen. His father,
+who bore the same Christian name, was parochial schoolmaster;
+but two years after his son's birth, he was presented
+to the more lucrative situation of schoolmaster of
+Echt, a parish about twelve miles distant from Aberdeen.
+He discharged the duties of this latter appointment
+during the long incumbency of fifty years. He
+was twice married. By his first union with Mrs Jean
+Gillanders, the relict of Donald Farquharson of Balfour,
+was born an only child, the subject of this memoir. The
+mother dying when the child was only two years old,
+the charge of his early training depended solely on his
+father, who for several years remained a widower. The
+paternal duties were adequately performed: the son,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[Pg 2]</a></span>
+while a mere youth, was initiated in classical learning,
+and in his thirteenth year he became a successful competitor
+for a bursary or exhibition in Marischal College,
+Aberdeen. At the University, during the usual philosophical
+course of four years, he pursued his studies with
+diligence and success; and he afterwards became an
+usher in the parish schools of Kemnay and Monymusk.</p>
+
+<p>From early youth, young Skinner had courted the
+Muse of his country, and composed verses in the Scottish
+dialect. When a mere stripling, he could repeat,
+which he did with enthusiasm, the long poem by James
+I. of "Christ-kirk on the Green;" he afterwards translated
+it into Latin verse; and an imitation of the same
+poem, entitled "The Monymusk Christmas Ba'ing,"
+descriptive of the diversions attendant on the annual
+Christmas gatherings for playing the game of foot-ball
+at Monymusk, which he composed in his sixteenth year,
+attracting the notice of the lady of Sir Archibald Grant,
+Bart. of Monymusk, brought him the favour of that influential
+family. Though the humble usher of a parish
+school, he was honoured with the patronage of the worthy
+baronet and his lady, became an inmate of their mansion,
+and had the uncontrolled use of its library. The residence
+of the poet in Monymusk House indirectly conduced
+towards his forming those ecclesiastical sentiments
+which exercised such an important influence on his subsequent
+career. The Episcopal clergyman of the district
+was frequently a guest at the table of Sir Archibald;
+and by the arguments and persuasive conversation of
+this person, Mr Skinner was induced to enlist his sympathies
+in the cause of the Episcopal or non-juring clergy
+of Scotland. They bore the latter appellation from their
+refusal, during the existence of the exiled family of Stewart,
+to take the oath of allegiance to the House of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span>
+Hanover. In 1740, on the invitation of Mr Robert
+Forbes, Episcopal minister at Leith, afterwards a bishop,
+Mr Skinner, in the capacity of private tutor to the only
+son of Mr Sinclair of Scolloway, proceeded to Zetland,
+where he acquired the intimate friendship of the Rev.
+Mr Hunter, the only non-juring clergyman in that remote
+district. There he remained only one year, owing
+to the death of the elder Mr Sinclair, and the removal
+of his pupil to pursue his studies in a less retired locality.
+He lamented the father's death in Latin, as well as in
+English verse. He left Scolloway with the best wishes
+of the family; and as a substantial proof of the goodwill
+of his friend Mr Hunter, he received in marriage the
+hand of his eldest daughter.</p>
+
+<p>Returning to Aberdeenshire, he was ordained a presbyter
+of the Episcopal Church, by Bishop Dunbar of
+Peterhead; and in November 1742, on the unanimous
+invitation of the people, he was appointed to the pastoral
+charge of the congregation at Longside. Uninfluenced
+by the soarings of ambition, he seems to have
+fixed here, at the outset, a permanent habitation: he
+rented a cottage at Linshart in the vicinity, which,
+though consisting only of a single apartment, besides
+the kitchen, sufficed for the expenditure of his limited
+emoluments. In every respect he realised Goldsmith's
+description of the village pastor:&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"A man he was to all the country dear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And passing rich with forty pounds a-year;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Remote from towns he ran his godly race,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor e'er had changed, nor wish'd to change his place."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>Secluded, however, as were Mr Skinner's habits, and
+though he never had interfered in the political movements
+of the period, he did not escape his share in those<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span>
+ruthless severities which were visited upon the non-juring
+clergy subsequent to the last Rebellion. His
+chapel was destroyed by the soldiers of the barbarous
+Duke of Cumberland; and, on the plea of his having
+transgressed the law by preaching to more than four
+persons without subscribing the oath of allegiance, he
+was, during six months, detained a prisoner in the jail
+of Aberdeen.</p>
+
+<p>Entering on the sacred duties of the pastoral office,
+Mr Skinner appears to have checked the indulgence of
+his rhyming propensities. His subsequent poetical productions,
+which include the whole of his popular songs,
+were written to please his friends, or gratify the members
+of his family, and without the most distant view to
+publication. In 1787, he writes to Burns, on the subject
+of Scottish song:&mdash;"While I was young, I dabbled
+a good deal in these things; but on getting the black
+gown, I gave it pretty much over, till my daughters
+grew up, who, being all tolerably good singers, plagued
+me for words to some of their favourite tunes, and so
+extorted those effusions which have made a public appearance,
+beyond my expectations, and contrary to my
+intentions; at the same time, I hope there is nothing
+to be found in them uncharacteristic or unbecoming the
+cloth, which I would always wish to see respected."
+Some of Mr Skinner's best songs were composed at a
+sitting, while they seldom underwent any revision after
+being committed to paper. To the following incident,
+his most popular song, "Tullochgorum," owed its origin.
+In the course of a visit he was making to a friend in
+Ellon (not Cullen, as has been stated on the authority
+of Burns), a dispute arose among the guests on the subject
+of Whig and Tory politics, which, becoming somewhat
+too exciting for the comfort of the lady of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span>
+house, in order to bring it promptly to a close, she requested
+Mr Skinner to suggest appropriate words for
+the favourite air, "The Reel of Tullochgorum." Mr
+Skinner readily complied, and, before leaving the house,
+produced what Burns, in a letter to the author, characterised
+as "the best Scotch song ever Scotland saw."
+The name of the lady who made the request to the poet
+was Mrs Montgomery, and hence the allusion in the first
+stanza of the ballad:&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Come gie 's a sang, Montgomery cried,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And lay your disputes all aside;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What signifies 't for folks to chide<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For what was done before them?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Let Whig and Tory all agree," &amp;c.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>Though claiming no distinction as a writer of verses,
+Mr Skinner did not conceal his ambition to excel in
+another department of literature. In 1746, in his
+twenty-fifth year, he published a pamphlet, in defence
+of the non-juring character of his Church, entitled
+"A Preservative against Presbytery." A performance
+of greater effort, published in 1757, excited some attention,
+and the unqualified commendation of the learned
+Bishop Sherlock. In this production, entitled "A Dissertation
+on Jacob's Prophecy," which was intended as
+a supplement to a treatise on the same subject by Dr
+Sherlock, the author has established, by a critical examination
+of the original language, that the words in
+Jacob's prophecy (Gen. xlix. 10), rendered "sceptre"
+and "lawgiver" in the authorised version, ought to be
+translated "tribeship" and "typifier," a difference of
+interpretation which obviates some difficulties respecting
+the exact fulfilment of this remarkable prediction. In
+a pamphlet printed in 1767, Mr Skinner again vindicated
+the claims and authority of his Church; and on<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span>
+this occasion, against the alleged misrepresentations of
+Mr Norman Sievewright, English clergyman at Brechin,
+who had published a work unfavourable to the cause of
+Scottish Episcopacy. His most important work, "An
+Ecclesiastical History of Scotland, from the first appearance
+of Christianity in that kingdom," was published in
+the year 1788, in two octavo volumes. This publication,
+which is arranged in the form of letters to a friend,
+and dedicated, in elegant Latin verse, "Ad Filium et
+Episcopum," (to his son, and bishop), by partaking too
+rigidly of a sectarian character, did not attain any measure
+of success. Mr Skinner's other prose works were
+published after his death, together with a Memoir of the
+author, under the editorial care of his son, Bishop Skinner
+of Aberdeen. These consist of theological essays,
+in the form of "Letters addressed to Candidates for
+Holy Orders," "A Dissertation on the Sheckinah, or
+Divine Presence with the Church or People of God,"
+and "An Essay towards a literal or true radical exposition
+of the Song of Songs," the whole being included
+in two octavo volumes, which appeared in 1809. A
+third volume was added, containing a collection of the
+author's compositions in Latin verse, and his fugitive
+songs and ballads in the Scottish dialect&mdash;the latter
+portion of this volume being at the same time published
+in a more compendious form, with the title, "Amusements
+of Leisure Hours; or, Poetical Pieces, chiefly in
+the Scottish dialect."</p>
+
+<p>Though living in constant retirement at Linshart, the
+reputation of the Longside pastor, both as a poet and
+a man of classical taste, became widely extended, and
+persons distinguished in the world of letters sought his
+correspondence and friendship. With Dr Gleig, afterwards
+titular Bishop of Brechin, Dr Doig of Stirling,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span>
+and John Ramsay of Ochtertyre, he maintained an
+epistolary intercourse for several years. Dr Gleig, who
+edited the <i>Encyclop&aelig;dia Britannica</i>, consulted Mr Skinner
+respecting various important articles contributed to
+that valuable publication. His correspondence with
+Doig and Ramsay was chiefly on their favourite topic
+of philology. These two learned friends visited Mr
+Skinner in the summer of 1795, and entertained him
+for a week at Peterhead. This brief period of intellectual
+intercourse was regarded by the poet as the most
+entirely pleasurable of his existence; and the impression
+of it on the vivid imagination of Mr Ramsay is
+recorded in a Latin eulogy on his northern correspondent,
+which he subsequently transmitted to him. A
+poetical epistle addressed by Mr Skinner to Robert
+Burns, in commendation of his talents, was characterized
+by the Ayrshire Bard as "the best poetical compliment
+he had ever received." It led to a regular
+correspondence, which was carried on with much satisfaction
+to both parties. The letters, which chiefly
+relate to the preparation of Johnson's <i>Musical Museum</i>,
+then in the course of publication, have been included in
+his published correspondence. Burns never saw Mr
+Skinner; he had not informed himself as to his locality
+during the prosecution of his northern tour, and had
+thus the mortification of ascertaining that he had been
+in his neighbourhood, without having formed his personal
+acquaintance. To Mr Skinner's son, whom he
+accidentally met in Aberdeen on his return, he expressed
+a deep regret for the blunder, as "he would
+have gone twenty miles out of his way to visit the
+author of 'Tullochgorum.'"</p>
+
+<p>As a man of ingenuity, various acquirements, and
+agreeable manners, Mr Skinner was held in much<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span>
+estimation among his contemporaries. Whatever he
+read, with the assistance of a commonplace-book, he
+accurately remembered, and could readily turn to account;
+and, though his library was contained in a
+closet of five feet square, he was abundantly well informed
+on every ordinary topic of conversation. He
+was fond of controversial discussion, and wielded both
+argument and wit with a power alarming to every
+antagonist. Though keen in debate, he was however
+possessed of a most imperturbable suavity of temper.
+His conversation was of a playful cast, interspersed
+with anecdote, and free from every affectation of learning.
+As a clergyman, Mr Skinner enjoyed the esteem
+and veneration of his flock. Besides efficiently discharging
+his ministerial duties, he practised gratuitously
+as a physician, having qualified himself, by
+acquiring a competent acquaintance with the healing
+art at the medical classes in Marischal College. His
+pulpit duties were widely acceptable; but his discourses,
+though edifying and instructive, were more the result
+of the promptitude of the preacher than the effects of a
+painstaking preparation. He abandoned the aid of the
+manuscript in the pulpit, on account of the untoward
+occurrence of his notes being scattered by a startled fowl,
+in the early part of his ministry, while he was addressing
+his people from the door of his house, after the
+wanton destruction of his chapel.</p>
+
+<p>In a scene less calculated to invite poetic inspiration
+no votary of the muse had ever resided. On every side
+of his lonely dwelling extended a wild uncultivated plain;
+nor for miles around did any other human habitation
+relieve the monotony of this cheerless solitude. In her
+gayest moods, Nature never wore a pleasing aspect in
+<i>Long-gate</i>, nor did the distant prospect compensate for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span>
+the dreary gloominess of the surrounding landscape.
+For his poetic suggestions Mr Skinner was wholly dependent
+on the singular activity of his fancy; as he
+derived his chief happiness in his communings with an
+attached flock, and in the endearing intercourse of his
+family. Of his children, who were somewhat numerous
+he contrived to afford the whole, both sons and
+daughters, a superior education; and he had the satisfaction,
+for a long period of years, to address one of his
+sons as the bishop of his diocese.</p>
+
+<p>The death of Mr Skinner's wife, in the year 1799,
+fifty-eight years after their marriage, was the most
+severe trial which he seems to have experienced. In a
+Latin elegy, he gave expression to the deep sense which
+he entertained of his bereavement. In 1807, his son,
+Bishop Skinner, having sustained a similar bereavement,
+invited his aged father to share the comforts of
+his house; and after ministering at Longside for the
+remarkably lengthened incumbency of sixty-five years,
+Mr Skinner removed to Aberdeen. But a greater
+change was at hand; on the 16th of June 1807, in
+less than a week after his arrival, he was suddenly
+seized with illness, and almost immediately expired.
+His remains were interred in the churchyard of Longside;
+and the flock to which he had so long ministered
+placed over the grave a handsome monument, bearing,
+on a marble tablet, an elegant tribute to the remembrance
+of his virtues and learning. At the residence of
+Bishop Skinner, he had seen his descendants in the
+fourth generation.</p>
+
+<p>Of Mr Skinner's songs, printed in this collection, the
+most popular are "Tullochgorum," "John o' Badenyon,"
+and "The Ewie wi' the Crookit Horn." The
+whole are pervaded by sprightliness and good-humoured<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span>
+pleasantry. Though possessing the fault of being somewhat
+too lengthy, no song-compositions of any modern
+writer in Scottish verse have, with the exception of
+those of Burns, maintained a stronger hold of the Scottish
+heart, or been more commonly sung in the social
+circle.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="TULLOCHGORUM" id="TULLOCHGORUM"></a>TULLOCHGORUM.</h3>
+
+
+<h4>I.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Come gie 's a sang, Montgomery cried,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And lay your disputes all aside,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What signifies 't for folks to chide<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For what was done before them:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Let Whig and Tory all agree,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whig and Tory, Whig and Tory,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whig and Tory all agree,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To drop their Whig-mig-morum;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Let Whig and Tory all agree<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To spend the night wi' mirth and glee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And cheerful sing alang wi' me<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Reel o' Tullochgorum.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>II.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">O Tullochgorum 's my delight,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It gars us a' in ane unite,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And ony sumph that keeps a spite,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In conscience I abhor him:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For blythe and cheerie we'll be a',<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Blythe and cheerie, blythe and cheerie,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Blythe and cheerie we'll be a',<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And make a happy quorum;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For blythe and cheerie we'll be a'<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As lang as we hae breath to draw,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And dance, till we be like to fa',<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Reel o' Tullochgorum.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span></div></div>
+
+
+<h4>III.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">What needs there be sae great a fraise<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wi' dringing dull Italian lays?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I wadna gie our ain Strathspeys<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For half a hunder score o' them;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They're dowf and dowie at the best,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Dowf and dowie, dowf and dowie,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Dowf and dowie at the best,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wi' a' their variorum;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They're dowf and dowie at the best,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Their <i>allegros</i> and a' the rest,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They canna' please a Scottish taste,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Compared wi' Tullochgorum.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>IV.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Let warldly worms their minds oppress<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wi' fears o' want and double cess,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And sullen sots themsells distress<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wi' keeping up decorum:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shall we sae sour and sulky sit,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sour and sulky, sour and sulky,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sour and sulky shall we sit,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Like old philosophorum?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shall we sae sour and sulky sit,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wi' neither sense, nor mirth, nor wit,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor ever try to shake a fit<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To th' Reel o' Tullochgorum?<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>V.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">May choicest blessings aye attend<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Each honest, open-hearted friend,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And calm and quiet be his end,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And a' that's good watch o'er him;<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">May peace and plenty be his lot,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Peace and plenty, peace and plenty,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Peace and plenty be his lot,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And dainties a great store o' them:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">May peace and plenty be his lot,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Unstain'd by any vicious spot,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And may he never want a groat,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That 's fond o' Tullochgorum!<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>VI.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But for the sullen, frumpish fool,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That loves to be oppression's tool,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">May envy gnaw his rotten soul,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And discontent devour him;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">May dool and sorrow be his chance,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Dool and sorrow, dool and sorrow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Dool and sorrow be his chance,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And nane say, Wae 's me for him!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">May dool and sorrow be his chance,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wi' a' the ills that come frae France,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wha e'er he be that winna dance<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Reel o' Tullochgorum.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="JOHN_O_BADENYON" id="JOHN_O_BADENYON"></a>JOHN O' BADENYON</h3>
+
+
+<h4>I.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When first I cam to be a man<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of twenty years or so,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I thought myself a handsome youth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And fain the world would know;<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">In best attire I stept abroad,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With spirits brisk and gay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And here and there and everywhere<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Was like a morn in May;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No care I had, nor fear of want,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But rambled up and down,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And for a beau I might have past<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In country or in town;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I still was pleased where'er I went,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And when I was alone,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I tuned my pipe and pleased myself<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wi' John o' Badenyon.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>II.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Now in the days of youthful prime<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A mistress I must find,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For <i>love</i>, I heard, gave one an air<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And e'en improved the mind:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On Phillis fair above the rest<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Kind fortune fix'd my eyes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her piercing beauty struck my heart,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And she became my choice;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To Cupid now, with hearty prayer,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I offer'd many a vow;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And danced and sung, and sigh'd and swore,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As other lovers do;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But, when at last I breathed my flame,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I found her cold as stone;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I left the girl, and tuned my pipe<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To John o' Badenyon.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>III.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When <i>love</i> had thus my heart beguiled<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With foolish hopes and vain;<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">To <i>friendship's</i> port I steer'd my course,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And laugh'd at lovers' pain;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A friend I got by lucky chance,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'Twas something like divine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An honest friend 's a precious gift,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And such a gift was mine;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And now whatever might betide<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A happy man was I,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In any strait I knew to whom<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I freely might apply.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A strait soon came: my friend I try'd;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He heard, and spurn'd my moan;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I hied me home, and tuned my pipe<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To John o' Badenyon.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>IV.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Methought I should be wiser next,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And would a <i>patriot</i> turn,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Began to doat on Johnny Wilkes<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And cry up Parson Horne.<a name="FNanchor_1_1" id="FNanchor_1_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Their manly spirit I admired,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And praised their noble zeal,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who had with flaming tongue and pen<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Maintain'd the public weal;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But e'er a month or two had pass'd,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I found myself betray'd,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'Twas <i>self</i> and <i>party</i>, after all,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For a' the stir they made;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">At last I saw the factious knaves<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Insult the very throne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I cursed them a', and tuned my pipe<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To John o' Badenyon.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span></div></div>
+
+
+<h4>V.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">What next to do I mused awhile,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Still hoping to succeed;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I pitch'd on <i>books</i> for company,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And gravely tried to read:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I bought and borrow'd everywhere,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And studied night and day,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor miss'd what dean or doctor wrote<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That happen'd in my way:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Philosophy I now esteem'd<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The ornament of youth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And carefully through many a page<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I hunted after truth.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A thousand various schemes I tried,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And yet was pleased with none;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I threw them by, and tuned my pipe<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To John o' Badenyon.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>VI.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And now, ye youngsters everywhere,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That wish to make a show,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Take heed in time, nor fondly hope<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For happiness below;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What you may fancy pleasure here,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is but an empty name,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And <i>girls</i>, and <i>friends</i>, and <i>books</i>, and so,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You 'll find them all the same.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then be advised, and warning take<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From such a man as me;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I 'm neither Pope nor Cardinal,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor one of high degree;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You 'll meet displeasure everywhere;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then do as I have done,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">E'en tune your pipe and please yourselves<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With John o' Badenyon.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span></div></div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="THE_EWIE_WI_THE_CROOKIT_HORN" id="THE_EWIE_WI_THE_CROOKIT_HORN"></a>THE EWIE WI' THE CROOKIT HORN.</h3>
+
+
+<h4>I.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Were I but able to rehearse<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My Ewie's praise in proper verse,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I 'd sound it forth as loud and fierce<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As ever piper's drone could blaw;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Ewie wi' the crookit horn,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wha had kent her might hae sworn<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sic a Ewe was never born,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hereabout nor far awa';<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sic a Ewe was never born,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hereabout nor far awa'.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>II.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I never needed tar nor keil<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To mark her upo' hip or heel,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her crookit horn did as weel<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To ken her by amo' them a';<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She never threaten'd scab nor rot,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But keepit aye her ain jog-trot,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Baith to the fauld and to the cot,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Was never sweir to lead nor caw;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Baith to the fauld and to the cot, &amp;c.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>III.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Cauld nor hunger never dang her,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wind nor wet could never wrang her,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Anes she lay an ouk and langer<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Furth aneath a wreath o' snaw:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whan ither ewies lap the dyke,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And eat the kail, for a' the tyke,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My Ewie never play'd the like,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But tyc'd about the barn wa';<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My Ewie never play'd the like, &amp;c.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span></div></div>
+
+
+<h4>IV.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">A better or a thriftier beast<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nae honest man could weel hae wist,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For, silly thing, she never mist<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To hae ilk year a lamb or twa':<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The first she had I gae to Jock,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To be to him a kind o' stock,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And now the laddie has a flock<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O' mair nor thirty head ava';<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And now the laddie has a flock, &amp;c.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>V.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I lookit aye at even' for her,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Lest mishanter should come o'er her,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or the fowmart might devour her,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Gin the beastie bade awa;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My Ewie wi' the crookit horn,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Well deserved baith girse and corn,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sic a Ewe was never born,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hereabout nor far awa';<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sic a Ewe was never born, &amp;c.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>VI.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Yet last ouk, for a' my keeping,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">(Wha can speak it without <i>greeting</i>?)<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A villain cam' when I was sleeping,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sta' my Ewie, horn, and a':<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I sought her sair upo' the morn,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And down aneath a buss o' thorn<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I got my Ewie's crookit horn,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But my Ewie was awa';<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I got my Ewie's crookit horn, &amp;c.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span></div></div>
+
+
+<h4>VII.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">O! gin I had the loon that did it,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sworn I have as well as said it,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Though a' the warld should forbid it,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I wad gie his neck a thra':<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I never met wi' sic a turn<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As this sin' ever I was born,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My Ewie, wi' the crookit horn,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Silly Ewie, stown awa';<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My Ewie wi' the crookit horn, &amp;c.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>VIII.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">O! had she died o' crook or cauld,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As Ewies do when they grow auld,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It wad na been, by mony fauld,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sae sair a heart to nane o's a':<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For a' the claith that we hae worn,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Frae her and her's sae aften shorn,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The loss o' her we could hae born,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Had fair strae-death ta'en her awa';<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The loss o' her we could hae born, &amp;c.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>IX.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But thus, poor thing, to lose her life,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Aneath a bleedy villain's knife,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I 'm really fleyt that our guidwife<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Will never win aboon 't ava:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O! a' ye bards benorth Kinghorn,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Call your muses up and mourn,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Our Ewie wi' the crookit horn<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Stown frae 's, and fell'd and a'!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Our Ewie wi' the crookit horn, &amp;c.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span></div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="O_WHY_SHOULD_OLD_AGE_SO_MUCH" id="O_WHY_SHOULD_OLD_AGE_SO_MUCH"></a>O! WHY SHOULD OLD AGE SO MUCH
+WOUND US?</h3>
+
+<p class='center'><span class="smcap">Tune</span>&mdash;<i>"Dumbarton Drums."</i></p>
+
+
+<h4>I.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">O! why should old age so much wound us?<a name="FNanchor_2_2" id="FNanchor_2_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_2" class="fnanchor">[2]</a><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There is nothing in it all to confound us:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For how happy now am I,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With my old wife sitting by,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And our bairns and our oys all around us;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For how happy now am I, &amp;c.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>II.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">We began in the warld wi' naething,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And we 've jogg'd on, and toil'd for the ae thing;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We made use of what we had,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And our thankful hearts were glad,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When we got the bit meat and the claithing;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We made use of what we had, &amp;c.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>III.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">We have lived all our lifetime contented,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Since the day we became first acquainted:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It 's true we 've been but poor,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And we are so to this hour,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But we never yet repined or lamented;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It 's true we 've been but poor, &amp;c.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span></div></div>
+
+
+<h4>IV.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When we had any stock, we ne'er vauntit,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor did we hing our heads when we wantit;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But we always gave a share<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of the little we could spare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When it pleased a kind Heaven to grant it;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But we always gave a share, &amp;c.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>V.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">We never laid a scheme to be wealthy,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By means that were cunning or stealthy;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But we always had the bliss&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And what further could we wiss?&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To be pleased with ourselves, and be healthy;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But we always had the bliss, &amp;c.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>VI.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">What though we cannot boast of our guineas?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We have plenty of Jockies and Jeanies;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And these, I 'm certain, are<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">More desirable by far<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Than a bag full of poor yellow steinies;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And these, I am certain, are, &amp;c.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>VII.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">We have seen many wonder and ferly,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of changes that almost are yearly,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Among rich folks up and down,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Both in country and in town,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who now live but scrimply and barely;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Among rich folks up and down, &amp;c.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span></div></div>
+
+
+<h4>VIII.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Then why should people brag of prosperity?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A straiten'd life we see is no rarity;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Indeed, we 've been in want,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And our living 's been but scant,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet we never were reduced to need charity;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Indeed, we 've been in want, &amp;c.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>IX.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">In this house we first came together,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where we 've long been a father and mither;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And though not of stone and lime,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It will last us all our time;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And I hope we shall ne'er need anither;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And though not of stone and lime, &amp;c.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>X.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And when we leave this poor habitation,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We 'll depart with a good commendation;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We 'll go hand in hand, I wiss,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To a better house than this,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To make room for the next generation;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We 'll go hand in hand, I wiss, &amp;c.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Then why should old age so much wound us? &amp;c.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="STILL_IN_THE_WRONG" id="STILL_IN_THE_WRONG"></a>STILL IN THE WRONG.</h3>
+
+
+<h4>I.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">It has long been my fate to be thought in the <i>wrong</i>,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And my fate it continues to be;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The wise and the wealthy still make it their song,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the clerk and the cottar agree.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">There is nothing I do, and there 's nothing I say,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But some one or other thinks wrong;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And to please them I find there is no other way,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But do nothing, and still hold my tongue.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>II.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Says the free-thinking Sophist, "The times are refined<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In sense to a wondrous degree;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Your old-fashion'd faith does but fetter the mind,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And it 's <i>wrong</i> not to seek to be free."<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Says the sage Politician, "Your natural share<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of talents would raise you much higher,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Than thus to crawl on in your present low sphere,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And it 's <i>wrong</i> in you not to aspire."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>III.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Says the Man of the World, "Your dull stoic life<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is surely deserving of blame?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You have children to care for, as well as a wife,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And it 's <i>wrong</i> not to lay up for them."<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Says the fat Gormandiser, "To eat and to drink<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is the true <i>summum bonum</i> of man:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Life is nothing without it, whate'er you may think,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And it 's <i>wrong</i> not to live while you can."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>IV.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Says the new-made Divine, "Your old modes we reject,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor give ourselves trouble about them:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It is manners and dress that procure us respect,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And it 's <i>wrong</i> to look for it without them."<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Says the grave peevish Saint, in a fit of the spleen,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"Ah! me, but your manners are vile:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A parson that 's blythe is a shame to be seen,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And it 's <i>wrong</i> in you even to smile."<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span></div></div>
+
+
+<h4>V.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Says the Clown, when I tell him to do what he ought,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"Sir, whatever your character be,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To obey you in this I will never be brought,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And it 's <i>wrong</i> to be meddling with me."<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Says my Wife, when she wants this or that for the house,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"Our matters to ruin must go:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Your reading and writing is not worth a souse,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And it 's <i>wrong</i> to neglect the house so."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>VI.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Thus all judge of me by their taste or their wit,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And I 'm censured by old and by young,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who in one point agree, though in others they split,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That in something I 'm still in the <i>wrong</i>.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But let them say on to the end of the song,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It shall make no impression on me:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If to differ from such be to be in the <i>wrong</i>,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In the <i>wrong</i> I hope always to be.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="LIZZY_LIBERTY" id="LIZZY_LIBERTY"></a>LIZZY LIBERTY.</h3>
+
+<p class='center'><span class="smcap">Tune</span>&mdash;<i>"Tibbie Fowler i' the Glen."</i></p>
+
+
+<h4>I.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">There lives a lassie i' the braes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And Lizzy Liberty they ca' her,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When she has on her Sunday's claes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Ye never saw a lady brawer;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So a' the lads are wooing at her,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Courting her, but canna get her;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Bonny Lizzy Liberty, there 's ow'r mony wooing at her!<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span></div></div>
+
+
+<h4>II.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Her mither ware a tabbit mutch,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Her father was an honest dyker,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She 's a black-eyed wanton witch,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Ye winna shaw me mony like her:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So a' the lads are wooing at her,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Courting her, but canna get her;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Bonny Lizzy Liberty, wow, sae mony 's wooing at her!<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>III.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">A kindly lass she is, I 'm seer,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Has fowth o' sense and smeddum in her,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And nae a swankie far nor near,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">But tries wi' a' his might to win her:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They 're wooing at her, fain would hae her,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Courting her, but canna get her;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Bonny Lizzy Liberty, there 's ow'r mony wooing at her!<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>IV.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">For kindly though she be, nae doubt,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">She manna thole the marriage tether,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But likes to rove and rink about,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Like Highland cowt amo' the heather:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet a' the lads are wooing at her,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Courting her, but canna get her;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Bonny Lizzy Liberty, wow, sae mony 's wooing at her.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>V.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">It 's seven year, and some guid mair,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Syn Dutch Mynheer made courtship till her,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A merchant bluff and fu' o' care,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Wi' chuffy cheeks, and bags o' siller;<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">So Dutch Mynheer was wooing at her,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Courting her, but cudna get her;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Bonny Lizzy Liberty has ow'r mony wooing at her.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>VI.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Neist to him came Baltic John,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Stept up the brae, and leukit at her,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Syne wear his wa', wi' heavy moan,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And in a month or twa forgat her:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Baltic John was wooing at her,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Courting her, but cudna get her;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Filthy elf, she 's nae herself, wi' sae mony wooing at her.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>VII.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Syne after him cam' Yankie Doodle,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Frae hyne ayont the muckle water;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Though Yankie 's nae yet worth a boddle,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Wi' might and main he would be at her:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yankie Doodle 's wooing at her,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Courting her, but canna get her;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Bonny Lizzy Liberty, wow, sae mony 's wooing at her.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>VIII.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Now Monkey French is in a roar,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And swears that nane but he sall hae her,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Though he sud wade through bluid and gore,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">It 's nae the king sall keep him frae her:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So Monkey French is wooing at her,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Courting her, but canna get her;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Bonny Lizzy Liberty has ow'r mony wooing at her.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span></div></div>
+
+
+<h4>IX.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">For France, nor yet her Flanders' frien',<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Need na think that she 'll come to them;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They 've casten aff wi' a' their kin,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And grace and guid have flown frae them;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They 're wooing at her, fain wad hae her,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Courting her, but canna get her;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Bonny Lizzy Liberty, wow, sae mony 's wooing at her.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>X.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">A stately chiel they ca' John Bull<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Is unco thrang and glaikit wi' her;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And gin he cud get a' his wull,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">There 's nane can say what he wad gi'e her:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Johnny Bull is wooing at her,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Courting her, but canna get her;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Filthy Ted, she 'll never wed, as lang 's sae mony 's wooing at her.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>XI.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Even Irish Teague, ayont Belfast,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Wadna care to speir about her;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And swears, till he sall breathe his last,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">He 'll never happy be without her:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Irish Teague is wooing at her,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Courting her, but canna get her;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Bonny Lizzy Liberty has ow'r mony wooing at her.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>XII.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But Donald Scot 's the happy lad,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Though a' the lave sud try to rate him;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whan he steps up the brae sae glad,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">She disna ken maist whare to set him:<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">Donald Scot is wooing at her,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Courting her, will maybe get her;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Bonny Lizzy Liberty, wow, sae mony 's wooing at her.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>XIII.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Now, Donald, tak' a frien's advice&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">I ken fu' weel ye fain wad hae her;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As ye are happy, sae be wise,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And ha'd ye wi' a smackie frae her:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ye 're wooing at her, fain wad hae her,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Courting her, will maybe get her;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Bonny Lizzy Liberty, there 's ow'r mony wooing at her.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>XIV.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Ye 're weel, and wat'sna, lad, they 're sayin',<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Wi' getting leave to dwall aside her;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And gin ye had her a' your ain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Ye might na find it mows to guide her:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ye 're wooing at her, fain wad hae her,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Courting her, will maybe get her;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Cunning quean, she 's ne'er be mine, as lang 's sae mony 's wooing at her.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="THE_STIPENDLESS_PARSON" id="THE_STIPENDLESS_PARSON"></a>THE STIPENDLESS PARSON.</h3>
+
+<p class='center'><span class="smcap">Tune</span>&mdash;<i>"A Cobbler there was,"</i> &amp;c.</p>
+
+
+<h4>I.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">How happy a life does the Parson possess,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who would be no greater, nor fears to be less;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who depends on his book and his gown for support,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And derives no preferment from conclave or court!<br /></span>
+<span class="i18">Derry down, &amp;c.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span></div></div>
+
+
+<h4>II.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Without glebe or manse settled on him by law,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No stipend to sue for, nor vic'rage to draw;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In discharge of his office he holds him content,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With a croft and a garden, for which he pays rent.<br /></span>
+<span class="i18">Derry down, &amp;c.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>III.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">With a neat little cottage and furniture plain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And a spare room to welcome a friend now and then;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With a good-humour'd wife in his fortune to share,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And ease him at all times of family care.<br /></span>
+<span class="i18">Derry down, &amp;c.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>IV.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">With a few of the Fathers, the oldest and best,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And some modern extracts pick'd out from the rest;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With a Bible in Latin, and Hebrew, and Greek,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To afford him instruction each day of the week.<br /></span>
+<span class="i18">Derry down, &amp;c.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>V.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">What children he has, if any are given,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He thankfully trusts to the kindness of Heaven;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To religion and virtue he trains them while young,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And with such a provision he does them no wrong.<br /></span>
+<span class="i18">Derry down, &amp;c.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>VI.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">With labour below, and with help from above,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He cares for his flock, and is bless'd with their love:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Though his living, perhaps, in the main may be scant,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He is sure, while they have, that he 'll ne'er be in want.<br /></span>
+<span class="i18">Derry down, &amp;c.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span></div></div>
+
+
+<h4>VII.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">With no worldly projects nor hurries perplex'd,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He sits in his closet and studies his text;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And while he converses with Moses or Paul,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He envies not bishop, nor dean in his stall.<br /></span>
+<span class="i18">Derry down, &amp;c.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>VIII.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Not proud to the poor, nor a slave to the great,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Neither factious in church, nor pragmatic in state,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He keeps himself quiet within his own sphere,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And finds work sufficient in preaching and prayer.<br /></span>
+<span class="i18">Derry down, &amp;c.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>IX.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">In what little dealings he 's forced to transact,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He determines with plainness and candour to act;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the great point on which his ambition is set,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is to leave at the last neither riches nor debt.<br /></span>
+<span class="i18">Derry down, &amp;c.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>X.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Thus calmly he steps through the valley of life,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Unencumber'd with wealth, and a stranger to strife;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On the bustlings around him unmoved he can look,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And at home always pleased with his wife and his book.<br /></span>
+<span class="i18">Derry down, &amp;c.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>XI.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And when, in old age, he drops into the grave,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">This humble remembrance he wishes to have:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"By good men respected, by the evil oft tried,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Contented he lived, and lamented he died!"<br /></span>
+<span class="i18">Derry down, &amp;c.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span></div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="THE_MAN_OF_ROSS" id="THE_MAN_OF_ROSS"></a>THE MAN OF ROSS.</h3>
+
+<p class='center'><span class="smcap">Tune</span>&mdash;<i>"Miss Ross's Reel."</i></p>
+
+
+<h4>I.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When fops and fools together prate,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O'er punch or tea, of this or that,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What silly poor unmeaning chat<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Does all their talk engross!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A nobler theme employs my lays,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And thus my honest voice I raise<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In well-deserved strains to praise<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">The worthy Man of Ross.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>II.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">His lofty soul (would it were mine!)<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Scorns every selfish, low design,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And ne'er was known to repine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">At any earthly loss:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But still contented, frank, and free,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In every state, whate'er it be,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Serene and staid we always see<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">The worthy Man of Ross.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>III.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Let misers hug their worldly store,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And gripe and pinch to make it more;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Their gold and silver's shining ore<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">He counts it all but dross:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'Tis better treasure he desires;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A surer stock his passion fires,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And mild benevolence inspires<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">The worthy Man of Ross.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span></div>
+
+<h4>IV.</h4>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When want assails the widow's cot,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or sickness strikes the poor man's hut,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When blasting winds or foggy rot<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Augment the farmer's loss:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The sufferer straight knows where to go,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With all his wants and all his woe;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For glad experience leads him to<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">The worthy Man of Ross.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+
+<h4>V.</h4>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">This Man of Ross I 'll daily sing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With vocal note and lyric string,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And duly, when I 've drank the king,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">He 'll be my second toss.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">May Heaven its choicest blessings send<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On such a man, and such a friend;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And still may all that 's good attend<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">The worthy Man of Ross.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+
+<h4>VI.</h4>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Now, if you ask about his name,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And where he lives with such a fame,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Indeed, I 'll say you are to blame,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">For truly, <i>inter nos</i>,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'Tis what belongs to you and me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And all of high or low degree,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In every sphere to try to be<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">The worthy Man of Ross.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span></div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="A_SONG_ON_THE_TIMES" id="A_SONG_ON_THE_TIMES"></a>A SONG ON THE TIMES.</h3>
+
+<p class='center'><span class="smcap">Tune</span>&mdash;<i>"Broom of the Cowdenknows."</i></p>
+
+
+<h4>I.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When I began the world first,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It was not as 'tis now;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For all was plain and simple then,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And friends were kind and true:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh, the times, the weary, weary times!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The times that I now see;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I think the world 's all gone wrong,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From what it used to be.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>II.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">There were not then high capering heads,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Prick'd up from ear to ear;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And cloaks and caps were rarities,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For gentle folks to wear:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh, the times, the weary, weary times! &amp;c.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>III.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">There 's not an upstart mushroom now,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But what sets up for taste;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And not a lass in all the land,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But must be lady-dress'd:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh, the times, the weary, weary times! &amp;c.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>IV.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Our young men married then for love,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So did our lasses too;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And children loved their parents dear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As children ought to do:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh, the times, the weary, weary times! &amp;c.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span></div></div>
+
+
+<h4>V.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">For oh, the times are sadly changed&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A heavy change indeed!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For truth and friendship are no more,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And honesty is fled:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh, the times, the weary, weary times! &amp;c.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>VI.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">There 's nothing now prevails but pride,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Among both high and low;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And strife, and greed, and vanity,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is all that 's minded now:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh, the times, the weary, weary times! &amp;c.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>VII.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When I look through the world wide,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How times and fashions go,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It draws the tears from both my eyes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And fills my heart with woe:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh, the times, the weary, weary times!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The times that I now see;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I wish the world were at an end,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For it will not mend for me!<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span></div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3><a name="WILLIAM_CAMERON" id="WILLIAM_CAMERON"></a>WILLIAM CAMERON.</h3>
+
+
+<p><span class="smcap">William Cameron</span>, minister of Kirknewton, in the
+county of Edinburgh, was educated in Marischal College,
+Aberdeen, where he was a pupil of Dr Beattie,
+"who ever after entertained for him much esteem." A
+letter, addressed to him by this eminent professor, in
+1774, has been published by Sir William Forbes;<a name="FNanchor_3_3" id="FNanchor_3_3"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_3" class="fnanchor">[3]</a>
+and his name is introduced at the beginning of Dr
+Beattie's "Letter to the Rev. Hugh Blair, D.D., on the
+Improvement of Psalmody in Scotland. 1778, 8vo:"&mdash;"The
+message you lately sent me, by my friend Mr
+Cameron, has determined me to give you my thoughts
+at some length upon the subject of it."</p>
+
+<p>He died in his manse, on the 17th of November
+1811, in the 60th year of his age, and the 26th year of
+his ministry. He was a considerable writer of verses,
+and his compositions are generally of a respectable
+order. He was the author of a "Collection of Poems,"
+printed at Edinburgh in 1790, in a duodecimo volume;
+and in 1781, along with the celebrated John Logan
+and Dr Morrison, minister of Canisbay, he contributed
+towards the formation of a collection of Paraphrases
+from Scripture, which, being approved of by the Ge<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span>neral
+Assembly, are still used in public worship in
+the Church of Scotland. A posthumous volume of
+verses by Mr Cameron, entitled "Poems on Several
+Occasions," was published by subscription in 1813&mdash;8vo,
+pp. 132. The following song, which was composed
+by Mr Cameron, on the restoration of the forfeited
+estates by Act of Parliament, in 1784, is copied from
+Johnson's "Musical Museum." It affords a very favourable
+specimen of the author's poetical talents.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="AS_OER_THE_HIGHLAND_HILLS_I_HIED" id="AS_OER_THE_HIGHLAND_HILLS_I_HIED"></a>AS O'ER THE HIGHLAND HILLS I HIED.</h3>
+
+<p class='center'><span class="smcap">Tune</span>&mdash;<i>"As I came in by Auchindoun."</i></p>
+
+
+<h4>I.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">As o'er the Highland hills I hied,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Camerons in array I spied;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Lochiel's proud standard waving wide,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In all its ancient glory.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The martial pipe loud pierced the sky,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The bard arose, resounding high<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Their valour, faith, and loyalty,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That shine in Scottish story.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">No more the trumpet calls to arms,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Awaking battle's fierce alarms,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But every hero's bosom warms<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With songs of exultation.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While brave Lochiel at length regains,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Through toils of war, his native plains,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And, won by glorious wounds, attains<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His high paternal station.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Let now the voice of joy prevail,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And echo wide from hill to vale;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ye warlike clans, arise and hail<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Your laurell'd chiefs returning.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O'er every mountain, every isle,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Let peace in all her lustre smile,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And discord ne'er her day defile<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With sullen shades of mourning.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">M'Leod, M'Donald, join the strain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">M'Pherson, Fraser, and M'Lean;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Through all your bounds let gladness reign,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Both prince and patriot praising;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whose generous bounty richly pours<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The streams of plenty round your shores;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To Scotia's hills their pride restores,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her faded honours raising.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Let all the joyous banquet share,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor e'er let Gothic grandeur dare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With scowling brow, to overbear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A vassal's right invading.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Let Freedom's conscious sons disdain<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To crowd his fawning, timid train,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor even own his haughty reign,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Their dignity degrading.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Ye northern chiefs, whose rage unbroke<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Has still repell'd the tyrant's shock;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who ne'er have bow'd beneath his yoke,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With servile base prostration;&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Let each now train his trusty band,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'Gainst foreign foes alone to stand,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With undivided heart and hand,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For Freedom, King, and Nation.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span></div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="MRS_JOHN_HUNTER" id="MRS_JOHN_HUNTER"></a>MRS JOHN HUNTER.</h2>
+
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Anne Home</span> was born in the year 1742. She was the
+eldest daughter of Robert Home, of Greenlaw, in Berwickshire,
+surgeon of Burgoyne's Regiment of Light
+Horse, and afterwards physician in Savoy. By contracting
+an early marriage, in which affection overcame
+more prudential considerations, both her parents gave
+offence to their relations, who refused to render them
+pecuniary assistance. Her father, though connected
+with many families of rank, and himself the son of a
+landowner, was consequently obliged to depend, in the
+early part of his career, on his professional exertions for
+the support of his family. His circumstances appear
+subsequently to have been more favourable. In July
+1771, Miss Home became the wife of John Hunter, the
+distinguished anatomist, to whom she bore two children.
+She afforded evidence of her early poetical talent, by
+composing, before she had completed her twenty-third
+year, the song beginning, "Adieu! ye streams that
+smoothly glide." This appeared in the <i>Lark</i>, an
+Edinburgh periodical, in the year 1765. In 1802, she
+published a collection of her poems, in an octavo volume,
+which she inscribed to her son, John Banks Hunter.</p>
+
+<p>During the lifetime of her distinguished husband,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span>
+Mrs Hunter was in the habit of receiving at her table,
+and sharing in the conversation of, the chief literary
+persons of her time. Her evening <i>conversazioni</i> were
+frequented by many of the more learned, as well as
+fashionable persons in the metropolis. On the death of
+her husband, which took place in 1793, she sought
+greater privacy, though she still continued to reside in
+London. By those who were admitted to her intimacy,
+she was not more respected for her superior talents and
+intelligence, than held in esteem for her unaffected simplicity
+of manners. She was the life of her social
+parties, sustaining the happiness of the hour by her
+elegant conversation, and encouraging the diffident by
+her approbation. Amiable in disposition, she was possessed
+of a beautiful countenance and a handsome person.
+She wrote verses with facility, but she sought no
+distinction as a poet, preferring to be regarded as a good
+housewife and an agreeable member of society. In her
+latter years, she obtained amusement in resuming the
+song-writing habits of her youth, and in corresponding
+with her more intimate friends. She likewise derived
+pleasure in the cultivation of music: she played with
+skill, and sung with singular grace.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs Hunter died at London, on the 7th January
+1821, after a lingering illness. Several of her lyrics
+had for some years appeared in the collections of national
+poetry. Those selected for the present work have
+long maintained a wide popularity. The songs evince
+a delicacy of thought, combined with a force and sweetness
+of expression.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="THE_INDIAN_DEATH-SONG" id="THE_INDIAN_DEATH-SONG"></a>THE INDIAN DEATH-SONG.</h3>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The sun sets in night, and the stars shun the day,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But glory remains when their lights fade away.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Begin, ye tormentors, your threats are in vain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For the son of Alknomook will never complain.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Remember the arrows he shot from his bow;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Remember your chiefs by his hatchet laid low.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Why so slow? Do you wait till I shrink from the pain?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No! the son of Alknomook shall never complain.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Remember the wood where in ambush we lay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the scalps which we bore from your nation away:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now the flame rises fast; ye exult in my pain;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But the son of Alknomook can never complain.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I go to the land where my father is gone;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His ghost shall rejoice in the fame of his son.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Death comes, like a friend, to relieve me from pain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And thy son, O Alknomook! has scorn'd to complain.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="MY_MOTHER_BIDS_ME_BIND_MY_HAIR" id="MY_MOTHER_BIDS_ME_BIND_MY_HAIR"></a>MY MOTHER BIDS ME BIND MY HAIR.</h3>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">My mother bids me bind my hair<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With bands of rosy hue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Tie up my sleeves with ribbons rare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And lace my boddice blue.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"For why," she cries, "sit still and weep,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While others dance and play?"<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Alas! I scarce can go or creep,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While Lubin is away.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">'Tis sad to think the days are gone,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When those we love were near;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I sit upon this mossy stone,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And sigh when none can hear.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And while I spin my flaxen thread,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And sing my simple lay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The village seems asleep or dead,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now Lubin is away.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="THE_FLOWERS_OF_THE_FOREST4" id="THE_FLOWERS_OF_THE_FOREST4"></a>THE FLOWERS OF THE FOREST.<a name="FNanchor_4_4" id="FNanchor_4_4"></a><a href="#Footnote_4_4" class="fnanchor">[4]</a></h3>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Adieu! ye streams that smoothly glide,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Through mazy windings o'er the plain;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I 'll in some lonely cave reside,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And ever mourn my faithful swain.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Flower of the forest was my love,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Soft as the sighing summer's gale,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Gentle and constant as the dove,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Blooming as roses in the vale.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Alas! by Tweed my love did stray,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For me he search'd the banks around;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But, ah! the sad and fatal day,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My love, the pride of swains, was drown'd.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Now droops the willow o'er the stream;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Pale stalks his ghost in yonder grove;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Dire fancy paints him in my dream;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Awake, I mourn my hopeless love.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="THE_SEASON_COMES_WHEN_FIRST_WE_MET" id="THE_SEASON_COMES_WHEN_FIRST_WE_MET"></a>THE SEASON COMES WHEN FIRST WE MET.</h3>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The season comes when first we met,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But you return no more;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Why cannot I the days forget,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which time can ne'er restore?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O! days too sweet, too bright to last,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Are you, indeed, for ever past?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The fleeting shadows of delight,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In memory I trace;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In fancy stop their rapid flight,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And all the past replace;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But, ah! I wake to endless woes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And tears the fading visions close!<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span></div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="OH_TUNEFUL_VOICE_I_STILL_DEPLORE" id="OH_TUNEFUL_VOICE_I_STILL_DEPLORE"></a>OH, TUNEFUL VOICE! I STILL DEPLORE.</h3>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Oh, tuneful voice! I still deplore<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Those accents which, though heard no more,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Still vibrate in my heart;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In echo's cave I long to dwell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And still would hear the sad farewell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When we were doom'd to part.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Bright eyes! O that the task were mine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To guard the liquid fires that shine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And round your orbits play&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To watch them with a vestal's care,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And feed with smiles a light so fair,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That it may ne'er decay!<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="DEAR_TO_MY_HEART_AS_LIFES_WARM" id="DEAR_TO_MY_HEART_AS_LIFES_WARM"></a>DEAR TO MY HEART AS LIFE'S WARM
+STREAM.<a name="FNanchor_5_5" id="FNanchor_5_5"></a><a href="#Footnote_5_5" class="fnanchor">[5]</a></h3>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Dear to my heart as life's warm stream,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which animates this mortal clay;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For thee I court the waking dream,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And deck with smiles the future day;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And thus beguile the present pain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With hopes that we shall meet again!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Yet will it be as when the past<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Twined every joy, and care, and thought,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And o'er our minds one mantle cast,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of kind affections finely wrought.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">Ah, no! the groundless hope were vain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For so we ne'er can meet again!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">May he who claims thy tender heart,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Deserve its love as I have done!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For, kind and gentle as thou art,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If so beloved, thou 'rt fairly won.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Bright may the sacred torch remain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And cheer thee till we meet again!<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="THE_LOT_OF_THOUSANDS" id="THE_LOT_OF_THOUSANDS"></a>THE LOT OF THOUSANDS.</h3>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When hope lies dead within the heart,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By secret sorrow close conceal'd,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We shrink lest looks or words impart<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What must not be reveal'd.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">'Tis hard to smile when one would weep,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To speak when one would silent be;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To wake when one should wish to sleep,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And wake to agony.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Yet such the lot by thousands cast,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who wander in this world of care,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And bend beneath the bitter blast,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To save them from despair.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But Nature waits her guests to greet,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where disappointments cannot come,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Time guides, with unerring feet,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The weary wanderers home.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span></div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="ALEXANDER_DUKE_OF_GORDON" id="ALEXANDER_DUKE_OF_GORDON"></a>ALEXANDER, DUKE OF GORDON.</h2>
+
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Alexander</span>, the fourth Duke of Gordon, was born in
+the year 1743, and died on the 17th of January 1827,
+in the eighty-fourth year of his age. Chiefly remembered
+as a kind patron of the poet Burns, his name
+is likewise entitled to a place in the national minstrelsy
+as the author of an excellent version of the
+often-parodied song, "Cauld Kail in Aberdeen." Of
+this song, the first words, written to an older tune,
+appeared in the second volume of Herd's "Collection,"
+in 1776. These begin&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Cauld kail in Aberdeen,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And castocks in Strabogie;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But yet I fear they 'll cook o'er soon,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And never warm the cogie."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>The song is anonymous, as is the version, first published
+in Dale's "Scottish Songs," beginning&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"There 's cauld kail in Aberdeen,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And castocks in Strabogie,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where ilka lad maun hae his lass,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But I maun hae my cogie."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>A third version, distinct from that inserted in the text,
+was composed by William Reid, a bookseller in Glasgow,
+who died in 1831. His song is scarcely known.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span>
+The Duke's song, with which Burns expressed himself
+as being "charmed," was first published in the second
+volume of Johnson's "Musical Museum." It is not
+only gay and animating, but has the merit of being free
+of blemishes in want of refinement, which affect the
+others. The "Bogie" celebrated in the song, it may
+be remarked, is a river in Aberdeenshire, which, rising
+in the parish of Auchindoir, discharges its waters into
+the Deveron, a little distance below the town of Huntly.
+It gives its name to the extensive and rich valley of
+Strathbogie, through which it proceeds.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="CAULD_KAIL_IN_ABERDEEN" id="CAULD_KAIL_IN_ABERDEEN"></a>CAULD KAIL IN ABERDEEN.</h3>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">There 's cauld kail in Aberdeen,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And castocks in Strabogie;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Gin I hae but a bonnie lass,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ye 're welcome to your cogie.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And ye may sit up a' the night,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And drink till it be braid daylight;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Gi'e me a lass baith clean and tight,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To dance the reel o' Bogie.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">In cotillions the French excel,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">John Bull loves country dances;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Spaniards dance fandangoes well;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Mynheer an all'mande prances;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In foursome reels the Scots delight,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">At threesomes they dance wondrous light,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But twasomes ding a' out o' sight,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Danced to the reel o' Bogie.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Come, lads, and view your partners weel,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wale each a blythesome rogie;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I'll tak this lassie to mysel',<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She looks sae keen and vogie.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now, piper lads, bang up the spring,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The country fashion is the thing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To pree their mou's ere we begin<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To dance the reel o' Bogie.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Now ilka lad has got a lass,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Save yon auld doited fogie,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And ta'en a fling upon the grass,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As they do in Strabogie.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But a' the lasses look sae fain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We canna think oursel's to hain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For they maun hae their come again,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To dance the reel o' Bogie.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Now a' the lads hae done their best,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Like true men o' Strabogie,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We 'll stop a while and tak' a rest,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And tipple out a cogie.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Come now, my lads, and tak your glass,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And try ilk ither to surpass,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In wishing health to every lass,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To dance the reel o' Bogie.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span></div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="MRS_GRANT_OF_CARRON" id="MRS_GRANT_OF_CARRON"></a>MRS GRANT OF CARRON.</h2>
+
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs Grant</span> of Carron, the reputed author of one song,
+which has long maintained a favoured place, was a
+native of Aberlour, on the banks of the Spey, in the
+county of Banff. She was born about the year 1745,
+and was twice married&mdash;first, to her cousin, Mr Grant of
+Carron, near Elchies, on the river Spey, about the year
+1763; and, secondly, to Dr Murray, a physician in
+Bath. She died at Bath about the year 1814.</p>
+
+<p>In his correspondence with George Thomson, Burns,
+alluding to the song of Mrs Grant, "Roy's Wife,"
+remarks that he had in his possession "the original words
+of a song for the air in the handwriting of the lady who
+composed it," which, he adds, "are superior to any
+edition of the song which the public has seen." He
+subsequently composed an additional version himself,
+beginning, "Canst thou leave me thus, my Katie?"
+but this, like others of the bard's conversions of Scottish
+songs into an English dress, did not become popular.
+The verses by his female friend, in which the lady is
+made to be the sufferer by misplaced affection, and
+commencing, "Stay, my Willie, yet believe me," though
+published, remain likewise in obscurity. "Roy's Wife"
+was originally written to an old tune called the "Ruf<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span>fian's
+Rant," but this melody is now known by the
+name of its favourite words. The sentiment of the song
+is peculiarly pleasing. The rejected lover begins by
+loudly complaining of his wrongs, and the broken
+assurances of his former sweetheart: then he suddenly
+recalls what were her good qualities; and the recollection
+of these causes him to forgive her marrying another,
+and even still to extend towards her his warmest
+sympathies.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="ROYS_WIFE_OF_ALDIVALLOCH" id="ROYS_WIFE_OF_ALDIVALLOCH"></a>ROY'S WIFE OF ALDIVALLOCH.</h3>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Roy's wife of Aldivalloch,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Roy's wife of Aldivalloch,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wat ye how she cheated me<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As I cam' o'er the braes of Balloch!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">She vow'd, she swore she wad be mine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She said she lo'ed me best o' onie;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But, ah! the fickle, faithless quean,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She 's ta'en the carl, and left her Johnnie!<br /></span>
+<span class="i13">Roy's wife, &amp;c.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Oh, she was a canty quean,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An' weel could dance the Hieland walloch!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How happy I, had she been mine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or I been Roy of Aldivalloch!<br /></span>
+<span class="i13">Roy's wife, &amp;c.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Her hair sae fair, her e'en sae clear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her wee bit mou' sae sweet and bonnie!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To me she ever will be dear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Though she's for ever left her Johnnie!<br /></span>
+<span class="i13">Roy's wife, &amp;c.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span></div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="ROBERT_COUPER_MD" id="ROBERT_COUPER_MD"></a>ROBERT COUPER, M.D.</h2>
+
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Dr Couper</span> was born in the parish of Sorbie, in Wigtonshire,
+on the 22d of September 1750. His father
+rented the farm of Balsier in that parish. With a view
+towards the ministry in the Scottish Church, he proceeded
+to the University of Glasgow in 1769; but being
+deprived of both his parents by death before the completion
+of the ordinary period of academical study, and
+his pecuniary means being limited, he quitted the country
+for America, where he became tutor to a family in
+Virginia. He now contemplated taking orders in the
+Episcopal Church, but on the outbreak of the War of
+Independence in 1776 he returned to Britain without
+fulfilling this intention. He resumed his studies at
+Glasgow preparatory to his seeking a surgeon's diploma;
+and he afterwards established himself as a medical practitioner
+in Newton-Stewart, a considerable village in his
+native county. From this place he removed to Fochabers,
+about the year 1788, on being recommended, by
+his friend Dr Hamilton, Professor of Anatomy at Glasgow,
+as physician to the Duke of Gordon. Before
+entering on this new sphere of practice, he took the
+degree of M.D. At Fochabers he remained till the year
+1806, when he again returned to the south. He died at<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span>
+Wigton on the 18th January 1818. From a MS. Life
+of Dr Couper, in the possession of a gentleman in Wigton,
+and communicated to Dr Murray, author of "The
+Literary History of Galloway," these leading events of
+Dr Couper's life were first published by Mr Laing, in
+his "Additional Illustrations to the Scots Musical Museum,"
+vol. iv. p. 513.</p>
+
+<p>Dr Couper published "Poetry, chiefly in the Scottish
+Language" (Inverness, 1804), 2 vols. 12mo. Among
+some rubbish, and much tawdry versification, there is
+occasional power, which, however, is insufficient to compensate
+for the general inferiority. There are only a
+few songs, but these are superior to the poems; and
+those following are not unworthy of a place among the
+modern national minstrelsy.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="KINRARA" id="KINRARA"></a>KINRARA.</h3>
+
+<p class='center'><span class="smcap">Tune</span>&mdash;<i>"Neil Gow."</i></p>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Red gleams the sun on yon hill-tap,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The dew sits on the gowan;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Deep murmurs through her glens the Spey,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Around Kinrara rowan.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where art thou, fairest, kindest lass?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Alas! wert thou but near me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thy gentle soul, thy melting eye,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Would ever, ever cheer me.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The lav'rock sings among the clouds,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The lambs they sport so cheerie,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And I sit weeping by the birk:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O where art thou, my dearie?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Aft may I meet the morning dew,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Lang greet till I be weary;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thou canna, winna, gentle maid!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thou canna be my dearie.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="THE_SHEELING" id="THE_SHEELING"></a>THE SHEELING.</h3>
+
+<p class='center'><span class="smcap">Tune</span>&mdash;<i>"The Mucking o' Geordie's Byre."</i></p>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Oh, grand bounds the deer o'er the mountain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And smooth skims the hare o'er the plain;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">At noon, the cool shade by the fountain<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is sweet to the lass and her swain.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">The ev'ning sits down dark and dreary;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh, yon 's the loud joys of the ha';<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The laird sings his dogs and his dearie&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh, he kens na his singin' ava.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But oh, my dear lassie, when wi' thee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What 's the deer and the maukin to me?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The storm soughin' wild drives me to thee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the plaid shelters baith me and thee.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The wild warld then may be reeling,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Pride and riches may lift up their e'e;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My plaid haps us baith in the sheeling&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That 's a' to my lassie and me.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="THE_EWE-BUGHTS_MARION6" id="THE_EWE-BUGHTS_MARION6"></a>THE EWE-BUGHTS, MARION.<a name="FNanchor_6_6" id="FNanchor_6_6"></a><a href="#Footnote_6_6" class="fnanchor">[6]</a></h3>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Oh, mind ye the ewe-bughts, my Marion?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It was ther I forgather'd wi' thee;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The sun smiled sweet ower the mountain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And saft sough'd the leaf on the tree.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Thou wast fair, thou wast bonnie, my Marion,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And lovesome thy rising breast-bane;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The dew sat in gems ower thy ringlets,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By the thorn when we were alane.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">There we loved, there thou promised, my Marion,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thy soul&mdash;a' thy beauties were mine;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Crouse we skipt to the ha' i' the gloamin',<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But few were my slumbers and thine.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Fell war tore me lang frae thee, Marion,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Lang wat'ry and red was my e'e;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The pride o' the field but inflamed me<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To return mair worthy o' thee.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Oh, aye art thou lovely, my Marion,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thy heart bounds in kindness to me;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And here, oh, here is my bosom,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That languish'd, my Marion, for thee.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span></div></div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="LADY_ANNE_BARNARD" id="LADY_ANNE_BARNARD"></a>LADY ANNE BARNARD.</h2>
+
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Lady Anne Lindsay</span> was the eldest of a family of
+eight sons and three daughters, born to James, Earl of
+Balcarres, by his spouse, Anne Dalrymple, a daughter
+of Sir Robert Dalrymple, of Castleton, Bart. She was
+born at Balcarres, in Fife, on the 8th of December 1750.
+Inheriting a large portion of the shrewdness long possessed
+by the old family of Lindsay, and a share of
+talent from her mother, who was a person of singular
+energy, though somewhat capricious in temper, Lady
+Anne evinced, at an early age, an uncommon amount of
+sagacity. Fortunate in having her talents well directed,
+and naturally inclined towards the acquisition of learning,
+she soon began to devote herself to useful reading,
+and even to literary composition. The highly popular
+ballad of "Auld Robin Gray" was written when she
+had only attained her twenty-first year. According to
+her own narrative, communicated to Sir Walter Scott,
+she had experienced loneliness on the marriage of her
+younger sister, who accompanied her husband to London,
+and had sought relief from a state of solitude by
+attempting the composition of song. An old Scottish<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span>
+melody,<a name="FNanchor_7_7" id="FNanchor_7_7"></a><a href="#Footnote_7_7" class="fnanchor">[7]</a> sung by an eccentric female, an attendant on
+Lady Balcarres, was connected with words unsuitable to
+the plaintive nature of the air; and, with the design of
+supplying the defect, she formed the idea of writing
+"Auld Robin Gray." The hero of the ballad was the
+old herdsman at Balcarres. To the members of her
+own family Lady Anne only communicated her new
+ballad&mdash;scrupulously concealing the fact of her authorship
+from others, "perceiving the shyness it created in
+those who could write nothing."</p>
+
+<p>While still in the bloom of youth, the Earl of Balcarres
+died, and the Dowager Countess having taken up
+her residence in Edinburgh, Lady Anne experienced
+increased means of acquainting herself with the world of
+letters. At her mother's residence she met many of the
+literary persons of consideration in the northern metropolis,
+including such men as Lord Monboddo, David
+Hume, and Henry Mackenzie. To comfort her sister,
+Lady Margaret Fordyce, who was now a widow, she
+subsequently removed to London, where she formed the
+acquaintance of the principal personages then occupying
+the literary and political arena, such as Burke, Sheridan,
+Dundas, and Windham. She also became known to
+the Prince of Wales, who continued to entertain for her
+the highest respect. In 1793, she married Andrew
+Barnard, Esq., son of the Bishop of Limerick, and
+afterwards secretary, under Lord Macartney, to the
+colony at the Cape of Good Hope. She accompanied
+her husband to the Cape, and had meditated a voyage
+to New South Wales, that she might minister, by her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span>
+benevolent counsels, towards the reformation of the
+convicts there exiled. On the death of her husband in
+1807, she again resided with her widowed sister, the
+Lady Margaret, till the year 1812, when, on the marriage
+of her sister to Sir James Burges, she occupied a
+house of her own, and continued to reside in Berkeley
+Square till the period of her death, which took place on
+the 6th of May 1825.</p>
+
+<p>To entire rectitude of principle, amiability of manners,
+and kindliness of heart, Anne Barnard added the
+more substantial, and, in females, the more uncommon
+quality of eminent devotedness to intellectual labour.
+Literature had been her favourite pursuit from childhood,
+and even in advanced life, when her residence
+was the constant resort of her numerous relatives, she
+contrived to find leisure for occasional literary <i>r&eacute;unions</i>,
+while her forenoons were universally occupied in mental
+improvement. She maintained a correspondence with
+several of her brilliant contemporaries, and, in her more
+advanced years, composed an interesting narrative of
+family Memoirs. She was skilled in the use of the
+pencil, and sketched scenery with effect. In conversation
+she was acknowledged to excel; and her stories<a name="FNanchor_8_8" id="FNanchor_8_8"></a><a href="#Footnote_8_8" class="fnanchor">[8]</a>
+and anecdotes were a source of delight to her friends.
+She was devotedly pious, and singularly benevolent:
+she was liberal in sentiment, charitable to the indigent,
+and sparing of the feelings of others. Every circle was
+charmed by her presence; by her condescension she
+inspired the diffident; and she banished dulness by the
+brilliancy of her humour. Her countenance, it should<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span>
+be added, wore a pleasant and animated expression, and
+her figure was modelled with the utmost elegance of
+symmetry and grace. Her sister, Lady Margaret Fordyce,
+was eminently beautiful.</p>
+
+<p>The popularity obtained by the ballad of "Auld
+Robin Gray" has seldom been exceeded in the history
+of any other metrical composition. It was sung in every
+fashionable circle, as well as by the ballad-singers, from
+Land's-end to John o' Groat's; was printed in every
+collection of national songs, and drew tears from our
+military countrymen both in America and India. With
+the exception of Pinkerton, every writer on Scottish
+poetry and song has awarded it a tribute of commendation.
+"The elegant and accomplished authoress," says
+Ritson, "has, in this beautiful production, to all that
+tenderness and simplicity for which the Scottish song
+has been so much celebrated, united a delicacy of expression
+which it never before attained." "'Auld Robin
+Gray,'" says Sir Walter Scott, "is that real pastoral
+which is worth all the dialogues which Corydon and
+Phillis have had together, from the days of Theocritus
+downwards."</p>
+
+<p>During a long lifetime, till within two years of her
+death, Lady Anne Barnard resisted every temptation to
+declare herself the author of the popular ballad, thus
+evincing her determination not to have the secret wrested
+from her till she chose to divulge it. Some of those
+inducements may be enumerated. The extreme popularity
+of the ballad might have proved sufficient in itself
+to justify the disclosure; but, apart from this consideration,
+a very fine tune had been put to it by a doctor of
+music;<a name="FNanchor_9_9" id="FNanchor_9_9"></a><a href="#Footnote_9_9" class="fnanchor">[9]</a> a romance had been founded upon it by a man<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span>
+of eminence; it was made the subject of a play, of
+an opera, and of a pantomime; it had been claimed by
+others; a sequel had been written to it by some scribbler,
+who professed to have composed the whole ballad;
+it had been assigned an antiquity far beyond the author's
+time; the Society of Antiquaries had made it the subject
+of investigation; and the author had been advertised
+for in the public prints, a reward being offered for
+the discovery. Never before had such general interest
+been exhibited respecting any composition in Scottish
+verse.</p>
+
+<p>In the "Pirate," published in 1823, the author of "Waverley"
+had compared the condition of Minna to that of
+Jeanie Gray, in the words of Lady Anne, in a sequel
+which she had published to the original ballad:&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Nae langer she wept, her tears were a' spent;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Despair it was come, and she thought it content;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She thought it content, but her cheek it grew pale,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And she droop'd like a snowdrop broke down by the hail!"<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>At length, in her seventy-third year, and upwards of
+half a century after the period of its composition, the
+author voluntarily made avowal of the authorship of the
+ballad and its sequel. She wrote to Sir Walter Scott,
+with whom she was acquainted, requesting him to
+inform his <i>personal friend</i>, the author of "Waverley,"
+that she was indeed the author. She enclosed a copy to
+Sir Walter, written in her own hand; and, with her
+consent, in the course of the following year, he printed
+"Auld Robin Gray" as a contribution to the Bannatyne
+Club.</p>
+
+<p>The second part has not acquired such decided popularity,
+and it has not often been published with it in
+former Collections. Of the fact of its inequality, the
+accomplished author was fully aware: she wrote it<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span>
+simply to gratify the desire of her venerable mother,
+who often wished to know how "the unlucky business
+of Jeanie and Jamie ended." The Countess, it may be
+remarked, was much gratified by the popularity of the
+ballad; and though she seems, out of respect to her
+daughter's feelings, to have retained the secret, she could
+not resist the frequent repetition of it to her friends.</p>
+
+<p>In the character of Lady Anne Barnard, the defective
+point was a certain want of decision, which not only led
+to her declining many distinguished and advantageous
+offers for her hand, but tended, in some measure, to
+deprive her of posthumous fame. Illustrative of the
+latter fact, it has been recorded that, having entrusted to
+Sir Walter Scott a volume of lyrics, composed by herself
+and by others of the noble house of Lindsay, with
+permission to give it to the world, she withdrew her
+consent after the compositions had been printed in a
+quarto volume, and were just on the eve of being published.
+The copies of the work, which was entitled
+"Lays of the Lindsays," appear to have been destroyed.
+One lyric only has been recovered, beginning, "Why
+tarries my love?" It is printed as the composition of
+Lady Anne Barnard, in a note appended to the latest
+edition of Johnson's "Musical Museum," by Mr C. K.
+Sharpe, who transcribed it from the <i>Scots Magazine</i> for
+May 1805. The popular song, "Logie o' Buchan,"
+sometimes attributed to Lady Anne in the Collections,
+did not proceed from her pen, but was composed
+by George Halket, parochial schoolmaster of
+Rathen, in Aberdeenshire, about the middle of the last
+century.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="AULD_ROBIN_GRAY" id="AULD_ROBIN_GRAY"></a>AULD ROBIN GRAY.</h3>
+
+<h4><span class="smcap">Part I.</span></h4>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When the sheep are in the fauld, and the kye 's come hame,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And a' the warld to rest are gane,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The waes o' my heart fa' in showers frae my e'e,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Unkent by my gudeman, wha sleeps sound by me.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Young Jamie lo'ed me weel, and he sought me for his bride,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But saving a crown-piece, he had naething beside;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To make the crown a pound, my Jamie gaed to sea,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the crown and the pound they were baith for me.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">He hadna been gane a twelvemonth and a day,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When my father brake his arm, and the cow was stown away;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My mither she fell sick&mdash;my Jamie at the sea;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And auld Robin Gray came a-courting me.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">My father couldna wark, and my mither couldna spin;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I toil'd day and night, but their bread I couldna win;&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Auld Rob maintain'd them baith, and, wi' tears in his e'e,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Said, "Jeanie, oh, for their sakes, will ye no marry me?"<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">My heart it said na, and I look'd for Jamie back;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But hard blew the winds, and his ship was a wrack;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The ship was a wrack&mdash;why didna Jamie dee?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or why am I spared to cry, Wae is me?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">My father urged me sair&mdash;my mither didna speak;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But she look'd in my face till my heart was like to break;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They gied him my hand&mdash;my heart was in the sea&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And so Robin Gray he was gudeman to me.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I hadna been his wife a week but only four,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When, mournfu' as I sat on the stane at my door,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I saw my Jamie's ghaist, for I couldna think it he,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Till he said, "I'm come hame, love, to marry thee."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Oh, sair, sair did we greet, and mickle say of a';<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I gied him a kiss, and bade him gang awa';&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I wish that I were dead, but I'm nae like to dee;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For though my heart is broken, I'm but young, wae is me!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I gang like a ghaist, and carena much to spin;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I darena think o' Jamie, for that wad be a sin;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But I'll do my best a gude wife to be,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For oh, Robin Gray, he is kind to me!<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4><span class="smcap"><a name="Part_II" id="Part_II"></a>Part II.</span></h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The spring had pass'd over, 'twas summer nae mair,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And, trembling, were scatter'd the leaves in the air;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"Oh, winter," cried Jeanie, "we kindly agree,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For wae looks the sun when he shines upon me."<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Nae langer she wept, her tears were a' spent;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Despair it was come, and she thought it content;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She thought it content, but her cheek was grown pale,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And she droop'd like a snow-drop broke down by the hail.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Her father was sad, and her mother was wae,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But silent and thoughtfu' was auld Robin Gray;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He wander'd his lane, and his face was as lean<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As the side of a brae where the torrents have been.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">He gaed to his bed, but nae physic would take,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And often he said, "It is best, for her sake!"<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While Jeanie supported his head as he lay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The tears trickled down upon auld Robin Gray.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Oh, greet nae mair, Jeanie!" said he, wi' a groan;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"I 'm nae worth your sorrow&mdash;the truth maun be known;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Send round for your neighbours&mdash;my hour it draws near,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And I 've that to tell that it 's fit a' should hear.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"I 've wrang'd her," he said, "but I kent it o'er late;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I 've wrang'd her, and sorrow is speeding my date;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But a 's for the best, since my death will soon free<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A faithfu' young heart, that was ill match'd wi' me.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"I lo'ed and I courted her mony a day,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The auld folks were for me, but still she said nay;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I kentna o' Jamie, nor yet o' her vow;&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In mercy forgi'e me, 'twas I stole the cow!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"I cared not for crummie, I thought but o' thee;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I thought it was crummie stood 'twixt you and me;<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">While she fed your parents, oh! did you not say,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You never would marry wi' auld Robin Gray?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"But sickness at hame, and want at the door&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You gi'ed me your hand, while your heart it was sore;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I saw it was sore, why took I her hand?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh, that was a deed to my shame o'er the land!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"How truth, soon or late, comes to open daylight!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For Jamie cam' back, and your cheek it grew white;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">White, white grew your cheek, but aye true unto me.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh, Jeanie, I 'm thankfu'&mdash;I 'm thankfu' to dee!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Is Jamie come here yet?" and Jamie he saw;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"I 've injured you sair, lad, so I leave you my a';<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Be kind to my Jeanie, and soon may it be!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Waste no time, my dauties, in mournin' for me."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">They kiss'd his cauld hands, and a smile o'er his face<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Seem'd hopefu' of being accepted by grace;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"Oh, doubtna," said Jamie, "forgi'en he will be,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wha wadna be tempted, my love, to win thee?"<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;*&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;*&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;*&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;*&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;*<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The first days were dowie, while time slipt awa';<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But saddest and sairest to Jeanie of a'<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Was thinking she couldna be honest and right,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wi' tears in her e'e, while her heart was sae light.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But nae guile had she, and her sorrow away,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The wife of her Jamie, the tear couldna stay;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A bonnie wee bairn&mdash;the auld folks by the fire&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh, now she has a' that her heart can desire!<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span></div></div>
+
+<p>In an earlier continuation of the original ballad, there
+are some good stanzas, which, however, the author had
+thought proper to expunge from the piece in its altered
+and extended form. One verse, descriptive of Robin
+Gray's feelings, on observing the concealed and withering
+grief of his spouse, is beautiful for its simplicity:&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Nae questions he spier'd her concerning her health,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He look'd at her often, but aye 'twas by stealth;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When his heart it grew grit, and, sighin', he feign'd<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To gang to the door to see if it rain'd."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="SONG" id="SONG"></a>SONG.</h3>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Why tarries my love?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ah! where does he rove?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My love is long absent from me.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Come hither, my dove,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I 'll write to my love,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And send him a letter by thee.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">To find him, swift fly!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The letter I 'll tie<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Secure to thy leg with a string.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ah! not to my leg,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Fair lady, I beg,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But fasten it under my wing.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Her dove she did deck,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She drew o'er his neck<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A bell and a collar so gay;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She tied to his wing<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The scroll with a string,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then kiss'd him and sent him away.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">It blew and it rain'd,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The pigeon disdain'd<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To seek shelter; undaunted he flew,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Till wet was his wing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And painful his string,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So heavy the letter it grew.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">It flew all around,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Till Colin he found,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then perch'd on his head with the prize;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whose heart, while he reads,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With tenderness bleeds,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For the pigeon that flutters and dies.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span></div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3><a name="JOHN_TAIT" id="JOHN_TAIT"></a>JOHN TAIT.</h3>
+
+
+<p><span class="smcap">John Tait</span> was, in early life, devoted to the composition
+of poetry. In Ruddiman's <i>Edinburgh Weekly Magazine</i>
+for 1770, he repeatedly published verses in the Poet's
+Corner, with his initials attached, and in subsequent
+years he published anonymously the "Cave of Morar,"
+"Poetical Legends," and other poems. "The Vanity
+of Human Wishes, an Elegy, occasioned by the Untimely
+Death of a Scots Poet," appears under the signature
+of J. <span class="smcap">Tait</span>, in "Poems on Various Subjects by
+Robert Fergusson, Part II.," Edinburgh, 1779, 12mo.
+He was admitted as a Writer to the Signet on the 21st
+of November 1781; and in July 1805 was appointed
+Judge of Police, on a new police system being introduced
+into Edinburgh. In the latter capacity he continued
+to officiate till July 1812, when a new Act of
+Parliament entrusted the settlement of police cases, as
+formerly, to the magistrates of the city. Mr Tait died
+at his house in Abercromby Place, on the 29th of
+August 1817.</p>
+
+<p>"The Banks of the Dee," the only popular production
+from the pen of the author, was composed in the
+year 1775, on the occasion of a friend leaving Scotland
+to join the British forces in America, who were then<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span>
+vainly endeavouring to suppress that opposition to the
+control of the mother country which resulted in the
+permanent establishment of American independence.
+The song is set to the Irish air of "Langolee." It was
+printed in Wilson's Collection of Songs, which was
+published at Edinburgh in 1779, with four additional
+stanzas by a Miss Betsy B&mdash;&mdash;s, of inferior merit. It
+was re-published in "The Goldfinch" (Edinburgh,
+1782), and afterwards was inserted in Johnson's "Musical
+Museum." Burns, in his letter to Mr George Thomson,
+of 7th April 1793, writes&mdash;"'The Banks of the Dee'
+is, you know, literally 'Langolee' to slow time. The
+song is well enough, but has some false imagery in it;
+for instance&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"'And sweetly the nightingale sung from the tree.'<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>In the first place, the nightingale sings in a low bush,
+but never from a tree; and, in the second place, there
+never was a nightingale seen or heard on the banks of
+the Dee, or on the banks of any other river in Scotland.
+Creative rural imagery is always comparatively flat."</p>
+
+<p>Thirty years after its first appearance, Mr Tait published
+a new edition of the song in Mr Thomson's Collection,
+vol. iv., in which he has, by alterations on the
+first half stanza, acknowledged the justice of the strictures
+of the Ayrshire bard. The stanza is altered thus:</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"'Twas summer, and softly the breezes were blowing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And sweetly the <i>wood-pigeon coo'd from the tree</i>;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">At the foot of a rock, where the <i>wild rose was growing</i>,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I sat myself down on the banks of the Dee."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>The song, it may be added, has in several collections
+been erroneously attributed to John Home, author of
+the tragedy of "Douglas."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="THE_BANKS_OF_THE_DEE" id="THE_BANKS_OF_THE_DEE"></a>THE BANKS OF THE DEE.</h3>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">'Twas summer, and softly the breezes were blowing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And sweetly the nightingale sung from the tree,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">At the foot of a rock where the river was flowing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I sat myself down on the banks of the Dee.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Flow on, lovely Dee, flow on, thou sweet river,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thy banks' purest stream shall be dear to me ever,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For there first I gain'd the affection and favour<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of Jamie, the glory and pride of the Dee.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But now he 's gone from me, and left me thus mourning,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To quell the proud rebels&mdash;for valiant is he;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And, ah! there 's no hope of his speedy returning,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To wander again on the banks of the Dee.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He 's gone, hapless youth! o'er the rude roaring billows,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The kindest and sweetest of all the gay fellows,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And left me to wander 'mongst those once loved willows,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The loneliest maid on the banks of the Dee.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But time and my prayers may perhaps yet restore him,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Blest peace may restore my dear shepherd to me;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And when he returns, with such care I 'll watch o'er him,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He never shall leave the sweet banks of the Dee.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Dee then shall flow, all its beauties displaying,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The lambs on its banks shall again be seen playing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While I with my Jamie am carelessly straying,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And tasting again all the sweets of the Dee.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span></div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3><a name="HECTOR_MACNEILL" id="HECTOR_MACNEILL"></a>HECTOR MACNEILL.</h3>
+
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Hector Macneill</span> was born on the 22d of October
+1746, in the villa of Rosebank, near Roslin; and, to
+to use his own words, "amidst the murmur of streams
+and the shades of Hawthornden, may be said to have
+inhaled with life the atmosphere of a poet."<a name="FNanchor_10_10" id="FNanchor_10_10"></a><a href="#Footnote_10_10" class="fnanchor">[10]</a> Descended
+from an old family, who possessed a small estate in the
+southern district of Argyllshire, his father, after various
+changes of fortune, had obtained a company in the 42d
+Regiment, with which he served during several campaigns
+in Flanders. From continued indisposition, and
+consequent inability to undergo the fatigues of military
+life, he disposed of his commission, and retired, with
+his wife and two children, to the villa of Rosebank, of
+which he became the owner. A few years after the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span>
+birth of his son Hector, he felt necessitated, from
+straitened circumstances, to quit this beautiful residence;
+and he afterwards occupied a farm on the
+banks of Loch Lomond. Such a region of the picturesque
+was highly suitable for the development of those
+poetical talents which had already appeared in young
+Hector, amidst the rural amenities of Roslin. In his
+eleventh year, he wrote a drama, after the manner of
+Gay; and the respectable execution of his juvenile
+attempts in versification gained him the approbation of
+Dr Doig, the learned rector of the grammar-school of
+Stirling, who strongly urged his father to afford him
+sufficient instruction, to enable him to enter upon one of
+the liberal professions. Had Captain Macneill's circumstances
+been prosperous, this counsel might have
+been adopted, for the son's promising talents were not
+unnoticed by his father; but pecuniary difficulties opposed
+an unsurmountable obstacle.</p>
+
+<p>An opulent relative, a West India trader, resident in
+Bristol, had paid the captain a visit; and, attracted by
+the shrewdness of the son Hector, who was his namesake,
+offered to retain him in his employment, and to
+provide for him in life. After two years' preparatory
+education, he was accordingly sent to Bristol, in his
+fourteenth year. He was destined to an adventurous
+career, singularly at variance with his early predilections
+and pursuits. By his relative he was designed to sail
+in a slave ship to the coast of Guinea; but the intercession
+of some female friends prevented his being connected
+with an expedition so uncongenial to his feelings.
+He was now despatched on board a vessel to the island
+of St Christopher's, with the view of his making trial of
+a seafaring life, but was provided with recommendatory
+letters, in the event of his preferring employment on<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span>
+land. With a son of the Bristol trader he remained
+twelvemonths; and, having no desire to resume his
+labours as a seaman, he afterwards sailed for Guadaloupe,
+where he continued in the employment of a merchant
+for three years, till 1763, when the island was
+ceded to the French. Dismissed by his employer, with
+a scanty balance of salary, he had some difficulty in
+obtaining the means of transport to Antigua; and there,
+finding himself reduced to entire dependence, he was
+content, without any pecuniary recompense, to become
+assistant to his relative, who had come to the town of
+St John's. From this unhappy condition he was
+rescued, after a short interval. He was possessed of a
+knowledge of the French language; a qualification
+which, together with his general abilities, recommended
+him to fill the office of assistant to the Provost-Marshal
+of Grenada. This appointment he held for three years,
+when, hearing of the death of his mother and sister,
+he returned to Britain. On the death of his father,
+eighteen months after his arrival, he succeeded to a
+small patrimony, which he proceeded to invest in the
+purchase of an annuity of &pound;80 per annum. With this
+limited income, he seems to have planned a permanent
+settlement in his native country; but the unexpected
+embarrassment of the party from whom he had purchased
+the annuity, and an attachment of an unfortunate
+nature, compelled him to re-embark on the ocean of
+adventure. He accepted the office of assistant-secretary
+on board Admiral Geary's flag-ship, and made two
+cruises with the grand fleet. Proposing again to return
+to Scotland, he afterwards resigned his appointment;
+but he was induced, by the remonstrances of his friends,
+Dr Currie, and Mr Roscoe, of Liverpool, to accept a
+similar situation on board the flag-ship of Sir Richard<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span>
+Bickerton, who had been appointed to take the chief
+command of the naval power in India. In this post,
+many of the hardships incident to a seafaring life fell to
+his share; and being present at the last indecisive
+action with "Suffrein," he had likewise to encounter the
+perils of war. His present connexion subsisted three
+years; but Macneill sickened in the discharge of duties
+wholly unsuitable for him, and longed for the comforts
+of home. His resources were still limited, but he flattered
+himself in the expectation that he might earn a
+subsistence as a man of letters. He fixed his residence
+at a farm-house in the vicinity of Stirling; and, amidst
+the pursuits of literature, the composition of verses, and
+the cultivation of friendship, he contrived, for a time, to
+enjoy a considerable share of happiness. But he speedily
+discovered the delusion of supposing that an individual,
+entirely unknown in the literary world, could at
+once be able to establish his reputation, and inspire
+confidence in the bookselling trade, whose favour is so
+essential to men of letters. Discouraged in longer persevering
+in the attempt of procuring a livelihood at
+home, Macneill, for the fourth time, took his departure
+from Britain. Provided with letters of introduction to
+influential and wealthy persons in Jamaica, he sailed for
+that island on a voyage of adventure; being now in his
+thirty-eighth year, and nearly as unprovided for as
+when he had first left his native shores, twenty-four
+years before. On his arrival at Kingston, he was employed
+by the collector of customs, whose acquaintance
+he had formed on the voyage; but this official soon
+found he could dispense with his services, which he did,
+without aiding him in obtaining another situation. The
+individuals to whom he had brought letters were unable
+or unwilling to render him assistance, and the unfortu<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span>nate
+adventurer was constrained, in his emergency, to
+accept the kind invitation of a medical friend, to make
+his quarters with him till some satisfactory employment
+might occur. He now discovered two intimate companions
+of his boyhood settled in the island, in very
+prosperous circumstances, and from these he received
+both pecuniary aid and the promise of future support.
+Through their friendly offices, his two sons, who had
+been sent out by a generous friend, were placed in
+situations of respectability and emolument. But the
+thoughts of the poet himself were directed towards
+Britain. He sailed from Jamaica, with a thousand
+plans and schemes hovering in his mind, equally vague
+and indefinite as had been his aims and designs during
+the past chapter of his history. A small sum given him
+as the pay of an inland ensigncy, now conferred on him,
+but antedated, sufficed to defray the expenses of the
+voyage.</p>
+
+<p>Before leaving Scotland for Jamaica, Macneill had
+commenced a poem, founded on a Highland tradition;
+and to the completion of this production he assiduously
+devoted himself during his homeward voyage. It was
+published at Edinburgh in 1789, under the title of
+"The Harp, a Legendary Tale." In the previous
+year, he published a pamphlet in vindication of slavery,
+entitled, "On the Treatment of the Negroes in Jamaica."
+This pamphlet, written to gratify the wishes of an interested
+friend, rather than as the result of his own convictions,
+he subsequently endeavoured to suppress. For
+several years, Macneill persevered in his unsettled mode
+of life. On his return from Jamaica, he resided in the
+mansion of his friend, Mr Graham of Gartmore, himself
+a writer of verses, as well as a patron of letters; but
+a difference with the family caused him to quit this hos<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span>pitable
+residence. After passing some time with his
+relatives in Argyllshire, he entertained a proposal of
+establishing himself in Glasgow, as partner of a mercantile
+house, but this was terminated by the dissolution of
+the firm; and a second attempt to succeed in the republic
+of letters had an equally unsuccessful issue. In
+Edinburgh, whither he had removed, he was seized with
+a severe nervous illness, which, during the six following
+years, rendered him incapable of sustained physical
+exertion. With a little money, which he contrived to
+raise on his annuity, he retired to a small cottage at St
+Ninians; but his finances again becoming reduced, he
+accepted of the hospitable invitation of his friends,
+Major Spark and his lady, to become the inmate of
+their residence of Viewforth House, Stirling. At this
+period, Macneill composed the greater number of his
+best songs, and produced his poem of "Scotland's
+Skaith, or the History of Will and Jean," which was
+published in 1795, and speedily gained him a wide
+reputation. Before the close of twelvemonths, it passed
+through no fewer than fourteen editions. A sequel, entitled
+"The Waes o' War," which appeared in 1796,
+attained nearly an equal popularity. The original
+ballad was composed during the author's solitary walks
+along the promenades of the King's Park, Stirling,
+while he was still suffering mental depression. It was
+completed in his own mind before any of the stanzas
+were committed to paper.</p>
+
+<p>The hope of benefiting his enfeebled constitution
+in a warm climate induced him to revisit Jamaica.
+As a parting tribute to his friends at Stirling, he
+published, in 1799, immediately before his departure,
+a descriptive poem, entitled "The Links of Forth, or a
+Parting Peep at the Carse of Stirling," which, regarded<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span>
+as the last effort of a dying poet, obtained a reception
+fully equal to its merits.</p>
+
+<p>On the oft-disappointed and long unfortunate poet
+the sun of prosperity at length arose. On his arrival in
+Jamaica, one of his early friends, Mr John Graham, of
+Three-Mile-River, settled on him an annuity of &pound;100
+a-year; and, in a few months afterwards, they sailed
+together for Britain, the poet's health being essentially
+improved. Macneill now fixed his permanent residence
+in Edinburgh, and, with the proceeds of several
+legacies bequeathed to him, together with his annuity,
+was enabled to live in comparative affluence. The narrative
+of his early adventures and hardships is supposed
+to form the basis of a novel, entitled "The Memoirs of
+Charles Macpherson, Esq.," which proceeded from his
+pen in 1800. In the following year, he published a
+complete edition of his poetical works, in two duodecimo
+volumes. In 1809, he published "The Pastoral,
+or Lyric Muse of Scotland," in a thin quarto volume;
+and about the same time, anonymously, two other works
+in verse, entitled "Town Fashions, or Modern Manners
+Delineated," and "Bygone Times and Late-come
+Changes." His last work, "The Scottish Adventurers,"
+a novel, appeared in 1812, in two octavo
+volumes.</p>
+
+<p>The latter productions of Hector Macneill, both in
+prose and verse, tended rather to diminish than increase
+his fame. They exhibit the sentiments of a querulous
+old man, inclined to cling to the habits of his youth,
+and to regard any improvement as an act of ruthless
+innovation. As the author of some excellent songs, and
+one of the most popular ballads in the Scottish language,
+his name will continue to be remembered. His songs,
+"Mary of Castlecary," "My boy, Tammie," "Come<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span>
+under my plaidie," "I lo'ed ne'er a laddie but ane,"
+"Donald and Flora," and "Dinna think, bonnie lassie,"
+will retain a firm hold of the popular mind. His characteristic
+is tenderness and pathos, combined with
+unity of feeling, and a simplicity always genuine and
+true to nature. Allan Cunningham, who forms only a
+humble estimate of his genius, remarks that his songs
+"have much softness and truth, an insinuating grace of
+manners, and a decorum of expression, with no small
+skill in the dramatic management of the stories."<a name="FNanchor_11_11" id="FNanchor_11_11"></a><a href="#Footnote_11_11" class="fnanchor">[11]</a> The
+ballad of "Scotland's Skaith" ranks among the happiest
+conceptions of the Scottish Doric muse; rural life is
+depicted with singular force and accuracy, and the debasing
+consequences of the inordinate use of ardent
+spirits among the peasantry, are delineated with a vigour
+and power, admirably adapted to suit the author's benevolent
+intention in the suppression of intemperance.</p>
+
+<p>During his latter years, Macneill was much cherished
+among the fashionables of the capital. He was a tall,
+venerable-looking old man; and although his complexion
+was sallow, and his countenance somewhat austere,
+his agreeable and fascinating conversation, full of
+humour and replete with anecdote, rendered him an
+acceptable guest in many social circles. He displayed
+a lively, but not a vigorous intellect, and his literary
+attainments were inconsiderable. Of his own character
+as a man of letters, he had evidently formed a
+high estimate. He was prone to satire, but did not
+unduly indulge in it. He was especially impatient of
+indifferent versification; and, among his friends, rather
+discouraged than commended poetical composition.
+Though long unsettled himself, he was loud in his <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span>commendations
+of industry; and, from the gay man of the
+world, he became earnest on the subject of religion.
+For several years, his health seems to have been unsatisfactory.
+In a letter to a friend, dated Edinburgh,
+January 30, 1813, he writes:&mdash;"Accumulating years
+and infirmities are beginning to operate very sensibly
+upon me now, and yearly do I experience their increasing
+influence. Both my hearing and my sight are considerably
+weakened, and, should I live a few years
+longer, I look forward to a state which, with all our love
+for life, is certainly not to be envied.... My pen is
+my chief amusement. Reading soon fatigues, and loses
+its zest; composition never, till over-exertion reminds me
+of my imprudence, by sensations which too frequently
+render me unpleasant during the rest of the day." On
+the 15th of March 1818, in his seventy-second year, the
+poet breathed his last, in entire composure, and full of
+hope.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="MARY_OF_CASTLECARY12" id="MARY_OF_CASTLECARY12"></a>MARY OF CASTLECARY.<a name="FNanchor_12_12" id="FNanchor_12_12"></a><a href="#Footnote_12_12" class="fnanchor">[12]</a></h3>
+
+<p class='center'><span class="smcap">Tune</span>&mdash;<i>"Bonnie Dundee."</i></p>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Oh, saw ye my wee thing? saw ye my ain thing?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Saw ye my true love, down on yon lee?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Cross'd she the meadow yestreen at the gloamin'?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sought she the burnie whare flow'rs the haw-tree?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her hair it is lint-white; her skin it is milk-white;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Dark is the blue o' her saft rolling e'e;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Red, red her ripe lips, and sweeter than roses:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whare could my wee thing wander frae me?"<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"I saw na your wee thing, I saw na your ain thing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor saw I your true love, down on yon lea;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But I met my bonnie thing, late in the gloamin',<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Down by the burnie whare flow'rs the haw-tree.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her hair it was lint-white; her skin it was milk-white;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Dark was the blue o' her saft rolling e'e;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Red were her ripe lips, and sweeter than roses:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sweet were the kisses that she ga'e to me!"<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"It was na my wee thing, it was na my ain thing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It was na my true love, ye met by the tree:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Proud is her leal heart&mdash;modest her nature;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She never lo'ed ony till ance she lo'ed me.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">Her name it is Mary; she 's frae Castlecary;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Aft has she sat, when a bairn, on my knee;&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Fair as your face is, were 't fifty times fairer,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Young bragger, she ne'er would gi'e kisses to thee."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"It was, then, your Mary; she 's frae Castlecary;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It was, then, your true love I met by the tree;&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Proud as her heart is, and modest her nature,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sweet were the kisses that she ga'e to me."<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sair gloom'd his dark brow, blood-red his cheek grew;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wild flash'd the fire frae his red rolling e'e&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"Ye 's rue sair, this morning, your boasts and your scorning;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Defend, ye fause traitor! fu' loudly ye lie."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Awa' wi' beguiling," cried the youth, smiling;&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Aff went the bonnet; the lint-white locks flee;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The belted plaid fa'ing, her white bosom shawing&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Fair stood the lo'ed maid wi' the dark rolling e'e.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"Is it my wee thing? is it mine ain thing?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is it my true love here that I see?"<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"Oh, Jamie, forgi'e me! your heart 's constant to me;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I 'll never mair wander, dear laddie, frae thee!"<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="MY_BOY_TAMMY13" id="MY_BOY_TAMMY13"></a>MY BOY, TAMMY.<a name="FNanchor_13_13" id="FNanchor_13_13"></a><a href="#Footnote_13_13" class="fnanchor">[13]</a></h3>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Whare hae ye been a' day,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My boy, Tammy?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whare hae ye been a' day,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My boy, Tammy?"<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">"I 've been by burn and flow'ry brae,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Meadow green, and mountain gray,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Courting o' this young thing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Just come frae her mammy."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"And whare got ye that young thing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My boy, Tammy?"<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"I gat her down in yonder howe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Smiling on a broomy knowe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Herding a wee lamb and ewe<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For her poor mammy."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"What said ye to the bonnie bairn,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My boy, Tammy?"<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"I praised her een, sae bonny blue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her dimpled cheek, and cherry mou';<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I pree'd it aft, as ye may true;&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She said she 'd tell her mammy.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"I held her to my beating heart,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My young, my smiling lammie!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'I hae a house, it cost me dear;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I 've wealth o' plenishin' and gear;&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ye 'se get it a', were 't ten times mair,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Gin ye will leave your mammy.'<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"The smile gaed aff her bonnie face&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'I maunna leave my mammy;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She 's gi'en me meat, she 's gi'en me claise,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She 's been my comfort a' my days;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My father's death brought mony waes&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I canna leave my mammy.'"<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"We 'll tak her hame, and mak her fain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My ain kind-hearted lammie;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We 'll gi'e her meat, we 'll gi'e her claise,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We 'll be her comfort a' her days."<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The wee thing gi'es her hand and says&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"There! gang and ask my mammy."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Has she been to kirk wi' thee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My boy, Tammy?"<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"She has been to kirk wi' me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the tear was in her e'e;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But, oh! she 's but a young thing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Just come frae her mammy."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="OH_TELL_ME_HOW_FOR_TO_WOO14" id="OH_TELL_ME_HOW_FOR_TO_WOO14"></a>OH, TELL ME HOW FOR TO WOO!<a name="FNanchor_14_14" id="FNanchor_14_14"></a><a href="#Footnote_14_14" class="fnanchor">[14]</a></h3>
+
+<p class='center'><span class="smcap">Tune</span>&mdash;<i>"Bonnie Dundee."</i></p>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">"Oh, tell me, bonnie young lassie!<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Oh, tell me how for to woo!<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Oh, tell me, bonnie sweet lassie!<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Oh, tell me how for to woo!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Say, maun I roose your cheeks like the morning?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Lips, like the roses, fresh moisten'd wi' dew;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Say, maun I roose your een's pawkie scorning?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh, tell me how for to woo!<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Far hae I wander'd to see thee, dear lassie!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Far hae I ventured across the saut sea;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Far hae I travell'd ower moorland and mountain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Houseless and weary, sleep'd cauld on the lea.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ne'er hae I tried yet to mak love to onie,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For ne'er lo'ed I onie till ance I lo'ed you;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now we 're alane in the green-wood sae bonnie&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh, tell me how for to woo!"<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"What care I for your wand'ring, young laddie?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What care I for your crossing the sea?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It was na for naething ye left poor young Peggie;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It was for my tocher ye cam' to court me.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Say, hae ye gowd to busk me aye gaudie?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ribbons, and perlins, and breast-knots enew?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A house that is canty, with wealth in 't, my laddie?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Without this ye never need try for to woo."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"I hae na gowd to busk ye aye gaudie;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I canna buy ribbons and perlins enew;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I 've naething to brag o' house, or o' plenty,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I 've little to gi'e, but a heart that is true.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I cam' na for tocher&mdash;I ne'er heard o' onie;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I never lo'ed Peggy, nor e'er brak my vow:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I 've wander'd, puir fule! for a face fause as bonnie:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I little thocht this was the way for to woo."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Our laird has fine houses, and guineas o' gowd<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He 's youthfu', he 's blooming, and comely to see.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The leddies are a' ga'en wud for the wooer,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And yet, ilka e'ening, he leaves them for me.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh, saft in the gloaming, his love he discloses!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And saftly, yestreen, as I milked my cow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He swore that my breath it was sweeter than roses,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And a' the gait hame he did naething but woo."<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Ah, Jenny! the young laird may brag o' his siller,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His houses, his lands, and his lordly degree;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His speeches for <i>true love</i> may drap sweet as honey,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But trust me, dear Jenny, he ne'er lo'ed like <i>me</i>.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The wooin' o' gentry are fine words o' fashion&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The faster they fa' as the heart is least true;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The dumb look o' love 's aft the best proof o' passion;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The heart that feels maist is the least fit to woo."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Hae na ye roosed my cheeks like the morning?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hae na ye roosed my cherry-red mou'?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hae na ye come ower sea, moor, and mountain?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What mair, Johnnie, need ye to woo?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Far ye wander'd, I ken, my dear laddie;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now that ye 've found me, there 's nae cause to rue;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wi' health we 'll hae plenty&mdash;I 'll never gang gaudie;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I ne'er wish'd for mair than a heart that is true."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">She hid her fair face in her true lover's bosom,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The saft tear o' transport fill'd ilk lover's e'e;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The burnie ran sweet by their side as they sabbit,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And sweet sang the mavis aboon on the tree.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He clasp'd her, he press'd her, and ca'd her his hinny;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And aften he tasted her honey-sweet mou';<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And aye, 'tween ilk kiss, she sigh'd to her Johnnie,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"Oh, laddie! weel can ye woo."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="LASSIE_WI_THE_GOWDEN_HAIR" id="LASSIE_WI_THE_GOWDEN_HAIR"></a>LASSIE WI' THE GOWDEN HAIR.</h3>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">Lassie wi' the gowden hair,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Silken snood, and face sae fair;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Lassie wi' the yellow hair,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Thinkna to deceive me.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span>
+<span class="i2">Lassie wi' the gowden hair,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Flattering smile, and face sae fair,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Fare ye weel! for never mair<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Johnnie will believe ye.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh, no! Mary Bawn, Mary Bawn, Mary Bawn;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh, no! Mary Bawn, ye 'll nae mair deceive me.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">Smiling, twice ye made me troo,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Twice, poor fool! I turn'd to woo;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Twice, fause maid! ye brak your vow;<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Now I 've sworn to leave ye.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Twice, fause maid! ye brak your vow;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Twice, poor fool! I 've learn'd to rue;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Come ye yet to mak me troo?<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Thrice ye 'll ne'er deceive me.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No, no! Mary Bawn, Mary Bawn, Mary Bawn;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh, no! Mary Bawn; thrice ye 'll ne'er deceive me.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">Mary saw him turn to part;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Deep his words sank in her heart;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Soon the tears began to start&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">"Johnnie, will ye leave me?"<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Soon the tears began to start,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Grit and gritter grew his heart;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">"Yet a word before we part,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Love could ne'er deceive ye.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh, no! Johnnie doo, Johnnie doo, Johnnie doo;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh, no! Johnnie doo&mdash;love could ne'er deceive ye."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">Johnnie took a parting keek;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Saw the tears drap owre her cheek;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Pale she stood, but couldna speak&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Mary 's cured o' smiling.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span>
+<span class="i2">Johnnie took anither keek&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Beauty's rose has left her cheek;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Pale she stands, and canna speak.<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">This is nae beguiling.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh, no! Mary Bawn, Mary Bawn, dear Mary Bawn;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh, no; Mary Bawn&mdash;love has nae beguiling.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="COME_UNDER_MY_PLAIDIE" id="COME_UNDER_MY_PLAIDIE"></a>COME UNDER MY PLAIDIE.</h3>
+
+<p class='center'><span class="smcap">Tune</span>&mdash;<i>"Johnnie M'Gill."</i></p>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Come under my plaidie, the night 's gaun to fa';<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Come in frae the cauld blast, the drift, and the snaw;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Come under my plaidie, and sit down beside me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There 's room in 't, dear lassie, believe me, for twa.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Come under my plaidie, and sit down beside me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I 'll hap ye frae every cauld blast that can blaw:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh, come under my plaidie, and sit down beside me!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There 's room in 't, dear lassie, believe me, for twa."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Gae 'wa wi' your plaidie, auld Donald, gae 'wa,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I fear na the cauld blast, the drift, nor the snaw;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Gae 'wa wi' your plaidie, I 'll no sit beside ye;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ye may be my gutcher;&mdash;auld Donald, gae 'wa.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I 'm gaun to meet Johnnie, he 's young and he 's bonnie;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He 's been at Meg's bridal, fu' trig and fu' braw;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh, nane dances sae lightly, sae gracefu', sae tightly!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His cheek 's like the new rose, his brow 's like the snaw."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Dear Marion, let that flee stick fast to the wa';<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Your Jock 's but a gowk, and has naething ava;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The hale o' his pack he has now on his back&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He 's thretty, and I am but threescore and twa.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">Be frank now and kindly; I 'll busk ye aye finely;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To kirk or to market they 'll few gang sae braw;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A bein house to bide in, a chaise for to ride in,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And flunkies to 'tend ye as aft as ye ca'."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"My father 's aye tauld me, my mither and a',<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ye 'd mak a gude husband, and keep me aye braw;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It 's true I lo'e Johnnie, he 's gude and he 's bonnie;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But, waes me! ye ken he has naething ava.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I hae little tocher; you 've made a gude offer;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I 'm now mair than twenty&mdash;my time is but sma';<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sae gi'e me your plaidie, I 'll creep in beside ye&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I thocht ye 'd been aulder than threescore and twa."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">She crap in ayont him, aside the stane wa',<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whare Johnnie was list'ning, and heard her tell a';<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The day was appointed, his proud heart it dunted,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And strack 'gainst his side as if bursting in twa.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He wander'd hame weary, the night it was dreary;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And, thowless, he tint his gate 'mang the deep snaw;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The owlet was screamin' while Johnnie cried, "Women<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wad marry Auld Nick if he 'd keep them aye braw."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="I_LOED_NEER_A_LADDIE_BUT_ANE15" id="I_LOED_NEER_A_LADDIE_BUT_ANE15"></a>I LO'ED NE'ER A LADDIE BUT ANE.<a name="FNanchor_15_15" id="FNanchor_15_15"></a><a href="#Footnote_15_15" class="fnanchor">[15]</a></h3>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I lo'ed ne'er a laddie but ane,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He lo'ed ne'er a lassie but me;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He 's willing to mak' me his ain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And his ain I am willing to be.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">He has coft me a rokelay o' blue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And a pair o' mittens o' green;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The price was a kiss o' my mou',<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And I paid him the debt yestreen.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Let ithers brag weel o' their gear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Their land and their lordly degree;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I carena for aught but my dear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For he 's ilka thing lordly to me:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His words are sae sugar'd and sweet!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His sense drives ilk fear far awa'!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I listen, poor fool! and I greet;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet how sweet are the tears as they fa'!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Dear lassie," he cries, wi' a jeer,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"Ne'er heed what the auld anes will say;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Though we 've little to brag o', near fear&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What 's gowd to a heart that is wae?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Our laird has baith honours and wealth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet see how he 's dwining wi' care;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now we, though we 've naething but health,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Are cantie and leal evermair.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"O Marion! the heart that is true,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Has something mair costly than gear!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ilk e'en it has naething to rue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ilk morn it has naething to fear.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ye warldlings! gae hoard up your store,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And tremble for fear aught ye tyne;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Guard your treasures wi' lock, bar, and door,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While here in my arms I lock mine!"<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">He ends wi' a kiss and a smile&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wae 's me! can I tak' it amiss?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My laddie 's unpractised in guile,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He 's free aye to daut and to kiss!<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">Ye lasses wha lo'e to torment<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Your wooers wi' fause scorn and strife,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Play your pranks&mdash;I hae gi'en my consent,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And this nicht I 'm Jamie's for life!<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="DONALD_AND_FLORA16" id="DONALD_AND_FLORA16"></a>DONALD AND FLORA.<a name="FNanchor_16_16" id="FNanchor_16_16"></a><a href="#Footnote_16_16" class="fnanchor">[16]</a></h3>
+
+
+<h4>I.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When merry hearts were gay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Careless of aught but play,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Poor Flora slipt away,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sadd'ning to Mora;<a name="FNanchor_17_17" id="FNanchor_17_17"></a><a href="#Footnote_17_17" class="fnanchor">[17]</a><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Loose flow'd her yellow hair,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Quick heaved her bosom bare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As to the troubled air<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She vented her sorrow.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>II.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Loud howls the stormy wist,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Cold, cold is winter's blast;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Haste, then, O Donald, haste,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Haste to thy Flora!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Twice twelve long months are o'er,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Since on a foreign shore<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You promised to fight no more,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But meet me in Mora."<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span></div></div>
+
+
+<h4>III.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"'Where now is Donald dear?'<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Maids cry with taunting sneer;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'Say, is he still sincere<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To his loved Flora?'<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Parents upbraid my moan,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Each heart is turn'd to stone:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'Ah, Flora! thou 'rt now alone,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Friendless in Mora!'<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>IV.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Come, then, O come away!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Donald, no longer stay;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where can my rover stray<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From his loved Flora!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ah! sure he ne'er can be<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">False to his vows and me;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh, Heaven!&mdash;is not yonder he,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Bounding o'er Mora!"<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>V.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Never, ah! wretched fair!"<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sigh'd the sad messenger,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"Never shall Donald mair<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Meet his loved Flora!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Cold as yon mountain snow<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Donald thy love lies low;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He sent me to soothe thy woe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Weeping in Mora.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>VI.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Well fought our gallant men<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On Saratoga's plain;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thrice fled the hostile train<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From British glory.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">But, ah! though our foes did flee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sad was such victory&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Truth, love, and loyalty<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Fell far from Mora.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>VII.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"'Here, take this love-wrought plaid,'<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Donald, expiring, said;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'Give it to yon dear maid<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Drooping in Mora.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Tell her, O Allan! tell<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Donald thus bravely fell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And that in his last farewell<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He thought on his Flora.'"<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>VIII.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Mute stood the trembling fair,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Speechless with wild despair;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then, striking her bosom bare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sigh'd out, "Poor Flora!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ah, Donald! ah, well-a-day!"<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Was all the fond heart could say:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">At length the sound died away<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Feebly in Mora.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span></div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="MY_LUVES_IN_GERMANY18" id="MY_LUVES_IN_GERMANY18"></a>MY LUVE'S IN GERMANY.<a name="FNanchor_18_18" id="FNanchor_18_18"></a><a href="#Footnote_18_18" class="fnanchor">[18]</a></h3>
+
+<p class='center'><span class="smcap">Tune</span>&mdash;<i>"Ye Jacobites by name."</i></p>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">My luve 's in Germanie, send him hame, send him hame;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My luve 's in Germanie, send him hame;<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">My luve 's in Germanie,<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Fighting brave for royalty:<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">He may ne'er his Jeanie see&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">Send him hame.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">He 's as brave as brave can be&mdash;send him hame, send him hame;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He 's as brave as brave can be&mdash;send him hame;<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">He 's as brave as brave can be,<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">He wad rather fa' than flee;<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">His life is dear to me&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">Send him hame.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Your luve ne'er learnt to flee, bonnie dame, bonnie dame,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Your luve ne'er learnt to flee, bonnie dame;<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Your luve ne'er learnt to flee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">But he fell in Germanie,<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">In the cause of royalty,<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">Bonnie dame.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">He 'll ne'er come ower the sea&mdash;Willie 's slain, Willie 's slain;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He 'll ne'er come ower the sea&mdash;Willie 's gane!<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span>
+<span class="i8">He 'll ne'er come ower the sea,<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">To his love and ain countrie:<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">This warld 's nae mair for me&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">Willie 's gane!<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="DINNA_THINK_BONNIE_LASSIE19" id="DINNA_THINK_BONNIE_LASSIE19"></a>DINNA THINK, BONNIE LASSIE.<a name="FNanchor_19_19" id="FNanchor_19_19"></a><a href="#Footnote_19_19" class="fnanchor">[19]</a></h3>
+
+<p class='center'><span class="smcap">Tune</span>&mdash;<i>"Clunie's Reel."</i></p>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Oh, dinna think, bonnie lassie, I 'm gaun to leave thee!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Dinna think, bonnie lassie, I 'm gaun to leave thee;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Dinna think, bonnie lassie, I 'm gaun to leave thee;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I 'll tak a stick into my hand, and come again and see thee."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Far 's the gate ye hae to gang; dark 's the night, and eerie;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Far 's the gate ye hae to gang; dark 's the night, and eerie;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Far 's the gate ye hae to gang; dark 's the night, and eerie;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh, stay this night wi' your love, and dinna gang and leave me."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"It 's but a night and hauf a day that I 'll leave my dearie;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But a night and hauf a day that I 'll leave my dearie;<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">But a night and hauf a day that I 'll leave my dearie;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whene'er the sun gaes west the loch, I 'll come again and see thee."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Dinna gang, my bonnie lad, dinna gang and leave me;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Dinna gang, my bonnie lad, dinna gang and leave me;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When a' the lave are sound asleep, I 'm dull and eerie;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And a' the lee-lang night I 'm sad, wi' thinking on my dearie."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Oh, dinna think, bonnie lassie, I 'm gaun to leave thee!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Dinna think, bonnie lassie, I 'm gaun to leave thee;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Dinna think, bonnie lassie, I 'm gaun to leave thee;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whene'er the sun gaes out o' sight, I 'll come again and see thee."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Waves are rising o'er the sea; winds blaw loud and fear me;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Waves are rising o'er the sea; winds blaw loud and fear me;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While the winds and waves do roar, I am wae and drearie;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And gin ye lo'e me as ye say, ye winna gang and leave me."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Oh, never mair, bonnie lassie, will I gang and leave thee!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Never mair, bonnie lassie, will I gang and leave thee;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Never mair, bonnie lassie, will I gang and leave thee;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">E'en let the world gang as it will, I 'll stay at hame and cheer ye."<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Frae his hand he coost his stick; "I winna gang and leave thee;"<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Threw his plaid into the neuk; "Never can I grieve thee;"<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Drew his boots, and flang them by; cried, "My lass, be cheerie;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I 'll kiss the tear frae aff thy cheek, and never leave my dearie."<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span></div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="MRS_GRANT_OF_LAGGAN" id="MRS_GRANT_OF_LAGGAN"></a>MRS GRANT OF LAGGAN.</h2>
+
+
+<p>Mrs Anne Grant, commonly styled of Laggan, to distinguish
+her from her contemporary, Mrs Grant of
+Carron, was born at Glasgow, in February 1755. Her
+father, Mr Duncan Macvicar, was an officer in the army,
+and, by her mother, she was descended from the old
+family of Stewart, of Invernahyle, in Argyllshire. Her
+early infancy was passed at Fort-William; but her
+father having accompanied his regiment to America,
+and there become a settler, in the State of New York,
+at a very tender age she was taken by her mother
+across the Atlantic, to her new home. Though her
+third year had not been completed when she arrived in
+America, she retained a distinct recollection of her landing
+at Charlestown. By her mother she was taught to
+read, and a well-informed serjeant made her acquainted
+with writing. Her precocity for learning was remarkable.
+Ere she had reached her sixth year, she had
+made herself familiar with the Old Testament, and
+could speak the Dutch language, which she had learned
+from a family of Dutch settlers. The love of poetry
+and patriotism was simultaneously evinced. At this
+early period, she read Milton's "Paradise Lost" with<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span>
+attention, and even appreciation; and glowed with the
+enthusiastic ardour of a young heroine over the adventures
+of Wallace, detailed in the metrical history of
+Henry, the Minstrel. Her juvenile talent attracted
+the notice of the more intelligent settlers in the State,
+and gained her the friendship of the distinguished
+Madame Schuyler, whose virtues she afterwards depicted
+in her "Memoirs of an American Lady."</p>
+
+<p>In 1768, along with his wife and daughter, Mr Macvicar
+returned to Scotland, his health having suffered
+by his residence in America; and, during the three following
+summers, his daughter found means of gratifying
+her love of song, on the banks of the Cart, near Glasgow.
+The family residence was now removed to Fort-Augustus,
+where Mr Macvicar had received the appointment
+of barrack-master. The chaplain of the fort was
+the Rev. James Grant, a young clergyman, related to
+several of the more respectable families in the district,
+who was afterwards appointed minister of the parish of
+Laggan, in Inverness-shire. At Fort-Augustus, he had
+recommended himself to the affections of Miss Macvicar,
+by his elegant tastes and accomplished manners, and he
+now became the successful suitor for her hand. They
+were married in 1779, and Mrs Grant, to approve herself
+a useful helpmate to her husband, began assiduously
+to acquaint herself with the manners and habits of the
+humbler classes of the people. The inquiries instituted
+at this period were turned to an account more extensive
+than originally contemplated. Mr Grant, who was constitutionally
+delicate, died in 1801, leaving his widow
+and eight surviving children without any means of
+support, his worldly circumstances being considerably
+embarrassed.</p>
+
+<p>On a small farm which she had rented, in the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span>
+vicinity of her late husband's parish, Mrs Grant resided
+immediately subsequent to his decease; but the profits
+of the lease were evidently inadequate for the comfortable
+maintenance of the family. Among the circle of
+her friends she was known as a writer of verses; in her
+ninth year, she had essayed an imitation of Milton; and
+she had written poetry, or at least verses, on the banks
+of the Cart and at Fort-Augustus. To aid in supporting
+her family, she was strongly advised to collect her
+pieces into a volume; and, to encourage her in acting
+upon this recommendation, no fewer than three thousand
+subscribers were procured for the work by her friends.
+The celebrated Duchess of Gordon proved an especial
+promoter of the cause. In 1803, a volume of poems
+appeared from her pen, which, though displaying no
+high powers, was favourably received, and had the
+double advantage of making her known, and of materially
+aiding her finances. From the profits, she made
+settlement of her late husband's liabilities; and now
+perceiving a likelihood of being able to support her
+family by her literary exertions, she abandoned the
+lease of her farm. She took up her residence near
+the town of Stirling, residing in the mansion of Gartur,
+in that neighbourhood. In 1806, she again appeared
+before the public as an author, by publishing a selection
+of her correspondence with her friends, in three duodecimo
+volumes, under the designation of "Letters from
+the Mountains." This work passed through several
+editions. In 1808, Mrs Grant published the life of
+her early friend, Madame Schuyler, under the designation
+of "Memoirs of an American Lady," in two
+volumes.</p>
+
+<p>From the rural retirement of Gartur, she soon removed
+to the town of Stirling; but in 1810, as her circum<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span>stances
+became more prosperous, she took up her permanent
+abode in Edinburgh. Some distinguished literary
+characters of the Scottish capital now resorted to her
+society. She was visited by Sir Walter Scott, Francis
+Jeffrey, James Hogg, and others, attracted by the
+vivacity of her conversation. The "Essays on the
+Superstitions of the Highlanders of Scotland" appeared
+in 1811, in two volumes; in 1814, she published a
+metrical work, in two parts, entitled "Eighteen Hundred
+and Thirteen;" and, in the year following, she
+produced her "Popular Models and Impressive Warnings
+for the Sons and Daughters of Industry."</p>
+
+<p>In 1825, Mrs Grant received a civil-list pension of
+&pound;50 a-year, in consideration of her literary talents,
+which, with the profits of her works and the legacies of
+several deceased friends, rendered the latter period of
+her life sufficiently comfortable in respect of pecuniary
+means. She died on the 7th of November 1838, in the
+eighty-fourth year of her age, and retaining her faculties
+to the last. A collection of her correspondence was
+published in 1844, in three volumes octavo, edited by
+her only surviving son, John P. Grant, Esq.</p>
+
+<p>As a writer, Mrs Grant occupies a respectable place.
+She had the happy art of turning her every-day observation,
+as well as the fruits of her research, to the best
+account. Her letters, which she published at the commencement
+of her literary career, as well as those which
+appeared posthumously, are favourable specimens of
+that species of composition. As a poet, she attained to
+no eminence. "The Highlanders," her longest and
+most ambitious poetical effort, exhibits some glowing
+descriptions of mountain scenery, and the stern though
+simple manners of the Ga&euml;l. Of a few songs which
+proceed from her pen, that commencing, "Oh, where,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span>
+tell me where?" written on the occasion of the Marquis
+of Huntly's departure for Holland with his regiment, in
+1799, has only become generally known. It has been
+parodied in a song, by an unknown author, entitled
+"The Blue Bells of Scotland," which has obtained
+a wider range of popularity.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="OH_WHERE_TELL_ME_WHERE" id="OH_WHERE_TELL_ME_WHERE"></a>OH, WHERE, TELL ME WHERE?</h3>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Oh, where, tell me where, is your Highland laddie gone?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh, where, tell me where, is your Highland laddie gone?"<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"He 's gone, with streaming banners, where noble deeds are done,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And my sad heart will tremble till he come safely home.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He 's gone, with streaming banners, where noble deeds are done,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And my sad heart will tremble till he come safely home."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Oh, where, tell me where, did your Highland laddie stay?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh, where, tell me where, did your Highland laddie stay?"<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"He dwelt beneath the holly-trees, beside the rapid Spey,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And many a blessing follow'd him, the day he went away.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He dwelt beneath the holly-trees, beside the rapid Spey,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And many a blessing follow'd him, the day he went away."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Oh, what, tell me what, does your Highland laddie wear?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh, what, tell me what, does your Highland laddie wear?"<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">"A bonnet with a lofty plume, the gallant badge of war,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And a plaid across the manly breast that yet shall wear a star;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A bonnet with a lofty plume, the gallant badge of war,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And a plaid across the manly breast that yet shall wear a star."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Suppose, ah, suppose, that some cruel, cruel wound,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Should pierce your Highland laddie, and all your hopes confound!"<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"The pipe would play a cheering march, the banners round him fly;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The spirit of a Highland chief would lighten in his eye;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The pipe would play a cheering march, the banners round him fly,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And for his king and country dear with pleasure he would die!"<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"But I will hope to see him yet, in Scotland's bonny bounds;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But I will hope to see him yet, in Scotland's bonny bounds.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His native land of liberty shall nurse his glorious wounds,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While, wide through all our Highland hills, his warlike name resounds;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His native land of liberty shall nurse his glorious wounds,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While, wide through all our Highland hills, his warlike name resounds."<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span></div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="OH_MY_LOVE_LEAVE_ME_NOT20" id="OH_MY_LOVE_LEAVE_ME_NOT20"></a>OH, MY LOVE, LEAVE ME NOT!<a name="FNanchor_20_20" id="FNanchor_20_20"></a><a href="#Footnote_20_20" class="fnanchor">[20]</a></h3>
+
+<p class='center'><span class="smcap">Air</span>&mdash;<i>"Bealach na Gharraidh."</i></p>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Oh, my love, leave me not!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh, my love, leave me not!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh, my love, leave me not!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Lonely and weary.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Could you but stay a while,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And my fond fears beguile,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I yet once more could smile,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Lightsome and cheery.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Night, with her darkest shroud,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Tempests that roar aloud,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thunders that burst the cloud,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Why should I fear ye?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Till the sad hour we part,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Fear cannot make me start;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Grief cannot break my heart<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whilst thou art near me.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Should you forsake my sight,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Day would to me be night;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sad, I would shun its light,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Heartless and weary.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span></div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="JOHN_MAYNE" id="JOHN_MAYNE"></a>JOHN MAYNE.</h2>
+
+
+<p>John Mayne, chiefly known as the author of "The
+Siller Gun," a poem descriptive of burgher habits in
+Scotland towards the close of the century, was born at
+Dumfries, on the 26th of March 1759. At the grammar
+school of his native town, under Dr Chapman, the
+learned rector, whose memory he has celebrated in the
+third canto of his principal poem, he had the benefit of
+a respectable elementary education; and having chosen
+the profession of a printer, he entered at an early age
+the printing office of the <i>Dumfries Journal</i>. In 1782,
+when his parents removed to Glasgow, to reside on a
+little property to which they had succeeded, he sought
+employment under the celebrated Messrs Foulis, in
+whose printing establishment he continued during the
+five following years. He paid a visit to London in
+1785, with the view of advancing his professional interests,
+and two years afterwards he settled in the metropolis.</p>
+
+<p>Mayne, while a mere stripling, was no unsuccessful
+wooer of the Muse; and in his sixteenth year he produced
+the germ of that poem on which his reputation
+chiefly depends. This production, entitled "The Siller
+Gun," descriptive of a sort of <i>walkingshaw</i>, or an an<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span>cient
+practice which obtained in his native town, of
+shooting, on the king's birth-day, for a silver tube or
+gun, which had been presented by James VI. to the
+incorporated trades, as a prize to the best marksman,
+was printed at Dumfries in 1777, on a small quarto
+page. The original edition consisted of twelve stanzas;
+in two years it increased to two cantos; in 1780, it was
+printed in three cantos; in 1808, it was published in
+London with a fourth; and in 1836, just before his
+death, the author added a fifth. The latest edition was
+published by subscription, in an elegant duodecimo
+volume.</p>
+
+<p>In 1780, in the pages of Ruddiman's <i>Weekly Magazine</i>,
+Mayne published a short poem on "Halloween,"
+which suggested Burns's celebrated poem on the same
+subject. In 1781, he published at Glasgow his song of
+"Logan Braes," of which Burns afterwards composed a
+new version.</p>
+
+<p>In London, Mayne was first employed as printer, and
+subsequently became joint-editor and proprietor, along
+with Dr Tilloch, of the <i>Star</i> evening newspaper. With
+this journal he retained a connexion till his death, which
+took place at London on the 14th of March 1836.</p>
+
+<p>Besides the humorous and descriptive poem of "The
+Siller Gun," which, in the opinion of Sir Walter Scott,
+surpasses the efforts of Ferguson, and comes near to
+those of Burns,<a name="FNanchor_21_21" id="FNanchor_21_21"></a><a href="#Footnote_21_21" class="fnanchor">[21]</a> Mayne published another epic production,
+entitled "Glasgow," which appeared in 1803, and
+has passed through several editions. In the same year
+he published "English, Scots, and Irishmen," a chivalrous
+address to the population of the three kingdoms.
+To the literary journals, his contributions, both in prose
+and verse, were numerous and interesting. Many of his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span>
+songs and ballads enriched the columns of the journal
+which he so long and ably conducted. In early life, he
+maintained a metrical correspondence with Thomas
+Telford, the celebrated engineer, who was a native of
+the same county, and whose earliest ambition was to
+earn the reputation of a poet.<a name="FNanchor_22_22" id="FNanchor_22_22"></a><a href="#Footnote_22_22" class="fnanchor">[22]</a></p>
+
+<p>Possessed of entire amiability of disposition, and the
+utmost amenity of manners, John Mayne was warmly
+beloved among the circle of his friends. Himself embued
+with a deep sense of religion, though fond of innocent
+humour, he preserved in all his writings a becoming
+respect for sound morals, and is entitled to the commendation
+which a biographer has awarded him, of
+having never committed to paper a single line "the
+tendency of which was not to afford innocent amusement,
+or to improve and increase the happiness of mankind."
+He was singularly modest and even retiring.
+His eulogy has been pronounced by Allan Cunningham,
+who knew him well, that "a better or warmer-hearted
+man never existed." The songs, of which we have
+selected the more popular, abound in vigour of expression
+and sentiment, and are pervaded by a genuine
+pathos.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="LOGAN_BRAES23" id="LOGAN_BRAES23"></a>LOGAN BRAES.<a name="FNanchor_23_23" id="FNanchor_23_23"></a><a href="#Footnote_23_23" class="fnanchor">[23]</a></h3>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">By Logan's streams, that rin sae deep,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Fu' aft wi' glee I've herded sheep,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I've herded sheep, or gather'd slaes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wi' my dear lad, on Logan braes.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But, waes my heart! thae days are gane,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And I wi' grief may herd alane;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While my dear lad maun face his faes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Far, far frae me and Logan braes.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Nae mair at Logan kirk will he<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Atween the preachings meet wi' me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Meet wi' me, or, whan it's mirk,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Convoy me hame frae Logan kirk.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I weel may sing thae days are gane&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Frae kirk and fair I come alane,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While my dear lad maun face his faes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Far, far frae me and Logan braes.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">At e'en, when hope amaist is gane,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I daunder dowie and forlane;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I sit alane, beneath the tree<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where aft he kept his tryste wi' me.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh, could I see thae days again,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My lover skaithless, and my ain!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Beloved by friends, revered by faes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We'd live in bliss on Logan braes.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="HELEN_OF_KIRKCONNEL24" id="HELEN_OF_KIRKCONNEL24"></a>HELEN OF KIRKCONNEL.<a name="FNanchor_24_24" id="FNanchor_24_24"></a><a href="#Footnote_24_24" class="fnanchor">[24]</a></h3>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I wish I were where Helen lies,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For night and day on me she cries;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And, like an angel, to the skies<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Still seems to beckon me!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For me she lived, for me she sigh'd,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For me she wish'd to be a bride;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For me in life's sweet morn she died<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On fair Kirkconnel-Lee!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Where Kirtle waters gently wind,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As Helen on my arm reclined,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A rival with a ruthless mind<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Took deadly aim at me.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">My love, to disappoint the foe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Rush'd in between me and the blow;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And now her corse is lying low,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On fair Kirkconnel-Lee!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Though Heaven forbids my wrath to swell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I curse the hand by which she fell&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The fiend who made my heaven a hell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And tore my love from me!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For if, when all the graces shine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh! if on earth there 's aught divine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My Helen! all these charms were thine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They centred all in thee!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Ah! what avails it that, amain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I clove the assassin's head in twain?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No peace of mind, my Helen slain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No resting-place for me.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I see her spirit in the air&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I hear the shriek of wild despair,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When murder laid her bosom bare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On fair Kirkconnel-Lee!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Oh! when I 'm sleeping in my grave,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And o'er my head the rank weeds wave,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">May He who life and spirit gave<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Unite my love and me!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then from this world of doubts and sighs,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My soul on wings of peace shall rise,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And, joining Helen in the skies,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Forget Kirkconnel-Lee.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span></div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="THE_WINTER_SAT_LANG" id="THE_WINTER_SAT_LANG"></a>THE WINTER SAT LANG.</h3>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The winter sat lang on the spring o' the year,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Our seedtime was late, and our mailing was dear;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My mither tint her heart when she look'd on us a',<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And we thought upon those that were farest awa'.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh, were they but here that are farest awa'!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh, were they but here that are dear to us a'!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Our cares would seem light and our sorrow but sma',<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If they were but here that are far frae us a'!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Last week, when our hopes were o'erclouded wi' fear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And nae ane at hame the dull prospect to cheer;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Our Johnnie has written, frae far awa' parts,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A letter that lightens and hauds up our hearts.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He says, "My dear mither, though I be awa',<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In love and affection I 'm still wi' ye a';<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While I hae a being ye 'se aye hae a ha',<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wi' plenty to keep out the frost and the snaw."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">My mither, o'erjoy'd at this change in her state,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By the bairn she doated on early and late,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Gi'es thanks night and day to the Giver of a',<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There 's been naething unworthy o' him that 's awa'!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then here is to them that are far frae us a',<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The friend that ne'er fail'd us, though farest awa'!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Health, peace, and prosperity wait on us a';<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And a blithe comin' hame to the friend that 's awa'!<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span></div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="MY_JOHNNIE" id="MY_JOHNNIE"></a>MY JOHNNIE.</h3>
+
+<p class='center'><span class="smcap">Air</span>&mdash;<i>"Johnnie's Gray Breeks."</i></p>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Jenny's heart was frank and free,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And wooers she had mony, yet<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The sang was aye, "Of a' I see,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Commend me to my Johnnie yet.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For ear' and late, he has sic gate<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To mak' a body cheerie, that<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I wish to be, before I dee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His ain kind dearie yet."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Now Jenny's face was fu' o' grace,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her shape was sma' and genty-like,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And few or nane in a' the place,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Had gowd or gear mair plenty, yet<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Though war's alarms, and Johnnie's charms,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Had gart her oft look eerie, yet<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She sung wi' glee, "I hope to be<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My Johnnie's ain dearie yet.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"What though he's now gane far awa',<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whare guns and cannons rattle, yet<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Unless my Johnnie chance to fa'<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In some uncanny battle, yet<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Till he return my breast will burn<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wi' love that weel may cheer me yet,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For I hope to see, before I dee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His bairns to him endear me yet."<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span></div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="THE_TROOPS_WERE_EMBARKED" id="THE_TROOPS_WERE_EMBARKED"></a>THE TROOPS WERE EMBARKED.</h3>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The troops were all embark'd on board,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The ships were under weigh,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And loving wives, and maids adored,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Were weeping round the bay.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">They parted from their dearest friends,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From all their heart desires;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Rosabel to Heaven commends<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The man her soul admires!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">For him she fled from soft repose,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Renounced a parent's care;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He sails to crush his country's foes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She wanders in despair!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">A seraph in an infant's frame<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Reclined upon her arm;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And sorrow in the lovely dame<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now heighten'd every charm:<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">She thought, if fortune had but smiled&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She thought upon her dear;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But when she look'd upon his child,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh, then ran many a tear!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Ah! who will watch thee as thou sleep'st?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who 'll sing a lullaby,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or rock thy cradle when thou weep'st,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If I should chance to die?"<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">On board the ship, resign'd to fate,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet planning joys to come,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her love in silent sorrow sate<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Upon a broken drum.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">He saw her lonely on the beach;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He saw her on the strand;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And far as human eye can reach<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He saw her wave her hand!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"O Rosabel! though forced to go,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With thee my soul shall dwell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Heaven, who pities human woe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Will comfort Rosabel!"<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span></div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="JOHN_HAMILTON" id="JOHN_HAMILTON"></a>JOHN HAMILTON.</h2>
+
+
+<p>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&mdash;a young lady of birth and fortune&mdash;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.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="THE_RANTIN_HIGHLANDMAN" id="THE_RANTIN_HIGHLANDMAN"></a>THE RANTIN' HIGHLANDMAN.</h3>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Ae morn, last ouk, as I gaed out<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To flit a tether'd ewe and lamb,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I met, as skiffin' ower the green,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A jolly, rantin' Highlandman.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His shape was neat, wi' feature sweet,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And ilka smile my favour wan;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I ne'er had seen sae braw a lad<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As this young rantin' Highlandman.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">He said, "My dear, ye 're sune asteer;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Cam' ye to hear the lav'rock's sang?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh, wad ye gang and wed wi' me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And wed a rantin' Highlandman?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In summer days, on flow'ry braes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When frisky are the ewe and lamb,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I 'se row ye in my tartan plaid,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And be your rantin' Highlandman.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Wi' heather bells, that sweetly smell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I 'll deck your hair, sae fair and lang,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If ye 'll consent to scour the bent<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wi' me, a rantin' Highlandman.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We 'll big a cot, and buy a stock,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Syne do the best that e'er we can;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then come, my dear, ye needna fear<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To trust a rantin' Highlandman."<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">His words, sae sweet, gaed to my heart,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And fain I wad hae gi'en my han';<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet durstna, lest my mither should<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Dislike a rantin' Highlandman.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But I expect he will come back;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then, though my kin should scauld and ban,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I 'll ower the hill, or whare he will,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wi' my young rantin' Highlandman.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="UP_IN_THE_MORNIN_EARLY25" id="UP_IN_THE_MORNIN_EARLY25"></a>UP IN THE MORNIN' EARLY.<a name="FNanchor_25_25" id="FNanchor_25_25"></a><a href="#Footnote_25_25" class="fnanchor">[25]</a></h3>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Cauld blaws the wind frae north to south;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The drift is drifting sairly;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The sheep are cow'rin' in the heuch;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh, sirs, it 's winter fairly!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now, up in the mornin's no for me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Up in the mornin' early;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I'd rather gae supperless to my bed<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Than rise in the mornin' early.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Loud roars the blast amang the woods,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And tirls the branches barely;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On hill and house hear how it thuds!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The frost is nippin' sairly.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now, up in the mornin's no for me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Up in the mornin' early;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To sit a' nicht wad better agree<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Than rise in the mornin' early.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The sun peeps ower yon southland hills,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Like ony timorous carlie;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Just blinks a wee, then sinks again;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And that we find severely.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now, up in the mornin's no for me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Up in the mornin' early;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When snaw blaws in at the chimley cheek,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wha 'd rise in the mornin' early?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Nae linties lilt on hedge or bush:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Poor things! they suffer sairly;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In cauldrife quarters a' the nicht,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A' day they feed but sparely.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now, up in the mornin's no for me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Up in the mornin' early;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A pennyless purse I wad rather dree,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Than rise in the mornin' early.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">A cosie house and canty wife<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Aye keep a body cheerly;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And pantries stowed wi' meat and drink,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They answer unco rarely.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But up in the mornin'&mdash;na, na, na!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Up in the mornin' early!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The gowans maun glint on bank and brae<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When I rise in the mornin' early.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span></div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="GO_TO_BERWICK_JOHNNIE26" id="GO_TO_BERWICK_JOHNNIE26"></a>GO TO BERWICK, JOHNNIE.<a name="FNanchor_26_26" id="FNanchor_26_26"></a><a href="#Footnote_26_26" class="fnanchor">[26]</a></h3>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Go to Berwick, Johnnie;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Bring her frae the Border;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yon sweet bonnie lassie,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Let her gae nae farther.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">English loons will twine ye<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O' the lovely treasure;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But we 'll let them ken<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A sword wi' them we 'll measure.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Go to Berwick, Johnnie,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And regain your honour;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Drive them ower the Tweed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And show our Scottish banner.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I am Rob, the King,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And ye are Jock, my brither;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But, before we lose her,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We 'll a' there thegither.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="MISS_FORBES_FAREWELL_TO_BANFF" id="MISS_FORBES_FAREWELL_TO_BANFF"></a>MISS FORBES' FAREWELL TO BANFF.</h3>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Farewell, ye fields an' meadows green!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The blest retreats of peace an' love;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Aft have I, silent, stolen from hence,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With my young swain a while to rove.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">Sweet was our walk, more sweet our talk,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Among the beauties of the spring;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An' aft we 'd lean us on a bank,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To hear the feather'd warblers sing.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The azure sky, the hills around,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Gave double beauty to the scene;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The lofty spires of Banff in view&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On every side the waving grain.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The tales of love my Jamie told,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In such a saft an' moving strain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Have so engaged my tender heart,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I 'm loth to leave the place again.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But if the Fates will be sae kind<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As favour my return once more,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For to enjoy the peace of mind<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In those retreats I had before:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now, farewell, Banff! the nimble steeds<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Do bear me hence&mdash;I must away;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet time, perhaps, may bring me back,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To part nae mair from scenes so gay.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="TELL_ME_JESSIE_TELL_ME_WHY" id="TELL_ME_JESSIE_TELL_ME_WHY"></a>TELL ME, JESSIE, TELL ME WHY?</h3>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Tell me, Jessie, tell me why<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My fond suit you still deny?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is your bosom cold as snow?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Did you never feel for woe?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Can you hear, without a sigh,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Him complain who for you could die?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If you ever shed a tear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hear me, Jessie, hear, O hear!<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Life to me is not more dear<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Than the hour brings Jessie here;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Death so much I do not fear<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As the parting moment near.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Summer smiles are not so sweet<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As the bloom upon your cheek;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor the crystal dew so clear<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As your eyes to me appear.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">These are part of Jessie's charms,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which the bosom ever warms;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But the charms by which I 'm stung,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Come, O Jessie, from thy tongue!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Jessie, be no longer coy;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Let me taste a lover's joy;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With your hand remove the dart,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And heal the wound that 's in my heart.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="THE_HAWTHORN" id="THE_HAWTHORN"></a>THE HAWTHORN.</h3>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Last midsummer's morning, as going to the fair,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I met with young Jamie, wh'as taking the air;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He ask'd me to stay with him, and indeed he did prevail,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Beneath the pretty hawthorn that blooms in the vale&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That blooms in the valley, that blooms in the vale,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Beneath the pretty hawthorn that blooms in the vale.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">He said he had loved me both long and sincere,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That none on the green was so gentle and fair;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I listen'd with pleasure to Jamie's tender tale,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Beneath the pretty hawthorn that blooms in the vale&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">That blooms in the valley, &amp;c.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Oh, haste," says he, "to hear the birds in the grove,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How charming their song, and enticing to love!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The briers that with roses perfume the passing gale,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And meet the pretty hawthorn that blooms in the vale"&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">That blooms in the valley, &amp;c.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">His words were so moving, and looks soft and kind,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Convinced me the youth had nae guile in his mind;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My heart, too, confess'd him the flower of the dale,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Beneath the pretty hawthorn that blooms in the vale&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">That blooms in the valley, &amp;c.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Yet I oft bade him go, for I could no longer stay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But leave me he would not, nor let me away;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Still pressing his suit, and at last did prevail,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Beneath the pretty hawthorn that blooms in the vale&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">That blooms in the valley, &amp;c.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Now tell me, ye maidens, how could I refuse?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His words were so sweet, and so binding his vows!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We went and were married, and Jamie loves me still,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And we live beside the hawthorn that blooms in the vale&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That blooms in the valley, that blooms in the vale,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We live beside the hawthorn that blooms in the vale.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="OH_BLAW_YE_WESTLIN_WINDS27" id="OH_BLAW_YE_WESTLIN_WINDS27"></a>OH, BLAW, YE WESTLIN' WINDS!<a name="FNanchor_27_27" id="FNanchor_27_27"></a><a href="#Footnote_27_27" class="fnanchor">[27]</a></h3>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Oh, blaw, ye westlin' winds, blaw saft<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Amang the leafy trees!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wi' gentle gale, frae muir and dale,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Bring hame the laden bees;<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">And bring the lassie back to me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That 's aye sae neat and clean;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ae blink of her wad banish care,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sae lovely is my Jean.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">What sighs and vows, amang the knowes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hae pass'd atween us twa!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How fain to meet, how wae to part,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That day she gaed awa'!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Powers aboon can only ken,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To whom the heart is seen,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That nane can be sae dear to me<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As my sweet, lovely Jean.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span></div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="JOANNA_BAILLIE" id="JOANNA_BAILLIE"></a>JOANNA BAILLIE.</h2>
+
+
+<p>Joanna Baillie was born on the 11th of September
+1762, in the manse of Bothwell, in Lanarkshire. Her
+father, Dr James Baillie, was descended from the old
+family of Baillie of Lamington, and was consequently
+entitled to claim propinquity with the distinguished
+Principal Robert Baillie, and the family of Baillie of
+Jerviswood, so celebrated for its Christian patriotism.
+The mother of Joanna likewise belonged to an honourable
+house: she was a descendant of the Hunters of
+Hunterston; and her two brothers attained a wide reputation
+in the world of science&mdash;Dr William Hunter
+being an eminent physician, and Mr John Hunter the
+greatest anatomist of his age. Joanna&mdash;a twin, the
+other child being still-born&mdash;was the youngest of a
+family of three children. Her only brother was Dr
+Matthew Baillie, highly distinguished in the medical
+world. Agnes, her sister, who was eldest of the family, remained
+unmarried, and continued to live with her under
+the same roof.</p>
+
+<p>In the year 1768, Dr Baillie was transferred from the
+parochial charge of Bothwell to the office of collegiate
+minister of Hamilton,&mdash;a town situate, like his former
+parish, on the banks of the Clyde. He was subse<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span>quently
+elected Professor of Divinity in the University
+of Glasgow. After his death, which took place in 1778,
+his daughters both continued, along with their widowed
+mother, to live at Long Calderwood, in the vicinity of
+Hamilton, until 1784, when they all accepted an invitation
+to reside with Dr Matthew Baillie, who had
+entered on his medical career in London, and had
+become possessor of a house in Great Windmill Street,
+built by his now deceased uncle, Dr Hunter.</p>
+
+<p>Though evincing no peculiar promptitude in the acquisition
+of learning, Joanna had, at the very outset of
+life, exhibited remarkable talent in rhyme-making. She
+composed verses before she could read, and, before she
+could have fancied a theatre, formed dialogues for dramatic
+representations, which she carried on with her
+companions. But she did not early seek distinction as
+an author. At the somewhat mature age of twenty-eight,
+after she had gone to London, she first published,
+and that anonymously, a volume of miscellaneous
+poems, which did not excite any particular attention.
+In 1798, she published, though anonymously at first,
+"A Series of Plays: in which it is attempted to delineate
+the stronger Passions of the Mind, each Passion
+being the subject of a Tragedy and a Comedy." In a
+lengthened preliminary dissertation, she discoursed regarding
+the drama in all its relations, maintaining the
+ascendency of simple nature over every species of adornment
+and decoration. "Let one simple trait of the
+human heart, one expression of passion, genuine and
+true to nature," she wrote, "be introduced, and it will
+stand forth alone in the boldness of reality, whilst the
+false and unnatural around it fades away upon every
+side, like the rising exhalations of the morning." The
+reception of these plays was sufficient to satisfy the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span>
+utmost ambition of the author, and established the foundation
+of her fame. "Nothing to compare with them
+had been produced since the great days of the English
+drama; and the truth, vigour, variety, and dignity of
+the dramatic portraits, in which they abound, might well
+justify an enthusiasm which a reader of the present day
+can scarcely be expected to feel. This enthusiasm
+was all the greater, when it became known that these
+remarkable works, which had been originally published
+anonymously, were from the pen of a woman still
+young, who had passed her life in domestic seclusion."<a name="FNanchor_28_28" id="FNanchor_28_28"></a><a href="#Footnote_28_28" class="fnanchor">[28]</a>
+Encouraged by the success of the first volume of her
+dramas on the "Passions," the author added a second in
+1802, and a third in 1812. During the interval, she
+published a volume of miscellaneous dramas in 1804,
+and produced the "Family Legend" in 1810,&mdash;a
+tragedy, founded upon a Highland tradition. With a
+prologue by Sir Walter Scott, and an epilogue by
+Henry Mackenzie, the "Family Legend" was produced
+at the Edinburgh theatre, under the auspices of the former
+illustrious character; and was ably supported by Mrs
+Siddons, and by Terry, then at the commencement of
+his career. It was favourably received during ten successive
+performances. "You have only to imagine all
+that you could wish to give success to a play," wrote Sir
+Walter Scott to the author, "and your conceptions will
+still fall short of the complete and decided triumph of
+the 'Family Legend.' The house was crowded to a
+most extraordinary degree; many people had come from
+your native capital of the west; everything that pretended
+to distinction, whether from rank or literature,
+was in the boxes; and in the pit, such an aggregate
+mass of humanity as I have seldom, if ever, witnessed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span>
+in the same space." Other two of her plays, "Count
+Basil" and "De Montfort," brought out in London, the
+latter being sustained by Kemble and Siddons, likewise
+received a large measure of general approbation; but a
+want of variety of incident prevented their retaining a
+position on the stage. In 1836, she produced three
+additional volumes of dramas; her career as a dramatic
+writer thus extending over the period of nearly forty
+years.</p>
+
+<p>Subsequent to her leaving Scotland, in 1784, Joanna
+Baillie did not return to her native kingdom, unless on
+occasional visits. On the marriage of her brother to a
+sister of the Lord Chief-Justice Denman, in 1791, she
+passed some years at Colchester; but she subsequently
+fixed her permanent habitation at Hampstead. Her
+mother died in 1806. At Hampstead, in the companionship
+of her only sister, whose virtues she has celebrated
+in one of her poems, and amidst the society of
+many of the more distinguished literary characters of
+the metropolis, she continued to enjoy a large amount
+of comfort and happiness. Her pecuniary means were
+sufficiently abundant, and rendered her entirely independent
+of the profits of her writings. Among her literary
+friends, one of the most valued was Sir Walter
+Scott, who, being introduced to her personal acquaintance
+on his visit to London in 1806, maintained with
+her an affectionate and lasting intimacy. The letters
+addressed to her are amongst the most interesting of his
+correspondence in his Memoir by his son-in-law. He
+evinced his estimation of her genius by frequently complimenting
+her in his works. In his "Epistle to William
+Erskine," which forms the introduction to the
+third canto of "Marmion," he thus generously eulogises
+his gifted friend:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span>&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Or, if to touch such chord be thine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Restore the ancient tragic line,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And emulate the notes that wrung<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From the wild harp, which silent hung<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By silver Avon's holy shore,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Till twice a hundred years roll'd o'er;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When she, the bold Enchantress, came,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With fearless hand and heart on flame!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From the pale willow snatch'd the treasure,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And swept it with a kindred measure,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Till Avon's swans, while rung the grove<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With Montfort's hate and Basil's love,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Awakening at the inspir&eacute;d strain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Deem'd their own Shakspeare lived again."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>To Joanna, Scott inscribed his fragmental drama of
+"Macduff's Cross," which was included in a Miscellany
+published by her in 1823.</p>
+
+<p>Though a penury of incident, and a defectiveness of
+skill in sustaining an increasing interest to the close,
+will probably prevent any of her numerous plays from
+being renewed on the stage, Joanna Baillie is well
+entitled to the place assigned her as one of the first
+of modern dramatists. In all her plays there are passages
+and scenes surpassed by no contemporaneous
+dramatic writer. Her works are a magazine of eloquent
+thoughts and glowing descriptions. She is a mistress
+of the emotions, and</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i11">"Within <i>her</i> mighty page,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Each tyrant passion shews his woe and rage."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>The tragedies of "Count Basil" and "De Montfort"
+are her best plays, and are well termed by Sir Walter
+Scott a revival of the great Bard of Avon. Forcible
+and energetic in style, her strain never becomes turgid
+or diverges into commonplace. She is masculine, but
+graceful; and powerful without any ostentation of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span>
+strength. Her personal history was the counterpart of
+her writings. Gentle in manners and affable in conversation,
+she was a model of the household virtues, and
+would have attracted consideration as a woman by her
+amenities, though she had possessed no reputation in
+the world of letters. She was eminently religious and
+benevolent. Her countenance bore indication of a superior
+intellect and deep penetration. Though her society
+was much cherished by her contemporaries, including
+distinguished foreigners who visited the metropolis, her
+life was spent in general retirement. She was averse to
+public demonstration, and seemed scarcely conscious of
+her power. She died at Hampstead, on the 23d of
+February 1851, at the very advanced age of eighty-nine,
+and a few weeks after the publication of her whole
+Works in a collected form.</p>
+
+<p>The songs of Joanna Baillie immediately obtained an
+honourable place in the minstrelsy of her native kingdom.
+They are the simple and graceful effusions of a
+heart passionately influenced by the melodies of the
+"land of the heath and the thistle," and animated by
+those warm affections so peculiarly nurtured in the region
+of "the mountain and the flood." "Fy, let us a' to the
+wedding," "Saw ye Johnnie comin'?" "It fell on a morning
+when we were thrang," and "Woo'd, and married, and
+a'," maintain popularity among all classes of Scotsmen
+throughout the world. Several of the songs were written
+for Thomson's "Melodies," and "The Harp of Caledonia,"
+a collection of songs published at Glasgow in
+1821, in three vols. 12mo, under the editorial care of
+John Struthers, author of "The Poor Man's Sabbath."
+The greater number are included in the present work.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="THE_MAID_OF_LLANWELLYN" id="THE_MAID_OF_LLANWELLYN"></a>THE MAID OF LLANWELLYN.</h3>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I 've no sheep on the mountain, nor boat on the lake,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor coin in my coffer to keep me awake,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor corn in my garner, nor fruit on my tree&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet the maid of Llanwellyn smiles sweetly on me.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Soft tapping, at eve, to her window I came,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And loud bay'd the watch-dog, loud scolded the dame;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For shame, silly Lightfoot; what is it to thee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Though the maid of Llanwellyn smiles sweetly on me?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Rich Owen will tell you, with eyes full of scorn,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Threadbare is my coat, and my hosen are torn:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Scoff on, my rich Owen, for faint is thy glee<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When the maid of Llanwellyn smiles sweetly on me.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The farmer rides proudly to market or fair,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The clerk, at the alehouse, still claims the great chair;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But of all our proud fellows the proudest I 'll be,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While the maid of Llanwellyn smiles sweetly on me.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">For blythe as the urchin at holiday play,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And meek as the matron in mantle of gray,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And trim as the lady of gentle degree,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is the maid of Llanwellyn who smiles upon me.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span></div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="GOOD_NIGHT_GOOD_NIGHT" id="GOOD_NIGHT_GOOD_NIGHT"></a>GOOD NIGHT, GOOD NIGHT!</h3>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The sun is sunk, the day is done,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">E'en stars are setting one by one;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor torch nor taper longer may<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Eke out the pleasures of the day;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And since, in social glee's despite,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It needs must be, Good night, good night!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The bride into her bower is sent,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And ribbald rhyme and jesting spent;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The lover's whisper'd words and few<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Have bade the bashful maid adieu;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The dancing-floor is silent quite&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No foot bounds there, Good night, good night!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The lady in her curtain'd bed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The herdsman in his wattled shed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The clansman in the heather'd hall,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sweet sleep be with you, one and all!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We part in hope of days as bright<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As this now gone&mdash;Good night, good night!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Sweet sleep be with us, one and all!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And if upon its stillness fall<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The visions of a busy brain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We 'll have our pleasure o'er again;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To warm the heart, to charm the sight,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Gay dreams to all! Good night, good night!<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span></div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="THOUGH_RICHER_SWAINS_THY_LOVE" id="THOUGH_RICHER_SWAINS_THY_LOVE"></a>THOUGH RICHER SWAINS THY LOVE
+PURSUE.</h3>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Though richer swains thy love pursue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In Sunday gear and bonnets new;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And every fair before thee lay<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Their silken gifts, with colours gay&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They love thee not, alas! so well<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As one who sighs, and dare not tell;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who haunts thy dwelling, night and noon,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In tatter'd hose and clouted shoon.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I grieve not for my wayward lot,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My empty folds, my roofless cot;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor hateful pity, proudly shown,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor altered looks, nor friendship flown;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor yet my dog, with lanken sides,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who by his master still abides;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But how wilt thou prefer my boon,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In tatter'd hose and clouted shoon?<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="POVERTY_PARTS_GUDE_COMPANIE29" id="POVERTY_PARTS_GUDE_COMPANIE29"></a>POVERTY PARTS GUDE COMPANIE.<a name="FNanchor_29_29" id="FNanchor_29_29"></a><a href="#Footnote_29_29" class="fnanchor">[29]</a></h3>
+
+<p class='center'><span class="smcap">Air</span>&mdash;<i>"Todlin' Hame."</i></p>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When white was my owrelay as foam of the linn,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And siller was chinking my pouches within;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When my lambkins were bleating on meadow and brae,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As I gaed to my love in new cleeding sae gay&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Kind was she, and my friends were free;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">But poverty parts gude companie.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">How swift pass'd the minutes and hours of delight!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The piper play'd cheerly, the cruisie burn'd bright;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And link'd in my hand was the maiden sae dear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As she footed the floor in her holiday gear.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Woe is me! and can it then be,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">That poverty parts sic companie?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">We met at the fair, and we met at the kirk;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We met in the sunshine, we met in the mirk;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the sound of her voice, and the blinks of her een,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The cheering and life of my bosom have been.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Leaves frae the tree at Martinmas flee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And poverty parts sweet companie.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">At bridal and in fair I 've braced me wi' pride,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The <i>bruse</i> I hae won, and a kiss of the bride;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And loud was the laughter, gay fellows among,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When I utter'd my banter, or chorus'd my song.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Dowie to dree are jesting and glee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">When poverty parts gude companie.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Wherever I gaed the blythe lasses smiled sweet,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And mithers and aunties were mair than discreet,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While kebbuck and bicker were set on the board;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But now they pass by me, and never a word.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">So let it be; for the worldly and slie<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Wi' poverty keep nae companie.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But the hope of my love is a cure for its smart;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The spaewife has tauld me to keep up my heart;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For wi' my last sixpence her loof I hae cross'd,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the bliss that is fated can never be lost.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Cruelly though we ilka day see<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">How poverty parts dear companie.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span></div></div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="FY_LET_US_A_TO_THE_WEDDING30" id="FY_LET_US_A_TO_THE_WEDDING30"></a>FY, LET US A' TO THE WEDDING.<a name="FNanchor_30_30" id="FNanchor_30_30"></a><a href="#Footnote_30_30" class="fnanchor">[30]</a></h3>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Fy, let us a' to the wedding,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For they will be lilting there;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For Jock's to be married to Maggie,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The lass wi' the gowden hair.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And there will be jilting and jeering,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And glancing of bonnie dark een;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Loud laughing and smooth-gabbit speering<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O' questions, baith pawky and keen.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And there will be Bessy, the beauty,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wha raises her cock-up sae hie,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And giggles at preachings and duty;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Gude grant that she gang nae ajee!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And there will be auld Geordie Tanner,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wha coft a young wife wi' his gowd;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She 'll flaunt wi' a silk gown upon her,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But, wow! he looks dowie and cowed.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And braw Tibby Fowler, the heiress,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Will perk at the top o' the ha',<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Encircled wi' suitors, whase care is<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To catch up the gloves when they fa'.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Repeat a' her jokes as they 're cleckit,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And haver and glower in her face,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When tocherless Mays are negleckit&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A crying and scandalous case.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And Mysie, whase clavering aunty<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wad match her wi' Jamie, the laird;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And learns the young fouk to be vaunty,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But neither to spin nor to caird.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Andrew, whase granny is yearning<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To see him a clerical blade,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Was sent to the college for learning,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And cam' back a coof, as he gaed.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And there will be auld Widow Martin,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That ca's hersel' thretty and twa!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And thrawn-gabbit Madge, wha for certain<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Was jilted by Hab o' the Shaw.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Elspy, the sewster, sae genty&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A pattern of havens and sense&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Will straik on her mittens sae dainty,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And crack wi' Mess John in the spence.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And Angus, the seer o' ferlies,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That sits on the stane at his door,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And tells about bogles, and mair lies<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Than tongue ever utter'd before.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And there will be Bauldy, the boaster,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sae ready wi' hands and wi' tongue;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Proud Paty and silly Sam Foster,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wha quarrel wi' auld and wi' young.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And Hugh, the town-writer, I 'm thinking,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That trades in his lawyerly skill,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Will egg on the fighting and drinking,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To bring after grist to his mill.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Maggie&mdash;na, na! we 'll be civil,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And let the wee bridie abee;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A vilipend tongue it is evil,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And ne'er was encouraged by me.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Then fy, let us a' to the wedding,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For they will be lilting there,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Frae mony a far-distant ha'ding,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The fun and the feasting to share.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For they will get sheep's-head and haggis,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And browst o' the barley-mow;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">E'en he that comes latest and lagis<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">May feast upon dainties enow.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Veal florentines, in the o'en baken,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Weel plenish'd wi' raisins and fat;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Beef, mutton, and chuckies, a' taken<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Het reekin' frae spit and frae pat.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And glasses (I trow 'tis nae said ill)<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To drink the young couple gude luck,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Weel fill'd wi' a braw beechen ladle,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Frae punch-bowl as big as Dumbuck.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And then will come dancing and daffing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And reelin' and crossin' o' han's,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Till even auld Lucky is laughing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As back by the aumry she stan's.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sic bobbing, and flinging, and whirling,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While fiddlers are making their din;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And pipers are droning and skirling,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As loud as the roar o' the linn.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Then fy, let us a' to the wedding,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For they will be lilting there;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For Jock 's to be married to Maggie,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The lass wi' the gowden hair.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span></div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="HOOLY_AND_FAIRLY31" id="HOOLY_AND_FAIRLY31"></a>HOOLY AND FAIRLY.<a name="FNanchor_31_31" id="FNanchor_31_31"></a><a href="#Footnote_31_31" class="fnanchor">[31]</a></h3>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Oh, neighbours! what had I to do for to marry?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My wife she drinks posset and wine o' Canary;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And ca's me a niggardly, thrawn-gabbit cairly.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O gin my wife wad drink hooly and fairly!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hooly and fairly, hooly and fairly;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O gin my wife wad drink hooly and fairly!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">She sups, wi' her kimmers, on dainties enow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Aye bowing, and smirking, and wiping her mou';<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While I sit aside, and am helpit but sparely.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O gin my wife wad feast hooly and fairly!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hooly and fairly, hooly and fairly;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O gin my wife wad feast hooly and fairly!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">To fairs, and to bridals, and preachings an' a',<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She gangs sae light-headed, and buskit sae braw,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In ribbons and mantuas, that gar me gae barely.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O gin my wife wad spend hooly and fairly!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hooly and fairly, hooly and fairly;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O gin my wife wad spend hooly and fairly!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I' the kirk sic commotion last Sabbath she made,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wi' babs o' red roses, and breast-knots o'erlaid;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The dominie stickit the psalm very nearly.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O gin my wife wad dress hooly and fairly!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hooly and fairly, hooly and fairly;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O gin my wife wad dress hooly and fairly!<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">She 's warring and flyting frae mornin' till e'en,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And if ye gainsay her, her een glower sae keen;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then tongue, neive, and cudgel, she 'll lay on me sairly.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O gin my wife wad strike hooly and fairly!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hooly and fairly, hooly and fairly;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O gin my wife wad strike hooly and fairly!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When tired wi' her cantrips, she lies in her bed&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The wark a' negleckit, the chalmer unred&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While a' our gude neighbours are stirring sae early.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O gin my wife wad wark timely and fairly!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Timely and fairly, timely and fairly;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O gin my wife wad wark timely and fairly!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">A word o' gude counsel or grace she 'll hear none;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She bandies the elders, and mocks at Mess John;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While back in his teeth his own text she flings sairly.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O gin my wife wad speak hooly and fairly!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hooly and fairly, hooly and fairly;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O gin my wife wad speak hooly and fairly!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I wish I were single, I wish I were freed;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I wish I were doited, I wish I were dead;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or she in the mouls, to dement me nae mairly.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What does it 'vail to cry, Hooly and fairly!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hooly and fairly, hooly and fairly;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wasting my health to cry, Hooly and fairly.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span></div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="THE_WEARY_PUND_O_TOW" id="THE_WEARY_PUND_O_TOW"></a>THE WEARY PUND O' TOW.</h3>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">A young gudewife is in my house,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">And thrifty means to be,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">But aye she 's runnin' to the town<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Some ferlie there to see.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The weary pund, the weary pund, the weary pund o' tow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I soothly think, ere it be spun, I 'll wear a lyart pow.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">And when she sets her to her wheel,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">To draw her threads wi' care,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">In comes the chapman wi' his gear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">And she can spin nae mair.<br /></span>
+<span class="i18">The weary pund, &amp;c.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">And then like ony merry May,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">At fairs maun still be seen,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">At kirkyard preachings near the tent,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">At dances on the green.<br /></span>
+<span class="i18">The weary pund, &amp;c.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">Her dainty ear a fiddle charms,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">A bagpipe 's her delight,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">But for the crooning o' her wheel<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">She disna care a mite.<br /></span>
+<span class="i18">The weary pund, &amp;c.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">"You spake, my Kate, of snaw-white webs<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Made o' your hinkum twine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">But, ah! I fear our bonnie burn<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Will ne'er lave web o' thine.<br /></span>
+<span class="i18">The weary pund, &amp;c.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">"Nay, smile again, my winsome mate,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Sic jeering means nae ill;<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Should I gae sarkless to my grave,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">I'll loe and bless thee still."<br /></span>
+<span class="i18">The weary pund, &amp;c.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="THE_WEE_PICKLE_TOW32" id="THE_WEE_PICKLE_TOW32"></a>THE WEE PICKLE TOW.<a name="FNanchor_32_32" id="FNanchor_32_32"></a><a href="#Footnote_32_32" class="fnanchor">[32]</a></h3>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">A lively young lass had a wee pickle tow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And she thought to try the spinnin' o't;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She sat by the fire, and her rock took alow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And that was an ill beginnin' o't.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Loud and shrill was the cry that she utter'd, I ween;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The sudden mischanter brought tears to her een;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her face it was fair, but her temper was keen;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O dole for the ill beginnin' o't!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">She stamp'd on the floor, and her twa hands she wrung,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her bonny sweet mou' she crookit, O!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And fell was the outbreak o' words frae her tongue;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Like ane sair demented she lookit, O!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"Foul fa' the inventor o' rock and o' reel!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I hope, gude forgi'e me! he 's now wi' the d&mdash;l,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He brought us mair trouble than help, wot I weel;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O dole for the ill beginnin' o't!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"And now, when they 're spinnin' and kempin' awa',<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They 'll talk o' my rock and the burnin' o't,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While Tibbie, and Mysie, and Maggie, and a',<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Into some silly joke will be turnin' it:<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">They 'll say I was doited, they 'll say I was fu';<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They 'll say I was dowie, and Robin untrue;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They 'll say in the fire some luve-powther I threw,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And that made the ill beginning o't.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"O curst be the day, and unchancy the hour,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When I sat me adown to the spinnin' o't!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then some evil spirit or warlock had power,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And made sic an ill beginnin' o't.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">May Spunkie my feet to the boggie betray,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The lunzie folk steal my new kirtle away,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Robin forsake me for douce Effie Gray,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The next time I try the spinnin' o't."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="THE_GOWAN_GLITTERS_ON_THE_SWARD" id="THE_GOWAN_GLITTERS_ON_THE_SWARD"></a>THE GOWAN GLITTERS ON THE SWARD.</h3>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The gowan glitters on the sward,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The lav'rock's in the sky,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And collie on my plaid keeps ward,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And time is passing by.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh, no! sad and slow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And lengthen'd on the ground;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The shadow of our trysting bush<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It wears so slowly round.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">My sheep-bells tinkle frae the west,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My lambs are bleating near;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But still the sound that I lo'e best,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Alack! I canna hear.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh, no! sad and slow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The shadow lingers still;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And like a lanely ghaist I stand,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And croon upon the hill.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I hear below the water roar,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The mill wi' clacking din,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And lucky scolding frae the door,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To ca' the bairnies in.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh, no! sad and slow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">These are nae sounds for me;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The shadow of our trysting bush<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It creeps sae drearily!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I coft yestreen, frae chapman Tam,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A snood o' bonnie blue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And promised, when our trysting cam',<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To tie it round her brow.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh, no! sad and slow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The mark it winna pass;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The shadow o' that dreary bush<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is tether'd on the grass.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">O now I see her on the way!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She 's past the witch's knowe;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She 's climbing up the brownie's brae&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My heart is in a lowe.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh, no! 'tis not so,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'Tis glamrie I hae seen;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The shadow o' that hawthorn bush<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Will move nae mair till e'en.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">My book o' grace I 'll try to read,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Though conn'd wi' little skill;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When collie barks I 'll raise my head,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And find her on the hill.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh, no! sad and slow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The time will ne'er be gane;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The shadow o' our trysting bush<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is fix'd like ony stane.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span></div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="SAW_YE_JOHNNIE_COMIN" id="SAW_YE_JOHNNIE_COMIN"></a>SAW YE JOHNNIE COMIN'?</h3>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Saw ye Johnnie comin'?" quo' she;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"Saw ye Johnnie comin'?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wi' his blue bonnet on his head,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And his doggie rinnin'.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yestreen, about the gloamin' time,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I chanced to see him comin',<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whistling merrily the tune<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That I am a' day hummin'," quo' she;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"I am a' day hummin'.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Fee him, faither, fee him," quo' she;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"Fee him, faither, fee him;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A' the wark about the house<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Gaes wi' me when I see him:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A' the wark about the house<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I gang sae lightly through it;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And though ye pay some merks o' gear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hoot! ye winna rue it," quo' she;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"No; ye winna rue it."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"What wad I do wi' him, hizzy?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What wad I do wi' him?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He 's ne'er a sark upon his back,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And I hae nane to gi'e him."<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"I hae twa sarks into my kist,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And ane o' them I 'll gi'e him;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And for a merk o' mair fee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh, dinna stand wi' him," quo' she;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"Dinna stand wi' him.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Weel do I lo'e him," quo' she;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"Weel do I lo'e him;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The brawest lads about the place<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Are a' but hav'rels to him.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh, fee him, father; lang, I trow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We 've dull and dowie been:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He 'll haud the plough, thrash i' the barn,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And crack wi' me at e'en," quo' she;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"Crack wi' me at e'en."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="IT_FELL_ON_A_MORNING33" id="IT_FELL_ON_A_MORNING33"></a>IT FELL ON A MORNING.<a name="FNanchor_33_33" id="FNanchor_33_33"></a><a href="#Footnote_33_33" class="fnanchor">[33]</a></h3>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">It fell on a morning when we were thrang&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Our kirn was gaun, our cheese was making,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And bannocks on the girdle baking&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That ane at the door chapp'd loud and lang;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But the auld gudewife, and her Mays sae tight,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of this stirring and din took sma' notice, I ween;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For a chap at the door in braid daylight<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is no like a chap when heard at e'en.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Then the clocksie auld laird of the warlock glen,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wha stood without, half cow'd, half cheerie.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And yearn'd for a sight of his winsome dearie,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Raised up the latch and came crousely ben.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His coat was new, and his owrelay was white,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And his hose and his mittens were coozy and bein;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But a wooer that comes in braid daylight<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is no like a wooer that comes at e'en.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">He greeted the carlin' and lasses sae braw,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And his bare lyart pow he smoothly straikit,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And looked about, like a body half glaikit,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On bonny sweet Nanny, the youngest of a':<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"Ha, ha!" quo' the carlin', "and look ye that way?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hoot! let nae sic fancies bewilder ye clean&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An elderlin' man, i' the noon o' the day,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Should be wiser than youngsters that come at e'en."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Na, na," quo' the pawky auld wife; "I trow<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You 'll fash na your head wi' a youthfu' gilly,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As wild and as skeigh as a muirland filly;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Black Madge is far better and fitter for you."<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He hem'd and he haw'd, and he screw'd in his mouth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And he squeezed his blue bonnet his twa hands between;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For wooers that come when the sun 's in the south<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Are mair awkward than wooers that come at e'en.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Black Madge she is prudent." "What 's that to me?"<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"She is eident and sober, has sense in her noddle&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is douce and respeckit." "I carena a boddle;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I 'll baulk na my luve, and my fancy 's free."<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Madge toss'd back her head wi' a saucy slight,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Nanny run laughing out to the green;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For wooers that come when the sun shines bright<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Are no like the wooers that come at e'en.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Awa' flung the laird, and loud mutter'd he,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"All the daughters of Eve, between Orkney and Tweed, O:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Black and fair, young and old, dame, damsel, and widow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">May gang, wi' their pride, to the wuddy for me."<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">But the auld gudewife, and her Mays sae tight,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For a' his loud banning cared little, I ween;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For a wooer that comes in braid daylight<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is no like a wooer that comes at e'en.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="WOOD_AND_MARRIED_AND_A34" id="WOOD_AND_MARRIED_AND_A34"></a>WOO'D, AND MARRIED, AND A'.<a name="FNanchor_34_34" id="FNanchor_34_34"></a><a href="#Footnote_34_34" class="fnanchor">[34]</a></h3>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The bride she is winsome and bonnie,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her hair it is snooded sae sleek;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And faithful and kind is her Johnnie,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet fast fa' the tears on her cheek.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">New pearlings are cause o' her sorrow&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">New pearlings and plenishing too;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The bride that has a' to borrow<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Has e'en right muckle ado.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Woo'd, and married, and a';<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Woo'd, and married, and a';<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And is na she very weel aff,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To be woo'd, and married, and a'?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Her mither then hastily spak&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"The lassie is glaikit wi' pride;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In my pouches I hadna a plack<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The day that I was a bride.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">E'en tak to your wheel and be clever,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And draw out your thread in the sun;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The gear that is gifted, it never<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Will last like the gear that is won.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">Woo'd, and married, an' a',<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Tocher and havings sae sma';<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I think ye are very weel aff<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To be woo'd, and married, and a'."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Toot, toot!" quo' the gray-headed faither;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"She 's less of a bride than a bairn;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She 's ta'en like a cowt frae the heather,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wi' sense and discretion to learn.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Half husband, I trow, and half daddy,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As humour inconstantly leans;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A chiel maun be constant and steady,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That yokes wi' a mate in her teens.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Kerchief to cover so neat,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Locks the winds used to blaw;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I 'm baith like to laugh and to greet,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When I think o' her married at a'."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Then out spak the wily bridegroom,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Weel waled were his wordies, I ween,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"I 'm rich, though my coffer be toom,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wi' the blinks o' your bonnie blue een;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I 'm prouder o' thee by my side,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Though thy ruffles or ribbons be few,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Than if Kate o' the Craft were my bride,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wi' purples and pearlings enew.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Dear and dearest of ony,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I 've woo'd, and bookit, and a';<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And do you think scorn o' your Johnnie,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And grieve to be married at a'?"<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">She turn'd, and she blush'd, and she smiled,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And she lookit sae bashfully down;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The pride o' her heart was beguiled,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And she play'd wi' the sleeve o' her gown;<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">She twirl'd the tag o' her lace,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And she nippit her boddice sae blue;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Syne blinkit sae sweet in his face,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And aff like a maukin she flew.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Woo'd, and married, and a',<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Married and carried awa';<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She thinks hersel' very weel aff,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To be woo'd, and married, and a'.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span></div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="WILLIAM_DUDGEON" id="WILLIAM_DUDGEON"></a>WILLIAM DUDGEON.</h2>
+
+
+<p>Though the author of a single popular song, William
+Dudgeon is entitled to a place among the modern contributors
+to the Caledonian minstrelsy. Of his personal
+history, only a very few facts have been recovered. He
+was the son of a farmer in East-Lothian, and himself
+rented an extensive farm at Preston, in Berwickshire.
+During his border tour in May 1787, the poet Burns
+met him at Berrywell, the residence of the father of his
+friend Mr Robert Ainslie, who acted as land-steward on
+the estate of Lord Douglas in the Merse. In his journal,
+Burns has thus recorded his impression of the
+meeting:&mdash;"A Mr Dudgeon, a poet at times, a worthy,
+remarkable character, natural penetration, a great deal
+of information, some genius, and extreme modesty."
+Dudgeon died in October 1813, about his sixtieth year.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="UP_AMONG_YON_CLIFFY_ROCKS" id="UP_AMONG_YON_CLIFFY_ROCKS"></a>UP AMONG YON CLIFFY ROCKS.</h3>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Up among yon cliffy rocks<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sweetly rings the rising echo,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To the maid that tends the goats<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Lilting o'er her native notes.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hark, she sings, "Young Sandy 's kind,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An' he 's promised aye to lo'e me;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Here 's a brooch I ne'er shall tine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Till he 's fairly married to me.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Drive away, ye drone, Time,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And bring about our bridal day.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Sandy herds a flock o' sheep;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Aften does he blaw the whistle<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In a strain sae saftly sweet,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Lammies list'ning daurna bleat.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He 's as fleet 's the mountain roe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hardy as the Highland heather,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wading through the winter snow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Keeping aye his flock together;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But a plaid, wi' bare houghs,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He braves the bleakest norlan' blast.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Brawly can he dance and sing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Canty glee or Highland cronach;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nane can ever match his fling,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">At a reel or round a ring,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In a brawl he 's aye the bangster:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A' his praise can ne'er be sung<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By the langest-winded sangster;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sangs that sing o' Sandy,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Seem short, though they were e'er sae lang."<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span></div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="WILLIAM_REID" id="WILLIAM_REID"></a>WILLIAM REID.</h2>
+
+
+<p>William Reid was born at Glasgow on the 10th of
+April 1764. His father, a baker by trade, was enabled
+to give him a good education at the school of his native
+city. At an early age he was apprenticed to Messrs
+Dunlop and Wilson, booksellers; and in the year 1790,
+along with another enterprising individual, he commenced
+a bookselling establishment, under the firm of
+"Brash and Reid." In this business, both partners
+became eminently successful, their shop being frequented
+by the <i>literati</i> of the West. The poet Burns
+cultivated the society of Mr Reid, who proved a warm
+friend, as he was an ardent admirer, of the Ayrshire
+bard. He was an enthusiastic patron of literature, was
+fond of social humour, and a zealous promoter of the
+interests of Scottish song. Between 1795 and 1798, the
+firm published in numbers, at one penny each, "Poetry,
+Original and Selected," which extended to four volumes.
+To this publication, both Mr Reid, and his partner, Mr
+Brash, made some original contributions. The work is
+now very scarce, and is accounted valuable by collectors.
+Mr Reid died at Glasgow, on the 29th of November
+1831, leaving a widow and a family.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="THE_LEA_RIG35" id="THE_LEA_RIG35"></a>THE LEA RIG.<a name="FNanchor_35_35" id="FNanchor_35_35"></a><a href="#Footnote_35_35" class="fnanchor">[35]</a></h3>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Will ye gang o'er the lea rig,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My ain kind dearie, O!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And cuddle there fu' kindly<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wi' me, my kind dearie, O!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">At thorny bush, or birken tree,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We 'll daff and never weary, O!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They 'll scug ill een frae you and me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My ain kind dearie, O!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Nae herds wi' kent or colly there,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shall ever come to fear ye, O!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But lav'rocks, whistling in the air,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shall woo, like me, their dearie, O!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While ithers herd their lambs and ewes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And toil for warld's gear, my jo,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Upon the lea my pleasure grows,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wi' thee, my kind dearie, O!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">At gloamin', if my lane I be,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh, but I'm wondrous eerie, O!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And mony a heavy sigh I gie,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When absent frae my dearie, O!<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">But seated 'neath the milk-white thorn,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In ev'ning fair and clearie, O!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Enraptured, a' my cares I scorn,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When wi' my kind dearie, O!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Whare through the birks the burnie rows,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Aft hae I sat fu' cheerie, O!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Upon the bonny greensward howes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wi' thee, my kind dearie, O!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I've courted till I've heard the craw<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of honest chanticleerie, O!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet never miss'd my sleep ava,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whan wi' my kind dearie, O!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">For though the night were ne'er sae dark,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And I were ne'er sae weary, O!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I'd meet thee on the lea rig,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My ain kind dearie, O!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While in this weary world of wae,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">This wilderness sae dreary, O!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What makes me blythe, and keeps me sae?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'Tis thee, my kind dearie, O!<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="JOHN_ANDERSON_MY_JO36" id="JOHN_ANDERSON_MY_JO36"></a>JOHN ANDERSON, MY JO.<a name="FNanchor_36_36" id="FNanchor_36_36"></a><a href="#Footnote_36_36" class="fnanchor">[36]</a></h3>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">John Anderson, my jo, John,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I wonder what ye mean,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To rise sae early in the morn,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And sit sae late at e'en;<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">Ye 'll blear out a' your een, John,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And why should you do so?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Gang sooner to your bed at e'en,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">John Anderson, my jo.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">John Anderson, my jo, John,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When Nature first began<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To try her canny hand, John,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her masterpiece was man;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And you amang them a', John,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sae trig frae tap to toe&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She proved to be nae journeyman,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">John Anderson, my jo.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">John Anderson, my jo, John,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ye were my first conceit;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And ye needna think it strange, John,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That I ca' ye trim and neat;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Though some folks say ye 're auld, John,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I never think ye so;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But I think ye 're aye the same to me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">John Anderson, my jo.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">John Anderson, my jo, John,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We 've seen our bairns' bairns;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And yet, my dear John Anderson,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I 'm happy in your arms;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And sae are ye in mine, John,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I 'm sure ye 'll ne'er say, No;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Though the days are gane that we have seen,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">John Anderson, my jo.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span></div></div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="FAIR_MODEST_FLOWER" id="FAIR_MODEST_FLOWER"></a>FAIR, MODEST FLOWER.</h3>
+
+<p class='center'><span class="smcap">Tune</span>&mdash;<i>"Ye Banks and Braes o' bonnie Doon."</i></p>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Fair, modest flower, of matchless worth!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thou sweet, enticing, bonny gem;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Blest is the soil that gave thee birth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And bless'd thine honour'd parent stem.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But doubly bless'd shall be the youth<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To whom thy heaving bosom warms;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Possess'd of beauty, love, and truth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He 'll clasp an angel in his arms.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Though storms of life were blowing snell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And on his brow sat brooding care,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thy seraph smile would quick dispel<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The darkest gloom of black despair.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sure Heaven hath granted thee to us,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And chose thee from the dwellers there;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And sent thee from celestial bliss,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To shew what all the virtues are.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="KATE_O_GOWRIE37" id="KATE_O_GOWRIE37"></a>KATE O' GOWRIE.<a name="FNanchor_37_37" id="FNanchor_37_37"></a><a href="#Footnote_37_37" class="fnanchor">[37]</a></h3>
+
+<p class='center'><span class="smcap">Tune</span>&mdash;<i>"Locherroch Side."</i></p>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When Katie was scarce out nineteen,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh, but she had twa coal-black een!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A bonnier lass ye wadna seen<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In a' the Carse o' Gowrie.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">Quite tired o' livin' a' his lane,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Pate did to her his love explain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And swore he 'd be, were she his ain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The happiest lad in Gowrie.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Quo' she, "I winna marry thee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For a' the gear that ye can gi'e;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor will I gang a step ajee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For a' the gowd in Gowrie.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My father will gi'e me twa kye;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My mother 's gaun some yarn to dye;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I 'll get a gown just like the sky,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Gif I 'll no gang to Gowrie."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Oh, my dear Katie, say nae sae!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ye little ken a heart that 's wae;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hae! there 's my hand; hear me, I pray,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sin' thou 'lt no gang to Gowrie:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Since first I met thee at the shiel,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My saul to thee 's been true and leal;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The darkest night I fear nae deil,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Warlock, or witch in Gowrie.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"I fear nae want o' claes nor nocht,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sic silly things my mind ne'er taught;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I dream a' nicht, and start about,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And wish for thee in Gowrie.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I lo'e thee better, Kate, my dear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Than a' my rigs and out-gaun gear;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sit down by me till ance I swear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thou 'rt worth the Carse o' Gowrie."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Syne on her mou' sweet kisses laid,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Till blushes a' her cheeks o'erspread;<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">She sigh'd, and in soft whispers said,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"Oh, Pate, tak me to Gowrie!"<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Quo' he, "Let 's to the auld folk gang;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Say what they like, I 'll bide their bang,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And bide a' nicht, though beds be thrang;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But I 'll hae thee to Gowrie."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The auld folk syne baith gi'ed consent;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The priest was ca'd: a' were content;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Katie never did repent<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That she gaed hame to Gowrie.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For routh o' bonnie bairns had she;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Mair strappin' lads ye wadna see;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And her braw lasses bore the gree<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Frae a' the rest o' Gowrie.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="UPON_THE_BANKS_O_FLOWING_CLYDE38" id="UPON_THE_BANKS_O_FLOWING_CLYDE38"></a>UPON THE BANKS O' FLOWING CLYDE.<a name="FNanchor_38_38" id="FNanchor_38_38"></a><a href="#Footnote_38_38" class="fnanchor">[38]</a></h3>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Upon the banks o' flowing Clyde<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The lasses busk them braw;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But when their best they hae put on,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My Jeanie dings them a';<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In hamely weeds she far exceeds<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The fairest o' the toun;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Baith sage and gay confess it sae,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Though drest in russit goun.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The gamesome lamb that sucks its dam,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Mair harmless canna be;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She has nae faut, if sic ye ca't,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Except her love for me;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The sparkling dew, o' clearest hue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is like her shining een;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In shape and air wha can compare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wi' my sweet lovely Jean.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span></div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="ALEXANDER_CAMPBELL" id="ALEXANDER_CAMPBELL"></a>ALEXANDER CAMPBELL.</h2>
+
+
+<p>A miscellaneous writer, a poet, and a musical composer,
+Alexander Campbell first saw the light at Tombea,
+on the banks of Loch Lubnaig, in Perthshire. He
+was born in 1764, and received such education as his
+parents could afford him, which was not very ample, at
+the parish school of Callander. An early taste for
+music induced him to proceed to Edinburgh, there to
+cultivate a systematic acquaintance with the art. Acquiring
+a knowledge of the science under the celebrated
+Tenducci and others, he became himself a teacher of
+the harpsichord and of vocal music, in the metropolis.
+As an upholder of Jacobitism, when it was scarcely to
+be dreaded as a political offence, he officiated as organist
+in a non-juring chapel in the vicinity of Nicolson Street;
+and while so employed had the good fortune to form the
+acquaintance of Burns, who was pleased to discover in
+an individual entertaining similar state sentiments with
+himself, an enthusiastic devotion to national melody
+and song.</p>
+
+<p>Mr Campbell was twice married; his second wife was
+the widow of a Highland gentleman, and he was induced
+to hope that his condition might thus be permanently
+improved. He therefore relinquished his original<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span>
+vocation, and commenced the study of physic, with the
+view of obtaining an appointment as surgeon in the public
+service; but his sanguine hopes proved abortive, and,
+to complete his mortification, his wife left him in Edinburgh,
+and sought a retreat in the Highlands. He
+again procured some employment as a teacher of music;
+and about the year 1810, one of his expedients was to
+give lessons in drawing. He was a man of a fervent
+spirit, and possessed of talents, which, if they had
+been adequately cultivated, and more concentrated, might
+have enabled him to attain considerable distinction;
+but, apparently aiming at the reputation of universal
+genius, he alternately cultivated the study of music,
+poetry, painting, and physic. At a more recent period,
+Sir Walter Scott found him occasional employment in
+transcribing manuscripts; and during the unhappy remainder
+of his life he had to struggle with many difficulties.</p>
+
+<p>One of his publications bears the title of "Odes and
+Miscellaneous Poems, by a Student of Medicine in the
+University of Edinburgh," Edinburgh, 1790, 4to. These
+lucubrations, which attracted no share of public attention,
+were followed by "The Guinea Note, a Poem, by
+Timothy Twig, Esquire," Edinburgh, 1797, 4to. His
+next work is entitled, "An Introduction to the History
+of Poetry in Scotland, with Illustrations by David Allan,"
+Edinburgh, 1798, 4to. This work, though written in a
+rambling style, contains a small proportion of useful
+materials very unskilfully digested. "A Dialogue on
+Scottish Music," prefixed, had the merit of conveying to
+Continental musicians for the first time a correct acquaintance
+with the Scottish scale, the author receiving the
+commendations of the greatest Italian and German composers.
+The work likewise contains "Songs of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</a></span>
+Lowlands," a selection of some of the more interesting
+specimens of the older minstrelsy. In 1802 he published
+"A Tour from Edinburgh through various parts
+of North Britain," in two volumes quarto, illustrated
+with engravings from sketches executed by himself.
+This work met with a favourable reception, and has
+been regarded as the most successful of his literary
+efforts. In 1804 he sought distinction as a poet by
+giving to the world "The Grampians Desolate," a long
+poem, in one volume octavo. In this production he
+essays "to call the attention of good men, wherever dispersed
+throughout our island, to the manifold and great
+evils arising from the introduction of that system which
+has within these last forty years spread among the
+Grampians and Western Isles, and is the leading cause
+of a depopulation that threatens to extirpate the ancient
+race of the inhabitants of those districts." That system
+to which Mr Campbell refers, he afterwards explains to
+be the monopoly of sheep-stores, a subject scarcely poetical,
+but which he has contrived to clothe with considerable
+smoothness of versification. The last work which
+issued from Mr Campbell's pen was "Albyn's Anthology,
+a Select Collection of the Melodies and Vocal Poetry
+Peculiar to Scotland and the Isles, hitherto Unpublished."
+The publication appeared in 1816, in two parts, of elegant
+folio. It was adorned by the contributions of Sir
+Walter Scott, James Hogg, and other poets of reputation.
+The preface contains "An Epitome of the History
+of Scottish Poetry and Music from the Earliest Times."
+His musical talents have a stronger claim to remembrance
+than either his powers as a poet or his skill as
+a writer. Yet his industry was unremitted, and his
+researches have proved serviceable to other writers who
+have followed him on the same themes. Only a few<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</a></span>
+lyrical pieces proceeded from his pen; these were first
+published in "Albyn's Anthology." From this work
+we have extracted two specimens.</p>
+
+<p>Mr Campbell died of apoplexy on the 15th of May
+1824, after a life much chequered by misfortune. He
+left various MSS. on subjects connected with his favourite
+studies, which have fortunately found their way
+into the possession of Mr Laing, to whom the history of
+Scottish poetry is perhaps more indebted than to any
+other living writer. The poems in this collection, though
+bearing marks of sufficient elaboration, could not be
+recommended for publication. Mr Campbell was understood
+to be a contributor to <i>The Ghost</i>, a forgotten
+periodical, which ran a short career in the year 1790.
+It was published in Edinburgh twice a week, and
+reached the forty-sixth number; the first having appeared
+on the 25th of April, the last on the 16th of
+November. He published an edition of a book, curious
+in its way&mdash;Donald Mackintosh's "Collection of Gaelic
+Proverbs, and Familiar Phrases; Englished anew!"
+Edinburgh, 1819, 12mo. The preface contains a characteristic
+account of the compiler, who described himself
+as "a priest of the old Scots Episcopal Church,
+and last of the non-jurant clergy in Scotland."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="NOW_WINTERS_WIND_SWEEPS" id="NOW_WINTERS_WIND_SWEEPS"></a>NOW WINTER'S WIND SWEEPS.</h3>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Now winter's wind sweeps o'er the mountains,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Deeply clad in drifting snow;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Soundly sleep the frozen fountains;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ice-bound streams forget to flow:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The piercing blast howls loud and long,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The leafless forest oaks among.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Down the glen, lo! comes a stranger,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wayworn, drooping, all alone;&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Haply, 'tis the deer-haunt Ranger!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But alas! his strength is gone!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He stoops, he totters on with pain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The hill he 'll never climb again.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Age is being's winter season,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Fitful, gloomy, piercing cold;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Passion weaken'd, yields to reason,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Man feels <i>then</i> himself grown old;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His senses one by one have fled,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His very soul seems almost dead.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</a></span></div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="THE_HAWK_WHOOPS_ON_HIGH" id="THE_HAWK_WHOOPS_ON_HIGH"></a>THE HAWK WHOOPS ON HIGH.</h3>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The hawk whoops on high, and keen, keen from yon' cliff,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Lo! the eagle on watch eyes the stag cold and stiff;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The deer-hound, majestic, looks lofty around,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While he lists with delight to the harp's distant sound;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is it swept by the gale, as it slow wafts along<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The heart-soothing tones of an olden times' song?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or is it some Druid who touches, unseen,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"The Harp of the North," newly strung now I ween?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">'Tis Albyn's own minstrel! and, proud of his name,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He proclaims him chief bard, and immortal his fame!&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He gives tongue to those wild lilts that ravish'd of old,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And soul to the tales that so oft have been told;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hence <span class="smcap">Walter the Minstrel</span> shall flourish for aye,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Will breathe in sweet airs, and live long as his "Lay;"<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To ages unnumber'd thus yielding delight,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which will last till the gloaming of Time's endless night.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</a></span></div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="MRS_DUGALD_STEWART" id="MRS_DUGALD_STEWART"></a>MRS DUGALD STEWART.</h2>
+
+
+<p>Helen D'Arcy Cranstoun, the second wife of the celebrated
+Professor Stewart, is entitled to a more ample
+notice in a work on Modern Scottish Song than the
+limited materials at our command enable us to supply.
+She was the third daughter of the Hon. George Cranstoun,
+youngest son of William, fifth Lord Cranstoun.
+She was born in the year 1765, and became the wife
+of Professor Dugald Stewart on the 26th July 1790.
+Having survived her husband ten years, she died at
+Warriston House, in the neighbourhood of Edinburgh,
+on the 28th of July 1838. She was the sister of the
+Countess Purgstall (the subject of Captain Basil Hall's
+"Schloss Hainfeld"), and of George Cranstoun, a senator
+of the College of Justice, by the title of Lord Corehouse.</p>
+
+<p>The following pieces from the pen of the accomplished
+author are replete with simple beauty and exquisite
+tenderness.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="THE_TEARS_I_SHED_MUST_EVER_FALL" id="THE_TEARS_I_SHED_MUST_EVER_FALL"></a>THE TEARS I SHED MUST EVER FALL.</h3>
+
+<p class='center'><span class="smcap">Tune</span>&mdash;<i>"Ianthe the Lovely."</i></p>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The tears I shed must ever fall:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I mourn not for an absent swain;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For thoughts may past delights recall,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And parted lovers meet again.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I weep not for the silent dead:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Their toils are past, their sorrows o'er;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And those they loved their steps shall tread,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And death shall join to part no more.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Though boundless oceans roll'd between,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If certain that his heart is near,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A conscious transport glads each scene,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Soft is the sigh and sweet the tear.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">E'en when by death's cold hand removed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We mourn the tenant of the tomb,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To think that e'en in death he loved,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Can gild the horrors of the gloom.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But bitter, bitter are the tears<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of her who slighted love bewails;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No hope her dreary prospect cheers,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No pleasing melancholy hails.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hers are the pangs of wounded pride,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of blasted hope, of wither'd joy;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The flattering veil is rent aside,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The flame of love burns to destroy.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</a></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">In vain does memory renew<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The hours once tinged in transport's dye;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The sad reverse soon starts to view,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And turns the past to agony.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">E'en time itself despairs to cure<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Those pangs to every feeling due:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ungenerous youth! thy boast how poor,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To win a heart, and break it too!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">No cold approach, no alter'd mien,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Just what would make suspicion start;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No pause the dire extremes between&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He made me blest, and broke my heart:<a name="FNanchor_39_39" id="FNanchor_39_39"></a><a href="#Footnote_39_39" class="fnanchor">[39]</a><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From hope, the wretched's anchor, torn,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Neglected and neglecting all;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Friendless, forsaken, and forlorn,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The tears I shed must ever fall.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="RETURNING_SPRING_WITH_GLADSOME_RAY40" id="RETURNING_SPRING_WITH_GLADSOME_RAY40"></a>RETURNING SPRING, WITH GLADSOME RAY.<a name="FNanchor_40_40" id="FNanchor_40_40"></a><a href="#Footnote_40_40" class="fnanchor">[40]</a></h3>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Returning spring, with gladsome ray,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Adorns the earth and smoothes the deep:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All nature smiles, serene and gay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It smiles, and yet, alas! I weep.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</a></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But why, why flows the sudden tear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Since Heaven such precious boons has lent,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The lives of those who life endear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And, though scarce competence, content?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Sure, when no other bliss was mine<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Than that which still kind Heaven bestows,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet then could peace and hope combine<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To promise joy and give repose.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Then have I wander'd o'er the plain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And bless'd each flower that met my view;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thought Fancy's power would ever reign,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Nature's charms be ever new.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I fondly thought where Virtue dwelt,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That happy bosom knew no ill&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That those who scorn'd me, time would melt,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And those I loved be faultless still.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Enchanting dreams! kind was your art<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That bliss bestow'd without alloy;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or if soft sadness claim'd a part,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'Twas sadness sweeter still than joy.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Oh! whence the change that now alarms,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Fills this sad heart and tearful eye,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And conquers the once powerful charms<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of youth, of hope, of novelty?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">'Tis sad Experience, fatal power!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That clouds the once illumined sky,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That darkens life's meridian hour,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And bids each fairy vision fly.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</a></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">She paints the scene&mdash;how different far<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From that which youthful fancy drew!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shews joy and freedom oft at war,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Our woes increased, our comforts few.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And when, perhaps, on some loved friend<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Our treasured fondness we bestow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh! can she not, with ruthless hand,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Change even that friend into a foe?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">See in her train cold Foresight move,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shunning the rose to 'scape the thorn;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Prudence every fear approve,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Pity harden into scorn!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The glowing tints of Fancy fade,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Life's distant prospects charm no more;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Alas! are all my hopes betray'd?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Can nought my happiness restore?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Relentless power! at length be just,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thy better skill alone impart;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Give Caution, but withhold Distrust,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And guard, but harden not, my heart!<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</a></span></div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="ALEXANDER_WILSON" id="ALEXANDER_WILSON"></a>ALEXANDER WILSON.</h2>
+
+
+<p>The author of the celebrated "American Ornithology"
+is entitled to an honourable commemoration as one of
+the minstrels of his native land. Alexander Wilson was
+born at Paisley on the 6th of July 1766. His father
+had for some time carried on a small trade as a distiller;
+but the son was destined by his parents for the clerical
+profession, in the National Church&mdash;a scheme which was
+frustrated by the death of his mother in his tenth year,
+leaving a large family of children to the sole care of his
+father. He had, however, considerably profited by the
+instruction already received at school; and having derived
+from his mother a taste for music and a relish for
+books, he invoked the muse in solitude, and improved
+his mind by miscellaneous reading. His father contracted
+a second marriage when Alexander had reached his
+thirteenth year; and it became necessary that he should
+prepare himself for entering upon some handicraft employment.
+He became an apprentice to his brother-in-law,
+William Duncan, a weaver in his native town;
+and on completing his indenture, he wrought as a journeyman,
+during the three following years, in the towns
+of Paisley, Lochwinnoch, and Queensferry. But the
+occupation of weaving, which had from the first been<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</a></span>
+unsuitable to his tastes, growing altogether irksome, he
+determined to relinquish it for a vocation which, if in
+some respects scarcely more desirable, afforded him
+ample means of gratifying his natural desire of becoming
+familiar with the topography of his native country. He
+provided himself with a pack, as a pedlar, and in this
+capacity, in company with his brother-in-law, continued
+for three years to lead a wandering life. His devotedness
+to verse-making had continued unabated from boyhood;
+he had written verses at the loom, and had
+become an enthusiastic votary of the muse during his
+peregrinations with his pack. He was now in his
+twenty-third year; and with the buoyancy of ardent
+youth, he thought of offering to the public a volume of
+his poems by subscription. In this attempt he was not
+successful; nor would any bookseller listen to proposals
+of publishing the lucubrations of an obscure pedlar. In
+1790, he at length contrived to print his poems at
+Paisley, on his own account, in the hope of being able to
+dispose of them along with his other wares. But this
+attempt was not more successful than his original
+scheme, so that he was compelled to return to his father's
+house at Lochwinnoch, and resume the obnoxious shuttle.
+His aspirations for poetical distinction were not, however,
+subdued; he heard of the institution of the <i>Forum</i>,
+a debating society established in Edinburgh by some
+literary aspirants, and learning, in 1791, that an early
+subject of discussion was the comparative merits of
+Ramsay and Fergusson as Scottish poets, he prepared
+to take a share in the competition. By doubling his
+hours of labour at the loom, he procured the means of
+defraying his travelling expenses; and, arriving in time
+for the debate in the <i>Forum</i>, he repeated a poem which
+he had prepared, entitled the "Laurel Disputed," in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</a></span>
+which he gave the preference to Fergusson. He remained
+several weeks in Edinburgh, and printed his
+poem. To Dr Anderson's "Bee" he contributed several
+poems, and a prose essay, entitled "The Solitary
+Philosopher." Finding no encouragement to settle in
+the metropolis, he once more returned to his father's
+house in the west. He now formed the acquaintance of
+Robert Burns, who testified his esteem for him both as
+a man and a poet. In 1792, he published anonymously
+his popular ballad of "Watty and Meg," which he had
+the satisfaction to find regarded as worthy of the Ayrshire
+Bard.</p>
+
+<p>The star of the poet was now promising to be in the
+ascendant, but an untoward event ensued. In the
+ardent enthusiasm of his temperament, he was induced
+to espouse in verse the cause of the Paisley hand-loom
+operatives in a dispute with their employers, and to
+satirise in strong invective a person of irreproachable
+reputation. For this offence he was prosecuted before
+the sheriff, who sentenced him to be imprisoned for a
+few days, and publicly to burn his own poem in the
+front of the jail. This satire is entitled "The Shark;
+or, Long Mills detected." Like many other independents,
+he mistook anarchy in France for the dawn of
+liberty in Europe; and his sentiments becoming known,
+he was so vigilantly watched by the authorities, that he
+found it was no longer expedient for him to reside in
+Scotland. He resolved to emigrate to America; and,
+contriving by four months' extra labour, and living on
+a shilling weekly, to earn his passage-money, he sailed
+from Portpatrick to Belfast, and from thence to Newcastle,
+in the State of Delaware, where he arrived on the
+14th July 1794. During the voyage he had slept on
+deck, and when he landed, his finances consisted only of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</a></span>
+a few shillings; yet, with a cheerful heart, he walked to
+Philadelphia, a distance of thirty-three miles, with only
+his fowling-piece on his shoulder. He shot a red-headed
+woodpecker by the way,&mdash;an omen of his future pursuits,
+for hitherto he had devoted no attention to the study of
+ornithology.</p>
+
+<p>He was first employed by a copperplate-printer in
+Philadelphia, but quitted this occupation for the loom,
+at which he worked about a year in Philadelphia,
+and at Shepherdstown, in Virginia. In 1795, he traversed
+a large portion of the State of New Jersey as a
+pedlar, keeping a journal,&mdash;a practice which he had followed
+during his wandering life in Scotland. He now
+adopted the profession of a schoolmaster, and was successively
+employed in this vocation at Frankford, in
+Pennsylvania, at Milestown, and at Bloomfield, in New
+Jersey. In preparing himself for the instruction of
+others, he essentially extended his own acquaintance
+with classical learning, and mathematical science; and
+by occasional employment as a land-surveyor, he somewhat
+improved his finances. In 1801, he accepted the
+appointment of teacher in a seminary in Kingsessing, on
+the river Schuylkill, about four miles from Philadelphia,&mdash;a
+situation which, though attended with limited emolument,
+proved the first step in his path to eminence. He
+was within a short distance of the residence of William
+Bartram, the great American naturalist, with whom he
+became intimately acquainted; he also formed the friendship
+of Alexander Lawson, an emigrant engraver, who
+initiated him in the art of etching, colouring, and engraving.
+Discovering an aptitude in the accurate delineation
+of birds, he was led to the study of ornithology;
+with which he became so much interested, that he projected
+a work descriptive, with drawings, of all the birds<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</a></span>
+of the Middle States, and even of the Union. About this
+period he became a contributor to the "Literary Magazine,"
+conducted by Mr Brockden Brown, and to Denny's
+"Portfolio."</p>
+
+<p>Along with a nephew and another friend, Wilson
+made a pedestrian tour to the Falls of Niagara, in October
+1804, and on his return published in the "Portfolio"
+a poetical narrative of his journey, entitled "The
+Foresters,"&mdash;a production surpassing his previous efforts,
+and containing some sublime apostrophes. But his
+energies were now chiefly devoted to the accomplishment
+of the grand design he had contemplated. Disappointed
+in obtaining the co-operation of his friend Mr
+Lawson, who was alarmed at the extent of his projected
+adventure, and likewise frustrated in obtaining pecuniary
+assistance from the President Jefferson, on which he
+had some reason to calculate, he persevered in his attempts
+himself, drawing, etching, and colouring the
+requisite illustrations. In 1806, he was employed as
+assistant-editor of a new edition of Rees' Cyclopedia, by
+Mr Samuel Bradford, bookseller in Philadelphia, who rewarded
+his services with a liberal salary, and undertook,
+at his own risk, the publication of his "Ornithology."
+The first volume of the work appeared in September
+1808, and immediately after its publication the author personally
+visited, in the course of two different expeditions,
+the Eastern and Southern States, in quest of subscribers.
+These journeys were attended with a success scarcely
+adequate to the privations which were experienced in
+their prosecution; but the "Ornithology" otherwise
+obtained a wide circulation, and, excelling in point of
+illustration every production that had yet appeared in
+America, gained for the author universal commendation.
+In January 1810, his second volume appeared, and in a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</a></span>
+month after he proceeded to Pittsburg, and from thence,
+in a small skiff, made a solitary voyage down the Ohio,
+a distance of nearly six hundred miles. During this
+lonely and venturous journey he experienced relaxation
+in the composition of a poem, which afterwards appeared
+under the title of "The Pilgrim." In 1813, after encountering
+numerous hardships and perils, which an
+enthusiast only could have endured, he completed the
+publication of the seventh volume of his great work.
+But the sedulous attention requisite in the preparation
+of the plates of the eighth volume, and the effect of a
+severe cold, caught in rashly throwing himself into a
+river to swim in pursuit of a rare bird, brought on him
+a fatal dysentery, which carried him off, on the 23d of
+August 1813, in his forty-eighth year. He was interred
+in the cemetery of the Swedish church, Southwark,
+Philadelphia, where a plain marble monument has been
+erected to his memory. A ninth volume was added to
+the "Ornithology" by Mr George Ord, an intimate friend
+of the deceased naturalist; and three supplementary
+volumes have been published, in folio, by Charles Lucien
+Bonaparte, uncle of the present Emperor of the French.</p>
+
+<p>Amidst his extraordinary deserts as a naturalist, the
+merits of Alexander Wilson as a poet have been somewhat
+overlooked. His poetry, it may be remarked,
+though unambitious of ornament, is bold and vigorous
+in style, and, when devoted to satire, is keen and vehement.
+The ballad of "Watty and Meg," though exception
+may be taken to the moral, is an admirable
+picture of human nature, and one of the most graphic
+narratives of the "taming of a shrew" in the language.
+Allan Cunningham writes: "It has been excelled by
+none in lively, graphic fidelity of touch: whatever was
+present to his eye and manifest to his ear, he could<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</a></span>
+paint with a life and a humour which Burns seems alone
+to excel."<a name="FNanchor_41_41" id="FNanchor_41_41"></a><a href="#Footnote_41_41" class="fnanchor">[41]</a> In private life, Wilson was a model of
+benevolence and of the social virtues; he was devoid
+of selfishness, active in beneficence, and incapable of
+resentment. Before his departure for America, he waited
+on every one whom he conceived he had offended by
+his juvenile escapades, and begged their forgiveness;
+and he did not hesitate to reprove Burns for the levity
+too apparent in some of his poems. To his aged father,
+who survived till the year 1816, he sent remittances of
+money as often as he could afford; and at much inconvenience
+and pecuniary sacrifice, he established the
+family of his brother-in-law on a farm in the States.
+He was sober even to abstinence; and was guided in
+all his transactions by correct Christian principles. In
+person, he was remarkably handsome; his countenance
+was intelligent, and his eye sparkling. He never
+attained riches, but few Scotsmen have left more splendid
+memorials of their indomitable perseverance.<a name="FNanchor_42_42" id="FNanchor_42_42"></a><a href="#Footnote_42_42" class="fnanchor">[42]</a><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="CONNEL_AND_FLORA" id="CONNEL_AND_FLORA"></a>CONNEL AND FLORA.</h3>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Dark lowers the night o'er the wide stormy main,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Till mild rosy morning rise cheerful again;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Alas! morn returns to revisit the shore,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But Connel returns to his Flora no more.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">For see, on yon mountain, the dark cloud of death,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O'er Connel's lone cottage, lies low on the heath;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While bloody and pale, on a far distant shore,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He lies, to return to his Flora no more.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Ye light fleeting spirits, that glide o'er the steep,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh, would ye but waft me across the wild deep!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There fearless I'd mix in the battle's loud roar,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I'd die with my Connel, and leave him no more.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="MATILDA" id="MATILDA"></a>MATILDA.</h3>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Ye dark rugged rocks, that recline o'er the deep,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ye breezes, that sigh o'er the main,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Here shelter me under your cliffs while I weep,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And cease while ye hear me complain.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">For distant, alas! from my dear native shore,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And far from each friend now I be;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And wide is the merciless ocean that roars<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Between my Matilda and me.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</a></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">How blest were the times when together we stray'd,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While Ph&#339;be shone silent above,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or lean'd by the border of Cartha's green side,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And talk'd the whole evening of love!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Around us all nature lay wrapt up in peace,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor noise could our pleasures annoy,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Save Cartha's hoarse brawling, convey'd by the breeze,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That soothed us to love and to joy.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">If haply some youth had his passion express'd,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And praised the bright charms of her face,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What horrors unceasing revolved though my breast,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While, sighing, I stole from the place!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">For where is the eye that could view her alone,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The ear that could list to her strain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor wish the adorable nymph for his own,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor double the pangs I sustain?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Thou moon, that now brighten'st those regions above,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How oft hast thou witness'd my bliss,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While breathing my tender expressions of love,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I seal'd each kind vow with a kiss!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Ah, then, how I joy'd while I gazed on her charms!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What transports flew swift through my heart!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I press'd the dear, beautiful maid in my arms,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor dream'd that we ever should part.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But now from the dear, from the tenderest maid,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By fortune unfeelingly torn;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'Midst strangers, who wonder to see me so sad,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In secret I wander forlorn.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</a></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And oft, while drear Midnight assembles her shades,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Silence pours sleep from her throne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Pale, lonely, and pensive, I steal through the glades,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And sigh, 'midst the darkness, my moan.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">In vain to the town I retreat for relief,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In vain to the groves I complain;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Belles, coxcombs, and uproar, can ne'er soothe my grief,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And solitude nurses my pain.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Still absent from her whom my bosom loves best,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I languish in mis'ry and care;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her presence could banish each woe from my heart,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But her absence, alas! is despair.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Ye dark rugged rocks, that recline o'er the deep;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ye breezes, that sigh o'er the main&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh, shelter me under your cliffs while I weep,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And cease while ye hear me complain!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Far distant, alas! from my dear native shore,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And far from each friend now I be;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And wide is the merciless ocean that roars<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Between my Matilda and me.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</a></span></div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="AUCHTERTOOL43" id="AUCHTERTOOL43"></a>AUCHTERTOOL.<a name="FNanchor_43_43" id="FNanchor_43_43"></a><a href="#Footnote_43_43" class="fnanchor">[43]</a></h3>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">From the village of Leslie, with a heart full of glee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And my pack on my shoulders, I rambled out free,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Resolved that same evening, as Luna was full,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To lodge, ten miles distant, in old Auchtertool.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Through many a lone cottage and farm-house I steer'd,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Took their money, and off with my budget I sheer'd;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The road I explored out, without form or rule,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Still asking the nearest to old Auchtertool.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">At length I arrived at the edge of the town,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As Ph&#339;bus, behind a high mountain, went down;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The clouds gather'd dreary, and weather blew foul,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And I hugg'd myself safe now in old Auchtertool.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">An inn I inquired out, a lodging desired,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But the landlady's pertness seem'd instantly fired;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For she saucy replied, as she sat carding wool,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"I ne'er kept sic lodgers in auld Auchtertool."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">With scorn I soon left her to live on her pride;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But, asking, was told there was none else beside,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Except an old weaver, who now kept a school,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And these were the whole that were in Auchtertool.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</a></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">To his mansion I scamper'd, and rapp'd at the door;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He oped, but as soon as I dared to implore,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He shut it like thunder, and utter'd a howl<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That rung through each corner of old Auchtertool.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Deprived of all shelter, through darkness I trode,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Till I came to a ruin'd old house by the road;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Here the night I will spend, and, inspired by the owl,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My wrath I 'll vent forth upon old Auchtertool.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</a></span></div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CAROLINA_BARONESS_NAIRN" id="CAROLINA_BARONESS_NAIRN"></a>CAROLINA, BARONESS NAIRN.</h2>
+
+
+<p>Carolina Oliphant was born in the old mansion of
+Gask, in the county of Perth, on the 16th of July 1766.
+She was the third daughter and fifth child of Laurence
+Oliphant of Gask, who had espoused his cousin Margaret
+Robertson, a daughter of Duncan Robertson of Struan,
+and his wife a daughter of the fourth Lord Nairn.
+The Oliphants of Gask were cadets of the formerly
+noble house of Oliphant; whose ancestor, Sir William
+Oliphant of Aberdalgie, a puissant knight, acquired distinction
+in the beginning of the fourteenth century by
+defending the Castle of Stirling against a formidable
+siege by the first Edward. The family of Gask were
+devoted Jacobites; the paternal grandfather of Carolina
+Oliphant had attended Prince Charles Edward as aid-de-camp
+during his disastrous campaign of 1745-6, and
+his spouse had indicated her sympathy in his cause by
+cutting out a lock of his hair on the occasion of his accepting
+the hospitality of the family mansion. The portion
+of hair is preserved at Gask; and Carolina Oliphant,
+in her song, "The Auld House," has thus celebrated
+the gentle deed of her progenitor:&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"The Leddy too, sae genty,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There shelter'd Scotland's heir,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An' clipt a lock wi' her ain hand<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Frae his lang yellow hair."<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</a></span></div></div>
+
+<p>The estate of Gask escaped forfeiture, but the father of
+Carolina did not renounce the Jacobite sentiments of
+his ancestors. He named the subject of this memoir
+Carolina, in honour of Prince Charles Edward; and his
+prevailing topic of conversation was the reiterated expression
+of his hope that "the king would get his ain."
+He would not permit the names of the reigning monarch
+and his queen to be mentioned in his presence; and
+when impaired eyesight compelled him to seek the
+assistance of his family in reading the newspapers, he
+angrily reproved the reader if the "German lairdie and
+his leddy" were designated otherwise than by the initial
+letters, "K. and Q." This extreme Jacobitism at a
+period when the crime was scarcely to be dreaded, was
+reported to George III., who is related to have confessed
+his respect for a man who had so consistently maintained
+his political sentiments.</p>
+
+<p>In her youth, Carolina Oliphant was singularly beautiful,
+and was known in her native district by the
+poetical designation of "The Flower of Strathearn."
+She was as remarkable for the precocity of her intellect,
+as she was celebrated for the elegance of her person.
+Descended by her mother from a family which, in one
+instance,<a name="FNanchor_44_44" id="FNanchor_44_44"></a><a href="#Footnote_44_44" class="fnanchor">[44]</a> at least, had afforded some evidence of poetical
+talents, and possessed of a correct musical ear, she
+very early composed verses for her favourite melodies.
+To the development of her native genius, her juvenile
+condition abundantly contributed: the locality of her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</a></span>
+birthplace, rich in landscape scenery, and associated
+with family traditions and legends of curious and chivalric
+adventure, might have been sufficient to promote,
+in a mind less fertile than her own, sentiments of poesy.
+In the application of her talents she was influenced by
+another incentive. A loose ribaldry tainted the songs
+and ballads which circulated among the peasantry, and
+she was convinced that the diffusion of a more wholesome
+minstrelsy would essentially elevate the moral
+tone of the community. Thus, while still young, she
+commenced to purify the older melodies, and to compose
+new songs, which were ultimately destined to occupy
+an ample share of the national heart. The occasion of
+an agricultural dinner in the neighbourhood afforded
+her a fitting opportunity of making trial of her success
+in the good work which she had begun. To the president
+of the meeting she sent, anonymously, her verses
+entitled "The Ploughman;" and the production being
+publicly read, was received with warm approbation, and
+was speedily put to music. She was thus encouraged
+to proceed in her self-imposed task; and to this early
+period of her life may be ascribed some of her best
+lyrics. "The Laird o' Cockpen," and "The Land o'
+the Leal," at the close of the century, were sung in
+every district of the kingdom.</p>
+
+<p>Carolina Oliphant had many suitors for her hand:
+she gave a preference to William Murray Nairn, her
+maternal cousin, who had been Baron Nairn, barring
+the attainder of the title on account of the Jacobitism
+of the last Baron. The marriage was celebrated
+in June 1806. At this period, Mr Nairn was Assistant
+Inspector-General of Barracks in Scotland,
+and held the rank of major in the army. By Act of
+Parliament, on the 17th June 1824, the attainder of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</a></span>
+the family was removed, the title of Baron being conferred
+on Major Nairn. This measure is reported to
+have been passed on the strong recommendation of
+George IV.; his Majesty having learned, during his state
+visit to Scotland in 1822, that the song of "The Attainted
+Scottish Nobles" was the composition of Lady
+Nairn. The song is certainly one of the best apologies
+for Jacobitism.</p>
+
+<p>On the 9th of July 1830, Lady Nairn was bereaved
+of her husband, to whom she had proved an affectionate
+wife. Her care had for several years been assiduously
+bestowed on the proper rearing of her only child
+William, who, being born in 1808, had reached his
+twenty-second year when he succeeded to the title on
+the death of his father. This young nobleman warmly
+reciprocated his mother's affectionate devotedness; and,
+making her the associate of his manhood, proved a
+source of much comfort to her in her bereavement.
+In 1837, he resolved, in her society, to visit the
+Continent, in the hope of being recruited by change of
+climate from an attack of influenza caught in the
+spring of that year. But the change did not avail;
+he was seized with a violent cold at Brussels, which,
+after an illness of six weeks, proved fatal. He died
+in that city on the 7th of December 1837. Deprived
+both of her husband and her only child, a young
+nobleman of so much promise, and of singular Christian
+worth, Lady Nairn, though submitting to the
+mysterious dispensations with becoming resignation,
+did not regain her wonted buoyancy of spirit. Old
+age was rapidly approaching,&mdash;those years in which the
+words of the inspired sage, "I have no pleasure in
+them," are too frequently called forth by the pressure of
+human infirmities. But this amiable lady did not sink<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</a></span>
+under the load of affliction and of years: she mourned
+in hope, and wept in faith. While the afflictions which
+had mingled with her cup of blessings tended to prevent
+her lingering too intently on the past,<a name="FNanchor_45_45" id="FNanchor_45_45"></a><a href="#Footnote_45_45" class="fnanchor">[45]</a> the remembrance
+of a life devoted to deeds of piety and virtue was a solace
+greater than any other earthly object could impart, leading
+her to hail the future with sentiments of joyful
+anticipation. During the last years of her life, unfettered
+by worldly ties, she devoted all her energies to the
+service of Heaven, and to the advancement of Christian
+truth. Her beautiful ode, "Would you be young again?"
+was composed in 1842, and enclosed in a letter to a
+friend; it is signally expressive of the pious resignation
+and Christian hope of the author.</p>
+
+<p>After the important era of her marriage, she seems
+to have relinquished her literary ardour. But in the
+year 1821, Mr Robert Purdie, an enterprising music-seller
+in Edinburgh, having resolved to publish a series
+of the more approved national songs, made application
+to several ladies celebrated for their musical skill, with
+the view of obtaining their assistance in the arrangement
+of the melodies. To these ladies was known the
+secret of Lady Nairn's devotedness to Scottish song,
+enjoying as they did her literary correspondence and
+private intimacy; and in consenting to aid the publisher
+in his undertaking, they calculated on contributions
+from their accomplished friend. They had formed a
+correct estimate: Lady Nairn, whose extreme diffidence
+had hitherto proved a barrier to the fulfilment of the
+best wishes of her heart, in effecting the reformation of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</a></span>
+the national minstrelsy, consented to transmit pieces for
+insertion, on the express condition that her name and
+rank, and every circumstance connected with her history,
+should be kept in profound secrecy. The condition
+was carefully observed; so that, although the
+publication of "The Scottish Minstrel" extended over
+three years, and she had several personal interviews and
+much correspondence with the publisher and his editor,
+Mr R. A. Smith, both these individuals remained ignorant
+of her real name. She had assumed the signature,
+"B. B.," in her correspondence with Mr Purdie, who
+appears to have been entertained by <i>the discovery</i>, communicated
+in confidence, that the name of his contributor
+was "Mrs Bogan of Bogan;" and by this designation
+he subsequently addressed her. The <i>nom de
+guerre</i> of the two B.'s<a name="FNanchor_46_46" id="FNanchor_46_46"></a><a href="#Footnote_46_46" class="fnanchor">[46]</a> is attached to the greater number
+of Lady Nairn's contributions in "The Scottish Minstrel."</p>
+
+<p>The new collection of minstrelsy, unexceptionable as
+it was in the words attached to all the airs, commanded
+a wide circulation, and excited general attention. The
+original contributions were especially commended, and
+some of them were forthwith sung by professed vocalists
+in the principal towns. Much speculation arose respecting
+the authorship, and various conjectures were supported,
+each with plausible arguments, by the public
+journalists. In these circumstances, Lady Nairn expe<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</a></span>rienced
+painful alarm, lest, by any inadvertence on the
+part of her friends, the origin of her songs should be
+traced. While the publication of the "Minstrel" was
+proceeding, her correspondents received repeated injunctions
+to adopt every caution in preserving her <i>incognita</i>;
+she was even desirous that her sex might not be made
+known. "I beg the publisher will make no mention of
+a <i>lady</i>," she wrote to one of her correspondents, "as you
+observe, the more mystery the better, and <i>still</i> the
+balance is in favour of the lords of creation. I cannot
+help, in some degree, undervaluing beforehand what is
+said to be a feminine production." "The Scottish
+Minstrel" was completed in 1824, in six royal octavo
+volumes, forming one of the best collections of the Scottish
+melodies. It was in the full belief that "Mrs
+Bogan" was her real name, that the following compliment
+was paid to Lady Nairn by Messrs Purdie and R.
+A. Smith, in the advertisement to the last volume of the
+work:&mdash;"In particular, the editors would have felt
+happy in being permitted to enumerate the many original
+and beautiful verses that adorn their pages, for
+which they are indebted to the author of the much-admired
+song, 'The Land o' the Leal;' but they fear to
+wound a delicacy which shrinks from all observation."</p>
+
+<p>Subsequent to the appearance of "The Scottish
+Minstrel," Lady Nairn did not publish any lyrics; and
+she was eminently successful in preserving her <i>incognita</i>.
+No critic ventured to identify her as the celebrated
+"B. B.," and it was only whispered among a few that
+she had composed "The Land o' the Leal." The mention
+of her name publicly as the author of this beautiful
+ode, on one occasion, had signally disconcerted her.
+While she was resident in Paris, in 1842, she writes to
+an intimate friend in Edinburgh on this subject:&mdash;"A<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</a></span>
+Scottish lady here, Lady&mdash;&mdash;, with whom I never met
+in Scotland, is so good as, among perfect strangers,
+to <i>denounce</i> me as the origin of 'The Land o' the
+Leal!' I cannot trace it, but very much dislike as ever
+any kind of publicity." The extreme diffidence and
+shrinking modesty of the amiable author continued to
+the close of her life; she never divulged, beyond a small
+circle of confidential friends, the authorship of a single
+verse. The songs published in her youth had been
+given to others; but, as in the case of Lady Anne Barnard,
+these assignments caused her no uneasiness. She
+experienced much gratification in finding her simple
+minstrelsy supplanting the coarse and demoralising
+rhymes of a former period; and this mental satisfaction
+she preferred to fame.</p>
+
+<p>The philanthropic efforts of Lady Nairn were not
+limited to the purification of the national minstrelsy;
+her benevolence extended towards the support of every
+institution likely to promote the temporal comforts, or
+advance the spiritual interests of her countrymen. Her
+contributions to the public charities were ample, and she</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Did good by stealth, and blush'd to find it fame."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>In an address delivered at Edinburgh, on the 29th of
+December 1845, Dr Chalmers, referring to the exertions
+which had been made for the supply of religious instruction
+in the district of the West Port of Edinburgh, made
+the following remarks regarding Lady Nairn, who was
+then recently deceased:&mdash;"Let me speak now as to the
+countenance we have received. I am now at liberty to
+mention a very noble benefaction which I received about
+a year ago. Inquiry was made at me by a lady, mentioning
+that she had a sum at her disposal, and that she
+wished to apply it to charitable purposes; and she<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</a></span>
+wanted me to enumerate a list of charitable objects, in
+proportion to the estimate I had of their value. Accordingly,
+I furnished her with a scale of about five or six
+charitable objects. The highest in the scale were those
+institutions which had for their design the Christianising
+of the people at home; and I also mentioned to her,
+in connexion with the Christianising at home, what we
+were doing at the West Port; and there came to me
+from her, in the course of a day or two, no less a sum
+than &pound;300. She is now dead; she is now in her grave,
+and her works do follow her. When she gave me this
+noble benefaction, she laid me under strict injunctions of
+secrecy, and, accordingly, I did not mention her name
+to any person; but after she was dead, I begged of her
+nearest heir that I might be allowed to proclaim it, because
+I thought that her example, so worthy to be followed,
+might influence others in imitating her; and I am
+happy to say that I am now at liberty to state that it was
+Lady Nairn of Perthshire. It enabled us, at the expense
+of &pound;330, to purchase sites for schools, and a church; and
+we have got a site in the very heart of the locality,
+with a very considerable extent of ground for a washing-green,
+a washing-house, and a play-ground for the children,
+so that we are a good step in advance towards the
+completion of our parochial economy."</p>
+
+<p>After the death of her son, and till within two years
+of her own death, Lady Nairn resided chiefly on the
+Continent, and frequently in Paris. Her health had for
+several years been considerably impaired, and latterly
+she had recourse to a wheeled chair. In the mansion of
+Gask, on the 27th of October 1845, she gently sunk
+into her rest, at the advanced age of seventy-nine years.</p>
+
+<p>Some years subsequent to this event, it occurred to the
+relatives and literary friends of the deceased Baroness that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</a></span>
+as there could no longer be any reason for retaining her
+<i>incognita</i>, full justice should be done to her memory by
+the publication of a collected edition of her works. This
+scheme was partially executed in an elegant folio, entitled
+"Lays from Strathearn: by Carolina, Baroness
+Nairn. Arranged with Symphonies and Accompaniments
+for the Pianoforte, by Finlay Dun." It bears the
+imprint of London, and has no date. In this work, of
+which a new edition will speedily be published by Messrs
+Paterson, music-sellers, Edinburgh, are contained seventy
+songs, but the larger proportion of the author's lyrics
+still remain in MS. From her representatives we have
+received permission to select her best lyrics for the
+present work, and to insert several pieces hitherto unpublished.
+Of the lays which we have selected, several
+are new versions to old airs; the majority, though
+unknown as the compositions of Lady Nairn, are already
+familiar in the drawing-room and the cottage. For
+winning simplicity, graceful expression, and exquisite
+pathos, her compositions are especially remarkable; but
+when her muse prompts to humour, the laugh is
+sprightly and overpowering.</p>
+
+<p>In society, Lady Nairn was reserved and unassuming.
+Her countenance, naturally beautiful, wore, in her mature
+years, a somewhat pensive cast; and the characteristic
+by which she was known consisted in her enthusiastic
+love of music. It may be added, that she was fond
+of the fine arts, and was skilled in the use of the pencil.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="THE_PLEUGHMAN47" id="THE_PLEUGHMAN47"></a>THE PLEUGHMAN.<a name="FNanchor_47_47" id="FNanchor_47_47"></a><a href="#Footnote_47_47" class="fnanchor">[47]</a></h3>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">There 's high and low, there 's rich and poor,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There 's trades and crafts enew, man;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But, east and west, his trade 's the best,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That kens to guide the pleugh, man.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Then, come, weel speed my pleughman lad,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">And hey my merry pleughman;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Of a' the trades that I do ken,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Commend me to the pleughman.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">His dreams are sweet upon his bed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His cares are light and few, man;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His mother's blessing 's on his head,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That tents her weel, the pleughman.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Then, come, weel speed, &amp;c.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The lark, sae sweet, that starts to meet<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The morning fresh and new, man;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Blythe though she be, as blythe is he<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That sings as sweet, the pleughman.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Then, come, weel speed, &amp;c.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">All fresh and gay, at dawn of day<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Their labours they renew, man;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Heaven bless the seed, and bless the soil,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Heaven bless the pleughman.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Then, come, weel speed, &amp;c.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</a></span></div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="CALLER_HERRIN48" id="CALLER_HERRIN48"></a>CALLER HERRIN'.<a name="FNanchor_48_48" id="FNanchor_48_48"></a><a href="#Footnote_48_48" class="fnanchor">[48]</a></h3>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Wha 'll buy caller herrin'?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They 're bonnie fish and halesome farin';<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wha 'll buy caller herrin',<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">New drawn frae the Forth?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When ye were sleepin' on your pillows,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Dream'd ye ought o' our puir fellows,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Darkling as they faced the billows,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A' to fill the woven willows.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Buy my caller herrin',<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">New drawn frae the Forth.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Wha 'll buy my caller herrin'?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They 're no brought here without brave daring;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Buy my caller herrin',<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Haul'd thro' wind and rain.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Wha 'll buy caller herrin'? &amp;c.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Wha 'll buy my caller herrin'?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh, ye may ca' them vulgar farin'!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wives and mithers, maist despairin',<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ca' them lives o' men.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Wha 'll buy caller herrin'? &amp;c.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</a></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When the creel o' herrin' passes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ladies, clad in silks and laces,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Gather in their braw pelisses,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Cast their heads, and screw their faces.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Wha 'll buy caller herrin'? &amp;c.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Caller herrin 's no got lightlie;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ye can trip the spring fu' tightlie;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Spite o' tauntin', flauntin', flingin',<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Gow has set you a' a-singin'.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Wha 'll buy caller herrin'? &amp;c.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Neebour wives, now tent my tellin',<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When the bonny fish ye 're sellin',<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">At ae word be in yer dealin'&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Truth will stand when a' thing 's failin'.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Wha 'll buy caller herrin'? &amp;c.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="THE_LAND_O_THE_LEAL49" id="THE_LAND_O_THE_LEAL49"></a>THE LAND O' THE LEAL.<a name="FNanchor_49_49" id="FNanchor_49_49"></a><a href="#Footnote_49_49" class="fnanchor">[49]</a></h3>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I 'm wearin' awa', John,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Like snaw wreaths in thaw, John;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I 'm wearin' awa'<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To the land o' the leal.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There 's nae sorrow there, John;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There 's neither cauld nor care, John;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The day 's aye fair<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I' the land o' the leal.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</a></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Our bonnie bairn 's there, John;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She was baith gude and fair, John;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And, oh! we grudged her sair<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To the land o' the leal.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But sorrows sel' wears past, John,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And joy 's a-comin' fast, John&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The joy that 's aye to last<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In the land o' the leal.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Sae dear 's that joy was bought, John,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sae free the battle fought, John,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That sinfu' man e'er brought<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To the land o' the leal.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh, dry your glist'ning e'e, John!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My saul langs to be free, John;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And angels beckon me<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To the land o' the leal.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Oh, haud ye leal and true, John!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Your day it 's wearin' thro', John;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And I 'll welcome you<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To the land o' the leal.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now, fare ye weel, my ain John,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">This warld's cares are vain, John;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We 'll meet, and we 'll be fain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In the land o' the leal.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</a></span></div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="THE_LAIRD_O_COCKPEN50" id="THE_LAIRD_O_COCKPEN50"></a>THE LAIRD O' COCKPEN.<a name="FNanchor_50_50" id="FNanchor_50_50"></a><a href="#Footnote_50_50" class="fnanchor">[50]</a></h3>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The Laird o' Cockpen he 's proud and he 's great,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His mind is ta'en up with the things o' the state;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He wanted a wife his braw house to keep,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But favour wi' wooin' was fashious to seek.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Down by the dyke-side a lady did dwell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">At his table-head he thought she 'd look well;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">M'Clish's ae daughter o' Claverse-ha' Lee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A penniless lass wi' a lang pedigree.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">His wig was weel pouther'd, and as gude as new;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His waistcoat was white, his coat it was blue;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He put on a ring, a sword, and cock'd hat,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And wha' could refuse the Laird wi' a' that?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">He took the gray mare, and rade cannily&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And rapp'd at the yett o' Claverse-ha' Lee;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"Gae tell Mistress Jean to come speedily ben,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She 's wanted to speak to the Laird o' Cockpen."<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</a></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Mistress Jean was makin' the elder-flower wine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"And what brings the Laird at sic a like time?"<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She put aff her apron, and on her silk gown,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her mutch wi' red ribbons, and gaed awa' down.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And when she cam' ben, he bowed fu' low,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And what was his errand he soon let her know;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Amazed was the Laird when the lady said "Na;"<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And wi' a laigh curtsie she turned awa'.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Dumbfounder'd he was, nae sigh did he gie;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He mounted his mare&mdash;he rade cannily;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And aften he thought, as he gaed through the glen,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She 's daft to refuse the Laird o' Cockpen.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And now that the Laird his exit had made,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Mistress Jean she reflected on what she had said;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"Oh! for ane I 'll get better, it 's waur I 'll get ten,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I was daft to refuse the Laird o' Cockpen."<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</a></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Next time that the Laird and the Lady were seen,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They were gaun arm-in-arm to the kirk on the green;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now she sits in the ha' like a weel-tappit hen,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But as yet there 's nae chickens appear'd at Cockpen.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="HER_HOME_SHE_IS_LEAVING" id="HER_HOME_SHE_IS_LEAVING"></a>HER HOME SHE IS LEAVING.</h3>
+
+<p class='center'><span class="smcap">Air</span>&mdash;<i>"Mordelia."</i></p>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">In all its rich wildness, her home she is leaving,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In sad and tearful silence grieving,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And still as the moment of parting is nearer,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Each long cherish'd object is fairer and dearer.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Not a grove or fresh streamlet but wakens reflection<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of hearts still and cold, that glow'd with affection;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Not a breeze that blows over the flowers of the wild wood,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But tells, as it passes, how blest was her childhood.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And how long must I leave thee, each fond look expresses,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ye high rocky summits, ye ivy'd recesses!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How long must I leave thee, thou wood-shaded river,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The echoes all sigh&mdash;as they whisper&mdash;for ever!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Tho' the autumn winds rave, and the seared leaves fall,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And winter hangs out her cold icy pall&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet the footsteps of spring again ye will see,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the singing of birds&mdash;but they sing not for me.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The joys of the past, more faintly recalling,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sweet visions of peace on her spirit are falling,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the soft wing of time, as it speeds for the morrow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wafts a gale, that is drying the dew-drops of sorrow.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">Hope dawns&mdash;and the toils of life's journey beguiling,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The path of the mourner is cheer'd with its smiling;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And there her heart rests, and her wishes all centre,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where parting is never&mdash;nor sorrow can enter.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="THE_BONNIEST_LASS_IN_A_THE_WARLD" id="THE_BONNIEST_LASS_IN_A_THE_WARLD"></a>THE BONNIEST LASS IN A' THE WARLD.</h3>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The bonniest lass in a' the warld,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I 've often heard them telling,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She 's up the hill, she 's down the glen,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She 's in yon lonely dwelling.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But nane could bring her to my mind<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wha lives but in the fancy,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is 't Kate, or Shusie, Jean, or May,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is 't Effie, Bess, or Nancy?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Now lasses a' keep a gude heart,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor e'er envy a comrade,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For be your een black, blue, or gray,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ye 're bonniest aye to some lad.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The tender heart, the charming smile,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The truth that ne'er will falter,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Are charms that never can beguile,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And time can never alter.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</a></span></div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="MY_AIN_KIND_DEARIE_O51" id="MY_AIN_KIND_DEARIE_O51"></a>MY AIN KIND DEARIE, O!<a name="FNanchor_51_51" id="FNanchor_51_51"></a><a href="#Footnote_51_51" class="fnanchor">[51]</a></h3>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Will ye gang ower the lea-rig,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My ain kind dearie, O?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Will ye gang ower the lea-rig,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My ain kind dearie, O?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Gin ye'll tak heart, and gang wi' me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Mishap will never steer ye, O;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Gude luck lies ower the lea-rig,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My ain kind dearie, O!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">There 's walth ower yon green lea-rig,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My ain kind dearie, O!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There 's walth ower yon green lea-rig,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My ain kind dearie, O!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Its neither land, nor gowd, nor braws&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Let them gang tapsle teerie, O!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It 's walth o' peace, o' love, and truth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My ain kind dearie, O!<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="HES_LIFELESS_AMANG_THE_RUDE" id="HES_LIFELESS_AMANG_THE_RUDE"></a>HE'S LIFELESS AMANG THE RUDE
+BILLOWS.</h3>
+
+<p class='center'><span class="smcap">Air</span>&mdash;<i>"The Muckin' o' Geordie's Byre."</i></p>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">He 's lifeless amang the rude billows,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My tears and my sighs are in vain;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The heart that beat warm for his Jeanie,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Will ne'er beat for mortal again.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">My lane now I am i' the warld,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the daylight is grievous to me;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The laddie that lo'ed me sae dearly<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Lies cauld in the deeps o' the sea.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Ye tempests, sae boist'rously raging,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Rage on as ye list&mdash;or be still;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">This heart ye sae often hae sicken'd,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is nae mair the sport o' your will.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now heartless, I hope not&mdash;I fear not,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">High Heaven hae pity on me!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My soul, tho' dismay'd and distracted,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet bends to thy awful decree.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="JOY_OF_MY_EARLIEST_DAYS" id="JOY_OF_MY_EARLIEST_DAYS"></a>JOY OF MY EARLIEST DAYS.</h3>
+
+<p class='center'><span class="smcap">Air</span>&mdash;<i>"I'll never leave thee."</i></p>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Joy of my earliest days,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Why must I grieve thee?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Theme of my fondest lays,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh, I maun leave thee!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Leave thee, love! leave thee, love!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How shall I leave thee?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Absence thy truth will prove,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For, oh! I maun leave thee!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When on yon mossy stane,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wild weeds o'ergrowin',<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ye sit at e'en your lane,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And hear the burn rowin';<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh! think on this partin' hour,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Down by the Garry,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And to Him that has a' the pow'r,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Commend me, my Mary!<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="OH_WEELS_ME_ON_MY_AIN_MAN" id="OH_WEELS_ME_ON_MY_AIN_MAN"></a>OH, WEEL'S ME ON MY AIN MAN.</h3>
+
+<p class='center'><span class="smcap">Air</span>&mdash;<i>"Landlady count the lawin'."</i></p>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Oh, weel's me on my ain man,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My ain man, my ain man!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh, weel's me on my ain gudeman!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He 'll aye be welcome hame.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I 'm wae I blamed him yesternight,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For now my heart is feather light;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For gowd I wadna gie the sight;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I see him linking ower the height.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh, weel's me on my ain man, &amp;c.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Rin, Jamie, bring the kebbuck ben,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And fin' aneath the speckled hen;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Meg, rise and sweep about the fire,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Syne cry on Johnnie frae the byre.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For weel's me on my ain man,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My ain man, my ain man!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For weel's me on my ain gudeman!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I see him linkin' hame.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</a></span></div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="KIND_ROBIN_LOES_ME52" id="KIND_ROBIN_LOES_ME52"></a>KIND ROBIN LOE'S ME.<a name="FNanchor_52_52" id="FNanchor_52_52"></a><a href="#Footnote_52_52" class="fnanchor">[52]</a></h3>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Robin is my ain gudeman,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now match him, carlins, gin ye can,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For ilk ane whitest thinks her swan,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But kind Robin lo'es me.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To mak my boast I 'll e'en be bauld,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For Robin lo'ed me young and auld,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In summer's heat and winter's cauld,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My kind Robin lo'es me.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Robin he comes hame at e'en<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wi' pleasure glancin' in his e'en;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He tells me a' he 's heard and seen,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And syne how he lo'es me.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There 's some hae land, and some hae gowd,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Mair wad hae them gin they could,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But a' I wish o' warld's guid,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is Robin still to lo'e me.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="KITTY_REIDS_HOUSE" id="KITTY_REIDS_HOUSE"></a>KITTY REID'S HOUSE.</h3>
+
+<p class='center'><span class="smcap">Air</span>&mdash;<i>"Country Bumpkin."</i></p>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">Hech, hey! the mirth that was there,<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">The mirth that was there,<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">The mirth that was there;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Hech, how! the mirth that was there,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">In Kitty Reid's house on the green, Jo!<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">There was laughin' and singin', and dancin' and glee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In Kitty's Reid's house, in Kitty Reid's house,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There was laughin' and singin', and dancin' and glee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In Kitty Reid's house on the green, Jo!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">Hech, hey! the fright that was there,<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">The fright that was there,<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">The fright that was there;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Hech, how! the fright that was there,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">In Kitty Reid's house on the green, Jo!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The light glimmer'd in through a crack i' the wa',<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An' a'body thocht the lift it wad fa',<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And lads and lasses they soon ran awa'<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Frae Kitty's Reid's house on the green, Jo!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">Hech, hey! the dule that was there,<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">The dule that was there,<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">The dule that was there;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The birds and beasts it wauken'd them a',<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">In Kitty Reid's house on the green, Jo!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The wa' gaed a hurley, and scatter'd them a',<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The piper, the fiddler, auld Kitty, and a';<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The kye fell a routin', the cocks they did craw,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In Kitty Reid's house on the green, Jo!<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="THE_ROBINS_NEST" id="THE_ROBINS_NEST"></a>THE ROBIN'S NEST.</h3>
+
+<p class='center'><span class="smcap">Air</span>&mdash;<i>"Lochiel's awa' to France."</i></p>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Their nest was in the leafy bush,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sae soft and warm, sae soft and warm,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Robins thought their little brood<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All safe from harm, all safe from harm.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[Pg 207]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">The morning's feast with joy they brought,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To feed their young wi' tender care;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The plunder'd leafy bush they found,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But nest and nestlings saw nae mair.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The mother cou'dna leave the spot,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But wheeling round, and wheeling round,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The cruel spoiler aim'd a shot,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Cured her heart's wound, cured her heart's wound.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She will not hear their helpless cry,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor see them pine in slavery!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The burning breast she will not bide,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For wrongs of wanton knavery.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Oh! bonny Robin Redbreast,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ye trust in men, ye trust in men,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But what their hard hearts are made o',<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ye little ken, ye little ken.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They 'll ne'er wi' your wee skin be warm'd,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor wi' your tiny flesh be fed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But just 'cause you 're a living thing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It 's sport wi' them to lay you dead.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Ye Hieland and ye Lowland lads,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As birdies gay, as birdies gay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh, spare them, whistling like yoursel's,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And hopping blythe from spray to spray!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Their wings were made to soar aloft,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And skim the air at liberty;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And as you freedom gi'e to them,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">May you and yours be ever free!<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[Pg 208]</a></span></div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="SAW_YE_NAE_MY_PEGGY53" id="SAW_YE_NAE_MY_PEGGY53"></a>SAW YE NAE MY PEGGY?<a name="FNanchor_53_53" id="FNanchor_53_53"></a><a href="#Footnote_53_53" class="fnanchor">[53]</a></h3>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Saw ye nae my Peggy?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Saw ye nae my Peggy?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Saw ye nae my Peggy comin'<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Through Tillibelton's broom?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I 'm frae Aberdagie,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ower the crafts o' Craigie,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For aught I ken o' Peggie,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She 's ayont the moon.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">'Twas but at the dawin',<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Clear the cock was crawin',<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I saw Peggy cawin'<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hawky by the brier.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Early bells were ringin',<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Blythest birds were singin',<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sweetest flowers were springin',<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A' her heart to cheer.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Now the tempest's blawin',<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Almond water 's flowin',<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Deep and ford unknowin',<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She maun cross the day.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Almond waters, spare her,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Safe to Lynedoch bear her!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Its braes ne'er saw a fairer,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Bess Bell nor Mary Gray.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[Pg 209]</a></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Oh, now to be wi' her!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or but ance to see her<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Skaithless, far or near,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I 'd gie Scotland's crown.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Byeword, blind 's a lover&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wha 's yon I discover?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Just yer ain fair rover,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Stately stappin' down.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="GUDE_NICHT_AND_JOY_BE_WI_YE_A" id="GUDE_NICHT_AND_JOY_BE_WI_YE_A"></a>GUDE NICHT, AND JOY BE WI' YE A'!</h3>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The best o' joys maun hae an end,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The best o' friends maun part, I trow;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The langest day will wear away,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And I maun bid fareweel to you.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The tear will tell when hearts are fu',<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For words, gin they hae sense ava,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They 're broken, faltering, and few:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Gude nicht, and joy be wi' you a'!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Oh, we hae wander'd far and wide,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O'er Scotia's lands o' frith and fell!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And mony a simple flower we 've pu'd,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And twined it wi' the heather-bell.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We 've ranged the dingle and the dell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The cot-house, and the baron's ha';<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now we maun tak a last farewell:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Gude nicht, and joy be wi' you a'!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">My harp, fareweel! thy strains are past,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of gleefu' mirth, and heartfelt care;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The voice of song maun cease at last,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And minstrelsy itsel' decay.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[Pg 210]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">But, oh! whar sorrow canna win,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor parting tears are shed ava',<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">May we meet neighbour, kith, and kin,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And joy for aye be wi' us a'!<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="CAULD_KAIL_IN_ABERDEEN54" id="CAULD_KAIL_IN_ABERDEEN54"></a>CAULD KAIL IN ABERDEEN.<a name="FNanchor_54_54" id="FNanchor_54_54"></a><a href="#Footnote_54_54" class="fnanchor">[54]</a></h3>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">There 's cauld kail in Aberdeen,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There 's castocks in Strabogie;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And morn and e'en, they 're blythe and bein,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That haud them frae the cogie.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now, haud ye frae the cogie, lads;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O bide ye frae the cogie!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I 'll tell ye true, ye 'll never rue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O' passin' by the cogie.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Young Will was braw and weel put on,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sae blythe was he and vogie;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And he got bonnie Mary Don,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The flower o' a' Strabogie.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wha wad hae thocht, at wooin' time,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He 'd e'er forsaken Mary,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And ta'en him to the tipplin' trade,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wi' boozin' Rob and Harry?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Sair Mary wrought, sair Mary grat,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She scarce could lift the ladle;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wi' pithless feet, 'tween ilka greet,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She 'd rock the borrow'd cradle.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[Pg 211]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">Her weddin' plenishin' was gane,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She never thocht to borrow:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her bonnie face was waxin' wan&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Will wrought a' the sorrow.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">He 's reelin' hame ae winter's nicht,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Some later than the gloamin';<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He 's ta'en the rig, he 's miss'd the brig,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Bogie 's ower him foamin'.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wi' broken banes, out ower the stanes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He creepit up Strabogie;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And a' the nicht he pray'd wi' micht,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To keep him frae the cogie.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Now Mary's heart is light again&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She 's neither sick nor silly;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For auld or young, nae sinfu' tongue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Could e'er entice her Willie;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And aye the sang through Bogie rang&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"O had ye frae the cogie;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The weary gill 's the sairest ill<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On braes o' fair Strabogie."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="HES_OWER_THE_HILLS_THAT_I_LOE" id="HES_OWER_THE_HILLS_THAT_I_LOE"></a>HE'S OWER THE HILLS THAT I LO'E
+WEEL.</h3>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">He 's ower the hills that I lo'e weel,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He 's ower the hills we daurna name;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He 's ower the hills ayont Dunblane,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wha soon will get his welcome hame.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[Pg 212]</a></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">My father's gane to fight for him,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My brithers winna bide at hame;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My mither greets and prays for them,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And 'deed she thinks they 're no to blame.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">He 's ower the hills, &amp;c.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The Whigs may scoff, the Whigs may jeer;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But, ah! that love maun be sincere<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which still keeps true whate'er betide,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An' for his sake leaves a' beside.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">He 's ower the hills, &amp;c.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">His right these hills, his right these plains;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ower Hieland hearts secure he reigns;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What lads e'er did our laddies will do;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Were I a laddie, I 'd follow him too.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">He 's ower the hills, &amp;c.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Sae noble a look, sae princely an air,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sae gallant and bold, sae young and sae fair;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh, did ye but see him, ye 'd do as we've done!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hear him but ance, to his standard you 'll run.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">He 's ower the hills, &amp;c.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Then draw the claymore, for Charlie then fight;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For your country, religion, and a' that is right;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Were ten thousand lives now given to me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I 'd die as aft for ane o' the three.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">He 's ower the hills, &amp;c.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[Pg 213]</a></span></div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="THE_LASS_O_GOWRIE55" id="THE_LASS_O_GOWRIE55"></a>THE LASS O' GOWRIE.<a name="FNanchor_55_55" id="FNanchor_55_55"></a><a href="#Footnote_55_55" class="fnanchor">[55]</a></h3>
+
+<p class='center'><span class="smcap">Air</span>&mdash;<i>"Loch Erroch Side."</i></p>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">'Twas on a summer's afternoon,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A wee afore the sun gaed down,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A lassie, wi' a braw new gown,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Cam' ower the hills to Gowrie.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The rose-bud, wash'd in summer's shower,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Bloom'd fresh within the sunny bower;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But Kitty was the fairest flower<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That e'er was seen in Gowrie.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[Pg 214]</a></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">To see her cousin she cam' there,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An', oh, the scene was passing fair!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For what in Scotland can compare<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wi' the Carse o' Gowrie?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The sun was setting on the Tay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The blue hills melting into gray;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The mavis' and the blackbird's lay<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Were sweetly heard in Gowrie.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Oh, lang the lassie I had woo'd!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An' truth and constancy had vow'd,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But cam' nae speed wi' her I lo'ed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Until she saw fair Gowrie.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[Pg 215]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">I pointed to my faither's ha',<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yon bonnie bield ayont the shaw,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sae loun' that there nae blast could blaw;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wad she no bide in Gowrie?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Her faither was baith glad and wae;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her mither she wad naething say;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The bairnies thocht they wad get play<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If Kitty gaed to Gowrie.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She whiles did smile, she whiles did greet,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The blush and tear were on her cheek;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She naething said, an' hung her head;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But now she's Leddy Gowrie.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="THERE_GROWS_A_BONNIE_BRIER_BUSH56" id="THERE_GROWS_A_BONNIE_BRIER_BUSH56"></a>THERE GROWS A BONNIE BRIER BUSH.<a name="FNanchor_56_56" id="FNanchor_56_56"></a><a href="#Footnote_56_56" class="fnanchor">[56]</a></h3>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">There grows a bonnie brier bush in our kail-yard,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And white are the blossoms o't in our kail-yard,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Like wee bit white cockauds to deck our Hieland lads,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the lasses lo'e the bonnie bush in our kail-yard.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">An' it 's hame, an' it 's hame to the north countrie,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An' it 's hame, an' it 's hame to the north countrie,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where my bonnie Jean is waiting for me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wi' a heart kind and true, in my ain countrie.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"But were they a' true that were far awa?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh! were they a' true that were far awa'?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They drew up wi' glaikit Englishers at Carlisle Ha',<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And forgot auld frien's that were far awa.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[Pg 216]</a></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Ye 'll come nae mair, Jamie, where aft ye 've been,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ye 'll come nae mair, Jamie, to Atholl's green;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ye lo'ed ower weel the dancin' at Carlisle Ha',<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And forgot the Hieland hills that were far awa'."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"I ne'er lo'ed a dance but on Atholl's green,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I ne'er lo'ed a lassie but my dorty Jean,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sair, sair against my will did I bide sae lang awa',<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And my heart was aye in Atholl's green at Carlisle Ha'."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;*&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;*&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;*&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;*&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;*<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The brier bush was bonnie ance in our kail-yard;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The brier bush was bonnie ance in our kail-yard;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A blast blew ower the hill, that gae Atholl's flowers a chill,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the bloom 's blawn aff the bonnie bush in our kail-yard.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="JOHN_TOD" id="JOHN_TOD"></a>JOHN TOD.</h3>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">He 's a terrible man, John Tod, John Tod,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He 's a terrible man, John Tod;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">He scolds in the house,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">He scolds at the door,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He scolds on the vera hie road, John Tod,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He scolds on the vera hie road.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The weans a' fear John Tod, John Tod,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The weans a' fear John Tod;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">When he 's passing by,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The mithers will cry,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Here 's an ill wean, John Tod, John Tod,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Here 's an ill wean, John Tod.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[Pg 217]</a></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The callants a' fear John Tod, John Tod,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The callants a' fear John Tod;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">If they steal but a neep,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The callant he 'll whip,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And it 's unco weel done o' John Tod, John Tod,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It 's unco weel done o' John Tod.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">An' saw ye nae wee John Tod, John Tod?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh, saw ye nae wee John Tod?<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">His bannet was blue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">His shoon maistly new,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An' weel does he keep the kirk road, John Tod,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh, weel does he keep the kirk road.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">How is he fendin', John Tod, John Tod?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How is he wendin', John Tod?<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">He 's scourin' the land,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Wi' his rung in his hand,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An' the French wadna frighten John Tod, John Tod,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An' the French wadna frighten John Tod.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Ye 're sun-brunt and batter'd, John Tod, John Tod<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ye 're tantit and tatter'd, John Tod;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Wi' your auld strippit coul,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Ye look maist like a fule,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But there 's nouse i' the lining,<a name="FNanchor_57_57" id="FNanchor_57_57"></a><a href="#Footnote_57_57" class="fnanchor">[57]</a> John Tod, John Tod,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But there 's nouse i' the lining, John Tod.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">He 's weel respeckit, John Tod, John Tod,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He 's weel respeckit, John Tod;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">He 's a terrible man,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">But we 'd a' gae wrang<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If e'er he sud leave us, John Tod, John Tod,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If e'er he sud leave us, John Tod.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[Pg 218]</a></span></div></div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="WILL_YE_NO_COME_BACK_AGAIN" id="WILL_YE_NO_COME_BACK_AGAIN"></a>WILL YE NO COME BACK AGAIN?</h3>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Bonnie Charlie 's now awa',<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Safely ower the friendly main;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Mony a heart will break in twa<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Should he ne'er come back again.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Will ye no come back again?<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Will ye no come back again?<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Better lo'ed ye canna be&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Will ye no come back again?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Ye trusted in your Hieland men,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They trusted you, dear Charlie!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They kent your hiding in the glen,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Death or exile braving.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Will ye no, &amp;c.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">English bribes were a' in vain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Tho' puir, and puirer, we maun be;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Siller canna buy the heart<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That beats aye for thine and thee.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Will ye no, &amp;c.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">We watch'd thee in the gloamin' hour,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We watch'd thee in the mornin' gray;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Though thirty thousand pound they gi'e,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh, there is none that wad betray!<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Will ye no, &amp;c.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Sweet 's the laverock's note, and lang,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Lilting wildly up the glen;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But aye to me he sings ae sang,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Will ye no come back again?<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Will ye no, &amp;c.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[Pg 219]</a></span></div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="JAMIE_THE_LAIRD" id="JAMIE_THE_LAIRD"></a>JAMIE THE LAIRD.</h3>
+
+<p class='center'><span class="smcap">Air</span>&mdash;<i>"The Rock and the Wee Pickle Tow."</i></p>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Send a horse to the water, ye 'll no mak him drink,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Send a fule to the college, ye 'll no mak him think;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Send a craw to the singin', an' still he will craw,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An' the wee laird had nae rummulgumshion ava.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet is he the pride o' his fond mother's e'e,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In body or mind, nae fau't can she see;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"He 's a fell clever lad, an' a bonny wee man,"<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is aye the beginnin' an' end o' her sang.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An' oh! she 's a haverin' lucky, I trow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An' oh! she 's a haverin' lucky, I trow;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"He 's a fell clever lad, an' a bonny wee man,"<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is aye the beginnin' an' end o' her sang.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">His legs they are bow'd, his een they do glee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His wig, whiles it 's aff, and when on, it 's ajee;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He 's braid as he 's lang, an' ill-faur'd is he,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A dafter-like body I never did see.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An' yet for this cratur' she says I am deein',<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When that I deny, she 's fear'd at my leein';<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Obliged to put up wi' this sair defamation,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I'm liken to dee wi' grief an' vexation.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An' oh! she 's a haverin' lucky, &amp;c.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">An' her clishmaclavers gang a' through the toun,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An' the wee lairdie trows I 'll hang or I 'll droun.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wi' his gawky-like face, yestreen he did say,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"I 'll maybe tak you, for Bess I 'll no hae,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor Mattie, nor Effie, nor lang-legged Jeanie,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor Nelly, nor Katie, nor skirlin' wee Beenie."<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[Pg 220]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">I stappit my ears, ran aff in a fury&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I 'm thinkin' to bring them afore judge an' jury.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For oh! what a randy auld luckie is she, &amp;c.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Freen's! gi'e your advice!&mdash;I 'll follow your counsel&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Maun I speak to the Provost, or honest Toun Council,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or the writers, or lawyers, or doctors? now say,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For the law on the lucky I shall an' will hae.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The hale toun at me are jibin' and jeerin',<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For a leddy like me it 's really past bearin';<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The lucky maun now hae dune wi' her claverin',<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For I 'll no put up wi' her nor her haverin'.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For oh! she 's a randy, I trow, I trow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For oh! she 's a randy, I trow, I trow;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"He 's a fell clever lad, an' a bonny wee man,"<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is aye the beginnin' an' end o' her sang.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="SONGS_OF_MY_NATIVE_LAND" id="SONGS_OF_MY_NATIVE_LAND"></a>SONGS OF MY NATIVE LAND.</h3>
+
+<p class='center'><span class="smcap">Air</span>&mdash;<i>"Happy Land."</i></p>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Songs of my native land,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To me how dear!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Songs of my infancy,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sweet to mine ear!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Entwined with my youthful days,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wi' the bonny banks and braes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where the winding burnie strays,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Murmuring near.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Strains of my native land,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That thrill the soul,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Pouring the magic of<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Your soft control!<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[Pg 221]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">Often has your minstrelsy<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Soothed the pang of misery,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Winging rapid thoughts away<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To realms on high.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Weary pilgrims <i>there</i> have rest,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Their wand'rings o'er;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There the slave, no more oppress'd,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hails Freedom's shore.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sin shall then no more deface,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sickness, pain, and sorrow cease,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ending in eternal peace,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And songs of joy!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">There, when the seraphs sing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In cloudless day;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There, where the higher praise<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The ransom'd pay.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Soft strains of the happy land,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Chanted by the heavenly band,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who can fully understand<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How sweet ye be!<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="CASTELL_GLOOM58" id="CASTELL_GLOOM58"></a>CASTELL GLOOM.<a name="FNanchor_58_58" id="FNanchor_58_58"></a><a href="#Footnote_58_58" class="fnanchor">[58]</a></h3>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Oh, Castell Gloom! thy strength is gone,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The green grass o'er thee growin';<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On hill of <i>Care</i> thou art alone,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The <i>Sorrow</i> round thee flowin'.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[Pg 222]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh, Castell Gloom! on thy fair wa's<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nae banners now are streamin',<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The houlet flits amang thy ha's,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And wild birds there are screamin'.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh! mourn the woe, oh! mourn the crime,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Frae civil war that flows;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh! mourn, Argyll, thy fallen line,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And mourn the great Montrose.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Here ladies bright were aften seen,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Here valiant warriors trod;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And here great Knox has aften been,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wha fear'd nought but his God!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But a' are gane! the guid, the great,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And naething now remains,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But ruin sittin' on thy wa's,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And crumblin' down the stanes.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh! mourn the woe, &amp;c.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Thy lofty Ochils bright did glow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Though sleepin' was the sun;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But mornin's light did sadly show,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What ragin' flames had done.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh, mirk, mirk was the misty cloud,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That hung o'er thy wild wood!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thou wert like beauty in a shroud,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And all was solitude.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh! mourn the woe, &amp;c.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[Pg 223]</a></span></div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="BONNIE_GASCON_HA" id="BONNIE_GASCON_HA"></a>BONNIE GASCON HA'.</h3>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Lane, on the winding Earn there stands<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An unco tow'r, sae stern an' auld,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Biggit by lang forgotten hands,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ance refuge o' the Wallace bauld.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Time's restless fingers sair hath waur'd<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And rived thy gray disjaskit wa',<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But rougher hands nor Time's hae daur'd<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To wrang thee, bonnie Gascon Ha'!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Oh, may a muse unkent to fame<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For this dim greesome relic sue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It 's linkit wi' a patriot's name,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The truest Scotland ever knew.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Just leave in peace each mossy stane<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Tellin' o' nations' rivalry,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An' for succeeding ages hain<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Remains o' Scottish chivalry.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;*&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;*&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;*&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;*&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;*<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">What though no monument to thee<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is biggit by thy country's hand;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Engraved are thy immortal deeds<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On every heart o' this braid land.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Rude Time may monuments ding doun,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An' tow'rs an' wa's maun a' decay;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Enduring, deathless, noble chief,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thy name can never pass away!<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[Pg 224]</a></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Gi'e pillar'd fame to common men,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nae need o' cairns for ane like thee;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In every cave, wood, hill, and glen,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"<span class="smcap">Wallace</span>" remember'd aye shall be.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="THE_AULD_HOUSE" id="THE_AULD_HOUSE"></a>THE AULD HOUSE.</h3>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Oh, the auld house, the auld house!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What though the rooms were wee?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh, kind hearts were dwelling there,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And bairnies fu' o' glee!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The wild-rose and the jesamine<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Still hang upon the wa';<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How mony cherish'd memories<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Do they, sweet flowers, reca'!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Oh, the auld laird, the auld laird!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sae canty, kind, and crouse;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How mony did he welcome to<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His ain wee dear auld house!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the leddy too, sae genty,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There shelter'd Scotland's heir,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And clipt a lock wi' her ain hand<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Frae his lang yellow hair.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The mavis still doth sweetly sing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The blue bells sweetly blaw,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The bonnie Earn 's clear winding still,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But the auld house is awa'.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The auld house, the auld house,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Deserted though ye be,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There ne'er can be a new house,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Will seem sae fair to me.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[Pg 225]</a></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Still flourishing the auld pear tree<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The bairnies liked to see,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And oh, how aften did they speir<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When ripe they a' wad be!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The voices sweet, the wee bit feet<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Aye rinnin' here and there,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The merry shout&mdash;oh! whiles we greet<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To think we 'll hear nae mair.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">For they are a' wide scatter'd now,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Some to the Indies gane,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And ane, alas! to her lang hame;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Not here we 'll meet again.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The kirkyaird, the kirkyaird,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wi' flowers o' every hue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shelter'd by the holly's shade,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An' the dark sombre yew.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The setting sun, the setting sun,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How glorious it gaed down;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The cloudy splendour raised our hearts<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To cloudless skies aboon!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The auld dial, the auld dial,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It tauld how time did pass;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The wintry winds hae dung it down,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now hid 'mang weeds and grass.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[Pg 226]</a></span></div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="THE_HUNDRED_PIPERS59" id="THE_HUNDRED_PIPERS59"></a>THE HUNDRED PIPERS.<a name="FNanchor_59_59" id="FNanchor_59_59"></a><a href="#Footnote_59_59" class="fnanchor">[59]</a></h3>
+
+<p class='center'><span class="smcap">Air</span>&mdash;<i>"Hundred Pipers."</i></p>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Wi' a hundred pipers, an' a', an' a',<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wi' a hundred pipers, an' a', an' a',<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We 'll up, and we 'll gi'e them a blaw, a blaw,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wi' a hundred pipers, an' a', an' a'.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It is ower the border, awa', awa',<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It is ower the border, awa', awa',<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh, we 'll on, an' we 'll march to Carlisle ha',<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wi' its yetts, its castel, an' a', an' a'.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Oh, our brave sodger lads look'd braw, an' braw,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wi' their tartans, their kilts, an' a', an' a',<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wi' bannets an' feathers, an' glittrin' gear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An' pibrochs soundin' sae sweet an' clear.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Will they a' come hame to their ain dear glen?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Will they a' return, our brave Hieland men?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh, second-sighted Sandie look'd fu' wae,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An' mithers grat sair whan they march'd away.<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Wi' a hundred pipers, &amp;c.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Oh, wha is the foremaist o' a', o' a'?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wha is it first follows the blaw, the blaw?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Bonnie Charlie, the king o' us a', us a',<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wi' his hundred pipers, an' a', an' a'.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[Pg 227]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">His bannet and feather, he 's waving high,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His prancin' steed maist seems to fly;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The nor' wind plays wi' his curly hair,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While the pipers blaw up an unco flare!<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Wi' his hundred pipers, &amp;c.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The Esk was swollen sae red an' sae deep,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But shouther to shouther the brave lads keep;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Twa thousand swam ower to fell English ground,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An' danced themselves dry to the pibroch sound.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Dumfounder'd the English were a', were a',<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Dumfounder'd they a' heard the blaw, the blaw,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Dumfounder'd they a' ran awa', awa',<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Frae the hundred pipers, an' a', an' a'.<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Wi' a hundred pipers, &amp;c.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="THE_WOMEN_ARE_A_GANE_WUD60" id="THE_WOMEN_ARE_A_GANE_WUD60"></a>THE WOMEN ARE A' GANE WUD.<a name="FNanchor_60_60" id="FNanchor_60_60"></a><a href="#Footnote_60_60" class="fnanchor">[60]</a></h3>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The women are a' gane wud,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh, that he had biden awa'!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He 's turn'd their heads, the lad,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And ruin will bring on us a'.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">George was a peaceable man,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My wife she did doucely behave;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But now dae a' that I can,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She 's just as wild as the lave.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">My wife she wears the cockade,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Tho' I 've bidden her no to do sae,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She has a true friend in her maid,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And they ne'er mind a word that I say.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[Pg 228]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">The wild Hieland lads as they pass,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The yetts wide open do flee;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They eat the very house bare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And nae leave 's speer'd o' me.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I 've lived a' my days in the Strath<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now Tories infest me at hame,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And tho' I tak nae side at a',<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Baith sides will gae me the blame.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The senseless creturs ne'er think<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What ill the lad wad bring back;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Pope we 'd hae, and the d&mdash;l,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And a' the rest o' his pack.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="JEANIE_DEANS61" id="JEANIE_DEANS61"></a>JEANIE DEANS.<a name="FNanchor_61_61" id="FNanchor_61_61"></a><a href="#Footnote_61_61" class="fnanchor">[61]</a></h3>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">St Leonard's hill was lightsome land,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where gowan'd grass was growin',<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For man and beast were food and rest,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And milk and honey flowin'.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A father's blessing follow'd close,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where'er her foot was treading,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Jeanie's humble, hamely joys<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On every side were spreading wide,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On every side were spreading.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The mossy turf on Arthur's Seat,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">St Anthon's well aye springin';<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The lammies playing at her feet,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The birdies round her singin'.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[Pg 229]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">The solemn haunts o' Holyrood,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wi' bats and hoolits eerie,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The tow'ring crags o' Salisbury,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The lowly wells o' Weary, O<a name="FNanchor_62_62" id="FNanchor_62_62"></a><a href="#Footnote_62_62" class="fnanchor">[62]</a><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The lowly wells o' Weary.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But evil days and evil men,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Came ower their sunny dwellin',<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Like thunder-storms on sunny skies,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or wastefu' waters swellin'.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What aince was sweet is bitter now,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The sun of joy is setting;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In eyes that wont to glame wi' glee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The briny tear is wetting fast,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The briny tear is wetting.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Her inmost thoughts to Heaven is sent,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In faithful supplication;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her earthly stay 's Macallummore,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The guardian o' the nation.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A hero's heart&mdash;a sister's love&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A martyr's truth unbending;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They 're a' in Jeanie's tartan plaid&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And she is gane, her leefu' lane,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To Lunnon toun she 's wending!<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[Pg 230]</a></span></div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="THE_HEIRESS63" id="THE_HEIRESS63"></a>THE HEIRESS.<a name="FNanchor_63_63" id="FNanchor_63_63"></a><a href="#Footnote_63_63" class="fnanchor">[63]</a></h3>
+
+<p class='center'><span class="smcap">Gaelic Air</span>&mdash;<i>"Mo Leannan Falnich."</i></p>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I 'll no be had for naething,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I 'll no be had for naething,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I tell ye, lads, that 's ae thing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So ye needna follow me.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh, the change is most surprising,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Last year I was plain Betty Brown,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now to me they 're a' aspiring,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The fair Elizabeth I am grown!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">What siller does is most amazing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nane o' them e'er look'd at me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now my charms they a' are praising,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For my sake they 're like to dee.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Laird, the Shirra, and the Doctor,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wi' twa three Lords o' high degree;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wi' heaps o' Writers I could mention&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh, surely this is no me!<br /></span>
+<span class="i11">But I 'll no, &amp;c.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The yett is now for ever ringing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Showers o' valentines aye bringing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Fill'd wi' Cupids, flames, and darts,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Fae auld and young, wi' broken hearts.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The siller, O the weary siller!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Aft in toil and trouble sought,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But better far it should be sae,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Than that true hearts should e'er be bought.<br /></span>
+<span class="i11">Sae I 'll no, &amp;c.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[Pg 231]</a></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But there is ane, when I had naething,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A' his heart he gi'ed to me;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And sair he toil'd for a wee thing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To bring me when he cam frae sea.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If ever I should marry ony,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He will be the lad for me;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For he was baith gude and bonny,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And he thought the same o' me.<br /></span>
+<span class="i11">Sae I 'll no, &amp;c.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="THE_MITHERLESS_LAMMIE" id="THE_MITHERLESS_LAMMIE"></a>THE MITHERLESS LAMMIE.</h3>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The mitherless lammie ne'er miss'd its ain mammie,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We tentit it kindly by night and by day,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The bairnies made game o't, it had a blithe hame o't,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Its food was the gowan&mdash;its music was "<i>mai</i>."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Without tie or fetter, it couldna been better,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But it would gae witless the world to see;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The foe that it fear'd not, it saw not, it heard not,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Was watching its wand'ring frae Bonnington Lea.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Oh, what then befell it, 't were waefu' to tell it,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Tod Lowrie kens best, wi' his lang head sae sly;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He met the pet lammie, that wanted its mammie,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And left its kind hame the wide world to try.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">We miss'd it at day-dawn, we miss'd it at night-fa'in',<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Its wee shed is tenantless under the tree,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ae dusk i' the gloamin' it wad gae a roamin';<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'T will frolic nae mair upon Bonnington Lea.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[Pg 232]</a></span></div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="THE_ATTAINTED_SCOTTISH_NOBLES64" id="THE_ATTAINTED_SCOTTISH_NOBLES64"></a>THE ATTAINTED SCOTTISH NOBLES.<a name="FNanchor_64_64" id="FNanchor_64_64"></a><a href="#Footnote_64_64" class="fnanchor">[64]</a></h3>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Oh, some will tune their mournfu' strains,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To tell o' hame-made sorrow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And if they cheat you o' your tears,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They 'll dry upon the morrow.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh, some will sing their airy dreams,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In verity they're sportin',<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My sang 's o' nae sic thieveless themes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But wakin' true misfortune.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Ye Scottish nobles, ane and a',<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For loyalty attainted,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A nameless bardie 's wae to see<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Your sorrows unlamented;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For if your fathers ne'er had fought<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For heirs of ancient royalty,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ye 're down the day that might hae been<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">At the top o' honour's tree a'.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">For old hereditary right,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For conscience' sake they stoutly stood;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And for the crown their valiant sons<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Themselves have shed their injured blood;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And if their fathers ne'er had fought<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For heirs of ancient royalty,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They 're down the day that might hae been<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">At the top o' honour's tree a'.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[Pg 233]</a></span></div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="TRUE_LOVE_IS_WATERED_AYE_WI" id="TRUE_LOVE_IS_WATERED_AYE_WI"></a>TRUE LOVE IS WATERED AYE WI'
+TEARS.<a name="FNanchor_65_65" id="FNanchor_65_65"></a><a href="#Footnote_65_65" class="fnanchor">[65]</a></h3>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">True love is water'd aye wi' tears,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It grows 'neath stormy skies,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It 's fenced around wi' hopes and fears<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An' fann'd wi' heartfelt sighs.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wi' chains o' gowd it will no be bound,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh! wha the heart can buy?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The titled glare, the warldling's care,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Even absence 'twill defy,<br /></span>
+<span class="i11">Even absence 'twill defy.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And time, that kills a' ither things,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His withering touch 'twill brave,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'Twill live in joy, 'twill live in grief,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'Twill live beyond the grave!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'Twill live, 'twill live, though buried deep,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In true heart's memorie&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh! we forgot that ane sae fair,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sae bricht, sae young, could dee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i11">Sae young could dee.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Unfeeling hands may touch the chord<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where buried griefs do lie&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How many silent agonies<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">May that rude touch untie!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But, oh! I love that plaintive lay&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That dear auld melodie!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For, oh, 'tis sweet!&mdash;yet I maun greet,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For it was sung by thee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i11">Sung by thee!<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[Pg 234]</a></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">They may forget wha lichtly love,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or feel but beauty's chain;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But they wha loved a heavenly mind<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Can never love again!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A' my dreams o' warld's guid<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Aye were turn'd wi' thee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But I leant on a broken reed<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which soon was ta'en frae me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i11">Ta'en frae me.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">'Tis weel, 'tis weel, we dinna ken<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What we may live to see,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'Twas Mercy's hand that hung the veil<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O'er sad futurity!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh, ye whose hearts are scathed and riven,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wha feel the warld is vain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh, fix your broken earthly ties<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where they ne'er will break again,<br /></span>
+<span class="i11">Break again!<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="AH_LITTLE_DID_MY_MOTHER_THINK66" id="AH_LITTLE_DID_MY_MOTHER_THINK66"></a>AH, LITTLE DID MY MOTHER THINK.<a name="FNanchor_66_66" id="FNanchor_66_66"></a><a href="#Footnote_66_66" class="fnanchor">[66]</a></h3>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Ah, little did my mother think<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When to me she sung,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What a heartbreak I would be,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her young and dautit son.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And oh! how fond she was o' me<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In plaid and bonnet braw,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When I bade farewell to the north countrie,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And marching gaed awa!<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[Pg 235]</a></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Ah! little did my mother think<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A banish'd man I 'd be,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sent frae a' my kith and kin,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Them never mair to see.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Oh! father, 'twas the sugar'd drap<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Aft ye did gi'e to me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That has brought a' this misery<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Baith to you and me.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="WOULD_YOU_BE_YOUNG_AGAIN67" id="WOULD_YOU_BE_YOUNG_AGAIN67"></a>WOULD YOU BE YOUNG AGAIN?<a name="FNanchor_67_67" id="FNanchor_67_67"></a><a href="#Footnote_67_67" class="fnanchor">[67]</a></h3>
+
+<p class='center'><span class="smcap">Air</span>&mdash;<i>"Ailen Aroon."</i></p>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Would you be young again?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So would not I&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">One tear to memory given,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Onward I 'd hie.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Life's dark flood forded o'er,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All but at rest on shore,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Say, would you plunge once more,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With home so nigh?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">If you might, would you now<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Retrace your way?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wander through stormy wilds,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Faint and astray?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Night's gloomy watches fled,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Morning all beaming red,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hope's smiles around us shed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Heavenward&mdash;away.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[Pg 236]</a></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Where, then, are those dear ones,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Our joy and delight?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Dear and more dear though now<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hidden from sight.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where they rejoice to be,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There is the land for me;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Fly, time, fly speedily;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Come, life and light.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="REST_IS_NOT_HERE" id="REST_IS_NOT_HERE"></a>REST IS NOT HERE.</h3>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">What 's this vain world to me?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Rest is not here;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">False are the smiles I see,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The mirth I hear.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where is youth's joyful glee?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where all once dear to me?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Gone, as the shadows flee&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Rest is not here.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Why did the morning shine<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Blythely and fair?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Why did those tints so fine<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Vanish in air?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Does not the vision say,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Faint, lingering heart, away,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Why in this desert stay&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Dark land of care!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Where souls angelic soar,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thither repair;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Let this vain world no more<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Lull and ensnare.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[Pg 237]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">That heaven I love so well<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Still in my heart shall dwell;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All things around me tell<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Rest is found there.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="HERES_TO_THEM_THAT_ARE_GANE" id="HERES_TO_THEM_THAT_ARE_GANE"></a>HERE'S TO THEM THAT ARE GANE.</h3>
+
+<p class='center'><span class="smcap">Air</span>&mdash;<i>"Here 's a health to ane I lo'e weel."</i></p>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Here 's to them, to them that are gane;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Here 's to them, to them that are gane;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Here 's to them that were here, the faithful and dear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That will never be here again&mdash;no, never.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But where are they now that are gane?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh, where are the faithful and true?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They 're gane to the light that fears not the night,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An' their day of rejoicing shall end&mdash;no, never.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Here 's to them, to them that were here;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Here 's to them, to them that were here;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Here 's a tear and a sigh to the bliss that 's gane by,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But 'twas ne'er like what 's coming, to last&mdash;for ever.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh, bright was their morning sun!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh, bright was their morning sun!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet, lang ere the gloaming, in clouds it gaed down;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But the storm and the cloud are now past&mdash;for ever.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Fareweel, fareweel! parting silence is sad;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh, how sad the last parting tear!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But that silence shall break, where no tear on the cheek<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Can bedim the bright vision again&mdash;no, never.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[Pg 238]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">Then, speed to the wings of old Time,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That waft us where pilgrims would be;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To the regions of rest, to the shores of the blest,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where the full tide of glory shall flow&mdash;for ever.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="FAREWEEL_O_FAREWEEL" id="FAREWEEL_O_FAREWEEL"></a>FAREWEEL, O FAREWEEL!</h3>
+
+<p class='center'>GAELIC AIR.</p>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Fareweel, O fareweel!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My heart it is sair;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Fareweel, O fareweel!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I 'll see him nae mair.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Lang, lang was he mine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Lang, lang&mdash;but nae mair;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I mauna repine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But my heart it is sair.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">His staff 's at the wa',<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Toom, toom is his chair!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His bannet, an' a'!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An' I maun be here!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But oh! he 's at rest,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Why sud I complain?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Gin my soul be blest,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I 'll meet him again.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Oh, to meet him again,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where hearts ne'er were sair!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh, to meet him again,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To part never mair!<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[Pg 239]</a></span></div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="THE_DEAD_WHO_HAVE_DIED_IN_THE" id="THE_DEAD_WHO_HAVE_DIED_IN_THE"></a>THE DEAD WHO HAVE DIED IN THE
+LORD.<a name="FNanchor_68_68" id="FNanchor_68_68"></a><a href="#Footnote_68_68" class="fnanchor">[68]</a></h3>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Go, call for the mourners, and raise the lament,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Let the tresses be torn, and the garments be rent;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But weep not for him who is gone to his rest,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor mourn for the ransom'd, nor wail for the blest.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The sun is not set, but is risen on high,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor long in corruption his body shall lie&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then let not the tide of thy griefs overflow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor the music of heaven be discord below;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Rather loud be the song, and triumphant the chord,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Let us joy for the dead who have died in the Lord.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Go, call for the mourners, and raise the lament,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Let the tresses be torn, and the garments be rent;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But give to the living thy passion of tears<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who walk in this valley of sadness and fears,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who are press'd by the combat, in darkness are lost,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By the tempest are beat, on the billows are toss'd.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh, weep not for those who shall sorrow no more,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whose warfare is ended, whose combat is o'er;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Let the song be exalted, be triumphant the chord,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And rejoice for the dead who have died in the Lord.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[Pg 240]</a></span></div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="JAMES_NICOL" id="JAMES_NICOL"></a>JAMES NICOL.</h2>
+
+
+<p>James Nicol, the son of Michael Nicol and Marion
+Hope, was born at Innerleithen, in the county of
+Peebles, on the 28th of September 1769. Having
+acquired the elements of classical knowledge under Mr
+Tate, the parochial schoolmaster, he was sent to the
+University of Edinburgh, where he pursued study with
+unflinching assiduity and success. On completing his
+academical studies, he was licensed as a probationer by
+the Presbytery of Peebles. His first professional employment
+was as an assistant to the minister of Traquair,
+a parish bordering on that of Innerleithen; and on the
+death of the incumbent, Mr Nicol succeeded to the
+living. On the 4th of November 1802, he was ordained
+to the ministerial office; and on the 25th of the same
+month and year, he espoused Agnes Walker, a native of
+Glasgow, and the sister of his immediate predecessor,
+who had for a considerable period possessed a warm
+place in his affections, and been the heroine of his poetical
+reveries. He had for some time been in the habit of
+communicating verses to the <i>Edinburgh Magazine</i>; and
+he afterwards published a collection of "Poems, chiefly in
+the Scottish Dialect," Edinburgh, 1805, 2 vols. 12mo.
+This publication, which was well received, contains some
+lyrical effusions that entitle the author to a respectable
+rank among the modern cultivators of national poetry;
+yet it is to be regretted that a deep admiration of
+Burns has led him into an imitation, somewhat servile,
+of that immortal bard.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[Pg 241]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>At Traquair Mr Nicol continued to devote himself to
+mental improvement. He read extensively; and writing
+upon the subject of his studies was his daily habit.
+He was never robust, being affected with a chronic disorder
+of the stomach; and when sickness prevented
+him, as occasionally happened, from writing in a sitting
+posture, he would for hours together have devoted himself
+to composition in a standing position. Of his prose
+writings, which were numerous, the greater number still
+remain in MS., in the possession of his elder son. During
+his lifetime, he contributed a number of articles to
+the <i>Edinburgh Encyclop&aelig;dia</i>, among which are "Baptism,"
+"Baptistry," "Baptists," "Bithynia," and
+"Cranmer." His posthumous work, "An Essay on
+the Nature and Design of Scripture Sacrifices," was
+published in an octavo volume in the year 1823.</p>
+
+<p>Mr Nicol was much respected for his sound discernment
+in matters of business, as well as for his benevolent disposition.
+Every dispute in the vicinity was submitted
+to his adjudication, and his counsel checked all differences
+in the district. He was regularly consulted as a
+physician, for he had studied medicine at the University.
+From his own medicine chest he dispensed gratuitously
+to the indigent sick; and without fee he vaccinated
+all the children of the neighbourhood who were
+brought to him. After a short illness, he died on the
+5th of November 1819. Of a family of three sons and
+three daughters, the eldest son predeceased him; two
+sons and two daughters still survive. The elder son, who
+bears his father's Christian name, is Professor of Civil
+and Natural History in Marischal College, Aberdeen,
+and is well known as a geologist. Mrs Nicol survived
+her husband till the 19th of March 1845.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[Pg 242]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="BLAW_SAFTLY_YE_BREEZES" id="BLAW_SAFTLY_YE_BREEZES"></a>BLAW SAFTLY, YE BREEZES.</h3>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Blaw saftly, ye breezes, ye streams, smoothly murmur,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ye sweet-scented blossoms, deck every green tree;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'Mong your wild scatter'd flow'rets aft wanders my charmer,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The sweet lovely lass wi' the black rollin' e'e.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For pensive I ponder, and languishin' wander,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Far frae the sweet rosebud on Quair's windin' stream!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Why, Heaven, wring my heart wi' the hard heart o' anguish?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Why torture my bosom 'tween hope and despair?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When absent frae Nancy, I ever maun languish!&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That dear angel smile, shall it charm me nae mair?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Since here life 's a desert, an' pleasure 's a dream,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Bear me swift to those banks which are ever my theme,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where, mild as the mornin' at simmer's returnin',<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Blooms the sweet lovely rosebud on Quair's windin' stream.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="BY_YON_HOARSE_MURMURIN_STREAM" id="BY_YON_HOARSE_MURMURIN_STREAM"></a>BY YON HOARSE MURMURIN' STREAM.</h3>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">By yon hoarse murmurin' stream, 'neath the moon's chilly beam,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sadly musin' I wander, an' the tear fills my e'e;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Recollection, pensive power, brings back the mournfu' hour,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When the laddie gaed awa' that is dear, dear to me.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[Pg 243]</a></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The tender words he said, and the faithfu' vows he made,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When we parted, to my bosom a mournfu' pleasure gie;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An' I lo'e to pass the day where we fondly used to stray,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An' repeat the laddie's name that is dear, dear to me.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Though the flow'rets gem the vales, an' scent the whisperin' gales,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An' the birds fill wi' music the sweetly-bloomin' tree;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Though nature bid rejoice, yet sorrow tunes my voice,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For the laddie 's far awa' that is dear, dear to me!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When the gloamin' brings alang the time o' mirth an' sang,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An' the dance kindles joy in ilka youthfu' e'e,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My neebours aften speir, why fa's the hidden tear?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But they kenna he's awa' that is dear, dear to me.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Oh, for the happy hour, when I shall hae the power,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To the darlin' o' my soul, on wings o' love, to flee!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or that the day wad come, when fortune shall bring home,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The laddie to my arms that is dear, dear to me.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But if&mdash;for much I fear&mdash;that day will ne'er appear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Frae me conceal in darkness the cruel stern decree;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For life wad a' be vain, were I ne'er to meet again,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wi' the laddie far awa' that is dear, dear to me.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[Pg 244]</a></span></div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="HALUCKIT_MEG" id="HALUCKIT_MEG"></a>HALUCKIT MEG.</h3>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Meg, muckin' at Geordie's byre,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wrought as gin her judgment was wrang;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ilk daud o' the scartle strake fire,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While loud as a lavrock she sang.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her Geordie had promised to marry,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An' Meg, a sworn fae to despair,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Not dreamin' the job could miscarry,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Already seem'd mistress an' mair.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"My neebours," she sang, "aften jeer me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An' ca' me daft haluckit Meg,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An' say they expect soon to hear me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I' the kirk, for my fun, get a fleg.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An' now, 'bout my marriage they 'll clatter,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An' Geordie, puir fallow, they ca'<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An auld doited hav'rel,&mdash;nae matter,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He 'll keep me aye brankin an' braw.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"I grant ye, his face is kenspeckle,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That the white o' his e'e is turn'd out,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That his black beard is rough as a heckle,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That his mou' to his lug 's rax'd about;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But they needna let on that he 's crazie,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His pikestaff will ne'er let him fa';<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor that his hair 's white as a daisy,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For fient a hair has he ava'.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"But a weel-plenish'd mailin has Geordie,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An' routh o' gude gowd in his kist,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An' if siller comes at my wordie,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His beauty I never will miss 't.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[Pg 245]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">Daft gowks, wha catch fire like tinder,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Think love-raptures ever will burn?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But wi' poortith, hearts het as a cinder,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Will cauld as an iceshugle turn.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"There 'll just be ae bar to my pleasures,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A bar that 's aft fill'd me wi' fear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He 's sic a hard near-be-gawn miser,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He likes his saul less than his gear.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But though I now flatter his failin',<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An' swear nought wi' gowd can compare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Gude sooth! it shall soon get a scailin',<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His bags sall be mouldie nae mair!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"I dreamt that I rode in a chariot,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A flunkie ahint me in green;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While Geordie cried out he was harriet,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An' the saut tear was blindin' his een.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But though 'gainst my spendin' he swear aye,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I 'll hae frae him what ser's my turn;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Let him slip awa' whan he grows wearie;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shame fa' me, gin lang I wad mourn!"<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But Geordie, while Meg was haranguin',<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Was cloutin' his breeks i' the bauks;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An' whan a' his failin's she brang in,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His strang hazel pikestaff he taks,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Designin' to rax her a lounder,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He chanced on the lather to shift,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An' down frae the bauks, flat 's a flounder,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Flew like a shot starn frae the lift!<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[Pg 246]</a></span></div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="MY_DEAR_LITTLE_LASSIE" id="MY_DEAR_LITTLE_LASSIE"></a>MY DEAR LITTLE LASSIE.</h3>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">My dear little lassie, why, what 's a' the matter?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My heart it gangs pittypat&mdash;winna lie still;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I 've waited, and waited, an' a' to grow better,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet, lassie, believe me, I 'm aye growin' ill!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My head 's turn'd quite dizzy, an' aft, when I 'm speakin',<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I sigh, an' am breathless, and fearfu' to speak;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I gaze aye for something I fain would be seekin',<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet, lassie, I kenna weel what I would seek.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Thy praise, bonnie lassie, I ever could hear of,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And yet, when to ruse ye the neebour lads try&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Though it 's a' true they tell ye&mdash;yet never sae far off<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I could see 'em ilk ane, an' I canna tell why.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When we tedded the hayfield, I raked ilka rig o't,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And never grew weary the lang simmer day;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The rucks that ye wrought at were easiest biggit,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And I fand sweeter scented around ye the hay.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">In har'st, whan the kirn-supper joys mak us cheerie,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'Mang the lave o' the lasses I preed yer sweet mou';<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Dear save us! how queer I felt whan I cam' near ye&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My breast thrill'd in rapture, I couldna tell how.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When we dance at the gloamin', it 's you I aye pitch on;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And gin ye gang by me, how dowie I be!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There 's something, dear lassie, about ye bewitching,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That tells me my happiness centres in thee.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[Pg 247]</a></span></div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="JAMES_MONTGOMERY" id="JAMES_MONTGOMERY"></a>JAMES MONTGOMERY.</h2>
+
+
+<p>James Montgomery, the spiritual character of whose
+writings has gained him the honourable designation of
+the Christian Poet, was born at Irvine, in the county of
+Ayr, on the 4th of November 1771. His father, John
+Montgomery, was a missionary of the Moravian Brethren,
+and in this capacity came to Irvine from Ireland,
+only a few days before the birth of James, his eldest
+son. In his fourth year he returned to Ireland with his
+parents, and received the rudiments of his education
+from the village schoolmaster of Grace Hill, a settlement
+of the Moravian Brethren in the county of Antrim.
+In October 1777, in his seventh year, he was placed by
+his father in the seminary of the Moravian settlement of
+Fulneck, near Leeds; and on the departure of his parents
+to the West Indies, in 1783, he was committed to the care
+of the Brethren, with the view of his being trained for
+their Church. He was not destined to see his parents
+again. His mother died at Barbadoes, in November
+1790, and his father after an interval of eight months.</p>
+
+<p>In consequence of his indolent habits, which were incorrigible,
+young Montgomery was removed from the
+seminary at Fulneck, and placed in the shop of a
+baker at Mirfield, in the vicinity. He was then in his
+sixteenth year; and having already afforded evidence<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[Pg 248]</a></span>
+of a refined taste, both in poetry and music, though
+careless of the ordinary routine of scholastic instruction,
+his new occupation was altogether uncongenial to his
+feelings. He, however, remained about eighteen months
+in the baker's service, but at length made a hasty
+escape from Mirfield, with only three shillings and sixpence
+in his pocket, and seemingly without any scheme
+except that of relieving himself from an irksome employment.
+But an accidental circumstance speedily enabled
+him to obtain an engagement with a shopkeeper in
+Wath, now a station on the railway between London
+and Leeds; and in procuring this employment, he was
+indebted to the recommendation of his former master,
+whose service he had unceremoniously quitted. But this
+new situation had few advantages over the old, and he
+relinquished it in about a year to try his fortune in the
+metropolis. He had previously sent a manuscript volume
+of poetry to Harrison, the bookseller of Paternoster
+Row, who, while declining to publish it, commended
+the author's talents, and so far promoted his views as
+now to receive him into his establishment. But Montgomery's
+aspirations had no reference to serving behind
+a counter; he only accepted a place in the bookseller's
+establishment that he might have an opportunity of
+leisurely feeling his way as an author. His literary
+efforts, however, still proved fruitless. He composed
+essays and tales, and wrote a romance in the manner of
+Fielding, but none of his productions could find a
+publisher. Mortified by his failures, he quitted London
+in eight months, and returned to the shop of his former
+employer at Wath. After the interval of another year,
+he proceeded to Sheffield, to occupy a situation under
+Mr Joseph Gales, a bookseller, and the proprietor of
+the <i>Register</i> newspaper.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[Pg 249]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Montgomery was now in his twenty-first year, and
+fortune at length began, though with many lowering
+intervals, to smile upon his youthful aspirations. Though
+he occupied a subordinate post in Mr Gales' establishment,
+his literary services were accepted for the <i>Register</i>,
+in which he published many of his earlier compositions,
+both in prose and verse. This journal had advocated
+sentiments of an ultra-liberal order, and commanding a
+wide circulation and a powerful influence among the
+operatives in Sheffield, had been narrowly inspected by
+the authorities. At length the proprietor fell into the
+snare of sympathising in the transactions of the French
+revolutionists; he was prosecuted for sedition, and
+deemed himself only safe from compulsory exile by a
+voluntary exit to America. This event took place
+about two years after Montgomery's first connexion with
+Sheffield, and he had now reverted to his former condition
+of abject dependence unless for a fortunate occurrence.
+This was no less than his being appointed joint-proprietor
+and editor of the newspaper by a wealthy individual,
+who, noticing the abilities of the young shopman,
+purchased the copyright with the view of placing
+the management entirely in his hands.</p>
+
+<p>The first number of the newspaper under the poet's
+care, the name being changed to that of <i>The Sheffield
+Iris</i>, appeared in July 1794; and though the principles
+of the journal were moderate and conciliatory in comparison
+with the democratic sentiments espoused by the
+former publisher, the jealous eye of the authorities rested
+on its new conductor. He did not escape their vigilance;
+for the simple offence of printing for a ballad-vender
+some verses of a song celebrating the fall of the
+Bastile, he was libelled as "a wicked, malicious, seditious,
+and evil-disposed person;" and being tried before<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[Pg 250]</a></span>
+the Doncaster Quarter Sessions, in January 1795, was sentenced
+to three months' imprisonment in the Castle of
+York. He was condemned to a second imprisonment of
+six months in the autumn of the same year, for inserting
+in his paper an account of a riot in the place, in which he
+was considered to have cast aspersions on a colonel of
+volunteers. The calm mind of the poet did not sink
+under these persecutions, and some of his best lyrics
+were composed during the period of his latter confinement.
+During his first detention he wrote a series of
+interesting essays for his newspaper. His "Prison
+Amusements," a series of beautiful pieces, appeared in
+1797. In 1805, he published his poem, "The Ocean;"
+in 1806, "The Wanderer in Switzerland;" in 1808,
+"The West Indies;" and in 1812, "The World before
+the Flood." In 1819 he published "Greenland, a
+Poem, in Five Cantos;" and in 1825 appeared "The
+Pelican Island, and other Poems." Of all those productions,
+"The Wanderer in Switzerland" attained the
+widest circulation; and, notwithstanding an unfavourable
+and injudicious criticism in the <i>Edinburgh Review</i>,
+at once procured an honourable place for the author
+among his contemporaries. He became sole proprietor
+of the <i>Iris</i> in one year after his being connected with it,
+and he continued to conduct this paper till September
+1825, when he retired from public duty. He subsequently
+contributed articles for different periodicals;
+but he chiefly devoted himself to the moral and religious
+improvement of his fellow-townsmen. A pension of
+&pound;150 on the civil list was conferred upon him as an acknowledgment
+of his services in behalf of literature
+and of philanthropy; a well-merited public boon which
+for many years he was spared to enjoy. He died at his
+residence, The Mount, Sheffield, on the 30th of April<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[Pg 251]</a></span>
+1854, in the eighty-second year of his age. He bequeathed
+handsome legacies to various public charities.
+His Poetical Works, in a collected form, were published
+in 1850 by the Messrs Longman, in one octavo volume;
+and in 1853 he gave to the world his last work, being
+"Original Hymns, for Public, Private, and Social Devotion."
+Copious memoirs of his life are now in the
+course of publication.</p>
+
+<p>As a poet, Montgomery is conspicuous for the smoothness
+of his versification, and for the fervent piety pervading
+all his compositions. As a man, he was gentle
+and conciliatory, and was remarkable as a generous
+promoter of benevolent institutions. The general tendency
+of his poems was thus indicated by himself, in the
+course of an address which he made at a public dinner,
+given him at Sheffield, in November 1825, immediately
+after the toast of his health being proposed by the chairman,
+Lord Viscount Milton, now Earl Fitzwilliam:&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>"I sang of war&mdash;but it was the war of freedom, in which death
+was preferred to chains. I sang the abolition of the slave trade,
+that most glorious decree of the British Legislature at any period
+since the Revolution, by the first Parliament in which you, my
+Lord, sat as the representative of Yorkshire. Oh, how should I
+rejoice to sing the abolition of slavery itself by some Parliament
+of which your Lordship shall yet be a member! This greater act
+of righteous legislation is surely not too remote to be expected
+even in our own day. Renouncing the slave trade was only
+'ceasing to do evil;' extinguishing slavery will be 'learning to
+do well.' Again, I sang of love&mdash;the love of country, the love of
+my own country; for,</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">'Next to heaven above,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Land of my fathers! thee I love;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And, rail thy slanderers as they will,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With all thy faults I love thee still.'<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>I sang, likewise, the love of home&mdash;its charities, endearments
+and relationships&mdash;all that makes 'Home sweet Home,' the recol<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[Pg 252]</a></span>lection
+of which, when the air of that name was just now played
+from yonder gallery, warmed every heart throughout this room
+into quicker pulsations. I sang the love which man ought to bear
+towards his brother, of every kindred, and country, and clime
+upon earth. I sang the love of virtue, which elevates man to his
+true standard under heaven. I sang, too, the love of God, who <i>is</i>
+love. Nor did I sing in vain. I found readers and listeners,
+especially among the young, the fair, and the devout; and as
+youth, beauty, and piety will not soon cease out of the land, I
+may expect to be remembered through another generation at
+least, if I leave anything behind me worthy of remembrance.
+I may add that, from every part of the British empire, from every
+quarter of the world where our language is spoken&mdash;from America,
+the East and West Indies, from New Holland, and the South Sea
+Islands themselves&mdash;I have received testimonies of approbation
+from all ranks and degrees of readers, hailing what I had done, and
+cheering me forward. I allude not to criticisms and eulogiums from
+the press, but to voluntary communications from unknown correspondents,
+coming to me like voices out of darkness, and giving
+intimation of that which the ear of a poet is always hearkening
+onward to catch&mdash;the voice of posterity."</p></div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[Pg 253]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="FRIENDSHIP_LOVE_AND_TRUTH" id="FRIENDSHIP_LOVE_AND_TRUTH"></a>"FRIENDSHIP, LOVE, AND TRUTH."</h3>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When "Friendship, Love, and Truth" abound<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Among a band of brothers,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The cup of joy goes gaily round,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Each shares the bliss of others.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sweet roses grace the thorny way<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Along this vale of sorrow;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The flowers that shed their leaves to-day<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shall bloom again to-morrow.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How grand in age, how fair in youth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Are holy "Friendship, Love, and Truth!"<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">On halcyon wings our moments pass,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Life's cruel cares beguiling;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Old Time lays down his scythe and glass,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In gay good-humour smiling:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With ermine beard and forelock gray,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His reverend part adorning,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He looks like Winter turn'd to May,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Night soften'd into Morning.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How grand in age, how fair in youth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Are holy "Friendship, Love, and Truth!"<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">From these delightful fountains flow<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ambrosial rills of pleasure;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Can man desire, can Heaven bestow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A more resplendent treasure?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Adorn'd with gems so richly bright,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Will form a constellation,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where every star, with modest light,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shall gild its proper station.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How grand in age, how fair in youth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Are holy "Friendship, Love, and Truth!"<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[Pg 254]</a></span></div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="THE_SWISS_COWHERDS_SONG_IN_A" id="THE_SWISS_COWHERDS_SONG_IN_A"></a>THE SWISS COWHERD'S SONG IN A
+FOREIGN LAND.</h3>
+
+<p class='center'>IMITATED FROM THE FRENCH.</p>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Oh, when shall I visit the land of my birth&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The loveliest land on the face of the earth?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When shall I those scenes of affection explore,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Our forests, our fountains,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Our hamlets, our mountains,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With pride of our mountains, the maid I adore?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh, when shall I dance on the daisy-white mead,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In the shade of an elm, to the sound of a reed?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When shall I return to that lowly retreat,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where all my fond objects of tenderness meet,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The lambs and the heifers, that follow my call,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">My father, my mother,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">My sister, my brother,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And dear Isabella, the joy of them all?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh, when shall I visit the land of my birth?&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'Tis the loveliest land on the face of the earth.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="GERMAN_WAR-SONG69" id="GERMAN_WAR-SONG69"></a>GERMAN WAR-SONG.<a name="FNanchor_69_69" id="FNanchor_69_69"></a><a href="#Footnote_69_69" class="fnanchor">[69]</a></h3>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Heaven speed the righteous sword,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And freedom be the word;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Come, brethren, hand in hand,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Fight for your fatherland.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[Pg 255]</a></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Germania from afar<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Invokes her sons to war;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Awake! put forth your powers,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And victory must be ours.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">On to the combat, on!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Go where your sires have gone;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Their might unspent remains,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Their pulse is in our veins.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">On to the battle, on!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Rest will be sweet anon;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The slave may yield, may fly,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We conquer, or we die!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">O Liberty! thy form<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shines through the battle-storm.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Away with fear, away!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Let justice win the day.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="VIA_CRUCIS_VIA_LUCIS" id="VIA_CRUCIS_VIA_LUCIS"></a>VIA CRUCIS, VIA LUCIS.</h3>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Night turns to day:&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">When sullen darkness lowers,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">And heaven and earth are hid from sight,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Cheer up, cheer up;<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Ere long the opening flowers,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">With dewy eyes, shall shine in light.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[Pg 256]</a></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Storms die in calms:&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">When over land and ocean<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Roll the loud chariots of the wind,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Cheer up, cheer up;<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">The voice of wild commotion,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Proclaims tranquillity behind.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Winter wakes spring:&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">When icy blasts are blowing<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">O'er frozen lakes, through naked trees,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Cheer up, cheer up;<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">All beautiful and glowing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">May floats in fragrance on the breeze.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">War ends in peace:&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Though dread artillery rattle,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">And ghostly corses load the ground,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Cheer up, cheer up;<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Where groan'd the field of battle,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">The song, the dance, the feast, go round.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Toil brings repose:&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">With noontide fervours beating,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">When droop thy temples o'er thy breast,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Cheer up, cheer up;<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Gray twilight, cool and fleeting,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Wafts on its wing the hour of rest.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Death springs to life:&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Though brief and sad thy story,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Thy years all spent in care and gloom,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Look up, look up;<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Eternity and glory<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Dawn through the portals of the tomb.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[Pg 257]</a></span></div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="VERSES_TO_A_ROBIN_RED-BREAST" id="VERSES_TO_A_ROBIN_RED-BREAST"></a>VERSES TO A ROBIN RED-BREAST,<br />
+<span style="font-size: 75%;">WHICH VISITS THE WINDOW OF MY PRISON EVERY DAY.</span></h3>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Welcome, pretty little stranger!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Welcome to my lone retreat!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Here, secure from every danger,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hop about, and chirp, and eat:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Robin! how I envy thee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Happy child of Liberty!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Now, though tyrant Winter, howling,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shakes the world with tempests round,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Heaven above with vapours scowling,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Frost imprisons all the ground:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Robin! what are these to thee?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thou art bless'd with liberty.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Though yon fair majestic river<a name="FNanchor_70_70" id="FNanchor_70_70"></a><a href="#Footnote_70_70" class="fnanchor">[70]</a><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Mourns in solid icy chains,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Though yon flocks and cattle shiver<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On the desolated plains:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Robin! thou art gay and free,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Happy in thy liberty.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Hunger never shall disturb thee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While my rates one crumb afford;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Colds nor cramps shall ne'er oppress thee;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Come and share my humble board:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Robin! come and live with me&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Live, yet still at liberty.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[Pg 258]</a></span></div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Soon shall Spring, in smiles and blushes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Steal upon the blooming year;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then, amid the enamour'd bushes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thy sweet song shall warble clear:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then shall I, too, join with thee&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Swell the hymn of Liberty.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Should some rough, unfeeling dobbin,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In this iron-hearted age,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Seize thee on thy nest, my Robin,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And confine thee in a cage,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then, poor prisoner! think of me&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Think, and sigh for liberty.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="SLAVERY_THAT_WAS" id="SLAVERY_THAT_WAS"></a>SLAVERY THAT WAS.</h3>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Ages, ages have departed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Since the first dark vessel bore<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Afric's children, broken-hearted,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To the Caribb&eacute;an shore;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She, like Rachel,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Weeping, for they were no more.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Millions, millions, have been slaughter'd,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In the fight and on the deep;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Millions, millions more have water'd,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With such tears as captives weep,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Fields of travail,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where their bones till doomsday sleep.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[Pg 259]</a></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Mercy, Mercy, vainly pleading,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Rent her garments, smote her breast,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Till a voice from Heaven proceeding,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Gladden'd all the gloomy west,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"Come, ye weary,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Come, and I will give you rest!"<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Tidings, tidings of salvation!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Britons rose with one accord,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Purged the plague-spot from our nation,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Negroes to their rights restored;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Slaves no longer,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Freemen,&mdash;freemen</i> of the <i>Lord</i>.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[Pg 260]</a></span></div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="ANDREW_SCOTT" id="ANDREW_SCOTT"></a>ANDREW SCOTT.</h2>
+
+
+<p>Andrew Scott, known as the author of the popular
+ballad of "Symon and Janet," has claims to a wider
+reputation. He was born of humble parentage, in the
+parish of Bowden, Roxburghshire, in the year 1757.
+He was early employed as a cowherd; and he has recorded,
+in a sketch of his own life prefixed to one of
+his volumes, that he began to compose verses on the
+hill-sides in his twelfth year. He ascribes this juvenile
+predilection to the perusal of Ramsay's "Gentle Shepherd,"
+a pamphlet copy of which he had purchased with
+some spare halfpence. Towards the close of the American
+war, he joined the army as a recruit, and soon
+thereafter followed his regiment across the Atlantic.
+His rhyming propensities continued; and he occupied
+his leisure hours in composing verses, which he read for
+the amusement of his comrades. At the conclusion of
+the American campaigns, he returned with the army to
+Britain; and afterwards procuring his discharge, he
+made a settlement in his native parish. For the period
+of seventeen years, according to his own narrative, he
+abandoned the cultivation of poetry, assiduously applying
+himself to manual labour for the support of his
+family. An intelligent acquaintance, who had procured<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[Pg 261]</a></span>
+copies of some of his verses, now recommended him to
+attempt a publication&mdash;a counsel which induced him to
+print a small volume by subscription. This appeared
+in 1805, and was reprinted, with several additions, in
+1808. In 1811 he published "Poems, chiefly in the
+Scottish Dialect," Kelso, 18mo; another duodecimo
+volume of poems, at Jedburgh, in 1821; and his last
+work, entitled "Poems on Various Subjects," at Edinburgh,
+in 1826. This last volume was inscribed, with
+permission, to the Duchess of Roxburghe.</p>
+
+<p>The poet's social condition at Bowden was little
+favourable to the composition of poetry. Situated on
+the south side of the Eildon hills, the parish is entirely
+separated from the busy world, and the inhabitants were
+formerly proverbial for their rustic simplicity and ignorance.
+The encouragement desiderated at home, the poet,
+however, experienced elsewhere. He visited Melrose, at
+the easy distance of two miles, on the day of the weekly
+market, and there met with friends and patrons from
+different parts of the district. The late Duke of Roxburghe,
+Sir Walter Scott, Mr Baillie of Jerviswoode, Mr
+John Gibson Lockhart, and Mr G. P. R. James, the
+novelist, who sometimes resided in the neighbourhood,
+and other persons of rank or literary eminence, extended
+towards him countenance and assistance.</p>
+
+<p>Scott shared the indigent lot of poets. He remained
+in the condition of an agricultural labourer, and for
+many years held the office of beadle, or church-officer,
+of the parish. He died on the 22d of May 1839, in the
+eighty-second year of his age; and his remains were
+interred in the churchyard of Bowden, where his name
+is inscribed on a gravestone which he had erected to
+the memory of his wife. His eldest son holds the office
+of schoolmaster of that parish.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[Pg 262]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>The personal appearance of the bard appears to have
+been prepossessing: his countenance wore a highly intellectual
+aspect. Subsequent to the publication of the
+first volume of his poems, he was requested to sit for his
+portrait by the late Mr George Watson, the well-known
+portrait-painter; and who was so well satisfied with
+the excellence of his subject, that he exhibited the
+portrait for a lengthened period in his studio. It is
+now in the possession of the author's son at Bowden,
+and has been pronounced a masterpiece of art. A badly
+executed engraving from it is prefixed to Scott's last
+two volumes. In manner, the poet was modest and
+unassuming, and his utterance was slow and defective.
+The songs selected for this work may be regarded as
+the most favourable specimens of his muse.<a name="FNanchor_71_71" id="FNanchor_71_71"></a><a href="#Footnote_71_71" class="fnanchor">[71]</a><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[Pg 263]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="RURAL_CONTENT_OR_THE_MUIRLAND" id="RURAL_CONTENT_OR_THE_MUIRLAND"></a>RURAL CONTENT; OR, THE MUIRLAND
+FARMER.</h3>
+
+<p class='center'><span class="smcap">Air</span>&mdash;<i>"The Rock and the Wee Pickle Tow."</i></p>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I 'm now a guid farmer, I 've acres o' land,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And my heart aye loups light when I 'm viewing o't,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And I hae servants at my command,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And twa dainty cowts for the plowin' o't.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My farm is a snug ane, lies high on a muir,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The muircocks and plivers aft skirl at my door,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And whan the sky low'rs I 'm aye sure o' a show'r,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To moisten my land for the plowin' o't.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Leeze me on the mailin that 's fa'n to my share,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It taks sax muckle bowes for the sawin' o't;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I 've sax braid acres for pasture, and mair,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And a dainty bit bog for the mawin' o't.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A spence and a kitchen my mansionhouse gies,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I 've a cantie wee wifie to daut whan I please,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Twa bairnies, twa callans, that skelp o'er the leas,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And they 'll soon can assist at the plowin' o't.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">My biggin' stands sweet on this south slopin' hill,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the sun shines sae bonnily beamin' on 't,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And past my door trots a clear prattlin' rill,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Frae the loch, whare the wild-ducks are swimmin' o't;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And on its green banks, on the gay simmer days,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My wifie trips barefoot, a-bleachin' her claes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And on the dear creature wi' rapture I gaze,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While I whistle and sing at the plowin' o't.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[Pg 264]</a></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">To rank amang farmers I hae muckle pride,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But I mauna speak high when I 'm tellin' o't,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How brawlie I strut on my shelty to ride,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wi' a sample to shew for the sellin' o't.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In blue worset boots that my auld mither span,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I 've aft been fu' vanty sin' I was a man,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But now they 're flung by, and I 've bought cordivan,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And my wifie ne'er grudged me a shillin' o't.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Sae now, whan to kirk or to market I gae&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My weelfare what need I be hiddin' o't?&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In braw leather boots shinin' black as the slae,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I dink me to try the ridin' o't.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Last towmond I sell'd off four bowes o' guid bear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And thankfu' I was, for the victual was dear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And I came hame wi' spurs on my heels shinin' clear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I had sic good luck at the sellin' o't.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Now hairst time is o'er, and a fig for the laird,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My rent 's now secure for the toilin' o't;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My fields are a' bare, and my crap 's in the yard,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And I 'm nae mair in doubts o' the spoilin' o't.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now welcome gude weather, or wind, or come weet,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or bauld ragin' winter, wi' hail, snaw, or sleet,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nae mair can he draigle my crap 'mang his feet,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor wraik his mischief, and be spoilin' o't.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And on the douf days, whan loud hurricanes blaw,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Fu' snug i' the spence I 'll be viewin' o't,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And jink the rude blast in my rush-theekit ha',<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whan fields are seal'd up from the plowin' o't.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My bonny wee wifie, the bairnies, and me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The peat-stack, and turf-stack our Ph&#339;bus shall be,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Till day close the scoul o' its angry ee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And we 'll rest in gude hopes o' the plowin' o't.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[Pg 265]</a></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And whan the year smiles, and the lavrocks sing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My man Jock and me shall be doin' o't;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He 'll thrash, and I 'll toil on the fields in the spring,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And turn up the soil at the plowin' o't.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And whan the wee flow'rets begin then to blaw,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The lavrock, the peasweep, and skirlin' pickmaw,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shall hiss the bleak winter to Lapland awa,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then we 'll ply the blythe hours at the sawin' o't.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And whan the birds sing on the sweet simmer morn,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My new crap I 'll keek at the growin' o't;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whan hares niffer love 'mang the green-bairdit corn,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And dew draps the tender blade shewin' o't,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On my brick o' fallow my labours I 'll ply,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And view on their pasture my twa bonny kye,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Till hairst-time again circle round us wi' joy,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wi' the fruits o' the sawin' and plowin' o't.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Nor need I to envy our braw gentle focks,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wha fash na their thumbs wi' the sawing o't,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor e'er slip their fine silken hands in the pocks,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor foul their black shoon wi' the plowin' o't:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For, pleased wi' the little that fortune has lent,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The seasons row round us in rural content;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We 've aye milk and meal, and our laird gets his rent,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And I whistle and sing at the plowin' o't.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="SYMON_AND_JANET" id="SYMON_AND_JANET"></a>SYMON AND JANET.</h3>
+
+<p class='center'><span class="smcap">Air</span>&mdash;<i>"Fy, let us a' to the Bridal."</i></p>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Surrounded wi' bent and wi' heather,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whare muircocks and plivers are rife,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For mony lang towmond thegither,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There lived an auld man and his wife.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[Pg 266]</a></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">About the affairs o' the nation,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The twasome they seldom were mute;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Bonaparte, the French, and invasion,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Did saur in their wizens like soot.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">In winter, when deep are the gutters,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And night's gloomy canopy spread,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Auld Symon sat luntin' his cuttie,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And lowsin' his buttons for bed.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Auld Janet, his wife, out a-gazin',<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To lock in the door was her care;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She seein' our signals a-blazin',<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Came runnin' in, rivin' her hair.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"O Symon, the Frenchmen are landit!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Gae look man, and slip on your shoon;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Our signals I see them extendit,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Like red risin' blaze o' the moon!"<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"What plague, the French landit!" quo' Symon,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And clash gaed his pipe to the wa',<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"Faith, then there's be loadin' and primin',"<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Quo' he, "if they 're landit ava.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Our youngest son 's in the militia,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Our eldest grandson 's volunteer:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O' the French to be fu' o' the flesh o',<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I too in the ranks shall appear."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">His waistcoat pouch fill'd he wi' pouther,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And bang'd down his rusty auld gun;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His bullets he put in the other,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That he for the purpose had run.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[Pg 267]</a></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Then humpled he out in a hurry,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While Janet his courage bewails,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And cried out, "Dear Symon, be wary!"<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And teughly she hang by his tails.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Let be wi' your kindness," quo' Symon,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"Nor vex me wi' tears and your cares,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For now to be ruled by a woman,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nae laurels shall crown my gray hairs."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Quo' Janet, "Oh, keep frae the riot!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Last night, man, I dreamt ye was dead;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">This aught days I tentit a pyot<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sit chatt'rin' upo' the house-head.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"And yesterday, workin' my stockin',<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And you wi' the sheep on the hill,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A muckle black corbie sat croakin';<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I kend it foreboded some ill."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Hout, cheer up, dear Janet, be hearty,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For ere the next sun may gae down,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wha kens but I 'll shoot Bonaparte,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And end my auld days in renown?"<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Then hear me," quo' Janet, "I pray thee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I 'll tend thee, love, living or dead,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And if thou should fa' I 'll die wi' thee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or tie up thy wounds if thou bleed."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Syne aff in a fury he stumpled,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wi' bullets, and pouther, and gun;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">At 's curpin auld Janet too humpled,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Awa to the next neighb'rin' town.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[Pg 268]</a></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">There footmen and yeomen paradin',<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To scour aff in dirdum were seen,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Auld wives and young lasses a-sheddin'<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The briny saut tears frae their een.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Then aff wi' his bannet gat Symon,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And to the commander he gaes;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Quo' he, "Sir, I mean to gae wi' ye, man,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And help ye to lounder our faes.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"I 'm auld, yet I 'm teugh as the wire,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sae we 'll at the rogues have a dash,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And, fegs, if my gun winna fire,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I 'll turn her butt-end, and I 'll thrash."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Well spoken, my hearty old hero,"<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The captain did smiling reply,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But begg'd he wad stay till to-morrow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Till daylight should glent in the sky.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Whatreck, a' the stour cam to naething;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sae Symon, and Janet his dame,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hale skart frae the wars, without skaithing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Gaed bannin' the French again hame.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="COQUET_WATER" id="COQUET_WATER"></a>COQUET WATER.</h3>
+
+<p class='center'><span class="smcap">Air</span>&mdash;<i>"Braw Lads of Gala Water."</i></p>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Whan winter winds forget to blaw,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An' vernal suns revive pale nature,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A shepherd lad by chance I saw,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Feeding his flocks by Coquet water.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[Pg 269]</a></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Saft, saft he sung, in melting lays,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His Mary's charms an' matchless feature,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While echoes answer'd frae the braes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That skirt the banks of Coquet water.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Oh, were that bonnie lassie mine,"<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Quoth he, "in love's saft wiles I'd daut her;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An' deem mysel' as happy syne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As landit laird on Coquet water.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Let wealthy rakes for pleasure roam,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In foreign lands their fortune fritter;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But love's pure joys be mine at home,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wi' my dear lass on Coquet water.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Gie fine focks wealth, yet what care I,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Gie me her smiles whom I lo'e better;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Blest wi' her love an' life's calm joy,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Tending my flocks by Coquet water.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Flow fair an' clear, thou bonnie stream,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For on thy banks aft hae I met her;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Fair may the bonnie wild-flowers gleam,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That busk the banks of Coquet water."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="THE_YOUNG_MAIDS_WISH_FOR_PEACE" id="THE_YOUNG_MAIDS_WISH_FOR_PEACE"></a>THE YOUNG MAID'S WISH FOR PEACE.</h3>
+
+<p class='center'><span class="smcap">Air</span>&mdash;<i>"Far frae Hame," &amp;c.</i></p>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Fain wad I, fain wad I hae the bloody wars to cease,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An' the nations restored again to unity an' peace;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then mony a bonnie laddie, that 's now far owre the sea,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wad return to his lassie, an' his ain countrie.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[Pg 270]</a></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">My lad was call'd awa for to cross the stormy main,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An' to face the battle's bray in the cause of injured Spain;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But in my love's departure hard fate has injured me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That has reft him frae my arms, an' his ain countrie.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When he bade me adieu, oh! my heart was like to break,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An' the parting tear dropp'd down for my dear laddie's sake;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Kind Heavens protect my Willie, wherever he be,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An' restore him to my arms, an' his ain countrie.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Yes, may the fates defend him upon that hostile shore,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Amid the rage of battle, where thund'ring cannons roar;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In the sad hour of danger, when deadly bullets flee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Far frae the peacefu' plains of his ain countrie.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Wae 's me, that vice had proven the source of blood an' war,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An' sawn amang the nations the seeds of feud an' jar:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But it was cruel Cain, an' his grim posterity,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">First began the bloody wark in their ain countrie.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">An' oh! what widows weep, an' helpless orphans cry!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On a far foreign shore now, the dear, dear ashes lie,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whose life-blood stain'd the gowans of some far foreign lea,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Far frae their kith an' kin, an' their ain countrie.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Hail the day, speed the day, then, when a' the wars are done!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An' may ilk British laddie return wi' laurels won;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On my dear Willie's brows may they flourish bonnily,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An' be wi' the myrtle twined in his ain countrie.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[Pg 271]</a></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But I hope the time is near, when sweet peace her olive wand<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To lay the fiend of war shall soon stretch o'er every land,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When swords turn'd into ploughshares and pruning-hooks shall be,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An' the nations a' live happy in their ain countrie.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="THE_FIDDLERS_WIDOW" id="THE_FIDDLERS_WIDOW"></a>THE FIDDLER'S WIDOW.</h3>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">There was a musician wha play'd a good stick,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He had a sweet wife an' a fiddle,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An' in his profession he had right good luck<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">At bridals his elbow to diddle.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But ah! the poor fiddler soon chanc&eacute;d to die,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As a' men to dust must return;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An' the poor widow cried, wi' the tear in her e'e,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That as lang as she lived she wad mourn.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Alane by the hearth she disconsolate sat,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Lamenting the day that she saw,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An' aye as she look'd on the fiddle she grat,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That silent now hang on the wa'.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Fair shane the red rose on the young widow's cheek,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sae newly weel washen wi' tears,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As in came a younker some comfort to speak,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wha whisper'd fond love in her ears.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Dear lassie," he cried, "I am smit wi' your charms,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Consent but to marry me now,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I 'm as good as ever laid hair upon thairms,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An' I 'll cheer baith the fiddle an' you."<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[Pg 272]</a></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The young widow blush'd, but sweet smiling she said,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"Dear sir, to dissemble I hate,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If we twa thegither are doom'd to be wed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Folks needna contend against fate."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">He took down the fiddle as dowie it hung,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An' put a' the thairms in tune,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The young widow dighted her cheeks an' she sung,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For her heart lap her sorrows aboon.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Now sound sleep the dead in his cauld bed o' clay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For death still the dearest maun sever;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For now he 's forgot, an' his widow's fu' gay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An' his fiddle 's as merry as ever.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="LAMENT_FOR_THE_DEATH_OF_AN_IRISH_CHIEF" id="LAMENT_FOR_THE_DEATH_OF_AN_IRISH_CHIEF"></a>LAMENT FOR THE DEATH OF AN IRISH CHIEF.</h3>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">He 's no more on the green hill, he has left the wide forest,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whom, sad by the lone rill, thou, loved dame, deplorest:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We saw in his dim eye the beam of life quiver,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Its bright orb to light again no more for ever.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Loud twang'd thy bow, mighty youth, in the foray,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Dread gleam'd thy brand in the proud field of glory;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And when heroes sat round in the Psalter of Tara,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His counsel was sage as was fatal his arrow.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When in war's loud commotion the hostile Dane landed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or seen on the ocean with white sail expanded,<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[Pg 273]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">Like thee, swoll'n stream, down our steep vale that roarest,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Fierce was the chieftain that harass'd them sorest.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Proud stem of our ancient line, nipt while in budding,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Like sweet flowers' too early gem spring-fields bestudding,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Our noble pine 's fall'n, that waved on our mountain,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Our mighty rock dash'd from the brink of our fountain.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Our lady is lonely, our halls are deserted&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The mighty is fallen, our hope is departed&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Loud wail for the fate from our clan that did sever,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whom we shall behold again no more for ever.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="THE_DEPARTURE_OF_SUMMER" id="THE_DEPARTURE_OF_SUMMER"></a>THE DEPARTURE OF SUMMER.</h3>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Adieu, lovely Summer! I see thee declining,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I sigh, for thy exit is near;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thy once glowing beauties by Autumn are pining,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who now presses hard on thy rear.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The late blowing flowers now thy pale cheek adorning,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Droop sick as they nod on the lea;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The groves, too, are silent, no minstrel of morning<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shrill warbles his song from the tree.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Aurora peeps silent, and sighs a lorn widow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No warbler to lend her a lay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No more the shrill lark quits the dew-spangled meadow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As wont for to welcome the day.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[Pg 274]</a></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Sage Autumn sits sad now on hill, dale, and valley,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Each landscape how pensive its mien!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They languish, they languish! I see them fade daily,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And losing their liv'ry of green.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">O Virtue, come waft me on thy silken pinions,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To where purer streamlets still flow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where summer, unceasing, pervades thy dominions,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor stormy bleak wint'ry winds blow.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[Pg 275]</a></span></div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="SIR_WALTER_SCOTT_BART" id="SIR_WALTER_SCOTT_BART"></a>SIR WALTER SCOTT, BART.</h2>
+
+
+<p>Sir Walter Scott, the most chivalrous of Scottish
+poets, and the most illustrious of British novelists, was
+born in Edinburgh, on the 15th of August 1771. His
+father, Walter Scott, Writer to the Signet, was descended
+from a younger branch of the baronial house of
+the Scotts of Harden, of which Lord Polwarth is the
+present representative. On his mother's side his progenitors
+were likewise highly respectable: his maternal
+grandfather, Dr John Rutherford, was Professor of the
+Practice of Physic in the University of Edinburgh, and
+his mother's brother, Dr Daniel Rutherford, an eminent
+chemist, afterwards occupied the chair of Botany. His
+mother was a person of a vigorous and cultivated mind.
+Of a family of twelve children, born to his parents, six
+of whom survived infancy, Walter only evinced the
+possession of the uncommon attribute of genius. He
+was born a healthy child, but soon after became exposed
+to serious peril by being some time tended by a consumptive
+nurse. When scarcely two years old he was
+seized with an illness which deprived him of the proper
+use of his right limb, a loss which continued during his
+life. With the view of retrieving his strength, he was
+sent to reside with his paternal grandfather, Robert<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[Pg 276]</a></span>
+Scott, who rented the farm of Sandyknowe, in the vicinity
+of Smailholm Tower, in Roxburghshire. Shortly
+after his arrival at Sandyknowe, he narrowly escaped
+destruction through the frantic desperation of a maniac
+attendant; but he had afterwards to congratulate himself
+on being enabled to form an early acquaintance with
+rural scenes. No advantage accruing to his lameness,
+he was, in his fourth year, removed to Bath, where he
+remained twelve months, without experiencing benefit
+from the mineral waters. During the three following
+years he chiefly resided at Sandyknowe. In his eighth
+year he returned to Edinburgh, with his mind largely
+stored with border legends, chiefly derived from the recitations
+of his grandmother, a person of a romantic inclination
+and sprightly intelligence. At this period,
+Pope's translation of Homer, and the more amusing songs
+in Ramsay's "Evergreen," were his favourite studies;
+and he took delight in reading aloud, with suitable
+emphasis, the more striking passages, or verses, to his
+mother, who sought every incentive to stimulate his
+native propensity. In 1778 he was sent to the High
+School, where he possessed the advantage of instruction
+under Mr Luke Fraser, an able scholar, and Dr Adam,
+the distinguished rector. His progress in scholarship
+was not equal to his talents; he was already a devotee
+to romance, and experienced greater gratification in retiring
+with a friend to some quiet spot in the country,
+to relate or to listen to a fictitious tale, than in giving
+his principal attention to the prescribed tasks of the
+schoolroom. As he became older, the love of miscellaneous
+literature, especially the works of the great masters
+of fiction, amounted to a passion; and as his memory
+was singularly tenacious, he accumulated a great extent
+and variety of miscellaneous information.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[Pg 277]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>On the completion of his attendance at the High
+School, he was sent to reside with some relations at
+Kelso; and in this interesting locality his growing attachment
+to the national minstrelsy and legendary lore
+received a fresh impulse. On his return to Edinburgh
+he entered the University, in which he matriculated as a
+student of Latin and Greek, in October 1793. His progress
+was not more marked than it had been at the
+High School, insomuch that Mr Dalziel, the professor
+of Greek, was induced to give public expression as to
+his hopeless incapacity. The professor fortunately survived
+to make ample compensation for the rashness of
+his prediction.</p>
+
+<p>The juvenile inclinations of the future poet were entirely
+directed to a military life; but his continued
+lameness interposed an insuperable difficulty, and was
+a source of deep mortification. He was at length induced
+to adopt a profession suitable to his physical
+capabilities, entering into indentures with his father in
+his fourteenth year. To his confinement at the desk,
+sufficiently irksome to a youth of his aspirations, he was
+chiefly reconciled by the consideration that his fees as a
+clerk enabled him to purchase books.</p>
+
+<p>Rapid growth in a constitution which continued delicate
+till he had attained his fifteenth year, led to his
+bursting a blood-vessel in the second year of his apprenticeship.
+While precluded from active duty, being
+closely confined to bed, and not allowed to exert himself
+by speaking, he was still allowed to read; a privilege
+which accelerated his acquaintance with general
+literature. To complete his recovery, he was recommended
+exercise on horseback; and in obeying the instructions
+of his physician, he gratified his own peculiar
+tastes by making himself generally familiar with locali<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[Pg 278]</a></span>ties
+and scenes famous in Scottish story. On the restoration
+of his health, he at length became seriously engaged
+in the study of law for several continuous years,
+and, after the requisite examinations, was admitted as an
+advocate, on the 10th of July 1792, when on the point
+of attaining his twenty-first year.</p>
+
+<p>In his twelfth year, Scott had composed some verses
+for his preceptor and early friend Dr Adam, which
+afforded promise of his future excellence. But he seems
+not to have extensively indulged, in early life, in the
+composition of poetry, while his juvenile productions in
+prose wore a stiff formality. On being called to the
+bar, he at first carefully refrained, according to his own
+statement, from claiming the honour of authorship, lest
+his brethren or the public should suppose that his habits
+were unsuitable to a due attention to the duties of his
+profession. He was relieved of dependence on professional
+employment by espousing, in December 1797,
+Miss Carpenter, a young French gentlewoman, possessed
+of a considerable annuity, whose acquaintance he had
+formed at Gilsland, a watering-place in Cumberland.
+In 1800 he was appointed Sheriff of Selkirkshire, with
+a salary of &pound;300 a year. While he continued in his
+father's office he had made himself familiar with the
+French and Italian languages, and had read many of
+their more celebrated authors, especially the writings of
+Tasso and Ariosto. Some years after he came to the
+bar, he was induced to acquaint himself with the ballad
+poetry of Germany, then in vogue, through the translations
+of Mr Lewis, whose friendship he had recently
+acquired. In 1796 he made his first adventure as an
+author by publishing translations of "Lenor&eacute;," and
+"The Wild Huntsman" of B&uuml;rger. The attempt proved
+unsuccessful; but, undismayed, he again essayed his skill<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[Pg 279]</a></span>
+in translation by publishing, in 1799, an English version
+of Go&euml;the's "Goetz of Berlichingen." His success as an
+author was, however, destined to rest on original performances,
+illustrative of the chivalry of his own land.</p>
+
+<p>Towards the recovery and publication of the ancient
+ballads and songs of the Scottish borders, which had
+only been preserved by the recitations of the peasantry,
+Scott had early formed important intentions. The independence
+of his circumstances now enabled him to
+execute his long-cherished scheme. He made periodical
+excursions into Liddesdale, a wild pastoral district on
+the Scottish border, anciently peopled by the noted
+Elliots and Armstrongs, in quest of old ballads and traditions;
+and the fruits of his research, along with much
+curious information, partly communicated to him by
+intelligent correspondents, he gave to the world, in
+1802, in two volumes octavo, under the title of "Minstrelsy
+of the Scottish Border." He added in the following
+year a third volume, consisting of imitations of
+ancient ballads, composed by himself and others. These
+volumes issued from the printing-press of his early friend
+and school-fellow, Mr James Ballantyne of Kelso, who
+had already begun to indicate that skill in typography for
+which he was afterwards so justly celebrated. In 1804
+he published, from the Auchinleck Manuscript in the
+Advocates' Library, the ancient metrical tale of "Sir
+Tristrem;" and, in an elaborate introduction, he endeavoured
+to prove that it was the composition of
+Thomas of Ercildoune, better known as Thomas the
+Rhymer. He published in 1805 "The Lay of the
+Last Minstrel," an original ballad poem, which, speedily
+attaining a wide circulation, procured for him an extensive
+reputation, and the substantial reward of &pound;600.</p>
+
+<p>The prosperity of the poet rose with his fame. In<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[Pg 280]</a></span>
+the year following that which produced the "Lay,"
+he received his appointment as a principal clerk of the
+Court of Session, an office which afterwards brought him
+&pound;1200 a-year. To literary occupation he now resolved
+to dedicate his intervals of leisure. In 1808 he produced
+"Marmion," his second great poem, which
+brought him &pound;1000 from the publisher, and at once
+established his fame. During the same year he
+completed the heavy task of editing the works of
+Dryden, in eighteen volumes. In 1809 he edited the
+state papers and letters of Sir Ralph Sadler, and became
+a contributor to the <i>Edinburgh Annual Register</i>,
+conducted by Southey. "The Lady of the Lake," the
+most happily-conceived and popular of his poetical
+works, appeared in 1810; "Don Roderick," in 1811;
+"Rokeby," in 1813; and "The Lord of the Isles," in
+1814. "Harold the Dauntless," and "The Bridal of
+Triermain," appeared subsequently, without the author's
+name.</p>
+
+<p>As a poet, Scott had now attained a celebrity unrivalled
+among his contemporaries, and it was in the
+apprehension of compromising his reputation, that, in
+attempting a new species of composition, he was extremely
+anxious to conceal the name of the author.
+The novel of "Waverley," which appeared in 1814, did
+not, however, suffer from its being anonymous; for,
+although the sale was somewhat heavy at first, the work
+soon afterwards reached the extraordinary circulation of
+twelve thousand copies. Contrary to reasonable expectation,
+however, the author of "Waverley" did not
+avow himself, and, numerous as was the catalogue of
+prose fictions which, for more than twenty years, proceeded
+from his pen, he continued as desirous of retaining
+his secret as were his female contemporaries, Lady Nairn<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[Pg 281]</a></span>
+and Lady Anne Barnard, to cast a veil over their poetical
+character. The rapidity with which the "Great Unknown"
+produced works of fiction, was one of the marvels
+of the age; and many attempts were made to withdraw
+the curtain which concealed the mysterious author.
+Successive years produced at least one, and often two,
+novels of a class infinitely superior to the romances of the
+past age, all having reference to the manners and habits
+of the most interesting and chivalrous periods of Scottish
+or British history, which, in these works, were depicted
+with a power and vivacity unattained by the most graphic
+national historians. Subsequently to the publication
+of "Guy Mannering" and "The Antiquary," in 1815
+and 1816, and as an expedient to sustain the public interest,
+Scott commenced a new series of novels, under
+the title of "Tales of my Landlord," these being professedly
+written by a different author; but this resort
+was abandoned as altogether unnecessary for the contemplated
+object. Each successive romance by the
+author of "Waverley" awakened renewed ardour and
+enthusiasm among the public, and commanded a circulation
+commensurate with the bounds in which the language
+was understood. Many of them were translated
+into the various European languages. In the year 1814
+he had published an edition of the works of Swift, in
+nineteen volumes octavo.</p>
+
+<p>For some years after his marriage, Scott had occupied
+a cottage in the romantic vicinity of Lasswade, near
+Edinburgh; but in 1804 he removed to Ashestiel, an old
+mansion, beautifully situated on the banks of the Tweed,
+seven miles above Selkirk, where, for several years, he
+continued to reside during the vacation of the Court.
+The ruling desire of his life was, that by the proceeds
+of his intellectual labour he might acquire an ample<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[Pg 282]</a></span>
+demesne, with a suitable mansion of his own, and thus
+in some measure realise in his own person, and in those
+of his representatives, somewhat of the territorial importance
+of those olden barons, whose wassails and whose
+feuds he had experienced delight in celebrating. To
+attain such distinction as a Scottish <i>laird</i>, or landholder,
+he was prepared to incur many sacrifices; nor was this
+desire exceeded by regard for literary reputation. It was
+unquestionably with a view towards the attainment of his
+darling object, that he taxed so severely those faculties
+with which nature had so liberally endowed him, and
+exhibited a prolificness of authorship, such as has rarely
+been evinced in the annals of literary history. In 1811
+he purchased, on the south bank of the Tweed, near Melrose,
+the first portion of that estate which, under the
+name of Abbotsford, has become indelibly associated with
+his history. The soil was then a barren waste, but by
+extensive improvements the place speedily assumed the
+aspect of amenity and beauty. The mansion, a curious
+amalgamation, in questionable taste, of every species of
+architecture, was partly built in 1811, and gradually
+extended with the increasing emoluments of the owner.
+By successive purchases of adjacent lands, the Abbotsford
+property became likewise augmented, till the rental
+amounted to about &pound;700 a-year&mdash;a return sufficiently
+limited for an expenditure of upwards of &pound;50,000 on this
+favourite spot.</p>
+
+<p>At Abbotsford the poet maintained the character of a
+wealthy country gentleman. He was visited by distinguished
+persons from the sister kingdom, from the
+Continent, and from America, all of whom he entertained
+in a style of sumptuous elegance. Nor did his
+constant social intercourse with his visitors and friends
+interfere with the regular prosecution of his literary<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[Pg 283]</a></span>
+labours: he rose at six, and engaged in study and composition
+till eleven o'clock. During the period of his
+residence in the country, he devoted the remainder of
+the day to his favourite exercise on horseback, the
+superintendence of improvements on his property, and
+the entertainment of his guests. In March 1820,
+George IV., to whom he was personally known, and
+who was a warm admirer of his genius, granted to him
+the honour of a baronetcy, being the first which was
+conferred by his Majesty after his accession. Prior to
+this period, besides the works already enumerated, he
+had given to the world his romances of "The Black
+Dwarf," "Old Mortality," "Rob Roy," "The Heart of
+Midlothian," "The Bride of Lammermoor," "A Legend
+of Montrose," and "Ivanhoe." The attainment of the
+baronetcy appears to have stimulated him to still
+greater exertion. In 1820 he produced, besides "Ivanhoe,"
+which appeared in the early part of that year,
+"The Monastery" and "The Abbot;" and in the beginning
+of 1821, the romance of "Kenilworth," being
+twelve volumes published within the same number of
+months. "The Pirate" and "The Fortunes of Nigel"
+appeared in 1822; "Peveril of the Peak" and "Quentin
+Durward," in 1823; "St Ronan's Well" and
+"Redgauntlet," in 1824; and "The Tales of the Crusaders,"
+in 1825.</p>
+
+<p>During the visit of George IV. to Scotland, in 1822,
+Sir Walter undertook the congenial duty of acting as
+Master of Ceremonies, which he did to the entire satisfaction
+of his sovereign and of the nation. But while
+prosperity seemed to smile with increasing brilliancy,
+adversity was hovering near. In 1826, Archibald Constable
+and Company, the famous publishers of his
+works, became insolvent, involving in their bankruptcy<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[Pg 284]</a></span>
+the printing firm of the Messrs Ballantyne, of which Sir
+Walter was a partner. The liabilities amounted to the
+vast sum of &pound;102,000, for which Sir Walter was individually
+responsible. To a mind less balanced by
+native intrepidity and fortified by principle, the apparent
+wreck of his worldly hopes would have produced
+irretrievable despondency; but Scott bore his misfortune
+with magnanimity and manly resignation. He had
+been largely indebted to both the establishments which
+had unfortunately involved him in their fall, in the
+elegant production of his works, as well as in respect of
+pecuniary accommodation; and he felt bound in honour,
+as well as by legal obligation, fully to discharge the
+debt. He declined to accept an offer of the creditors to
+be satisfied with a composition; and claiming only to be
+allowed time, applied himself with indomitable energy
+to his arduous undertaking, at the age of fifty-five,
+in the full determination, if his life was spared, of cancelling
+every farthing of his obligations. At the crisis
+of his embarrassments he was engaged in the composition
+of "Woodstock," which shortly afterwards
+appeared. The "Life of Napoleon," which had for a
+considerable time occupied his attention, was published
+in 1827, in nine vols. octavo. In the course of its preparation
+he had visited both London and Paris in
+search of materials. In the same year he produced
+"Chronicles of the Canongate," <i>first series</i>; and in the
+year following, the second series of those charming
+tales, and the first portion of his juvenile history of
+Scotland, under the title of "Tales of a Grandfather."
+A second portion of these tales appeared in 1829, and
+the third and concluding series in 1830, when he also
+contributed a graver History of Scotland in two
+volumes to <i>Lardner's Cabinet Cyclop&aelig;dia</i>. In 1829<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[Pg 285]</a></span>
+likewise appeared "Anne of Geierstein," a romance,
+and in 1830 the "Letters on Demonology and Witchcraft."
+In 1831 he produced a series of "Tales on French
+History," uniform with the "Tales of a Grandfather," and
+his novels, "Count Robert of Paris," and "Castle Dangerous,"
+as a fourth series of "Tales of My Landlord."
+Other productions of inferior mark appeared from his
+pen; he contributed to the <i>Edinburgh Review</i>, during
+the first year of its career; wrote the articles, "Chivalry,"
+"Romance," and "Drama," for the sixth edition of the
+<i>Encyclop&aelig;dia Britannica</i>; and during his latter years contributed
+somewhat copiously to the <i>Quarterly Review</i>.</p>
+
+<p>At a public dinner in Edinburgh, for the benefit of
+the Theatrical Fund, on the 23d of February 1827, Sir
+Walter made his first avowal as to the authorship of the
+Waverley Novels,&mdash;an announcement which scarcely
+took the public by surprise. The physical energies of the
+illustrious author were now suffering a rapid decline;
+and in his increasing infirmities, and liability to sudden
+and severe attacks of pain, and even of unconsciousness,
+it became evident to his friends, that, in the praiseworthy
+effort to pay his debts, he was sacrificing his health and
+shortening his life. Those apprehensions proved not
+without foundation. In the autumn of 1831, his health
+became so lamentably broken, that his medical advisers
+recommended a residence in Italy, and entire cessation
+from mental occupation, as the only means of invigorating
+a constitution so seriously dilapidated. But the
+counsel came too late; the patient proceeded to Naples,
+and afterwards to Rome, but experiencing no benefit
+from the change, he was rapidly conveyed homewards in
+the following summer, in obedience to his express wish,
+that he might have the satisfaction of closing his eyes
+at Abbotsford. The wish was gratified: he arrived at<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[Pg 286]</a></span>
+Abbotsford on the 11th of July 1832, and survived till
+the 21st of the ensuing September. According to his
+own request, his remains were interred in an aisle in
+Dryburgh Abbey, which had belonged to one of his
+ancestors, and had been granted to him by the late
+Earl of Buchan. A heavy block of marble rests upon
+the grave, in juxtaposition with another which has been
+laid on that of his affectionate partner in life, who died
+in May 1826. The aisle is protected by a heavy iron
+railing.</p>
+
+<p>In stature, Sir Walter Scott was above six feet; but
+his personal appearance, which had otherwise been commanding,
+was considerably marred by the lameness of
+his right limb, which caused him to walk with an awkward
+effort, and ultimately with much difficulty. His
+countenance, so correctly represented in his numerous
+portraits and busts, was remarkable for depth of forehead;
+his features were somewhat heavy, and his eyes,
+covered with thick eyelashes, were dull, unless animated
+by congenial conversation. He was of a fair complexion;
+and his hair, originally sandy, became gray
+from a severe illness which he suffered in his 48th year.
+His general conversation consisted in the detail of chivalric
+adventures and anecdotes of the olden times. His
+memory was so retentive that whatever he had studied
+indelibly maintained a place in his recollection. In fertility
+of imagination he surpassed all his contemporaries.
+As a poet, if he has not the graceful elegance of
+Campbell, and the fervid energy of Byron, he excels the
+latter in purity of sentiment, and the former in vigour
+of conception. His style was well adapted for the composition
+of lyric poetry; but as he had no ear for music,
+his song compositions are not numerous. Several of
+these, however, have been set to music, and maintain<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[Pg 287]</a></span>
+their popularity.<a name="FNanchor_72_72" id="FNanchor_72_72"></a><a href="#Footnote_72_72" class="fnanchor">[72]</a> But Scott's reputation as a poet
+is inferior to his reputation as a novelist; and
+while even his best poems may cease to be generally
+read, the author of the Waverley Novels will only be
+forgotten with the disuse of the language. A cabinet
+edition of these novels, with the author's last notes, and
+illustrated with elegant engravings, appeared in forty-eight
+volumes a short period before his decease; several
+other complete editions have since been published by the
+late Mr Robert Cadell, and by the present proprietors
+of the copyright, the Messrs Black of Edinburgh.</p>
+
+<p>As a man of amiable dispositions and incorruptible
+integrity, Sir Walter Scott shone conspicuous among
+his contemporaries, the latter quality being eminently
+exhibited in his resolution to pay the whole of his heavy
+pecuniary liabilities. To this effort he fell a martyr; yet
+it was a source of consolation to his survivors, that, by
+his own extraordinary exertions, the policy of life insurance
+payable at his death, and the sum of &pound;30,000 paid
+by Mr Cadell for the copyright of his works, the whole
+amount of the debt was discharged. It is, however
+painfully, to be remarked, that the object of his earlier
+ambition, in raising a family, has not been realised. His
+children, consisting of two sons and two daughters,
+though not constitutionally delicate, have all departed
+from the scene, and the only representative of his house
+is the surviving child of his eldest daughter, who was
+married to Mr John Gibson Lockhart, the late editor of
+the <i>Quarterly Review</i>, and his literary executor. This
+sole descendant, a grand-daughter, is the wife of Mr<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[Pg 288]</a></span>
+Hope, Q.C., who has lately added to his patronymic the
+name of Scott, and made Abbotsford his summer residence.
+The memory of the illustrious Minstrel has
+received every honour from his countrymen; monuments
+have been raised to him in the principal towns&mdash;that in
+the capital, a rich Gothic cross, being one of the noblest
+decorations of his native city. Abbotsford has become the
+resort of the tourist and of the traveller from every land,
+who contemplate with interest and devotion a scene
+hallowed by the loftiest genius.</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"The grass is trodden by the feet<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of thousands, from a thousand lands&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The prince, the peasant, tottering age,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And rosy schoolboy bands;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All crowd to fairy Abbotsford,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And lingering gaze, and gaze the more;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hang o'er the chair in which <i>he</i> sat,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The latest dress <i>he</i> wore."<a name="FNanchor_73_73" id="FNanchor_73_73"></a><a href="#Footnote_73_73" class="fnanchor">[73]</a><br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[Pg 289]</a></span></div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="IT_WAS_AN_ENGLISH_LADYE_BRIGHT74" id="IT_WAS_AN_ENGLISH_LADYE_BRIGHT74"></a>IT WAS AN ENGLISH LADYE BRIGHT.<a name="FNanchor_74_74" id="FNanchor_74_74"></a><a href="#Footnote_74_74" class="fnanchor">[74]</a></h3>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">It was an English ladye bright<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">(The sun shines fair on Carlisle wall),<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And she would marry a Scottish knight,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For Love will still be lord of all.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Blithely they saw the rising sun,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When he shone fair on Carlisle wall;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But they were sad ere day was done,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Though Love was still the lord of all.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The sire gave brooch and jewel fine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where the sun shines fair on Carlisle wall;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her brother gave but a flask of wine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For ire that Love was lord of all.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">For she had lands, both meadow and lea,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where the sun shines fair on Carlisle wall,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And he swore her death, ere he would see<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A Scottish knight the lord of all.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">That wine she had not tasted well<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">(The sun shines fair on Carlisle wall),<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When dead in her true love's arms she fell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For Love was still the lord of all.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[Pg 290]</a></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">He pierced her brother to the heart,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where the sun shines fair on Carlisle wall&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So perish all would true love part,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That Love may still be lord of all!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And then he took the cross divine<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">(Where the sun shines fair on Carlisle wall),<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And died for her sake in Palestine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So Love was still the lord of all.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Now all ye lovers, that faithful prove,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">(The sun shines fair on Carlisle wall)<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Pray for their souls who died for love,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For Love shall still be lord of all!<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="LOCHINVAR75" id="LOCHINVAR75"></a>LOCHINVAR.<a name="FNanchor_75_75" id="FNanchor_75_75"></a><a href="#Footnote_75_75" class="fnanchor">[75]</a></h3>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Oh, young Lochinvar is come out of the west,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Through all the wide border his steed was the best;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And save his good broadsword he weapons had none,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He rode all unarm'd, and he rode all alone.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So faithful in love, and so dauntless in war,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There never was knight like the young Lochinvar.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">He stay'd not for brake, and he stopp'd not for stone,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He swam the Eske river where ford there was none;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But ere he alighted at Netherby gate,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The bride had consented, the gallant came late:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For a laggard in love, and a dastard in war,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Was to wed the fair Ellen of brave Lochinvar.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[Pg 291]</a></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">So boldly he enter'd the Netherby Hall,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Among bridesmen, and kinsmen, and brothers, and all:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then spoke the bride's father, his hand on his sword,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">(For the poor craven bridegroom said never a word)<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"Oh, come ye in peace here, or come ye in war,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or to dance at our bridal, young Lord Lochinvar?"<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"I long woo'd your daughter, my suit you denied;&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Love swells like the Solway, but ebbs like its tide&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And now am I come, with this lost love of mine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To lead but one measure, drink one cup of wine;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There are maidens in Scotland more lovely by far,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That would gladly be bride to the young Lochinvar."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The bride kiss'd the goblet; the knight took it up,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He quaff'd off the wine, and he threw down the cup;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She look'd down to blush, and she look'd up to sigh,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With a smile on her lips, and a tear in her eye.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He took her soft hand, ere her mother could bar&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"Now tread we a measure!" said young Lochinvar.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">So stately his form, and so lovely her face,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That never a hall such a galliard did grace;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While her mother did fret, and her father did fume,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the bridegroom stood dangling his bonnet and plume;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the bride-maidens whisper'd, "'Twere better, by far,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To have match'd our fair cousin with young Lochinvar."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">One touch to her hand, and one word in her ear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When they reach'd the hall-door, and the charger stood near;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So light to the croupe the fair lady he swung,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So light to the saddle before her he sprung!<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[Pg 292]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">"She is won! we are gone, over bank, bush, and scaur;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They 'll have fleet steeds that follow," quoth young Lochinvar.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">There was mounting 'mong Gr&aelig;mes of the Netherby clan;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Forsters, Fenwicks, and Musgraves, they rode and they ran:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There was racing, and chasing, on Cannobie Lea,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But the lost bride of Netherby ne'er did they see.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So daring in love, and so dauntless in war,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Have ye e'er heard of gallant like young Lochinvar?<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="WHERE_SHALL_THE_LOVER_REST76" id="WHERE_SHALL_THE_LOVER_REST76"></a>WHERE SHALL THE LOVER REST.<a name="FNanchor_76_76" id="FNanchor_76_76"></a><a href="#Footnote_76_76" class="fnanchor">[76]</a></h3>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Where shall the lover rest,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whom the fates sever<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From his true maiden's breast,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Parted for ever?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where, through groves deep and high,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sounds the far billow;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where early violets die<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Under the willow.<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Eleu loro, &amp;c.<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Soft shall be his pillow.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">There, through the summer day,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Cool streams are laving;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There, while the tempests sway,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Scarce are boughs waving;<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[Pg 293]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">There, thy rest shalt thou take,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Parted for ever;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Never again to wake,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Never, O never!<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Eleu loro, &amp;c.<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Never, O never!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Where shall the traitor rest,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He, the deceiver,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who could win maiden's breast,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ruin, and leave her?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In the lost battle,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Borne down by the flying,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where mingle war's rattle<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With groans of the dying.<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Eleu loro, &amp;c.<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">There shall he be lying.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Her wing shall the eagle flap<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O'er the false-hearted;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His warm blood the wolf shall lap<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ere life be parted.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shame and dishonour sit<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By his grave ever;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Blessing shall hallow it,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Never, O never!<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Eleu loro, &amp;c.<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Never, O never!<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[Pg 294]</a></span></div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="SOLDIER_REST_THY_WARFARE_OER77" id="SOLDIER_REST_THY_WARFARE_OER77"></a>SOLDIER, REST! THY WARFARE O'ER.<a name="FNanchor_77_77" id="FNanchor_77_77"></a><a href="#Footnote_77_77" class="fnanchor">[77]</a></h3>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Soldier, rest! thy warfare o'er,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sleep the sleep that knows not breaking;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Dream of battle-fields no more,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Days of danger, nights of waking.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In our isle's enchanted hall,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hands unseen thy couch are strewing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Fairy strains of music fall,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Every sense in slumber dewing.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Soldier, rest! thy warfare o'er,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Dream of fighting fields no more;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sleep the sleep that knows not breaking,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Morn of toil, nor night of waking.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">No rude sound shall reach thine ear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Armour's clang, or war-steed champing;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Trump nor pibroch summon here,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Mustering clan, or squadron tramping.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet the lark's shrill fife may come<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">At the daybreak from the fallow;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the bittern sound his drum,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Booming from the sedgy shallow.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ruder sounds shall none be near,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Guards nor wardens challenge here;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Here 's no war-steed's neigh and champing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shouting clans, or squadrons' stamping.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Huntsman, rest! thy chase is done;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While our slumbrous spells assail ye,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Dream not, with the rising sun,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Bugles here shall sound reveill&eacute;.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[Pg 295]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">Sleep! the deer is in his den;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sleep! nor dream in yonder glen,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How thy gallant steed lay dying.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Huntsman, rest! thy chase is done,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Think not of the rising sun,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For at dawning to assail ye,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Here no bugles sound reveill&eacute;.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="HAIL_TO_THE_CHIEF_WHO_IN_TRIUMPH_ADVANCES78" id="HAIL_TO_THE_CHIEF_WHO_IN_TRIUMPH_ADVANCES78"></a>HAIL TO THE CHIEF WHO IN TRIUMPH ADVANCES!<a name="FNanchor_78_78" id="FNanchor_78_78"></a><a href="#Footnote_78_78" class="fnanchor">[78]</a></h3>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Hail to the chief who in triumph advances!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Honour'd and bless'd be the ever-green pine!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Long may the tree, in his banner that glances,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Flourish, the shelter and grace of our line!<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Heaven send it happy dew,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Earth lend it sap anew,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Gaily to bourgeon, and broadly to grow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">While every Highland glen<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Sends our shout back agen,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Roderigh Vich Alpine dhu, ho! ieroe!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Ours is no sapling, chance-sown by the fountain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Blooming at Beltane, in winter to fade;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When the whirlwind has stripp'd every leaf on the mountain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The more shall Clan-Alpine exult in her shade;<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Moor'd in the rifted rock<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Proof to the tempest shock,<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[Pg 296]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">Firmer he roots him the ruder it blow;<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Menteith and Breadalbane, then,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Echo his praise agen,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Roderigh Vich Alpine dhu, ho! ieroe!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Proudly our pibroch has thrill'd in Glen Fruin,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Bannochar's groans to our slogan replied;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Glen Luss and Ross-dhu, they are smoking in ruin,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the best of Loch Lomond lie dead on her side.<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Widow and Saxon maid<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Long shall lament our raid,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Think of Clan-Alpine with fear and with woe;<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Lennox and Leven-Glen<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Shake when they hear agen,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Roderigh Vich Alpine dhu, ho! ieroe!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Row, vassals, row, for the pride of the Highlands!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Stretch to your oars for the ever-green pine!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh, that the rosebud that graces yon islands<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Were wreathed in a garland around him to twine!<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">O that some seedling gem,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Worthy such noble stem,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Honour'd and bless'd in their shadow might grow!<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Loud should Clan-Alpine then<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Ring from the deepmost glen,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Roderigh Vich Alpine dhu, ho! ieroe!<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[Pg 297]</a></span></div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="THE_HEATH_THIS_NIGHT_MUST_BE_MY_BED79" id="THE_HEATH_THIS_NIGHT_MUST_BE_MY_BED79"></a>THE HEATH THIS NIGHT MUST BE MY BED.<a name="FNanchor_79_79" id="FNanchor_79_79"></a><a href="#Footnote_79_79" class="fnanchor">[79]</a></h3>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The heath this night must be my bed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The bracken curtains for my head,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My lullaby the warder's tread,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Far, far from love and thee, Mary.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">To-morrow eve, more stilly laid,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My couch may be the bloody plaid,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My vesper song, thy wail, sweet maid!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It will not waken me, Mary!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I may not, dare not, fancy now<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The grief that clouds thy lovely brow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I dare not think upon thy vow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And all it promised me, Mary.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">No fond regret must Norman know;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When bursts Clan-Alpine on the foe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His heart must be like bended bow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His foot like arrow free, Mary.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">A time will come with feeling fraught,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For if I fall in battle fought,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thy hapless lover's dying thought<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shall be a thought on thee, Mary.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And if return'd from conquer'd foes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How blithely will the evening close,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How sweet the linnet sing repose<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To my young bride and me, Mary!<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[Pg 298]</a></span></div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="THE_IMPRISONED_HUNTSMAN80" id="THE_IMPRISONED_HUNTSMAN80"></a>THE IMPRISONED HUNTSMAN.<a name="FNanchor_80_80" id="FNanchor_80_80"></a><a href="#Footnote_80_80" class="fnanchor">[80]</a></h3>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">My hawk is tired of perch and hood,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My idle greyhound loathes his food,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My horse is weary of his stall,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And I am sick of captive thrall;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I wish I were as I have been,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hunting the hart in forest green,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With bended bow and bloodhound free,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For that 's the life is meet for me.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I hate to learn the ebb of time<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From yon dull steeple's drowsy chime,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or mark it as the sunbeams crawl,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Inch after inch, along the wall.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The lark was wont my matins ring,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The sable rook my vespers sing:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">These towers, although a king's they be,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Have not a hall of joy for me.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">No more at dawning morn I rise<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And sun myself in Ellen's eyes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Drive the fleet deer the forest through,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And homeward wend with evening dew;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A blithesome welcome blithely meet<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And lay my trophies at her feet,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While fled the eve on wing of glee&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That life is lost to love and me!<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[Pg 299]</a></span></div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="HE_IS_GONE_ON_THE_MOUNTAIN81" id="HE_IS_GONE_ON_THE_MOUNTAIN81"></a>HE IS GONE ON THE MOUNTAIN.<a name="FNanchor_81_81" id="FNanchor_81_81"></a><a href="#Footnote_81_81" class="fnanchor">[81]</a></h3>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">He is gone on the mountain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He is lost to the forest,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Like a summer-dried fountain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When our need was the sorest.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The font re-appearing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From the rain-drops shall borrow;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But to us comes no cheering,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To Duncan no morrow!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The hand of the reaper<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Takes the ears that are hoary,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But the voice of the weeper<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wails manhood in glory.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The autumn winds rushing<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wafts the leaves that are searest,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But our flower was in flushing<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When blighting was nearest.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Fleet foot on the corrie,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sage counsel in cumber,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Red hand in the foray,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How sound is thy slumber!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Like the dew on the mountain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Like the foam on the river,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Like the bubble on the fountain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thou art gone, and for ever.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[Pg 300]</a></span></div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="A_WEARY_LOT_IS_THINE_FAIR_MAID82" id="A_WEARY_LOT_IS_THINE_FAIR_MAID82"></a>A WEARY LOT IS THINE, FAIR MAID.<a name="FNanchor_82_82" id="FNanchor_82_82"></a><a href="#Footnote_82_82" class="fnanchor">[82]</a></h3>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"A weary lot is thine, fair maid,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A weary lot is thine!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To pull the thorn thy brow to braid,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And press the rue for wine!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A lightsome eye, a soldier's mien,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A feather of the blue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A doublet of the Lincoln green,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No more of me ye knew, my love!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No more of me ye knew.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"This morn is merry June, I trow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The rose is budding fain;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But she shall bloom in winter snow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ere we two meet again."<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He turn'd his charger as he spake,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Upon the river shore,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He gave his bridle-reins a shake,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Said, "Adieu for evermore, my love!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And adieu for evermore."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="ALLEN-A-DALE83" id="ALLEN-A-DALE83"></a>ALLEN-A-DALE.<a name="FNanchor_83_83" id="FNanchor_83_83"></a><a href="#Footnote_83_83" class="fnanchor">[83]</a></h3>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Allen-a-Dale has no faggot for burning,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Allen-a-Dale has no furrow for turning,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Allen-a-Dale has no fleece for the spinning,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet Allen-a-Dale has red gold for the winning;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Come, read me my riddle! come, hearken my tale!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And tell me the craft of bold Allen-a-Dale.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[Pg 301]</a></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The Baron of Ravensworth prances in pride,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And he views his domains upon Arkindale side,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The mere for his net, and the land for his game,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The chase for the wild, and the park for the tame;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet the fish of the lake and the deer of the vale<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Are less free to Lord Dacre than Allen-a-Dale.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Allen-a-Dale was ne'er belted a knight,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Though his spur be as sharp, and his blade be as bright;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Allen-a-Dale is no baron or lord,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet twenty tall yeomen will draw at his word;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the best of our nobles his bonnet will vail,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who at Rere-cross on Stanmore meets Allen-a-Dale.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Allen-a-Dale to his wooing is come;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The mother she asked of his household and home;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"Though the castle of Richmond stand fair on the hill,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My hall," quoth bold Allen, "shows gallanter still;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'Tis the blue vault of heaven, with its crescent so pale,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And with all its bright spangles," said Allen-a-Dale.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The father was steel and the mother was stone,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They lifted the latch, and they bade him be gone;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But loud, on the morrow, their wail and their cry,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He had laugh'd on the lass with his bonny black eye,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And she fled to the forest to hear a love-tale,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the youth it was told by was Allen-a-Dale.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">[Pg 302]</a></span></div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="THE_CYPRESS_WREATH84" id="THE_CYPRESS_WREATH84"></a>THE CYPRESS WREATH.<a name="FNanchor_84_84" id="FNanchor_84_84"></a><a href="#Footnote_84_84" class="fnanchor">[84]</a></h3>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Oh, lady! twine no wreath for me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or twine it of the cypress-tree!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Too lively glow the lilies' light,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The varnish'd holly 's all too bright,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The mayflower and the eglantine<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">May shade a brow less sad than mine;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But, lady, weave no wreath for me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or weave it of the cypress-tree!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Let dimpled mirth his temples twine<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With tendrils of the laughing vine;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The manly oak, the pensive yew,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To patriot and to sage be due;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The myrtle bough bids lovers live<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But that Matilda will not give;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then, lady, twine no wreath for me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or twine it of the cypress-tree!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Let merry England proudly rear<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her blended roses, bought so dear;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Let Albin bind her bonnet blue<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With heath and harebell dipp'd in dew.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On favour'd Erin's crest be seen<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The flower she loves of emerald green;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But, lady, twine no wreath for me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or twine it of the cypress-tree!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Strike the wild harp while maids prepare<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The ivy meet for minstrel's hair;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And, while his crown of laurel-leaves,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With bloody hand the victor weaves,<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">[Pg 303]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">Let the loud trump his triumph tell;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But when you hear the passing-bell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then, lady, twine a wreath for me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And twine it of the cypress-tree!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Yes, twine for me the cypress bough;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But, O Matilda, twine not now!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Stay till a few brief months are past<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And I have look'd and loved my last!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When villagers my shroud bestrew<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With pansies, rosemary, and rue,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then, lady, weave a wreath for me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And weave it of the cypress-tree!<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="THE_CAVALIER85" id="THE_CAVALIER85"></a>THE CAVALIER.<a name="FNanchor_85_85" id="FNanchor_85_85"></a><a href="#Footnote_85_85" class="fnanchor">[85]</a></h3>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">While the dawn on the mountain was misty and gray,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My true love has mounted his steed and away,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Over hill, over valley, o'er dale, and o'er down;&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Heaven shield the brave gallant that fights for the crown!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">He has doff'd the silk doublet the breastplate to bear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He has placed the steel cap o'er his long flowing hair,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From his belt to his stirrup his broadsword hangs down&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Heaven shield the brave gallant that fights for the crown!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">For the rights of fair England that broadsword he draws,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her king is his leader, her church is his cause,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His watchword is honour, his pay is renown,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">God strike with the gallant that strikes for the crown!<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">[Pg 304]</a></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">They may boast of their Fairfax, their Waller, and all<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The roundheaded rebels of Westminster Hall;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But tell these bold traitors of London's proud town,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That the spears of the north have encircled the crown.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">There 's Derby and Cavendish, dread of their foes;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There 's Erin's high Ormond, and Scotland's Montrose!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Would you match the base Skippon, and Massey, and Brown,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With the barons of England that fight for the crown?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Now joy to the crest of the brave cavalier,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Be his banner unconquer'd, resistless his spear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Till in peace and in triumph his toils he may drown,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In a pledge to fair England, her church, and her crown!<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="HUNTING_SONG86" id="HUNTING_SONG86"></a>HUNTING SONG.<a name="FNanchor_86_86" id="FNanchor_86_86"></a><a href="#Footnote_86_86" class="fnanchor">[86]</a></h3>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Waken, lords and ladies gay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On the mountain dawns the day,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All the jolly chase is here,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With hawk, and horse, and hunting-spear!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hounds are in their couples yelling,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hawks are whistling, horns are knelling,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Merrily, merrily, mingle they&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"Waken, lords and ladies gay."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Waken, lords and ladies gay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The mist has left the mountain gray,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Springlets in the dawn are steaming,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Diamonds on the brake are gleaming:<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">[Pg 305]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">And foresters have busy been<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To track the buck in thicket green;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now we come to chant our lay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"Waken, lords and ladies gay."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Waken, lords and ladies gay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To the green-wood haste away;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We can shew you where he lies,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Fleet of foot and tall of size;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We can shew the marks he made<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When 'gainst the oak his antlers fray'd;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You shall see him brought to bay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"Waken, lords and ladies gay."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Louder, louder chant the lay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Waken, lords and ladies gay!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Tell them youth, and mirth, and glee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Run a course as well as we;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Time, stern huntsman! who can baulk,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Stanch as hound, and fleet as hawk?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Think of this, and rise with day,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Gentle lords and ladies gay.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="OH_SAY_NOT_MY_LOVE_WITH_THAT" id="OH_SAY_NOT_MY_LOVE_WITH_THAT"></a>OH, SAY NOT, MY LOVE, WITH THAT
+MORTIFIED AIR.</h3>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Oh, say not, my love, with that mortified air,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That your spring-time of pleasure is flown;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor bid me to maids that are younger repair,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For those raptures that still are thine own.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">[Pg 306]</a></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Though April his temples may wreathe with the vine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Its tendrils in infancy curl'd;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'Tis the ardour of August matures us the wine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whose life-blood enlivens the world.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Though thy form, that was fashion'd as light as a fay's,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Has assumed a proportion more round,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And thy glance, that was bright as a falcon's at gaze,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Looks soberly now on the ground&mdash;<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Enough, after absence to meet me again,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thy steps still with ecstacy move;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Enough, that those dear sober glances retain<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For me the kind language of love.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">[Pg 307]</a></span></div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>METRICAL TRANSLATIONS<br />
+<br />
+<span style="font-size: 50%;">FROM</span><br />
+<br />
+The Modern Gaelic Minstrelsy.</h2>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">[Pg 308]</a></span></p>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">[Pg 309]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="ROBERT_MACKAY_ROB_DONN" id="ROBERT_MACKAY_ROB_DONN"></a>ROBERT MACKAY (ROB DONN).</h2>
+
+
+<p>Robert Mackay, called <i>Donn</i>, from the colour of his
+hair, which was brown or chestnut, was born in the
+Strathmore of Sutherlandshire, about the year 1714.</p>
+
+<p>His calling, with the interval of a brief military service
+in the fencibles, was the tending of cattle, in the
+several gradations of herd, drover, and bo-man, or
+responsible cow-keeper&mdash;the last, in his pastoral county,
+a charge of trust and respectability. At one period
+he had an appointment in Lord Reay's forest; but some
+deviations into the "righteous theft"&mdash;so the Highlanders
+of those parts, it seems, call the appropriation of
+an occasional deer to their own use&mdash;forfeited his noble
+employer's confidence. Rob, however, does not appear
+to have suffered in his general character or reputation
+for an <i>unconsidered trifle</i> like this, nor otherwise to have
+declined in the favour of his chief, beyond the necessity
+of transporting himself to a situation somewhat nearer
+the verge of Cape Wrath than the bosom of the deer
+preserve.</p>
+
+<p>Mackay was happily married, and brought up a large
+family in habits and sentiments of piety; a fact which<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310">[Pg 310]</a></span>
+his reverend biographer connects very touchingly with
+the stated solemnities of the "Saturday night," when
+the lighter chants of the week were exchanged at the
+worthy drover's fireside for the purer and holier melodies
+of another inspiration.<a name="FNanchor_87_87" id="FNanchor_87_87"></a><a href="#Footnote_87_87" class="fnanchor">[87]</a> As a pendant to this
+creditable account of the bard's principles, we are informed
+that he was a frequent guest at the presbytery
+dinner-table; a circumstance which some may be so
+malicious as to surmise amounted to nothing more than
+a purpose to enhance the festive recreations of the reverend
+body&mdash;a suspicion, we believe, in this particular
+instance, totally unfounded. He died in 1778; and
+he has succeeded to some rather peculiar honours for
+a person in his position, or even of his mark. He has
+had a reverend doctor for his editorial biographer,<a name="FNanchor_88_88" id="FNanchor_88_88"></a><a href="#Footnote_88_88" class="fnanchor">[88]</a> and
+no less than Sir Walter Scott for his reviewer.<a name="FNanchor_89_89" id="FNanchor_89_89"></a><a href="#Footnote_89_89" class="fnanchor">[89]</a></p>
+
+<p>The passages which Sir Walter has culled from
+some literal translations that were submitted to him,
+are certainly the most favourable specimens of the bard
+that we have been able to discover in his volume. The
+rest are generally either satiric rants too rough or too
+local for transfusion, or panegyrics on the living and the
+dead, in the usual extravagant style of such compositions,
+according to the taste of the Highlanders and the
+usage of their bards; or they are love-lays, of which the
+language is more copious and diversified than the sentiment.
+In the gleanings on which we have ventured,
+after the illustrious person who has done so much
+honour to the bard by his comments and selections, we
+have attempted to draw out a little more of the peculiar
+character of the poet's genius.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311">[Pg 311]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="THE_SONG_OF_WINTER" id="THE_SONG_OF_WINTER"></a>THE SONG OF WINTER.</h3>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>This is selected as a specimen of Mackay's descriptive poetry.
+It is in a style peculiar to the Highlands, where description
+runs so entirely into epithets and adjectives, as to render recitation
+breathless, and translation hopeless. Here, while we have
+retained the imagery, we have been unable to find room, or rather
+rhyme, for one half of the epithets in the original. The power of
+alliterative harmony in the original song is extraordinary.</p></div>
+
+
+<h4>I.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">At waking so early<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Was snow on the Ben,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And, the glen of the hill in,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The storm-drift so chilling<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The linnet was stilling,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That couch'd in its den;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And poor robin was shrilling<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In sorrow his strain.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>II.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Every grove was expecting<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Its leaf shed in gloom;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The sap it is draining,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Down rootwards 'tis straining,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the bark it is waning<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As dry as the tomb,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the blackbird at morning<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is shrieking his doom.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312">[Pg 312]</a></span></div></div>
+
+
+<h4>III.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Ceases thriving, the knotted,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The stunted birk-shaw;<a name="FNanchor_90_90" id="FNanchor_90_90"></a><a href="#Footnote_90_90" class="fnanchor">[90]</a><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While the rough wind is blowing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the drift of the snowing<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is shaking, o'erthrowing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The copse on the law.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>IV.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">'Tis the season when nature<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is all in the sere,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When her snow-showers are hailing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her rain-sleet assailing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her mountain winds wailing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her rime-frosts severe.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>V.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">'Tis the season of leanness,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Unkindness, and chill;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Its whistle is ringing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An iciness bringing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where the brown leaves are clinging<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In helplessness, still,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the snow-rush is delving<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With furrows the hill.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>VI.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The sun is in hiding,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or frozen its beam<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On the peaks where he lingers,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On the glens, where the singers,<a name="FNanchor_91_91" id="FNanchor_91_91"></a><a href="#Footnote_91_91" class="fnanchor">[91]</a><br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313">[Pg 313]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">With their bills and small fingers<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Are raking the stream,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or picking the midstead<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For forage&mdash;and scream.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>VII.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When darkens the gloaming<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh, scant is their cheer!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All benumb'd is their song in<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The hedge they are thronging,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And for shelter still longing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The mortar<a name="FNanchor_92_92" id="FNanchor_92_92"></a><a href="#Footnote_92_92" class="fnanchor">[92]</a> they tear;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ever noisily, noisily<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Squealing their care.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>VIII.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The running stream's chieftain<a name="FNanchor_93_93" id="FNanchor_93_93"></a><a href="#Footnote_93_93" class="fnanchor">[93]</a><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is trailing to land,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So flabby, so grimy,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So sickly, so slimy,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The spots of his prime he<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Has rusted with sand;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Crook-snouted his crest is<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That taper'd so grand.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>IX.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">How mournful in winter<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The lowing of kine;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How lean-back'd they shiver,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How draggled their cover,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How their nostrils run over<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With drippings of brine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So scraggy and crining<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In the cold frost they pine.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_314" id="Page_314">[Pg 314]</a></span></div></div>
+
+
+<h4>X.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">'Tis hallow-mass time, and<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To mildness farewell!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Its bristles are low'ring<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With darkness; o'erpowering<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Are its waters, aye showering<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With onset so fell;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Seem the kid and the yearling<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As rung their death-knell.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>XI.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Every out-lying creature,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How sinew'd soe'er,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Seeks the refuge of shelter;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The race of the antler<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They snort and they falter,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A-cold in their lair;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the fawns they are wasting<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Since their kin is afar.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>XII.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Such the songs that are saddest<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And dreariest of all;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I ever am eerie<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In the morning to hear ye!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When foddering, to cheer the<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Poor herd in the stall&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While each creature is moaning,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And sickening in thrall.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_315" id="Page_315">[Pg 315]</a></span></div></div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="DIRGE_FOR_IAN_MACECHAN" id="DIRGE_FOR_IAN_MACECHAN"></a>DIRGE FOR IAN MACECHAN.</h3>
+
+<h4>A FRAGMENT.</h4>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>Mackay was entertained by Macechan, who was a respectable
+store-farmer, from his earliest life to his marriage. According
+to his reverend biographer,<a name="FNanchor_94_94" id="FNanchor_94_94"></a><a href="#Footnote_94_94" class="fnanchor">[94]</a> the last lines of the elegy, of which
+the following is a translation, were much approved.</p></div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I see the wretch of high degree,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Though poverty has struck his race,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Pass with a darkness on his face<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That door of hospitality.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I see the widow in her tears,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Dark as her woe&mdash;I see her boy&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From both, want reaves the dregs of joy;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The flash of youth through rags appears.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I see the poor's&mdash;the minstrel's lot&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As brethren they&mdash;no boon for song!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I see the unrequited wrong<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Call for its helper, who is not.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">You hear my plaint, and ask me, why?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You ask me <i>when</i> this deep distress<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Began to rage without redress?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"With Ian Macechan's dying sigh!"<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="THE_SONG_OF_THE_FORSAKEN_DROVER" id="THE_SONG_OF_THE_FORSAKEN_DROVER"></a>THE SONG OF THE FORSAKEN DROVER.</h3>
+
+
+<p>During a long absence on a droving expedition, Mackay was
+deprived of his mistress by another lover, whom, in fine, she married.
+The discovery he made, on his return, led to this compo<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_316" id="Page_316">[Pg 316]</a></span>sition;
+which is a sequel to another composed on his distant
+journey, in which he seems to prognosticate something like what
+happened. Both are selected by Sir Walter Scott as specimens
+of the bard, and may be found paraphrastically rendered in a
+prose version, in the <i>Quarterly Review</i>, vol. xlv., p. 371, and in the
+notes to the last edition of "The Highland Drover," in "Chronicles
+of the Canongate." With regard to the present specimen, it may
+be remarked, that part of the original is either so obscure, or so
+freely rendered by Sir Walter Scott's translator, that we have
+attempted the present version, not without some little perplexity
+as to the sense of one or two allusions. We claim, on the whole,
+the merit of almost literal fidelity.</p>
+
+
+<h4>I.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I fly from the fold, since my passion's despair<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No longer must harbour the charms that are there;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Anne's<a name="FNanchor_95_95" id="FNanchor_95_95"></a><a href="#Footnote_95_95" class="fnanchor">[95]</a> slender eyebrows, her sleek tresses so long,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her turreted bosom&mdash;and Isabel's<a name="FNanchor_96_96" id="FNanchor_96_96"></a><a href="#Footnote_96_96" class="fnanchor">[96]</a> song;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What has been, and is not&mdash;woe 's my thought!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It must not be spoken, nor can be forgot.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>II.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I wander'd the fold, and I rambled the grove,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And each spot it reported the kiss of my love;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But I saw her caressing another&mdash;and feel<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'Tis distraction to hear them, and see them so leal.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What has been, and is not, &amp;c.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>III.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Since 'twas told that a rival beguil'd thee away,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The dreams of my love are the dreams of dismay;<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_317" id="Page_317">[Pg 317]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">Though unsummon'd of thee,<a name="FNanchor_97_97" id="FNanchor_97_97"></a><a href="#Footnote_97_97" class="fnanchor">[97]</a> love has captured thy thrall,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And my hope of redemption for ever is small.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Day and night, though I strive aye<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To shake him away, still he clings like the ivy.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>IV.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But, auburn-hair'd Anna! to tell thee my plight,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'Tis old love unrequited that prostrates my might,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In presence or absence, aye faithful, my smart<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Still racks, and still searches, and tugs at my heart&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Broken that heart, yet why disappear<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From my country, without one embrace from my dear?<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>V.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">She answers with laughter and haughty disdain&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"To handle my snood you petition in vain;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Six suitors are mine since the year thou wert gone,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What art <i>thou</i>, that thou should'st be the favourite one?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Art thou sick? Ha, ha, for thy woe!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Art thou dying for love? Troth, love's payment was slow."<a name="FNanchor_98_98" id="FNanchor_98_98"></a><a href="#Footnote_98_98" class="fnanchor">[98]</a><br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>VI.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Though my anger may feign it requites thy disdain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And vaunts in thy absence, it threatens in vain&mdash;<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_318" id="Page_318">[Pg 318]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">All in vain! for thy image in fondness returns,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And o'er thy sweet likeness expectancy burns;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And I hope&mdash;yes, I hope once more,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Till my hope waxes high as a tower<a name="FNanchor_99_99" id="FNanchor_99_99"></a><a href="#Footnote_99_99" class="fnanchor">[99]</a> in its soar.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="ISABEL_MACKAY_THE_MAID_ALONE" id="ISABEL_MACKAY_THE_MAID_ALONE"></a>ISABEL MACKAY&mdash;THE MAID ALONE.</h3>
+
+
+<h4>TO A PIOBRACH TUNE.</h4>
+
+<p>This is one of those lyrics, of which there are many in Gaelic
+poetry, that are intended to imitate pipe music. They consist of
+three parts, called Urlar, Siubhal, and Crunluath. The first is a
+slow, monotonous measure, usually, indeed, a mere repetition of
+the same words or tones; the second, a livelier or brisker melody,
+striking into description or narrative; the third, a rapid finale,
+taxing the reciter's or performer's powers to their utmost pitch
+of expedition. The heroine of the song is the same Isabel who is
+introduced towards the commencement of the "Forsaken Drover;"
+and it appears, from other verses in Mackay's collection, that it
+was not her fate to be "alone" through life. It is to be understood
+that when the verses were composed, she was in charge of
+her father's extensive pastoral <i>man&eacute;ge</i>, and not a mere milk-maid
+or dairy-woman.</p>
+
+
+<h4>URLAR.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Isabel Mackay is with the milk kye,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Isabel Mackay is alone;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Isabel Mackay is with the milk kye,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Isabel Mackay is alone, &amp;c.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Seest thou Isabel Mackay with the milk kye,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">At the forest foot&mdash;and alone?<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_319" id="Page_319">[Pg 319]</a></span></div></div>
+
+
+<h4>SIUBHAL.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">By the Virgin and Son!<a name="FNanchor_100_100" id="FNanchor_100_100"></a><a href="#Footnote_100_100" class="fnanchor">[100]</a><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thou bride-lacking one,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If ever thy time<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is coming, begone,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The occasion is prime,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For Isabel Mackay<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is with the milk kye<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">At the skirts of the forest,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And with her is none.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">By the Virgin and Son, &amp;c.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Woe is the sign!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It is not well<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With the lads that dwell<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Around us, so brave,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When the mistress fine<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of Riothan-a-dave<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is out with the kine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And with her is none.<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">O, woe is the sign, &amp;c.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Whoever he be<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That a bride would gain<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of gentle degree,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And a drove or twain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His speed let him strain<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To Riothan-a-dave,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And a bride he shall have.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then, to her so fain!<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Whoever he be, &amp;c.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_320" id="Page_320">[Pg 320]</a></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And a bride he shall have,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The maid that's alone.<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Isabel Mackay, &amp;c.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh, seest not the dearie<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So fit for embracing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her patience distressing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The bestial a-chasing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And she alone!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">'Tis a marvellous fashion<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That men should be slack,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When their bosoms lack<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An object of passion,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To look such a lass on,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her patience distressing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The bestial a-chasing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In the field, alone.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>CRUNLUATH (FINALE).</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Oh, look upon the prize, sirs,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That where yon heights are rising,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The whole long twelvemonth sighs in,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Because she is alone.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Go, learn it from my minstrelsy,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who list the tale to carry,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The maiden shuns the public eye,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And is ordain'd to tarry<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'Mid stoups and cans, and milking ware,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where brown hills rear their ridges bare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And wails her plight the livelong year,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To spend the day alone.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_321" id="Page_321">[Pg 321]</a></span></div></div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="EVANS_ELEGY" id="EVANS_ELEGY"></a>EVAN'S ELEGY.</h3>
+
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>Mackay was benighted on a deer-stalking expedition, near a wild
+hut or shealing, at the head of Loch Eriboll. Here he found its
+only inmate a poor asthmatic old man, stretched on his pallet, apparently
+at the point of death. As he sat by his bed-side, he
+"crooned," so as to be audible, it seems, to the patient, the following
+elegiac ditty, in which, it will be observed, he alludes to the
+death, then recent, of Pelham, an eminent statesman of George
+the Second's reign. As he was finishing his ditty, the old man's
+feelings were moved in a way which will be found in the appended
+note. This is one of Sir Walter Scott's extracts in the <i>Quarterly</i>,
+and is now attempted in the measure of the original.</p></div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">How often, Death! art waking<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The imploring cry of Nature!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When she sees her phalanx breaking,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As thou'dst have all&mdash;grim feature!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Since Autumn's leaves to brownness,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of deeper shade were tending,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We saw thy step, from palaces,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To Evan's nook descending.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh, long, long thine agony!<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">A nameless length its tide;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Since breathless thou hast panted here,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And not a friend beside.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thine errors what, I judge not;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">What righteous deeds undone;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But if remains a se'ennight,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Redeem it, dying one!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Oh, marked we, Death! thy teachings true,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What dust of time would blind?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Such thy impartiality<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To our highest, lowest kind.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_322" id="Page_322">[Pg 322]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">Thy look is upwards, downwards shot,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Determined none to miss;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It rose to Pelham's princely bower,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It sinks to shed like this!<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Oh, long, long, &amp;c.!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So great thy victims, that the noble<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Stand humbled by the bier;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So poor, it shames the poorest<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To grace them with a tear.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Between the minister of state<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And him that grovels there,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Should one remain uncounselled,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is there one whom dool shall spare?<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Oh, long, long, &amp;c.!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The hail that strews the battle-field<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Not louder sounds its call,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Than the falling thousands round us<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Are voicing words to all.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hearken! least of all the nameless;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Evan's hour is going fast;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hearken! greatest of earth's great ones&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Princely Pelham's hour is past.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Oh, long, long, &amp;c.!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Friends of my heart! in the twain we see<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A type of life's declining;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'Tis like the lantern's dripping light,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">At either end a-dwining.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where was there one more low than thou&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thou least of meanest things?<a name="FNanchor_101_101" id="FNanchor_101_101"></a><a href="#Footnote_101_101" class="fnanchor">[101]</a><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And where than his was higher place<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Except the throne of kings?<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Oh, long, long, &amp;c.!<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_323" id="Page_323">[Pg 323]</a></span></div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="DOUGAL_BUCHANAN" id="DOUGAL_BUCHANAN"></a>DOUGAL BUCHANAN.</h2>
+
+
+<p>Dougal Buchanan was born at the Mill of Ardoch, in
+the beautiful valley of Strathyre, and parish of Balquhidder,
+in the year 1716. His parents were in circumstances
+to allow him the education of the parish school;
+on which, by private application, he so far improved, as
+to be qualified to act as teacher and catechist to the
+Highland locality which borders on Loch Rannoch,
+under the appointment of the Society for Propagating
+Christian Knowledge. Never, it is believed, were the
+duties of a calling discharged with more zeal and efficiency.
+The catechist was, both in and out of the strict
+department of his office, a universal oracle,<a name="FNanchor_102_102" id="FNanchor_102_102"></a><a href="#Footnote_102_102" class="fnanchor">[102]</a> and his
+name is revered in the scene of his usefulness in a degree
+to which the honours of canonization could scarcely
+have added. Pious, to the height of a proverbial model,
+he was withal frank, cheerful, and social; and from his
+extraordinary command of the Gaelic idiom, and its
+poetic phraseology, he must have lent an ear to many a
+song and many a legend<a name="FNanchor_103_103" id="FNanchor_103_103"></a><a href="#Footnote_103_103" class="fnanchor">[103]</a>&mdash;a nourishment of the imagination
+in which, as well as in purity of Gaelic, his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_324" id="Page_324">[Pg 324]</a></span>
+native Balquhidder was immeasurably inferior to the
+Rannoch district of his adoption.</p>
+
+<p>The composition of hymns, embracing a most eloquent
+and musical paraphrase of many of the more striking
+inspirations of scriptural poetry, seems to have been the
+favourite employment of his leisure hours. These are
+sung or recited in every cottage of the Highlands where
+a reader or a retentive memory is to be found.</p>
+
+<p>Buchanan's life was short. He was cut off by typhus
+fever, at a period when his talents had begun to attract
+a more than local attention. It was within a year after
+his return from superintending the press of the first version
+of the Gaelic New Testament, that his lamented
+death took place. His command of his native tongue
+is understood to have been serviceable to the translator,
+the Rev. James Stewart of Killin, who had probably
+been Buchanan's early acquaintance, as they were
+natives of the same district. This reverend gentleman
+is said to have entertained a scheme of getting the catechist
+regularly licensed to preach the gospel without
+the usual academical preparation. The scheme was frustrated
+by his death, in the summer of 1768.</p>
+
+<p>We know of no fact relating to the development of
+the poetic vein of this interesting bard, unless it be found
+in the circumstance to which he refers in his "Diary,"<a name="FNanchor_104_104" id="FNanchor_104_104"></a><a href="#Footnote_104_104" class="fnanchor">[104]</a>
+of having been bred a violent Jacobite, and having lived
+many years under the excitement of strong, even vindictive
+feelings, at the fate of his chief and landlord (Buchanan
+of Arnprior and Strathyre), who, with many of his
+dependents, and some of the poet's relations, suffered
+death for their share in the last rebellion. While he
+relates that the power of religion at length quenched this<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_325" id="Page_325">[Pg 325]</a></span>
+effervescence of his emotions, it may be supposed that
+ardent Jacobitism, with its common accompaniment of
+melody, may have fostered an imagination which every
+circumstance proves to have been sufficiently susceptible.
+It may be added, as a particular not unworthy of
+memorial in a poet's life, that his remains are deposited
+in perhaps the most picturesque place of sepulture in the
+kingdom&mdash;the peninsula of Little Leny, in the neighbourhood
+of Callander; to which his relatives transferred
+his body, as the sepulchre of many chiefs and considerable
+persons of his clan, and where it is perhaps matter
+of surprise that his Highland countrymen have never
+thought of honouring his memory with some kind of
+monument.</p>
+
+<p>The poetic remains of Dougal Buchanan do not afford
+extensive materials for translation. The subjects with
+which he deals are too solemn, and their treatment too
+surcharged with scriptural imagery, to be available for
+the purposes of a popular collection, of which the object
+is not directly religious. The only exception that
+occurs, perhaps, is his poem on "The Skull." Even
+in this case some moral pictures<a name="FNanchor_105_105" id="FNanchor_105_105"></a><a href="#Footnote_105_105" class="fnanchor">[105]</a> have been omitted, as
+either too coarsely or too solemnly touched, to be fit for
+our purpose. A few lines of the conclusion are also
+omitted, as being mere amplifications of Scripture&mdash;wonderful,
+indeed, in point of vernacular beauty or
+sublimity, but not fusible for other use. Slight traces
+of imitation may be perceived; "The Grave" of Blair,
+and some passages of "Hamlet," being the apparent
+models.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_326" id="Page_326">[Pg 326]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="A_CLAGIONN" id="A_CLAGIONN"></a>A CLAGIONN.</h3>
+
+
+<h4>THE SKULL.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">As I sat by the grave, at the brink of its cave<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Lo! a featureless skull on the ground;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The symbol I clasp, and detain in my grasp,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While I turn it around and around.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Without beauty or grace, or a glance to express<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of the bystander nigh, a thought;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Its jaw and its mouth are tenantless both,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor passes emotion its throat.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No glow on its face, no ringlets to grace<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Its brow, and no ear for my song;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hush'd the caves of its breath, and the finger of death<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The raised features hath flatten'd along.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The eyes' wonted beam, and the eyelids' quick gleam&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The intelligent sight, are no more;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But the worms of the soil, as they wriggle and coil,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Come hither their dwellings to bore.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No lineament here is left to declare<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If monarch or chief art thou;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Alexander the Brave, as the portionless slave<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That on dunghill expires, is as low.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thou delver of death, in my ear let thy breath<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who tenants my hand, unfold;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That my voice may not die without a reply,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Though the ear it addresses is cold.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Say, wert thou a May,<a name="FNanchor_106_106" id="FNanchor_106_106"></a><a href="#Footnote_106_106" class="fnanchor">[106]</a> of beauty a ray,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And flatter'd thine eye with a smile?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thy meshes didst set, like the links of a net,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The hearts of the youth to wile?<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_327" id="Page_327">[Pg 327]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">Alas every charm that a bosom could warm<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is changed to the grain of disgust!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh, fie on the spoiler for daring to soil her<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Gracefulness all in the dust!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Say, wise in the law, did the people with awe<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Acknowledge thy rule o'er them&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A magistrate true, to all dealing their due,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And just to redress or condemn?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or was righteousness sold for handfuls of gold<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In the scales of thy partial decree;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While the poor were unheard when their suit they preferr'd,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And appeal'd their distresses to thee?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Say, once in thine hour, was thy medicine of power<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To extinguish the fever of ail?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And seem'd, as the pride of thy leech-craft e'en tried<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O'er omnipotent death to prevail?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Alas, that thine aid should have ever betray'd<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thy hope when the need was thine own;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What salve or annealing sufficed for thy healing<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When the hours of thy portion were flown?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or&mdash;wert thou a hero, a leader to glory,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While armies thy truncheon obey'd;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To victory cheering, as thy foemen careering<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In flight, left their mountains of dead?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Was thy valiancy laid, or unhilted thy blade,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When came onwards in battle array<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The sepulchre-swarms, ensheathed in their arms,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To sack and to rifle their prey?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How they joy in their spoil, as thy body the while<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Besieging, the reptile is vain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And her beetle-mate blind hums his gladness to find<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His defence in the lodge of thy brain!<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_328" id="Page_328">[Pg 328]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">Some dig where the sheen of the ivory has been,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Some, the organ where music repair'd;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In rabble and rout they come in and come out<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">At the gashes their fangs have bared.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;*&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;*&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;*&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;*&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;*<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Do I hold in my hand a whole lordship of land,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Represented by nakedness, here?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Perhaps not unkind to the helpless thy mind,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor all unimparted thy gear;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Perhaps stern of brow to thy tenantry thou!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To leanness their countenances grew&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'Gainst their crave for respite, when thy clamour for right<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Required, to a moment, its due;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While the frown of thy pride to the aged denied<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To cover their head from the chill,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And humbly they stand, with their bonnet in hand,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As cold blows the blast of the hill.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thy serfs may look on, unheeding thy frown,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thy rents and thy mailings unpaid;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All praise to the stroke their bondage that broke!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While but claims their obeisance the dead.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;*&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;*&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;*&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;*&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;*<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Or a head do I clutch, whose devices were such,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That death must have lent them his sting&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So daring they were, so reckless of fear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As heaven had wanted a king?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Did the tongue of the lie, while it couch'd like a spy<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In the haunt of thy venomous jaws,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Its slander display, as poisons its prey<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The devilish snake in the grass?<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_329" id="Page_329">[Pg 329]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">That member unchain'd, by strong bands is restrain'd,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The inflexible shackles of death;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And, its emblem, the trail of the worm, shall prevail<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where its slaver once harbour'd beneath.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And oh! if thy scorn went down to thine urn<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And expired, with impenitent groan;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To repose where thou art is of peace all thy part,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And then to appear&mdash;at the Throne!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Like a frog, from the lake that leapeth, to take<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To the Judge of thy actions the way,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And to hear from His lips, amid nature's eclipse,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thy sentence of termless dismay.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;*&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;*&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;*&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;*&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;*<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The hardness of iron thy bones shall environ,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To brass-links the veins of thy frame<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shall stiffen, and the glow of thy manhood shall grow<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Like the anvil that melts not in flame!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But wert thou the mould of a champion bold<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For God and his truth and his law?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh, then, though the fence of each limb and each sense<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is broken&mdash;each gem with a flaw&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Be comforted thou! For rising in air<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thy flight shall the clarion obey;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the shell of thy dust thou shalt leave to be crush'd,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If they will, by the creatures of prey.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_330" id="Page_330">[Pg 330]</a></span></div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="AM_BRUADAR" id="AM_BRUADAR"></a>AM BRUADAR.</h3>
+
+
+<h4>THE DREAM.</h4>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>We submit these further illustrations of the moral maxims of
+"The Skull." In the original they are touched in phraseology
+scarcely unworthy of the poet's Saxon models.</p></div>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">As lockfasted in slumber's arms<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I lay and dream'd (so dreams our race<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When every spectral object charms,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To melt, like shadow, in the chase),<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">A vision came; mine ear confess'd<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Its solemn sounds. "Thou man distraught!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Say, owns the wind thy hand's arrest,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or fills the world thy crave of thought?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;*&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;*&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;*&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;*&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;*<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Since fell transgression ravaged here<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And reft Man's garden-joys away,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He weeps his unavailing tear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And straggles, like a lamb astray.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"With shrilling bleat for comfort hie<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To every pinfold, humankind;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ah, there the fostering teat is dry,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The stranger mother proves unkind.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"No rest for toil, no drink for drought,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For bosom-peace the shadow's wing&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So feeds expectancy on nought,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And suckles every lying thing.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_331" id="Page_331">[Pg 331]</a></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Some woe for ever wreathes its chain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And hope foretells the clasp undone;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Relief at handbreadth seems, in vain<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thy fetter'd arms embrace&mdash;'tis gone!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Not all that trial's lore unlearns<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of all the lies that life betrays,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Avails, for still desire returns&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The last day's folly is to-day's.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Thy wish has prosper'd&mdash;has its taste<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Survived the hour its lust was drown'd;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or yields thine expectation's zest<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To full fruition, golden-crown'd?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"The rosebud is life's symbol bloom,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'Tis loved, 'tis coveted, 'tis riven&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Its grace, its fragrance, find a tomb,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When to the grasping hand 'tis given.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Go, search the world, wherever woe<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of high or low the bosom wrings,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There, gasp for gasp, and throe for throe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is answer'd from the breast of kings.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"From every hearth-turf reeks its cloud,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From every heart its sigh is roll'd;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The rose's stalk is fang'd&mdash;one shroud<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is both the sting's and honey's fold.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Is wealth thy lust&mdash;does envy pine<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where high its tempting heaps are piled?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Look down, behold the fountain shine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And, deeper still, with dregs defiled!<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_332" id="Page_332">[Pg 332]</a></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Quickens thy breath with rash inhale,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And falls an insect<a name="FNanchor_107_107" id="FNanchor_107_107"></a><a href="#Footnote_107_107" class="fnanchor">[107]</a> in its toil?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The creature turns thy life-blood pale,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And blends thine ivory teeth with soil.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"When high thy fellow-mortal soars,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His state is like the topmost nest&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It swings with every blast that roars,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And every motion shakes its crest.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"And if the world for once is kind,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet ever has the lot its bend;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where fortune has the crook inclined,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Not all thy strength or art shall mend.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"For as the sapling's sturdy stalk,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whose double twist is crossly strain'd,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Such is thy fortune&mdash;sure to baulk<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">At this extreme what there was gain'd.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"When Heaven its gracious manna hail'd,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'Twas vain who hoarded its supply,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Not all his miser care avail'd<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His neighbour's portion to outvie.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"So, blended all that nature owns,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So, warp'd all hopes that mortals bless&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With boundless wealth, the sufferer's groans;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With courtly luxury, distress.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Lift up the balance&mdash;heap with gold,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Its other shell vile dust shall fill;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And were a kingdom's ransom told,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The scales would want adjustment still.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_333" id="Page_333">[Pg 333]</a></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Life has its competence&mdash;nor deem<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That better than enough were more;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sure it were phantasy to dream<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With burdens to assuage thy sore.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"It is the fancy's whirling strife<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That breeds thy pain&mdash;to-day it craves,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To-morrow spurns&mdash;suffices life<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When passion asks what passion braves?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Should appetite her wish achieve,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To herd with brutes her joy would bound;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Pleased other paradise to leave,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Content to pasture on the ground.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"But pride rebels, nor towers alone<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Beyond that confine's lowly sphere&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Seems as from the Eternal Throne<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It aim'd the sceptre's self to tear.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"'Tis thus we trifle, thus we dare;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But, seek we to our bliss the way,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Let us to Heaven our path refer,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Believe, and worship, and obey.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"That choice is all&mdash;to range beyond<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor must, nor needs; provision, grace,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In these He gives, who sits enthroned,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Salvation, competence, and peace."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The instructive vision pass'd away,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But not its wisdom's dreamless lore;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No more in shadow-tracks I stray,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And fondle shadow-shapes no more.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_334" id="Page_334">[Pg 334]</a></span></div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="DUNCAN_MACINTYRE" id="DUNCAN_MACINTYRE"></a>DUNCAN MACINTYRE.</h2>
+
+
+<p>Duncan Macintyre (Donacha Ban) is considered by
+his countrymen the most extraordinary genius that
+the Highlands in modern times have produced. Without
+having learned a letter of any alphabet, he was enabled
+to pour forth melodies that charmed every ear to
+which they were intelligible. And he is understood to
+have had the published specimens of his poetry committed
+to writing by no mean judge of their merit,&mdash;the
+late Dr Stewart of Luss,&mdash;who, when a young man, became
+acquainted with this extraordinary person, in consequence
+of his being employed as a kind of under-keeper
+in a forest adjoining to the parish of which
+the Doctor's father was minister.</p>
+
+<p>Macintyre was born in Druimliart of Glenorchy on
+the 20th of March 1724, and died in October 1812.
+He was chiefly employed in the capacity of keeper
+in several of the Earl of Breadalbane's forests. He
+carried a musket, however, in his lordship's fencibles;
+which led him to take part, much against his inclination,
+in the Whig ranks at the battle of Falkirk. Later in life
+he transferred his musket to the Edinburgh City Guard.</p>
+
+<p>Macintyre's best compositions are those which are
+descriptive of forest scenes, and those which he dedicated
+to the praise of his wife. His verses are, however, very
+numerous, and embrace a vast variety of subjects. From
+the extraordinary diffusiveness of his descriptions, and
+the boundless luxuriance of his expressions, much difficulty
+has been experienced in reproducing his strains in
+the English idiom.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_335" id="Page_335">[Pg 335]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="MAIRI_BHAN_OG" id="MAIRI_BHAN_OG"></a>MAIRI BH&#256;N &#332;G.</h3>
+
+<h4>MARY, THE YOUNG, THE FAIR-HAIR'D.</h4>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">My young, my fair, my fair-hair'd Mary,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My life-time love, my own!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The vows I heard, when my kindest dearie<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Was bound to me alone,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By covenant true, and ritual holy,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Gave happiness all but divine;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor needed there more to transport me wholly,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Than the friends that hail'd thee mine.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;*&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;*&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;*&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;*&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;*<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">'Twas a Monday morn, and the way that parted<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Was far, but I rivall'd the wind,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The troth to plight with a maiden true-hearted,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That force can never unbind.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I led her apart, and the hour that we reckon'd,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While I gain'd a love and a bride,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I heard my heart, and could tell each second,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As its pulses struck on my side.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;*&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;*&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;*&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;*&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;*<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I told my ail to the foe that pain'd me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And said that no salve could save;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She heard the tale, and her leech-craft it sain'd me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For herself to my breast she gave.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;*&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;*&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;*&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;*&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;*<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Forever, my dear, I 'll dearly adore thee<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For chasing away, away,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My fancy's delusion, new loves ever choosing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And teaching no more to stray.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_336" id="Page_336">[Pg 336]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">I roam'd in the wood, many a tendril surveying,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All shapely from branch to stem,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My eye, as it look'd, its ambition betraying<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To cull the fairest from them;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">One branch of perfume, in blossom all over,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Bent lowly down to my hand,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And yielded its bloom, that hung high from each lover,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To me, the least of the band.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I went to the river, one net-cast I threw in,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where the stream's transparence ran,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Forget shall I never, how the beauty<a name="FNanchor_108_108" id="FNanchor_108_108"></a><a href="#Footnote_108_108" class="fnanchor">[108]</a> I drew in,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shone bright as the gloss of the swan.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh, happy the day that crown'd my affection<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With such a prize to my share!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My love is a ray, a morning reflection,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Beside me she sleeps, a star.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<h3><a name="BENDOURAIN_THE_OTTER_MOUNT" id="BENDOURAIN_THE_OTTER_MOUNT"></a>BENDOURAIN, THE OTTER MOUNT.</h3>
+
+
+<div class='blockquot'><p>Bendourain is a forest scene in the wilds of Glenorchy. The
+poem, or lay, is descriptive, less of the forest, or its mountain
+fastnesses, than of the habits of the creatures that tenant the
+locality&mdash;the dun-deer, and the roe. So minutely enthusiastic
+is the hunter's treatment of his theme, that the attempt to
+win any favour for his performance from the Saxon reader, is
+attended with no small risk,&mdash;although it is possible that a little
+practice with the rifle in any similar wilderness may propitiate
+even the holiday sportsman somewhat in favour of the subject
+and its minute details. We must commit this forest minstrel to
+the good-nature of other readers, entreating them only to render<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_337" id="Page_337">[Pg 337]</a></span>
+due acknowledgment to the forbearance which has, in the meantime,
+troubled them only with the first half of the performance,
+and with a single stanza of the finale. The composition is always
+rehearsed or sung to pipe music, of which it is considered, by
+those who understand the original, a most extraordinary echo,
+besides being in other respects a very powerful specimen of Gaelic
+minstrelsy.</p></div>
+
+
+<h4>URLAR.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The noble Otter hill!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It is a chieftain Beinn,<a name="FNanchor_109_109" id="FNanchor_109_109"></a><a href="#Footnote_109_109" class="fnanchor">[109]</a><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ever the fairest still<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of all these eyes have seen.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Spacious is his side;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I love to range where hide,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In haunts by few espied,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The nurslings of his den.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In the bosky shade<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of the velvet glade,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Couch, in softness laid,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The nimble-footed deer;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To see the spotted pack,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That in scenting never slack,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Coursing on their track,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is the prime of cheer.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Merry may the stag be,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The lad that so fairly<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Flourishes the russet coat<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That fits him so rarely.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'Tis a mantle whose wear<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Time shall not tear;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'Tis a banner that ne'er<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sees its colours depart:<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_338" id="Page_338">[Pg 338]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">And when they seek his doom,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Let a man of action come,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A hunter in his bloom,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With rifle not untried:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A notch'd, firm fasten'd flint,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To strike a trusty dint,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And make the gun-lock glint<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With a flash of pride.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Let the barrel be but true,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the stock be trusty too,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So, Lightfoot,<a name="FNanchor_110_110" id="FNanchor_110_110"></a><a href="#Footnote_110_110" class="fnanchor">[110]</a> though he flew,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shall be purple-dyed.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He should not be novice bred,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But a marksman of first head,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By whom that stag is sped,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In hill-craft not unskill'd;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So, when Padraig of the glen<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Call'd his hounds and men,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The hill spake back again,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As his orders shrill'd;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then was firing snell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the bullets rain'd like hail,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the red-deer fell<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Like warrior on the field.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>SIUBHAL.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Oh, the young doe so frisky,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So coy, and so fair,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That gambols so briskly,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And snuffs up the air;<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_339" id="Page_339">[Pg 339]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">And hurries, retiring,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To the rocks that environ,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When foemen are firing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And bullets are there.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Though swift in her racing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Like the kinsfolk before her,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No heart-burst, unbracing<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her strength, rushes o'er her.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'Tis exquisite hearing<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her murmur, as, nearing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her mate comes careering,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her pride, and her lover;&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He comes&mdash;and her breathing<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her rapture is telling;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How his antlers are wreathing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His white haunch, how swelling!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">High chief of Bendorain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He seems, as adoring<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His hind, he comes roaring<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To visit her dwelling.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'Twere endless my singing<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How the mountain is teeming<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With thousands, that bringing<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Each a high chief's<a name="FNanchor_111_111" id="FNanchor_111_111"></a><a href="#Footnote_111_111" class="fnanchor">[111]</a> proud seeming,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With his hind, and her gala<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of younglings, that follow<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O'er mountain and beala,<a name="FNanchor_112_112" id="FNanchor_112_112"></a><a href="#Footnote_112_112" class="fnanchor">[112]</a><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All lightsome are beaming.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When that lightfoot so airy,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her race is pursuing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh, what vision saw e'er a<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Feat of flight like her doing?<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_340" id="Page_340">[Pg 340]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">She springs, and the spreading grass<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Scarce feels her treading,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It were fleet foot that sped in<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Twice the time that she flew in.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The gallant array!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How the marshes they spurn,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In the frisk of their play,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the wheelings they turn,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As the cloud of the mind<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They would distance behind,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And give years to the wind,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In the pride of their scorn!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'Tis the marrow of health<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In the forest to lie,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where, nooking in stealth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They enjoy her<a name="FNanchor_113_113" id="FNanchor_113_113"></a><a href="#Footnote_113_113" class="fnanchor">[113]</a> supply,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her fosterage breeding<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A race never needing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Save the milk of her feeding,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From a breast never dry.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her hill-grass they suckle,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her mammets<a name="FNanchor_114_114" id="FNanchor_114_114"></a><a href="#Footnote_114_114" class="fnanchor">[114]</a> they swill,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And in wantonness chuckle<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O'er tempest and chill;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With their ankles so light,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And their girdles<a name="FNanchor_115_115" id="FNanchor_115_115"></a><a href="#Footnote_115_115" class="fnanchor">[115]</a> of white,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And their bodies so bright<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With the drink of the rill.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_341" id="Page_341">[Pg 341]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">Through the grassy glen sporting<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In murmurless glee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor snow-drift nor fortune<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shall urge them to flee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Save to seek their repose<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In the clefts of the knowes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the depths of the howes<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of their own Eas-an-ti.<a name="FNanchor_116_116" id="FNanchor_116_116"></a><a href="#Footnote_116_116" class="fnanchor">[116]</a><br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>URLAR.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">In the forest den, the deer<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Makes, as best befits, his lair,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where is plenty, and to spare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of her grassy feast.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There she browses free<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On herbage of the lea,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or marsh grass, daintily,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Until her haunch is greased.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her drink is of the well,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where the water-cresses swell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor with the flowing shell<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is the toper better pleased.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The bent makes nobler cheer,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or the rashes of the mere,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Than all the creagh that e'er<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Gave surfeit to a guest.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Come, see her table spread;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The <i>sorach</i><a name="FNanchor_117_117" id="FNanchor_117_117"></a><a href="#Footnote_117_117" class="fnanchor">[117]</a> sweet display'd<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The <i>ealvi</i>,<a name="FNanchor_118_118" id="FNanchor_118_118"></a><a href="#Footnote_118_118" class="fnanchor">[118]</a> and the head<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of the daisy stem;<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_342" id="Page_342">[Pg 342]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">The <i>dorach</i><a name="FNanchor_119_119" id="FNanchor_119_119"></a><a href="#Footnote_119_119" class="fnanchor">[119]</a> crested, sleek,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And ringed with many a streak,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Presents her pastures meek,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Profusely by the stream.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Such the luxuries<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That plump their noble size,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the herd entice<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To revel in the howes.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nobler haunches never sat on<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Pride of grease, than when they batten<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On the forest links, and fatten<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On the herbs of their carouse.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh, 'tis pleasant, in the gloaming,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When the supper-time<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Calls all their hosts from roaming,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To see their social prime;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And when the shadows gather,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They lair on native heather,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor shelter from the weather<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Need, but the knolls behind.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Dread or dark is none;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Their 's the mountain throne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Height and slope their own,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The gentle mountain kind;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Pleasant is the grace<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of their hue, and dappled dress,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And an ark in their distress,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In Bendorain dear they find.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_343" id="Page_343">[Pg 343]</a></span></div></div>
+
+
+<h4>SIUBHAL.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">So brilliant thy hue<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With tendril and flow'ret,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The grace of the view,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What land can o'erpower it?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thou mountain of beauty,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Methinks it might suit thee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The homage of beauty<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To claim as a queen.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What needs it? Adoring<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thy reign, we see pouring<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The wealth of their store in<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Already, I ween.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The seasons&mdash;scarce roll'd once,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Their gifts are twice told&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the months, they unfold<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On thy bosom their dower,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With profusion so rare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ne'er was clothing so fair,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor was jewelling e'er<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Like the bud and the flower<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of the groves on thy breast,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where rejoices to rest<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His magnificent crest,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The mountain-cock, shrilling<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In quick time, his note;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the clans of the grot<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With melody's note,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Their numbers are trilling.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No foot can compare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In the dance of the green,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With the roebuck's young heir;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And here he is seen<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_344" id="Page_344">[Pg 344]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">With his deftness of speed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And his sureness of tread,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And his bend of the head,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And his freedom of spring!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Over corrie careers he,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The wood-cover clears he,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And merrily steers he<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With bound, and with fling,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As he spurns from his stern<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The heather and fern,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And dives in the dern<a name="FNanchor_120_120" id="FNanchor_120_120"></a><a href="#Footnote_120_120" class="fnanchor">[120]</a><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of the wilderness deep;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or, anon, with a strain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And a twang of each vein<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He revels amain<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'Mid the cliffs of the steep.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With the burst of a start<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When the flame of his heart<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Impels to depart,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How he distances all!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Two bounds at a leap,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The brown hillocks to sweep,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His appointment to keep<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With the doe, at her call.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With her following, the roe<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From the danger of ken<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Couches inly, and low,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In the haunts of the glen;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ever watchful to hear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ever active to peer,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ever deft to career,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All ear, vision, and limb.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_345" id="Page_345">[Pg 345]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">And though Cult<a name="FNanchor_121_121" id="FNanchor_121_121"></a><a href="#Footnote_121_121" class="fnanchor">[121]</a> and Cuchullin,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With their horses and following,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Should rush to her dwelling,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And our prince<a name="FNanchor_122_122" id="FNanchor_122_122"></a><a href="#Footnote_122_122" class="fnanchor">[122]</a> in his trim,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They might vainly aspire<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Without rifle and fire<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To ruffle or nigh her,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her mantle to dim.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Stark-footed, lively,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ever capering naively<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With motion alive, aye,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And wax-white, in shine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When her startle betrays<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That the hounds are in chase,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The same as the base<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is the rocky decline&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She puffs from her chest,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And she ambles her crest<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And disdain is express'd<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In her nostril and eye;&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That eye&mdash;how it winks!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Like a sunbeam it blinks,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And it glows, and it sinks,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And is jealous and shy!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A mountaineer lynx,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Like her race that 's gone by.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4>CRUNLUATH (FINALE).</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Her lodge is in the valley&mdash;here<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No huntsman, void of notion,<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_346" id="Page_346">[Pg 346]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">Should hurry on the fallow deer,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But steal on her with caution;&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With wary step and watchfulness<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To stalk her to her resting place,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Insures the gallant wight's success,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Before she is in motion.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The hunter bold should follow then,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By bog, and rock, and hollow, then,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And nestle in the gulley, then,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And watch with deep devotion<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The shadows on the benty grass,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And how they come, and how they pass;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor must he stir, with gesture rash,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To quicken her emotion.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With nerve and eye so wary, sir,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That straight his piece may carry, sir,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He marks with care the quarry, sir,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The muzzle to repose on;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And now, the knuckle is applied,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The flint is struck, the priming tried,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is fired, the volley has replied,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And reeks in high commotion;&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Was better powder ne'er to flint,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor trustier wadding of the lint&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And so we strike a telling dint,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Well done, my own Nic-Coisean!<a name="FNanchor_123_123" id="FNanchor_123_123"></a><a href="#Footnote_123_123" class="fnanchor">[123]</a><br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_347" id="Page_347">[Pg 347]</a></span></div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="THE_BARD_TO_HIS_MUSKET124" id="THE_BARD_TO_HIS_MUSKET124"></a>THE BARD TO HIS MUSKET.<a name="FNanchor_124_124" id="FNanchor_124_124"></a><a href="#Footnote_124_124" class="fnanchor">[124]</a></h3>
+
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>Macintyre acted latterly as a constable of the City Guard of
+Edinburgh, a situation procured him by the Earl of Breadalbane,
+at his own special request; that benevolent nobleman having
+inquired of the bard what he could do for him to render him
+independent in his now advanced years. His salary as a peace-officer
+was sixpence a-day; but the poet was so abundantly satisfied
+with the attainment of his position and endowments, that he
+gave expression to his feelings of satisfaction in a piece of
+minstrelsy, which in the original ranks among his best productions.
+Of this ode we are enabled to present a faithful
+metrical translation, quite in the spirit of the original, as far as
+conversion of the Gaelic into the Scottish idiom is practicable.
+The version was kindly undertaken at our request by Mr
+William Sinclair, the ingenious author of "Poems of the Fancy
+and the Affections," who has appropriately adapted it to the lively
+tune, "Alister M'Alister." The song, remarks Mr Sinclair, is
+much in the spirit, though in a more humorous strain, of the
+famous Sword Song, beginning in the translation, "Come forth,
+my glittering Bride," composed by Theodore K&ouml;rner of Dresden,
+and the last and most remarkable of his patriotic productions,
+wherein the soldier addresses his sword as his bride, thereby
+giving expression to the most glowing sentiments of patriotism.
+Macintyre addresses as his wife the musket which he carried as
+an officer of the guard; and is certainly as enthusiastic in praise
+of his new acquisition, as ever was love-sick swain in eulogy of
+the most attractive fair one.</p></div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Oh! mony a turn of woe and weal<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">May happen to a Highlan' man;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Though he fall in love he soon may feel<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He cannot get the fancied one;<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_348" id="Page_348">[Pg 348]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">The first I loved in time that 's past,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I courted twenty years, ochone!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But she forsook me at the last,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Duncan then was left alone.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">To Edinbro' I forthwith hied<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To seek a sweetheart to my mind,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An', if I could, to find a bride<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For the fause love I left behind;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Said Captain Campbell of the Guard,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"I ken a widow secretly,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An' I 'll try, as she 's no that ill faur'd,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To put her, Duncan, in your way."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">As was his wont, I trow, did he<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Fulfil his welcome promise true,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He gave the widow unto me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And all her portion with her too;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And whosoe'er may ask her name,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And her surname also may desire,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They call her Janet<a name="FNanchor_125_125" id="FNanchor_125_125"></a><a href="#Footnote_125_125" class="fnanchor">[125]</a>&mdash;great her fame&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An' 'twas George who was her grandsire.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_349" id="Page_349">[Pg 349]</a></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">She 's quiet, an' affable, an' free,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No vexing gloom or look at hand,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As high in rank and in degree<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As any lady in the land;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She 's my support and my relief,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Since e'er she join'd me, any how;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Great is the cureless cause of grief<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To him who has not got her now!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Nic-Coisean<a name="FNanchor_126_126" id="FNanchor_126_126"></a><a href="#Footnote_126_126" class="fnanchor">[126]</a> I 've forsaken quite,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Altho' she liveth still at ease&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An' allow the crested stags to fight<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And wander wheresoe'er they please,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A young wife I have chosen now,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which I repent not any where,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I am not wanting wealth, I trow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Since ever I espoused the fair.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I pass my word of honour bright&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Most excellent I do her call;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In her I ne'er, in any light,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Discover'd any fault at all.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She is stately, fine, an' straight, an' sound,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Without a hidden fault, my friend;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In her, defect I never found,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor yet a blemish, twist, or bend.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When needy folk are pinch'd, alas!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For money in a great degree;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ah, George's daughter&mdash;generous lass&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ne'er lets my pockets empty be;<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_350" id="Page_350">[Pg 350]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">She keepeth me in drink, and stays<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By me in ale-houses and all,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An' at once, without a word, she pays<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For every stoup I choose to call!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">An' every turn I bid her do<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She does it with a willing grace;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She never tells me aught untrue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor story false, with lying face;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She keeps my rising family<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As well as I could e'er desire,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Although no labour I do try,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor dirty work for love or hire.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I labour'd once laboriously,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Although no riches I amass'd;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A menial I disdain'd to be,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An' keep my vow unto the last.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I have ceased to labour in the lan',<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Since e'er I noticed to my wife,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That the idle and contented man<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Endureth to the longest life.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">'Tis my musket&mdash;loving wife, indeed&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In whom I faithfully believe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She 's able still to earn my bread,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An' Duncan she will ne'er deceive;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I 'll have no lack of linens fair,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An' plenty clothes to serve my turn,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An' trust me that all worldly care<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now gives me not the least concern.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_351" id="Page_351">[Pg 351]</a></span></div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="JOHN_MACODRUM" id="JOHN_MACODRUM"></a>JOHN MACODRUM.</h2>
+
+
+<p>Jan Macodrum, the Bard of Uist, was patronised by
+an eminent judge of merit, Sir James Macdonald of Skye,&mdash;of
+whom, after a distinguished career at Oxford, such
+expectations were formed, that on his premature death
+at Rome he was lamented as the Marcellus of Scotland.</p>
+
+<p>Macodrum's name is cited in the Ossianic controversy,
+upon Sir James's report, as a person whose mind was
+stored with Ossianic poetry, of which Macpherson
+gave to the world the far-famed specimens. A humorous
+story is told of Macodrum (who was a noted humorist)
+having trifled a little with the translator when he
+applied for a sample of the old Fingalian, in the words,
+"Hast thou got anything of, or on, (equivalent in Gaelic
+to <i>hast thou anything to get of</i>) the Fingalian heroes?"
+"If I have," quoth Macodrum, "I fear it is now irrecoverable."</p>
+
+<p>Macodrum, whose real patronymic is understood to
+have been Macdonald, lived to lament his patron in
+elegiac strains&mdash;a fact that brings the time in which he
+flourished down to 1766.</p>
+
+<p>His poem entitled the "Song of Age," is admired
+by his countrymen for its rapid succession of images (a
+little too mixed or abrupt on some occasions), its descriptive
+power, and its neatness and flow of versification.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_352" id="Page_352">[Pg 352]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="ORAN_NA_H-AOIS" id="ORAN_NA_H-AOIS"></a>ORAN NA H-AOIS,</h3>
+
+<h4>THE SONG OF AGE.</h4>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Should my numbers essay to enliven a lay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The notes would betray the languor of woe;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My heart is o'erthrown, like the rush of the stone<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That, unfix'd from its throne, seeks the valley below.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The <i>veteran of war</i>, that knows not to spare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And offers us ne'er the respite of peace,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Resistless comes on, and we yield with a groan,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For under the sun is no hope of release.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'Tis a sadness I ween, how the glow and the sheen<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of the rosiest mien from their glory subside;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How hurries the hour on our race, that shall lower<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The arm of our power, and the step of our pride.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As scatter and fail, on the wing of the gale,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The mist of the vale, and the cloud of the sky,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So, dissolving our bliss, comes the hour of distress,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Old age, with that face of aversion to joy.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh! heavy of head, and silent as lead,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And unbreathed as the dead, is the person of Age;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Not a joint, not a nerve&mdash;so prostrate their verve&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In the contest shall serve, or the feat to engage.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To leap with the best, or the billow to breast,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or the race prize to wrest, were but effort in vain;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On the message of death pours an Egypt of wrath,<a name="FNanchor_127_127" id="FNanchor_127_127"></a><a href="#Footnote_127_127" class="fnanchor">[127]</a><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The fever's hot breath, the dart-shot of pain.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_353" id="Page_353">[Pg 353]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">Ah, desolate eld! the wretch that is held<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By thy grapple, must yield thee his dearest supplies;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The friends of our love at thy call must remove,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What boots how they strove from thy bands to arise?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They leave us, deplore as it wills us,&mdash;our store,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Our strength at the core, and our vigour of mind;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Remembrance forsakes us, distraction o'ertakes us,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Every love that awakes us, we leave it behind.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thou spoiler of grace, that changest the face<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To hasten its race on the route to the tomb,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To whom nothing is dear, unaffection'd the ear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Emotion is sere, and expression is dumb;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of spirit how void, thy passions how cloy'd,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thy pith how destroy'd, and thy pleasure how gone!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To the pang of thy cries not an echo replies,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Even sympathy dies&mdash;and thy helper is none.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We see thee how stripp'd of each bloom that equipp'd<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thy flourish, till nipp'd the winter thy rose;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Till the spoiler made bare the scalp of the hair,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the ivory<a name="FNanchor_128_128" id="FNanchor_128_128"></a><a href="#Footnote_128_128" class="fnanchor">[128]</a> tare from its sockets' repose.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thy skinny, thy cold, thy visageless mould,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Its disgust is untold, and its surface is dim;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What a signal of wrack is the wrinkle's dull track,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the bend of the back, and the limp of the limb!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thou leper of fear&mdash;thou niggard of cheer&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where glory is dear, shall thy welcome be found?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thou contempt of the brave&mdash;oh, rather the grave,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Than to pine as the slave that thy fetters have bound.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_354" id="Page_354">[Pg 354]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">Like the dusk of the day is thy colour of gray,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thou foe of the lay, and thou phantom of gloom;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thou bane of delight&mdash;when thy shivering plight,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And thy grizzle of white,<a name="FNanchor_129_129" id="FNanchor_129_129"></a><a href="#Footnote_129_129" class="fnanchor">[129]</a> and thy crippleness, come<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To beg at the door; ah, woe for the poor,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the greeting unsure that grudges their bread;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All unwelcome they call&mdash;from the hut to the hall<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The confession of all is, "<i>'Tis time he were dead</i>!"<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>The picturesque portion of the description here terminates.
+With respect to the moral and religious application, it is but just
+to the poet to say, that before the close he appeals in pathetic
+terms to the young, warning them not to boast of their strength,
+or to abuse it; and that he concludes his lay with the sentiment,
+that whatever may be the ills of "age," there are worse that await
+an unrepenting death, and a suffering eternity.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_355" id="Page_355">[Pg 355]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="NORMAN_MACLEOD" id="NORMAN_MACLEOD"></a>NORMAN MACLEOD;<br />
+<span class="smcap" style="font-size: 75%;">Or, Tormaid Ban.</span></h2>
+
+
+<p>Single-speech Hamilton may be said to have had his
+<i>marrow</i> in a Highland bard, nearly his contemporary,
+whose one effort was attended with more lasting popularity
+than the sole oration of that celebrated person.
+The clan song of the Mackenzies is the composition in
+question, and its author is now ascertained to have been
+a gentleman, or farmer of the better class, of the name
+of Norman Macleod, a native of Assynt<a name="FNanchor_130_130" id="FNanchor_130_130"></a><a href="#Footnote_130_130" class="fnanchor">[130]</a> in Sutherland.
+The most memorable particular known of this person,
+besides the production of his poetic effort, is his having
+been the father of a Glasgow professor,<a name="FNanchor_131_131" id="FNanchor_131_131"></a><a href="#Footnote_131_131" class="fnanchor">[131]</a> whom we remember
+occupying the chair of Church History in the
+university in very advanced age, about 1814, assisted
+by a helper and successor; and of another son, who was
+the respected minister of Rogart till towards the end of
+last century.</p>
+
+<p>The date of "Caberfae" is not exactly ascertained.
+It was composed during the exile of Lord Seaforth, but,
+we imagine, before the '45, in which he did not take
+part, and while Macshimei (Lord Lovat) still passed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_356" id="Page_356">[Pg 356]</a></span>
+for a Whig. In Mackenzie's excellent collection (p.
+361), a later date is assigned to the production.</p>
+
+<p>The Seaforth tenantry, who (after the manner of the
+clans) privately supported their chief in his exile, appear
+to have been much aggrieved by some proceedings of
+the loyalist, Monro of Fowlis, who, along with his
+neighbour of Culloden and Lovat, were probably acting
+under government commission, in which the interests of
+the crown were seconded by personal or family antagonism.
+The loyal family of Sutherland, who seem by
+grant or lease to have had an interest in the estates,
+also come in for a share of the bard's resentment.</p>
+
+<p>All this forms the subject of "Caberfae," which,
+without having much meaning or poetry, served, like
+the celebrated "Lillibulero," to animate armies, and
+inflame party spirit to a degree that can scarcely be
+imagined. The repetition of "the Staghead, when
+rises his cabar on," which concludes every strophe, is
+enough at any time to bring a Mackenzie to his feet, or
+into the forefront of battle,&mdash;being a simple allusion to
+the Mackenzie crest, allegorised into an emblem of the
+stag at bay, or ready in his ire to push at his assailant.
+The cabar is the horn, or, rather, the "tine of the first-head,"&mdash;no
+ignoble emblem, certainly, of clannish fury
+and impetuosity. The difficulty of the measure compels
+us to the use of certain metrical freedoms, and also of
+some Gaelic words, for which is craved the reader's
+indulgence.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_357" id="Page_357">[Pg 357]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<h3><a name="CABERFAE" id="CABERFAE"></a>CABERFAE,</h3>
+
+<h4>THE STAGHEAD.<a name="FNanchor_132_132" id="FNanchor_132_132"></a><a href="#Footnote_132_132" class="fnanchor">[132]</a></h4>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">A health to Caberfae,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A toast, and a cheery one,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That soon return he may,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Though long and far his tarrying.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The death of shame befal me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Be riven off my eididh<a name="FNanchor_133_133" id="FNanchor_133_133"></a><a href="#Footnote_133_133" class="fnanchor">[133]</a> too,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But my fancy hears thy call&mdash;we<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Should all be <i>up and ready, O</i>!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'Tis I have seen thy weapon keen,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thine arm, inaction scorning,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Assign their dues to the Munroes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Their <i>welcome</i> in the morning.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor stood the C&aacute;tach<a name="FNanchor_134_134" id="FNanchor_134_134"></a><a href="#Footnote_134_134" class="fnanchor">[134]</a> to his bratach<a name="FNanchor_135_135" id="FNanchor_135_135"></a><a href="#Footnote_135_135" class="fnanchor">[135]</a><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For dread of a belabouring,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When up gets the Staghead,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And raises his cabar on.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Woe to the man of Folais,<a name="FNanchor_136_136" id="FNanchor_136_136"></a><a href="#Footnote_136_136" class="fnanchor">[136]</a><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When he to fight must challenge thee;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor better fared the Roses<a name="FNanchor_137_137" id="FNanchor_137_137"></a><a href="#Footnote_137_137" class="fnanchor">[137]</a><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That lent <i>Monro</i> their valiancy.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Granndach<a name="FNanchor_138_138" id="FNanchor_138_138"></a><a href="#Footnote_138_138" class="fnanchor">[138]</a> and the Frazer,<a name="FNanchor_139_139" id="FNanchor_139_139"></a><a href="#Footnote_139_139" class="fnanchor">[139]</a><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They tarried not the melee in;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Fled Forbes,<a name="FNanchor_140_140" id="FNanchor_140_140"></a><a href="#Footnote_140_140" class="fnanchor">[140]</a> in dismay, sir,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Culloden-wards, undallying.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_358" id="Page_358">[Pg 358]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">Away they ran, while firm remain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Not one to three, retiring so,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The earl,<a name="FNanchor_141_141" id="FNanchor_141_141"></a><a href="#Footnote_141_141" class="fnanchor">[141]</a> the craven, took to haven,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Scarce a pistol firing, O!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Mackay<a name="FNanchor_142_142" id="FNanchor_142_142"></a><a href="#Footnote_142_142" class="fnanchor">[142]</a> of Spoils, his heart recoils,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He cries in haste his cabul<a name="FNanchor_143_143" id="FNanchor_143_143"></a><a href="#Footnote_143_143" class="fnanchor">[143]</a> on,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He flies&mdash;as soars the Staghead,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And raises his cabar on.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Like feather'd creatures flying,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That in the hill-mist shiver,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In haste for refuge hieing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To the meadow or the river&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So, port they sought, and took to boat,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Bewailing what had happened them,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To trust was rash, the missing flash<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of the rusty guns that weapon'd them.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The coracle of many a skull,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The relics of his neighbour, on,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Monro retreats<a name="FNanchor_144_144" id="FNanchor_144_144"></a><a href="#Footnote_144_144" class="fnanchor">[144]</a>&mdash;for Staghead<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is raising his cabar on.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I own my expectation,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'Tis this has roused my apathy,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That He who rules creation<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">May change the dismal hap of thee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And hasten to restore thee<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In safety from thy danger,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To thine own, in joy and glory,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To save us from the stranger.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_359" id="Page_359">[Pg 359]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">With princely grace to give redress,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor a taunt to suffer back again;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The fell Monro has felt thy blow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And should he dare attack again,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then as he flew, he 'll run anew,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The flames to quench he 'll labour on,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of castle fired&mdash;when Staghead<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">High raises his cabar on!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I 've seen thee o'er the lowly,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A gracious chieftain ever,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The C&aacute;tach[145] self below thee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the Gallach<a name="FNanchor_145_145" id="FNanchor_145_145"></a><a href="#Footnote_145_145" class="fnanchor">[145]</a> cower'd for cover;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But ever more their striving,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When claim'd respect thine eye,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thy scourge corrected, driving<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To other lands to fly.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thy loyal crew of clansmen true,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No panic fear shall turn them,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With steel-cap, blade, and <i>skene</i> array'd,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Their banning foes they spurn them.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Clan-Shimei<a name="FNanchor_146_146" id="FNanchor_146_146"></a><a href="#Footnote_146_146" class="fnanchor">[146]</a> then may dare them,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They 'll fly, had each a sabre on,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Needs but a look&mdash;when Staghead<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Once raises his cabar on.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Mounts not the wing a fouler thing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Than thy vaunted crest, the eagle,<a name="FNanchor_147_147" id="FNanchor_147_147"></a><a href="#Footnote_147_147" class="fnanchor">[147]</a> O!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Inglorious chief! to boast the thief,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That forays with the beagle, O!<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_360" id="Page_360">[Pg 360]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">For shame! preferr'd that ravening bird!<a name="FNanchor_148_148" id="FNanchor_148_148"></a><a href="#Footnote_148_148" class="fnanchor">[148]</a><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My song shall raise the mountain-deer;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The prey he scorns, the carcase spurns,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He loves the cress, the fountain cheer.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His lodge is in the forest;&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While carion-flesh enticing<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thy greedy maw, thou buriest<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thou kite of prey! thy claws in<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The putrid corse of famish'd horse,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The greedy hound a-striving<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To rival thee in gluttony,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Both at the bowels riving.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thou called the <i>true bird</i>!<a name="FNanchor_149_149" id="FNanchor_149_149"></a><a href="#Footnote_149_149" class="fnanchor">[149]</a>&mdash;Never,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thou foster child of evil,<a name="FNanchor_150_150" id="FNanchor_150_150"></a><a href="#Footnote_150_150" class="fnanchor">[150]</a> ha!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How ill match with thy feather<a name="FNanchor_151_151" id="FNanchor_151_151"></a><a href="#Footnote_151_151" class="fnanchor">[151]</a><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The talons<a name="FNanchor_152_152" id="FNanchor_152_152"></a><a href="#Footnote_152_152" class="fnanchor">[152]</a> of thy devilry!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But when thy foray preys on<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Our harmless flocks, so dastardly,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How often has the shepherd<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With trusty baton master'd thee;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Well in thy fright hast timed thy flight,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Else, not alone, belabouring,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He 'd gored thee with the Staghead,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Up-raising his cabar on.<a name="FNanchor_153_153" id="FNanchor_153_153"></a><a href="#Footnote_153_153" class="fnanchor">[153]</a><br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_361" id="Page_361">[Pg 361]</a></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Woe worth the world, deceiver&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So false, so fair of seeming!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We 've seen the noble Siphort<a name="FNanchor_154_154" id="FNanchor_154_154"></a><a href="#Footnote_154_154" class="fnanchor">[154]</a><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With all his war-notes<a name="FNanchor_155_155" id="FNanchor_155_155"></a><a href="#Footnote_155_155" class="fnanchor">[155]</a> screaming;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When not a chief in Albain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Mac-Ailein's<a name="FNanchor_156_156" id="FNanchor_156_156"></a><a href="#Footnote_156_156" class="fnanchor">[156]</a> self though backing him,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Could face his frown&mdash;as Staghead<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Arose with his cabar on.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">To join thy might, when call'd the right,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A gallant army springing on,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Would rise, from Assint to the crags<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of Scalpa, rescue bringing on.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Each man upon, true-flinted gun,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Steel glaive, and trusty dagaichean;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With the Island Lord of Sleit&egrave;,<a name="FNanchor_157_157" id="FNanchor_157_157"></a><a href="#Footnote_157_157" class="fnanchor">[157]</a><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When up rose thy cabar on!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Came too the men of Muideart,<a name="FNanchor_158_158" id="FNanchor_158_158"></a><a href="#Footnote_158_158" class="fnanchor">[158]</a><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While stream'd their flag its bravery;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Their gleaming weapons, blue-dyed,<a name="FNanchor_159_159" id="FNanchor_159_159"></a><a href="#Footnote_159_159" class="fnanchor">[159]</a><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That havock'd on the cavalry.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Macalister,<a name="FNanchor_160_160" id="FNanchor_160_160"></a><a href="#Footnote_160_160" class="fnanchor">[160]</a> Mackinnon,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With many a flashing trigger there,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The foemen rushing in on,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Resistless shew'd their vigour there.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">May fortune free thee&mdash;may we see thee<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Again in Br&agrave;un,<a name="FNanchor_161_161" id="FNanchor_161_161"></a><a href="#Footnote_161_161" class="fnanchor">[161]</a> the turreted,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Girt with thy clan! And not a man<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But will get the scorn he merited.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_362" id="Page_362">[Pg 362]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">Then wine will play, and usquebae<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From flaggons, and from badalan,<a name="FNanchor_162_162" id="FNanchor_162_162"></a><a href="#Footnote_162_162" class="fnanchor">[162]</a><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And pipers scream&mdash;when Staghead<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">High raises his cabar on.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_363" id="Page_363">[Pg 363]</a></span></div></div>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p class='center'>END OF VOL. I.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="GLOSSARY" id="GLOSSARY"></a>GLOSSARY.</h2>
+
+
+<p><i>A-low</i>, on fire.</p>
+
+<p><i>Ava</i>, at all.</p>
+
+<p><i>Ayont</i>, beyond.</p>
+
+<p><i>Ban</i>, swear.</p>
+
+<p><i>Bang</i>, to change place hastily.</p>
+
+<p><i>Bangster</i>, a violent person.</p>
+
+<p><i>Bawks</i>, the cross-beams of a roof.</p>
+
+<p><i>Bein</i>, good, suitable.</p>
+
+<p><i>Bicker</i>, a dish for holding liquor.</p>
+
+<p><i>Boddle</i>, an old Scottish coin&mdash;value the third of a penny.</p>
+
+<p><i>Boggie</i>, a marsh.</p>
+
+<p><i>Brag</i>, vaunt.</p>
+
+<p><i>Braw</i>, gaily dressed.</p>
+
+<p><i>Busk</i>, to attire oneself.</p>
+
+<p><i>Buss</i>, bush.</p>
+
+<p><i>Cantie</i>, cheerful.</p>
+
+<p><i>Castocks</i>, the pith of stalks of cabbages.</p>
+
+<p><i>Caw</i>, to drive.</p>
+
+<p><i>Chat</i>, talk.</p>
+
+<p><i>Chuckies</i>, chickens.</p>
+
+<p><i>Chuffy</i>, clownish.</p>
+
+<p><i>Clavering</i>, talking idly.</p>
+
+<p><i>Cleeding</i>, clothing.</p>
+
+<p><i>Clishmaclavers</i>, idle talk.</p>
+
+<p><i>Clocksie</i>, vivacious.</p>
+
+<p><i>Cock-up</i>, a hat or cap turned up before.</p>
+
+<p><i>Coft</i>, purchased.</p>
+
+<p><i>Cogie</i>, a hollow wooden vessel.</p>
+
+<p><i>Coozy</i>, warm.</p>
+
+<p><i>Cosie</i>, snug, comfortable.</p>
+
+<p><i>Cowt</i>, cattle.</p>
+
+<p><i>Creel</i>, a basket.</p>
+
+<p><i>Croft</i>, a tenement of land.</p>
+
+<p><i>Croon</i>, to make a plaintive sound.</p>
+
+<p><i>Crouse</i>, brisk.</p>
+
+<p><i>Crusie</i>, a small lamp.</p>
+
+<p><i>Cuddle</i>, embrace.</p>
+
+<p><i>Curpin</i>, the crupper of a saddle.</p>
+
+<p><i>Cuttie</i>, a short pipe.</p>
+
+<p><i>Daff</i>, sport.</p>
+
+<p><i>Daut</i>, caress.</p>
+
+<p><i>Daud</i>, blow.</p>
+
+<p><i>Daunder</i>, to walk thoughtlessly.</p>
+
+<p><i>Dautit</i>, fondled.</p>
+
+<p><i>Dirdum</i>, tumult.</p>
+
+<p><i>Disjasket</i>, having appearance of decay.</p>
+
+<p><i>Doited</i>, stupid.</p>
+
+<p><i>Dool</i>, grief.</p>
+
+<p><i>Dorty</i>, a foolish urchin.</p>
+
+<p><i>Douf</i>, dull.</p>
+
+<p><i>Dowie</i>, sad.</p>
+
+<p><i>Draigle</i>, draggle.</p>
+
+<p><i>Dringing</i>, delaying.</p>
+
+<p><i>Drone</i>, sound of bagpipes.</p>
+
+<p><i>Dung</i>, defeated.</p>
+
+<p><i>Eerie</i>, timorous.</p>
+
+<p><i>Eident</i>, wary.</p>
+
+<p><i>Elf</i>, a puny creature.</p>
+
+<p><i>Fashious</i>, troublesome.</p>
+
+<p><i>Fauld</i>, a fold.</p>
+
+<p><i>Ferlies</i>, remarkable things.</p>
+
+<p><i>Fleyt</i>, frightened.</p>
+
+<p><i>Fogie</i>, a stupid old person.</p>
+
+<p><i>Foumart</i>, a pole-cat.</p>
+
+<p><i>Fraise</i>, flattery.</p>
+
+<p><i>Frumpish</i>, crumpled.</p>
+
+<p><i>Gabbit</i>, a person prone to idle talk.</p>
+
+<p><i>Gart</i>, compelled.</p>
+
+<p><i>Giggle</i>, unmeaning laughter.</p>
+
+<p><i>Gin</i>, if.</p>
+
+<p><i>Girse</i>, grass.</p>
+
+<p><i>Glaikit</i>, stupid.</p>
+
+<p><i>Glamrie</i>, the power of enchantment.</p>
+
+<p><i>Glower</i>, stare.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_364" id="Page_364">[Pg 364]</a></span></p>
+
+<p><i>Grusome</i>, frightful.</p>
+
+<p><i>Grist</i>, the fee paid at the mill for grinding.</p>
+
+<p><i>Gutchir</i>, grandfather.</p>
+
+<p><i>Gutters</i>, mud, wet dust.</p>
+
+<p><i>Hain</i>, save, preserve.</p>
+
+<p><i>Hap</i>, cover.</p>
+
+<p><i>Havens</i>, endowments.</p>
+
+<p><i>Henny</i>, honey, a familiar term of affection among the peasantry.</p>
+
+<p><i>Hinkum</i>, that which is put up in hanks or balls, as thread.</p>
+
+<p><i>Howe</i>, a hollow.</p>
+
+<p><i>Hyne</i>, hence.</p>
+
+<p><i>Kail</i>, cabbages, colewort.</p>
+
+<p><i>Kebbuck</i>, a cheese.</p>
+
+<p><i>Keil</i>, red clay, used for marking.</p>
+
+<p><i>Ken</i>, know.</p>
+
+<p><i>Kenspeckle</i>, having a singular appearance.</p>
+
+<p><i>Leal</i>, honest, faithful.</p>
+
+<p><i>Leese me</i>, pleased am I with.</p>
+
+<p><i>Lyart</i>, gray-haired.</p>
+
+<p><i>Loof</i>, the palm of the hand.</p>
+
+<p><i>Lowin</i>, warm.</p>
+
+<p><i>Lucky, A</i>, an old woman.</p>
+
+<p><i>Luntin</i>, smoking.</p>
+
+<p><i>Mailin</i>, a farm.</p>
+
+<p><i>Maukin</i>, a hare.</p>
+
+<p><i>Mirk</i>, dark.</p>
+
+<p><i>Mishanter</i>, a sorry scrape.</p>
+
+<p><i>Mittens</i>, gloves without fingers.</p>
+
+<p><i>Mouldie</i>, crumbling.</p>
+
+<p><i>Mouls</i>, the earth of the grave.</p>
+
+<p><i>Mows</i>, easy.</p>
+
+<p><i>Mutch</i>, a woman's cap.</p>
+
+<p><i>Neip</i>, a turnip.</p>
+
+<p><i>Neive</i>, the closed fist.</p>
+
+<p><i>Nippen</i>, carried off surreptitiously.</p>
+
+<p><i>Ouk</i>, week.</p>
+
+<p><i>Owerlay</i>, a cravat.</p>
+
+<p><i>Perk</i>, push.</p>
+
+<p><i>Perlins</i>, women's ornaments.</p>
+
+<p><i>Poortith</i>, poverty.</p>
+
+<p><i>Preed</i>, tasted.</p>
+
+<p><i>Randy</i>, a scold, a shrew.</p>
+
+<p><i>Rate</i>, slander.</p>
+
+<p><i>Rink</i>, run about.</p>
+
+<p><i>Routh</i>, abundance.</p>
+
+<p><i>Rummulgumshin</i>, common sense.</p>
+
+<p><i>Sabbit</i>, sobbed.</p>
+
+<p><i>Scant</i>, scarce.</p>
+
+<p><i>Scartle</i>, a graip or fork.</p>
+
+<p><i>Scrimply</i>, barely.</p>
+
+<p><i>Scug</i>, shelter.</p>
+
+<p><i>Seer</i>, sure.</p>
+
+<p><i>Shaw</i>, a plantation.</p>
+
+<p><i>Shiel</i>, a sheep shed.</p>
+
+<p><i>Skeigh</i>, timorous.</p>
+
+<p><i>Skiffin</i>, moving lightly.</p>
+
+<p><i>Smeddum</i>, sagacity.</p>
+
+<p><i>Snooded</i>, the hair bound up.</p>
+
+<p><i>Spaewife,</i> a female fortune-teller.</p>
+
+<p><i>Spence</i>, a larder.</p>
+
+<p><i>Steenies</i>, guineas.</p>
+
+<p><i>Sud</i>, should.</p>
+
+<p><i>Sumph</i>, a soft person.</p>
+
+<p><i>Swankie</i>, a clever young fellow.</p>
+
+<p><i>Sweir</i>, indolent.</p>
+
+<p><i>Syne</i>, then.</p>
+
+<p><i>Tabbit</i>, benumbed.</p>
+
+<p><i>Tapsle-teerie</i>, topsyturvy.</p>
+
+<p><i>Ted</i>, toad.</p>
+
+<p><i>Thairms</i>, strings.</p>
+
+<p><i>Thowless</i>, thoughtless.</p>
+
+<p><i>Thraw</i>, twist.</p>
+
+<p><i>Tint</i>, lost.</p>
+
+<p><i>Tirl</i>, to uncover.</p>
+
+<p><i>Tocher</i>, dowry.</p>
+
+<p><i>Toss</i>, toast.</p>
+
+<p><i>Towmond</i>, a year.</p>
+
+<p><i>Trig</i>, neat, trim.</p>
+
+<p><i>Tryst</i>, appointment.</p>
+
+<p><i>Tyced</i>, made diversion.</p>
+
+<p><i>Vauntit</i>, boasted.</p>
+
+<p><i>Weel</i>, will.</p>
+
+<p><i>Whigmigmorum</i>, political ranting.</p>
+
+<p><i>Wile</i>, choice.</p>
+
+<p><i>Wist</i>, wished.</p>
+
+<p><i>Wizen</i>, the throat.</p>
+
+<p><i>Wow</i>, vow.</p>
+
+
+<p class='center' style="font-size: small;">EDINBURGH: PRINTED BY BALLANTYNE AND COMPANY.</p>
+
+
+<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_1" id="Footnote_1_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_1"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> This song was composed when Wilkes, Horne, and others, were exciting
+a commotion about liberty.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_2_2" id="Footnote_2_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_2"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> This tune requires O to be added at the end of each of the long lines,
+but in reading the song the O is better omitted.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_3_3" id="Footnote_3_3"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_3"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> Forbes's "Life of Beattie," vol. i. p. 375.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_4_4" id="Footnote_4_4"></a><a href="#FNanchor_4_4"><span class="label">[4]</span></a> Of the "Flowers of the Forest," two other versions appear in the Collections.
+That version beginning, "I've heard the lilting at our yow-milking,"
+is the composition of Miss Jane Elliot, the daughter of Sir Gilbert
+Elliot of Minto, Lord Justice-Clerk, who died in 1766. She composed the
+song about the middle of the century, in imitation of an old version to the
+same tune. The other version, which is the most popular of the three, with
+the opening line, "I 've seen the smiling of fortune beguiling," was also the
+composition of a lady, Miss Alison Rutherford; by marriage, Mrs Cockburn,
+wife of Mr Patrick Cockburn, advocate. Mrs Cockburn was a person of
+highly superior accomplishments. She associated with her learned contemporaries,
+by whom she was much esteemed, and died at Edinburgh in 1794,
+at an advanced age. "The forest" mentioned in the song comprehended
+the county of Selkirk, with portions of Peeblesshire and Lanarkshire. This
+was a hunting-forest of the Scottish kings.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_5_5" id="Footnote_5_5"></a><a href="#FNanchor_5_5"><span class="label">[5]</span></a> These lines were addressed by Mrs Hunter to her daughter, on the
+occasion of her marriage.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_6_6" id="Footnote_6_6"></a><a href="#FNanchor_6_6"><span class="label">[6]</span></a> These verses form a modernised version of the old and popular song,
+"Will ye gae to the ewe-bughts, Marion?" The air is extremely beautiful.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_7_7" id="Footnote_7_7"></a><a href="#FNanchor_7_7"><span class="label">[7]</span></a> The name of this old melody is, "The Bridegroom greets when the Sun
+gangs down."&mdash;See Stenhouse's Notes to Johnson's "Musical Museum," vol.
+iv. p. 280; the "Lives of the Lindsays," by Lord Lindsay, vol. ii., pp. 314,
+332, 392. Lond. 1849, 3 vols., 8vo.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_8_8" id="Footnote_8_8"></a><a href="#FNanchor_8_8"><span class="label">[8]</span></a> "She was entertaining a large party of distinguished guests at dinner,
+when a hitch occurred in the kitchen. The old servant came up behind her
+and whispered, 'My lady, you must tell another story&mdash;the second course
+won't be ready for five minutes!'"&mdash;Letter of General Lindsay to Lord
+Lindsay, "Lives of the Lindsays," vol. ii. p. 387.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_9_9" id="Footnote_9_9"></a><a href="#FNanchor_9_9"><span class="label">[9]</span></a> The Rev. William Leeves, of Wrington, to whose tune the ballad is now
+sung.&mdash;See an account of Mr Leeves' claims to the authorship of the tune,
+&amp;c., in Johnson's "Musical Museum;" Stenhouse's Notes, vol. iv. p. 231.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_10_10" id="Footnote_10_10"></a><a href="#FNanchor_10_10"><span class="label">[10]</span></a> We quote from an autobiography of the poet, the original of which is in
+the possession of one of his surviving friends. We have likewise to acknowledge
+our obligations to Dr Muschet, of Birkhill, near Stirling, for communicating
+some interesting letters of Macneill, addressed to his late father.
+The late Mr John Campbell, Writer to the Signet, had undertaken to supply
+a memoir for this work, partly from his own recollections of his deceased
+friend; but, before he could fulfil his promise, he was called to rest with
+his fathers. We have, however, taken advantage of his reminiscences of
+the bard, orally communicated to us. An intelligent abridgment of the
+autobiography appears in <i>Blackwood's Magazine</i>, vol. iv. p. 273. See
+likewise the <i>Encyclop&aelig;dia Britannica</i>, vol. xv. p. 307.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_11_11" id="Footnote_11_11"></a><a href="#FNanchor_11_11"><span class="label">[11]</span></a> "The Songs of Scotland, Ancient and Modern," by Allan Cunningham,
+vol. i. p. 242. London, 1825; 4 vols. 12mo.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_12_12" id="Footnote_12_12"></a><a href="#FNanchor_12_12"><span class="label">[12]</span></a> This song was first published, in May 1791, in <i>The Bee</i>, an Edinburgh
+periodical, conducted by Dr James Anderson.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_13_13" id="Footnote_13_13"></a><a href="#FNanchor_13_13"><span class="label">[13]</span></a> This beautiful ballad was first printed, in 1791, in <i>The Bee</i>. It is
+adapted to an old and sweet air, to which, however, very puerile words were
+attached.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_14_14" id="Footnote_14_14"></a><a href="#FNanchor_14_14"><span class="label">[14]</span></a> Mr Graham, of Gartmore, an intimate friend of Hector Macneill, composed
+a song, having a similar burden, the chorus proceeding thus:&mdash;
+</p>
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Then, tell me how to woo thee, love;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh, tell me how to woo thee!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For thy dear sake nae care I'll take,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Though ne'er another trow me."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<p>
+This was published by Sir Walter Scott, in the "Minstrelsy of the Scottish
+Border," as a production of the reign of Charles I.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_15_15" id="Footnote_15_15"></a><a href="#FNanchor_15_15"><span class="label">[15]</span></a> The first stanza of this song, along with a second, which is unsuitable
+for insertion, has been ascribed, on the authority of Burns, to the Rev.
+John Clunie, minister of Borthwick, in Mid-Lothian, who died in 1819,
+aged sixty-two. Ritson, however, by prefixing the letters "J. D." to the
+original stanza would seem to point to a different author.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_16_16" id="Footnote_16_16"></a><a href="#FNanchor_16_16"><span class="label">[16]</span></a> This fine ballad was written by Macneill, to commemorate the death of
+his friend, Captain Stewart, a brave officer, betrothed to a young lady in
+Athole, who, in 1777, fell at the battle of Saratoga, in America. The words,
+which are adapted to an old Gaelic air, appear with music in Smith's
+"Scottish Minstrel," vol. iii. p. 28. The ballad, in the form given above,
+has been improved in several of the stanzas by the author, on his original version,
+published in Johnson's "Museum." See the "Museum," vol. iv. p. 238.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_17_17" id="Footnote_17_17"></a><a href="#FNanchor_17_17"><span class="label">[17]</span></a> Mora is the name of a small valley in Athole, so designated by the
+two lovers.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_18_18" id="Footnote_18_18"></a><a href="#FNanchor_18_18"><span class="label">[18]</span></a> This song was originally printed on a single sheet, by N. Stewart and
+Co., Edinburgh, in 1794, as the lament of a lady on the death of an officer. It
+does not appear in Macneill's "Poetical Works," but he asserted to Mr Stenhouse
+his claims to the authorship.&mdash;Johnson's "Museum," vol. iv. p. 323.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_19_19" id="Footnote_19_19"></a><a href="#FNanchor_19_19"><span class="label">[19]</span></a> The last verse of this song was added by John Hamilton. The song,
+on account of this addition, was not included by Macneill in the collected
+edition of his "Poetical Works." One of Miss Blamire's songs has the same
+opening line; and it has been conjectured by Mr Maxwell, the editor of her
+poems, that Macneill had been indebted to her song for suggesting his
+verses.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_20_20" id="Footnote_20_20"></a><a href="#FNanchor_20_20"><span class="label">[20]</span></a> From Albyn's "Anthology," vol. i. p. 42. Edinburgh, 1816, 4to.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_21_21" id="Footnote_21_21"></a><a href="#FNanchor_21_21"><span class="label">[21]</span></a> See Note to "Lady of the Lake."</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_22_22" id="Footnote_22_22"></a><a href="#FNanchor_22_22"><span class="label">[22]</span></a> See the <i>Encyclop&aelig;dia Britannica</i>, vol. xxi. p. 170.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_23_23" id="Footnote_23_23"></a><a href="#FNanchor_23_23"><span class="label">[23]</span></a> This song originally consisted of two stanzas, the third stanza being
+subsequently added by the author. It is adapted to a beautiful old air,
+"Logan Water," incongruously connected with some indecorous stanzas.
+Burns deemed Mayne's version an elder production of the Scottish muse, and
+attempted to modernise the song, but his edition is decidedly inferior. Other
+four stanzas have been added, by some anonymous versifier, to Mayne's
+verses, which first appeared in Duncan's "Encyclop&aelig;dia of Scottish, English,
+and Irish Songs," printed at Glasgow in 1836, 2 vols. 12mo. In those
+stanzas the lover is brought back to Logan braes, and consummates his
+union with his weeping shepherdess. The stream of Logan takes its rise
+among the hills separating the parishes of Lesmahago and Muirkirk, and,
+after a flow of eight miles, deposits its waters into the Nethan river.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_24_24" id="Footnote_24_24"></a><a href="#FNanchor_24_24"><span class="label">[24]</span></a> During the reign of Mary, Queen of Scots, a young lady, of great personal
+attractions and numerous accomplishments, named Helen Irving, daughter
+of Irving of Kirkconnel, in Annandale, was betrothed to Adam Fleming de
+Kirkpatrick, a young gentleman of fortune in the neighbourhood. Walking
+with her lover on the banks of the Kirtle, she was slain by a shot which had
+been aimed at Fleming by a disappointed rival. The melancholy history has
+been made the theme of three different ballads, two of these being old.
+The present ballad, by Mr Mayne, was inserted by Sir Walter Scott in the
+Edinburgh <i>Annual Register</i> of 1815.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_25_25" id="Footnote_25_25"></a><a href="#FNanchor_25_25"><span class="label">[25]</span></a> Burns composed two verses to the same tune, which is very old. It was
+a favourite of Queen Mary, the consort of William III. In his "Beggar's
+Opera," Gay has adopted the tune for one of his songs. It was published,
+in 1652, by John Hilton, as the third voice to what is called a
+"Northern Catch" for three voices, beginning&mdash;"I'se gae wi' thee, my sweet
+Peggy."</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_26_26" id="Footnote_26_26"></a><a href="#FNanchor_26_26"><span class="label">[26]</span></a> These stanzas are founded on some lines of old doggerel, beginning&mdash;
+</p>
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Go, go, go,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Go to Berwick, Johnnie;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thou shalt have the horse,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And I shall have the pony."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_27_27" id="Footnote_27_27"></a><a href="#FNanchor_27_27"><span class="label">[27]</span></a> These verses were written as a continuation to Burns's "Of a' the airts
+the wind can blaw." Other two stanzas were added to the same song by W.
+Reid.&mdash;See <i><a href="#UPON_THE_BANKS_O_FLOWING_CLYDE38">postea</a></i>.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_28_28" id="Footnote_28_28"></a><a href="#FNanchor_28_28"><span class="label">[28]</span></a> <i>Literary Gazette</i>, March 1851.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_29_29" id="Footnote_29_29"></a><a href="#FNanchor_29_29"><span class="label">[29]</span></a> This song was written for Thomson's "Melodies." "Todlin' Hame,"
+the air to which it is adapted, appears in Ramsay's "Tea-Table Miscellany"
+as an old song. The words begin&mdash;"When I hae a saxpence under my
+thum." Burns remarks that "it is perhaps one of the first bottle-songs
+that ever was composed."</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_30_30" id="Footnote_30_30"></a><a href="#FNanchor_30_30"><span class="label">[30]</span></a> This song is a new version of "The Blythesome Bridal," beginning,
+"Fy, let us a' to the bridal," which first appeared in Watson's Collection,
+in 1706, and of which the authorship was generally assigned to Francis
+Semple of Beltrees, in Renfrewshire, who lived in the middle of the seventeenth
+century, though more recently it has been attributed to Sir William
+Scott of Thirlestane, in Selkirkshire, who flourished in the beginning of last
+century. The words of the original song are coarse, but humorous.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_31_31" id="Footnote_31_31"></a><a href="#FNanchor_31_31"><span class="label">[31]</span></a> The style of this song and the chorus are borrowed from "The Drucken
+Wife o' Gallowa'," a song which first appeared in the "Charmer," a collection
+of songs, published at Edinburgh in 1751, but the authorship of which
+is unknown.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_32_32" id="Footnote_32_32"></a><a href="#FNanchor_32_32"><span class="label">[32]</span></a> "The Wee Pickle Tow" is an old air, to which the words of this song
+were written.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_33_33" id="Footnote_33_33"></a><a href="#FNanchor_33_33"><span class="label">[33]</span></a> This song was contributed by Miss Baillie to "The Harp of Caledonia."</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_34_34" id="Footnote_34_34"></a><a href="#FNanchor_34_34"><span class="label">[34]</span></a> Of the song, "Woo'd, and married, and a'," there is another version,
+published in Johnson's "Musical Museum," vol. i. p. 10, which was long
+popular among the ballad-singers. This was composed by Alexander Ross,
+schoolmaster of Lochlee, author of "Helenore, or the Fortunate Shepherdess."
+A song, having a similar commencement, had previously been
+current on the Border.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_35_35" id="Footnote_35_35"></a><a href="#FNanchor_35_35"><span class="label">[35]</span></a> The two first stanzas of this song are the composition of the gifted and
+unfortunate Robert Fergusson. It is founded on an older ditty, beginning,
+"I'll rowe thee o'er the lea-rig." See Johnson's "Musical Museum," vol.
+iv. p. 53.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_36_36" id="Footnote_36_36"></a><a href="#FNanchor_36_36"><span class="label">[36]</span></a> These stanzas are in continuation of Burns's song, "John Anderson, my
+jo." Five other stanzas have been added to the continuation by some unknown
+hand, which will be found in the "Book of Scottish Song," p. 54.
+Glasgow, 1853.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_37_37" id="Footnote_37_37"></a><a href="#FNanchor_37_37"><span class="label">[37]</span></a> See <i><a href="#CAROLINA_BARONESS_NAIRN">postea</a></i>, in this volume, under article "<a href="#CAROLINA_BARONESS_NAIRN">Lady Nairn</a>."</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_38_38" id="Footnote_38_38"></a><a href="#FNanchor_38_38"><span class="label">[38]</span></a> These two stanzas were written as a continuation of Burns's popular
+song, "Of a' the airts the wind can blaw." Two other stanzas were added
+by John Hamilton. See <i><a href="#OH_BLAW_YE_WESTLIN_WINDS27">ante</a></i>, <a href="#Page_124">p. 124.</a></p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_39_39" id="Footnote_39_39"></a><a href="#FNanchor_39_39"><span class="label">[39]</span></a> The four first lines of the last stanza are by Burns.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_40_40" id="Footnote_40_40"></a><a href="#FNanchor_40_40"><span class="label">[40]</span></a> These tender and beautiful verses are transcribed from Johnson's
+"Musical Museum," in a note to which they were first published by the
+editor, Mr David Laing. He remarks that he "has reason to believe" that
+they are from the pen of Mrs Stewart. (See Johnson's "Musical Museum,"
+vol. iv. p. 366, <i>new edition</i>. Edinburgh, 1853.)</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_41_41" id="Footnote_41_41"></a><a href="#FNanchor_41_41"><span class="label">[41]</span></a> The "Songs of Scotland," by Allan Cunningham, vol. i. p. 247.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_42_42" id="Footnote_42_42"></a><a href="#FNanchor_42_42"><span class="label">[42]</span></a> The most complete collection of his poems appeared in a volume published
+under the following title:&mdash;"The Poetical Works of Alexander
+Wilson; also, his Miscellaneous Prose Writings, Journals, Letters, Essays,
+&amp;c., now first Collected: Illustrated by Critical and Explanatory Notes,
+with an extended Memoir of his Life and Writings, and a Glossary." Belfast,
+1844, 18vo. A portrait of the author is prefixed.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_43_43" id="Footnote_43_43"></a><a href="#FNanchor_43_43"><span class="label">[43]</span></a> We have ventured to omit three verses, and to alter slightly the last line
+of this song. It was originally published at Paisley, in 1790, to the tune of
+"One bottle more." Auchtertool is a small hamlet in Fifeshire, about five
+miles west of the town of Kirkcaldy. The inhabitants, whatever may have
+been their failings at the period when Wilson in vain solicited shelter in the
+hamlet, are certainly no longer entitled to bear the reproach of lacking in
+hospitality. We rejoice in the opportunity thus afforded of testifying as to
+the disinterested hospitality and kindness which we have experienced in that
+neighbourhood.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_44_44" id="Footnote_44_44"></a><a href="#FNanchor_44_44"><span class="label">[44]</span></a> Robertson of Struan, cousin-german of Lady Nairn's mother, and a conspicuous
+Jacobite chief, composed many fugitive verses for the amusement
+of his friends; and a collection of them, said to have been surreptitiously
+obtained from a servant, was published, without a date, under the following
+title:&mdash;"Poems on various Subjects and Occasions, by the Honourable
+Alexander Robertson of Struan, Esq.&mdash;mostly taken from his own original
+Manuscripts." Edinburgh, 8vo.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_45_45" id="Footnote_45_45"></a><a href="#FNanchor_45_45"><span class="label">[45]</span></a> Writing to one of her correspondents, in November 1840, Lady Nairn
+thus remarks&mdash;"I sometimes say to myself, 'This is no me,' so greatly have
+my feelings and trains of thought changed since 'auld lang syne;' and,
+though I am made to know assuredly that all is well, I scarcely dare to
+allow my mind to settle on the past."</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_46_46" id="Footnote_46_46"></a><a href="#FNanchor_46_46"><span class="label">[46]</span></a> A daughter of Baron Hume was one of the ladies who induced Lady
+Nairn to become a contributor to "The Scottish Minstrel." Many of the
+songs were sent to the Editor through the medium of Miss Hume. She thus
+expresses herself in a letter to a friend:&mdash;"My father's admiration of 'The
+Land o' the Leal' was such, that he said no woman but Miss Ferrier was
+capable of writing it. And when I used to shew him song after song in
+MS., when I was receiving the anonymous verses for the music, and ask his
+criticism, he said&mdash;'Your unknown poetess has only <i>one</i>, or rather <i>two</i>, letters
+out of taste, viz., choosing "B. B." for her signature.'"</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_47_47" id="Footnote_47_47"></a><a href="#FNanchor_47_47"><span class="label">[47]</span></a> This seems to have been the author's first composition in Scottish
+verse. See the <a href="#CAROLINA_BARONESS_NAIRN">Memoir</a>.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_48_48" id="Footnote_48_48"></a><a href="#FNanchor_48_48"><span class="label">[48]</span></a> This song has acquired an extensive popularity, for which it is much
+indebted, in addition to its intrinsic merits, to the musical powers of the late
+John Wilson, the eminent vocalist, whose premature death is a source of
+regret to all lovers of Scottish melody. Mr Wilson sung this song in every
+principal town of the United Kingdom, and always with effect.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_49_49" id="Footnote_49_49"></a><a href="#FNanchor_49_49"><span class="label">[49]</span></a> This exquisitely tender and beautiful lay was composed by Lady Nairn,
+for two married relatives of her own, Mr and Mrs C&mdash;&mdash;, who had sustained
+bereavement in the death of a child. Such is the account of its origin which
+we have received from Lady Nairn's relatives.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_50_50" id="Footnote_50_50"></a><a href="#FNanchor_50_50"><span class="label">[50]</span></a> This humorous and highly popular song was composed by Lady Nairn
+towards the close of the last century, in place of the older words connected
+with the air, "When she came ben, she bobbit." The older version, which
+is entitled "Cockpen," is exceptional on the score of refinement, but was formerly
+sung on account of the excellence of the air. It is generally believed
+to be a composition of the reign of Charles II.; and the hero of the piece,
+"the Laird of Cockpen," is said to have been the companion in arms and
+attached friend of his sovereign. Of this personage an anecdote is recorded
+in some of the Collections. Having been engaged with his countrymen at
+the battle of Worcester, in the cause of Charles, he accompanied the unfortunate
+monarch to Holland, and, forming one of the little court at the
+Hague, amused his royal master by his humour, and especially by his skill
+in Scottish music. In playing the tune, "Brose and Butter," he particularly
+excelled; it became the favourite of the exiled monarch, and Cockpen
+had pleasure in gratifying the royal wish, that he might be lulled to sleep at
+night, and awakened in the morning by this enchanting air. At the Restoration,
+Cockpen found that his estate had been confiscated for his attachment to
+the king, and had the deep mortification to discover that he had suffered on behalf
+of an ungrateful prince, who gave no response to his many petitions and
+entreaties for the restoration of his possessions. Visiting London, he was
+even denied an audience; but he still entertained a hope that, by a personal
+conference with the king, he might attain his object. To accomplish this
+design, he had recourse to the following artifice:&mdash;He formed acquaintance
+with the organist of the chapel-royal, and obtained permission to officiate as
+his substitute when the king came to service. He did so with becoming
+propriety till the close of the service, when, instead of the solemn departing
+air, he struck up the monarch's old favourite, "Brose and Butter." The
+scheme, though bordering on profanity, succeeded in the manner intended.
+The king proceeding hastily to the organ-gallery, discovered Cockpen, whom
+he saluted familiarly, declaring that he had "almost made him dance."
+"I could dance too," said Cockpen, "if I had my lands again." The request,
+to which every entreaty could not gain a response, was yielded to the
+power of music and old association. Cockpen was restored to his inheritance.
+The modern ballad has been often attributed to Miss Ferrier, the accomplished
+author of "Marriage," and other popular novels. She only contributed
+the last two stanzas. The present Laird of Cockpen is the Marquis of
+Dalhousie.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_51_51" id="Footnote_51_51"></a><a href="#FNanchor_51_51"><span class="label">[51]</span></a> The first two lines of this song are borrowed from the "Lea-Rig," a
+lively and popular lyric, of which the first two verses were composed by Robert
+Fergusson, the three remaining being added by William Reid of Glasgow.
+(See <i><a href="#WILLIAM_REID">ante</a></i>, article "<a href="#WILLIAM_REID">William Reid</a>.")</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_52_52" id="Footnote_52_52"></a><a href="#FNanchor_52_52"><span class="label">[52]</span></a> The author seems to have composed these stanzas as a sequel to a wooing
+song of the same name, beginning, "Robin is my only jo," which first
+appeared in Herd's Collection in 1776. There are some older words to the
+same air, but these are coarse, and are not to be found in any of the modern
+Collections.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_53_53" id="Footnote_53_53"></a><a href="#FNanchor_53_53"><span class="label">[53]</span></a> Another song with the same title, "Saw ye nae my Peggy?" is inserted
+in the Collections. It first appeared in Herd's Collection, in 1769, though
+it is understood to be of a considerably older date. Allan Ramsay composed
+two songs to the same air, but they are both inferior. The air is believed
+to have originally been connected with some exceptionable words, beginning,
+"Saw ye my Maggie?"</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_54_54" id="Footnote_54_54"></a><a href="#FNanchor_54_54"><span class="label">[54]</span></a> This excellent ballad is the fourth version adapted to the air, "Cauld
+Kail in Aberdeen." Some notice of the three former will be found <i><a href="#ALEXANDER_DUKE_OF_GORDON">ante</a></i>,
+<a href="#Page_46">p. 46</a>.</p></div>
+
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_55_55" id="Footnote_55_55"></a><a href="#FNanchor_55_55"><span class="label">[55]</span></a> There are several other versions of this highly popular song. One of
+these, the composition of William Reid of Glasgow, has already been adduced.
+See <i><a href="#KATE_O_GOWRIE37">ante</a></i>, <a href="#Page_157">p. 157</a>. Another, which is one of the most celebrated,
+in the first two verses is nearly the same with the opening stanzas of Lady
+Nairn's version, the sequel proceeding as follows:&mdash;
+</p>
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I praised her beauty loud an' lang,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then round her waist my arms I flang,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And said, "My dearie, will ye gang<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To see the Carse o' Gowrie?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"I'll tak ye to my father's ha',<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In yon green field beside the shaw;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I'll mak you lady o' them a'&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The brawest wife in Gowrie."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Soft kisses on her lips I laid,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The blush upon her cheek soon spread;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She whisper'd modestly, and said,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"I'll gang wi' you to Gowrie."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The auld folks soon ga'e their consent,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Syne for Mess John they quickly sent,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wha tied them to their heart's content,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And now she's Lady Gowrie.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<p>
+Mr Lyle, in his "Ancient Ballads and Songs" (Lond. 1827, 12mo, p.
+138), presents an additional version, which we subjoin. Mr Lyle remarks,
+that he had revised it from an old stall copy, ascribed to Colonel James
+Ramsay of Stirling Castle.
+</p><p class='center'>
+THE BONNIE LASS O' GOWRIE.
+</p>
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">A wee bit north frae yon green wood,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whar draps the sunny showerie,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The lofty elm-trees spread their boughs,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To shade the braes o' Gowrie;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An' by yon burn ye scarce can see,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There stan's a rustic bowerie,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whar lives a lass mair dear to me<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Than a' the maids in Gowrie.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Nae gentle bard e'er sang her praise,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'Cause fortune ne'er left dowrie;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The rose blaws sweetest in the shade,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So does the flower o' Gowrie.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When April strews her garlands roun',<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her bare foot treads the flowerie;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her sang gars a' the woodlands ring,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That shade the braes o' Gowrie.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Her modest blush an' downcast e'e,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A flame sent beating through me;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For she surpasses all I've seen,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">This peerless flower o' Gowrie.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I've lain upon the dewy green<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Until the evening hourie,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An' thought gin e'er I durst ca' mine<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The bonnie lass o' Gowrie.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The bushes that o'erhang the burn,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sae verdant and sae flowerie,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Can witness that I love alane<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The bonnie lass o' Gowrie.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Let ithers dream an' sigh for wealth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An' fashions fleet and flowery;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Gi'e me that heav'nly innocence<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Upon the braes o' Gowrie.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_56_56" id="Footnote_56_56"></a><a href="#FNanchor_56_56"><span class="label">[56]</span></a> The present is an amended version of an old song, entitled "The Bonnie
+Brier Bush," altered and added to by Burns for the "Musical Museum."</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_57_57" id="Footnote_57_57"></a><a href="#FNanchor_57_57"><span class="label">[57]</span></a> A familiar Scottish phrase for good sense.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_58_58" id="Footnote_58_58"></a><a href="#FNanchor_58_58"><span class="label">[58]</span></a> Castle Gloom, better known as Castle Campbell, was a residence of the
+noble family of Argyll, from the middle of the fifteenth till the middle of the
+seventeenth century, when it was burnt by the Marquis of Montrose&mdash;an
+enterprise to which he was excited by the Ogilvies, who thus sought revenge
+for the destruction, by the Marquis of Argyll, of the "bonnie house of
+Airlie." The castle is situated on a promontory of the Ochil hills, near the
+village of Dollar, in Clackmannanshire, and has long been in the ruinous
+condition described in the song. Two hill rivulets, designated <i>Sorrow</i> and
+<i>Care</i>, proceed on either side of the castle promontory. John Knox, the Reformer,
+for some time resided in Castle Gloom, with Archibald, fourth Earl
+of Argyll, and here preached the Reformed doctrines.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_59_59" id="Footnote_59_59"></a><a href="#FNanchor_59_59"><span class="label">[59]</span></a> "Charles Edward entered Carlisle preceded by a hundred pipers.
+Two thousand Highlanders crossed the Esk, at Longtown; the tide being
+swollen, nothing was seen of them but their heads and shoulders; they
+stemmed the force of the stream, and lost not a man in the passage: when
+landed, the pipers struck up, and they danced reels until they were dry
+again."&mdash;<i>Authentic Account of Occupation of Carlisle, by George G. Monsey.</i></p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_60_60" id="Footnote_60_60"></a><a href="#FNanchor_60_60"><span class="label">[60]</span></a> These verses are printed from a MS. in possession of one of Lady
+Nairn's friends, and are, the Editor believes, for the first time published.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_61_61" id="Footnote_61_61"></a><a href="#FNanchor_61_61"><span class="label">[61]</span></a> The romantic scenery depicted in this song is in the immediate vicinity
+of the Queen's Drive, Edinburgh.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_62_62" id="Footnote_62_62"></a><a href="#FNanchor_62_62"><span class="label">[62]</span></a> The wells of Weary are situated near the Windyknowe, beneath
+Salisbury Crags.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_63_63" id="Footnote_63_63"></a><a href="#FNanchor_63_63"><span class="label">[63]</span></a> This song is printed from an improved version of the original, by a
+literary friend of the author.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_64_64" id="Footnote_64_64"></a><a href="#FNanchor_64_64"><span class="label">[64]</span></a> This song having become known to George IV., it is said to have induced
+his Majesty to award the royal sanction for the restitution of the title
+of Baron to Lady Nairn's husband.&mdash;(See <a href="#CAROLINA_BARONESS_NAIRN">Memoir</a>.)</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_65_65" id="Footnote_65_65"></a><a href="#FNanchor_65_65"><span class="label">[65]</span></a> Here first printed.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_66_66" id="Footnote_66_66"></a><a href="#FNanchor_66_66"><span class="label">[66]</span></a> These verses are here first printed.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_67_67" id="Footnote_67_67"></a><a href="#FNanchor_67_67"><span class="label">[67]</span></a> This song was composed in 1842, when the author had attained her
+seventy-sixth year. The four lays following, breathing the same devotional
+spirit, appear to have been written about the same period of the author's
+life. The present song is printed from the original MS.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_68_68" id="Footnote_68_68"></a><a href="#FNanchor_68_68"><span class="label">[68]</span></a> These stanzas are printed for the first time. The MS. is not in Lady
+Nairn's handwriting, but there is every reason to assign to her the authorship.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_69_69" id="Footnote_69_69"></a><a href="#FNanchor_69_69"><span class="label">[69]</span></a> The simple and sublime original of these stanzas, with the fine air by
+H&uuml;mmel, became the national song of Germany, and was sung by the soldiers
+especially, during the latter campaigns of the war, when Buonaparte
+was twice dethroned, and Europe finally delivered from French predominance.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_70_70" id="Footnote_70_70"></a><a href="#FNanchor_70_70"><span class="label">[70]</span></a> The Ouse.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_71_71" id="Footnote_71_71"></a><a href="#FNanchor_71_71"><span class="label">[71]</span></a> We have to acknowledge our obligations for several particulars of this
+sketch to Mr Robert Bower, Melrose, the author of a volume of "Ballads
+and Lyrics," published at Edinburgh in 1853.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_72_72" id="Footnote_72_72"></a><a href="#FNanchor_72_72"><span class="label">[72]</span></a> We regret that, owing to the provision of the copyright act, we are
+unable, in this work, to present four of Sir Walter Scott's most popular songs,
+"The Blue Bonnets over the Border," "Jock o' Hazeldean," "M'Gregor's
+Gathering," and "Carle, now the King's come." These songs must, however,
+be abundantly familiar to the majority of readers.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_73_73" id="Footnote_73_73"></a><a href="#FNanchor_73_73"><span class="label">[73]</span></a> From "The Grave of Sir Walter Scott," a poem by Thomas C. Latto (see
+"The Minister's Kail-yard, and other Poems." Edinburgh, 1845, 12mo).
+To explain an allusion in the last line of the above stanza, it should be
+noticed, that the last dress of the poet is exhibited to visitors at Abbotsford,
+carefully preserved in a glass case.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_74_74" id="Footnote_74_74"></a><a href="#FNanchor_74_74"><span class="label">[74]</span></a> This song appears in the sixth canto of "The Lay of the Last Minstrel."
+"It is the author's object in these songs," writes Lord Jeffrey, "to exemplify
+the different styles of ballad-narrative which prevailed in this island
+at different periods, or in different conditions of society. The first (the
+above) is conducted upon the rude and simple model of the old border
+ditties, and produces its effect by the direct and concise narrative of a tragical
+occurrence."</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_75_75" id="Footnote_75_75"></a><a href="#FNanchor_75_75"><span class="label">[75]</span></a> This song occurs in the fifth canto of "Marmion." It is founded on a
+ballad entitled "Katharine Janfarie," in the "Minstrelsy of the Scottish
+Border."</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_76_76" id="Footnote_76_76"></a><a href="#FNanchor_76_76"><span class="label">[76]</span></a> From the third canto of "Marmion."</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_77_77" id="Footnote_77_77"></a><a href="#FNanchor_77_77"><span class="label">[77]</span></a> The song of Lady Margaret in the first canto of "The Lady of the Lake."</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_78_78" id="Footnote_78_78"></a><a href="#FNanchor_78_78"><span class="label">[78]</span></a> The "boat song" in the second canto of "The Lady of the Lake." It
+may be sung to the air of "The Banks of the Devon."</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_79_79" id="Footnote_79_79"></a><a href="#FNanchor_79_79"><span class="label">[79]</span></a> Song of Norman in "The Lady of the Lake," canto third.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_80_80" id="Footnote_80_80"></a><a href="#FNanchor_80_80"><span class="label">[80]</span></a> "The Lady of the Lake," canto sixth.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_81_81" id="Footnote_81_81"></a><a href="#FNanchor_81_81"><span class="label">[81]</span></a> "The Lady of the Lake," canto third.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_82_82" id="Footnote_82_82"></a><a href="#FNanchor_82_82"><span class="label">[82]</span></a> "Rokeby," canto third.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_83_83" id="Footnote_83_83"></a><a href="#FNanchor_83_83"><span class="label">[83]</span></a> "Rokeby," canto third.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_84_84" id="Footnote_84_84"></a><a href="#FNanchor_84_84"><span class="label">[84]</span></a> "Rokeby," canto fifth.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_85_85" id="Footnote_85_85"></a><a href="#FNanchor_85_85"><span class="label">[85]</span></a> "Rokeby," canto fifth.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_86_86" id="Footnote_86_86"></a><a href="#FNanchor_86_86"><span class="label">[86]</span></a> First published in the continuation of Strutt's Queenhoohall, 1808,
+inserted in the <i>Edinburgh Annual Register</i>, of the same year, and set
+to a Welsh air in Thomson's <i>Select Melodies</i>, vol. iii., 1817.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_87_87" id="Footnote_87_87"></a><a href="#FNanchor_87_87"><span class="label">[87]</span></a> Songs and Poems of Robert Mackay, p. 38. (Inverness, 1829. 8vo.)</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_88_88" id="Footnote_88_88"></a><a href="#FNanchor_88_88"><span class="label">[88]</span></a> The Rev. Dr Mackintosh Mackay, successively minister of Laggan and
+Dunoon, now a clergyman in Australia.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_89_89" id="Footnote_89_89"></a><a href="#FNanchor_89_89"><span class="label">[89]</span></a> <i>Quarterly Review</i>, vol. xlv., April 1831.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_90_90" id="Footnote_90_90"></a><a href="#FNanchor_90_90"><span class="label">[90]</span></a> "Birk-shaw." A few Scotticisms will be found in these versions, at
+once to flavour the style, and, it must be admitted, to assist the rhymes.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_91_91" id="Footnote_91_91"></a><a href="#FNanchor_91_91"><span class="label">[91]</span></a> Birds.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_92_92" id="Footnote_92_92"></a><a href="#FNanchor_92_92"><span class="label">[92]</span></a> The sides of the cottages&mdash;plastered with mud or mortar, instead of lime.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_93_93" id="Footnote_93_93"></a><a href="#FNanchor_93_93"><span class="label">[93]</span></a> Salmon.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_94_94" id="Footnote_94_94"></a><a href="#FNanchor_94_94"><span class="label">[94]</span></a> "Poems," p. 318.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_95_95" id="Footnote_95_95"></a><a href="#FNanchor_95_95"><span class="label">[95]</span></a> "Anne"&mdash;Rob's first love, the heroine of the piece. "Similar in interest
+to the Highland Mary of Burns, is the yellow-haired Anne of Rob Donn."&mdash;"Life,"
+p. 18.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_96_96" id="Footnote_96_96"></a><a href="#FNanchor_96_96"><span class="label">[96]</span></a> "Isabel"&mdash;the daughter of Ian Macechan, the subject of other verses.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_97_97" id="Footnote_97_97"></a><a href="#FNanchor_97_97"><span class="label">[97]</span></a> "Unsummon'd of thee." The idea is rather quaintly expressed in the
+original thus&mdash;"Though thou hast sent me no summons, love has, of his
+own accord, acted the part of a catchpole (or sheriff's officer), and will not
+release me." Such are the homely fancies introduced into some of the most
+passionate strains of the Gaelic muse.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_98_98" id="Footnote_98_98"></a><a href="#FNanchor_98_98"><span class="label">[98]</span></a> Alluding to his absence, and delay in his courtship.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_99_99" id="Footnote_99_99"></a><a href="#FNanchor_99_99"><span class="label">[99]</span></a> Rather more modest than the classic's "feriam sidera vertice."</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_100_100" id="Footnote_100_100"></a><a href="#FNanchor_100_100"><span class="label">[100]</span></a> A common Highland adjuration.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_101_101" id="Footnote_101_101"></a><a href="#FNanchor_101_101"><span class="label">[101]</span></a> At this humiliating apostrophe, the beggar is reported to have instinctively
+raised his staff&mdash;an action which the bard observed just in time to avoid
+its descent on his back.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_102_102" id="Footnote_102_102"></a><a href="#FNanchor_102_102"><span class="label">[102]</span></a> "Statistical Account of Fortingall."&mdash;Stat. Acc., x., p. 549.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_103_103" id="Footnote_103_103"></a><a href="#FNanchor_103_103"><span class="label">[103]</span></a> The same account observes that though none of his works are published
+but his sacred compositions, he composed "several songs on various subjects."</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_104_104" id="Footnote_104_104"></a><a href="#FNanchor_104_104"><span class="label">[104]</span></a> Published at Glasgow, 1836.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_105_105" id="Footnote_105_105"></a><a href="#FNanchor_105_105"><span class="label">[105]</span></a> These are his descriptions of "The Drunkard," "The Glutton," and
+"The Good and Wicked Pastor."</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_106_106" id="Footnote_106_106"></a><a href="#FNanchor_106_106"><span class="label">[106]</span></a> Maiden or virgin&mdash;<i>orig.</i></p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_107_107" id="Footnote_107_107"></a><a href="#FNanchor_107_107"><span class="label">[107]</span></a> <i>Orig.</i>&mdash;The venomous red spider.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_108_108" id="Footnote_108_108"></a><a href="#FNanchor_108_108"><span class="label">[108]</span></a> Gaelic, "gealag"&mdash;descriptive of the salmon, from its glossy brightness.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_109_109" id="Footnote_109_109"></a><a href="#FNanchor_109_109"><span class="label">[109]</span></a> Anglicised into <i>Ben</i>.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_110_110" id="Footnote_110_110"></a><a href="#FNanchor_110_110"><span class="label">[110]</span></a> The deer.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_111_111" id="Footnote_111_111"></a><a href="#FNanchor_111_111"><span class="label">[111]</span></a> Stag of the first head.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_112_112" id="Footnote_112_112"></a><a href="#FNanchor_112_112"><span class="label">[112]</span></a> Pass.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_113_113" id="Footnote_113_113"></a><a href="#FNanchor_113_113"><span class="label">[113]</span></a> Any one who has heard a native attempt the Lowland tongue for the
+first time, is familiar with the personification that turns every inanimate
+object into <i>he</i> or <i>she</i>. The forest is here happily personified as a nurse or
+mother.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_114_114" id="Footnote_114_114"></a><a href="#FNanchor_114_114"><span class="label">[114]</span></a> Bog-holes.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_115_115" id="Footnote_115_115"></a><a href="#FNanchor_115_115"><span class="label">[115]</span></a> Stripings.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_116_116" id="Footnote_116_116"></a><a href="#FNanchor_116_116"><span class="label">[116]</span></a> <i>Gaelic</i>&mdash;Easan-an-tsith.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_117_117" id="Footnote_117_117"></a><a href="#FNanchor_117_117"><span class="label">[117]</span></a> Primrose.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_118_118" id="Footnote_118_118"></a><a href="#FNanchor_118_118"><span class="label">[118]</span></a> St John's wort.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_119_119" id="Footnote_119_119"></a><a href="#FNanchor_119_119"><span class="label">[119]</span></a> A kind of cress, or marshmallow.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_120_120" id="Footnote_120_120"></a><a href="#FNanchor_120_120"><span class="label">[120]</span></a> <i>Anglice</i>&mdash;dark.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_121_121" id="Footnote_121_121"></a><a href="#FNanchor_121_121"><span class="label">[121]</span></a> <i>Gaelic</i>&mdash;Caoillt; who, with Cuchullin, makes a figure in traditional
+Gaelic poetry.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_122_122" id="Footnote_122_122"></a><a href="#FNanchor_122_122"><span class="label">[122]</span></a> <i>Gaelic</i>&mdash;King George.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_123_123" id="Footnote_123_123"></a><a href="#FNanchor_123_123"><span class="label">[123]</span></a> Literally&mdash;"From the barrel of Nic-Coisean." This was the poet's
+favourite gun, to which his muse has addressed a separate song of considerable
+merit.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_124_124" id="Footnote_124_124"></a><a href="#FNanchor_124_124"><span class="label">[124]</span></a> The "Auld Town Guard" of Edinburgh, which existed before the
+Police Acts came into operation, was composed principally of Highlandmen,
+some of them old pensioners. Their rendezvous, or place of resort, was
+in the vicinity of old St Giles's Church, where they might generally be
+found smoking, snuffing, and speaking in the true Highland vernacular.
+Archie Campbell, celebrated by Macintyre as "Captain Campbell," was
+the last, and a favourable specimen of this class of civic functionaries. He
+was a stout, tall man; and, dressed in his "knee breeks and buckles, wi' the
+red-necked coat, and the cocked hat," he considered himself of no ordinary
+importance. He had a most thorough contempt for grammar, and looked
+upon the Lord Provost as the greatest functionary in the world. He
+delighted to be called "the Provost's right-hand man." Archie is still well
+remembered by many of the inhabitants of Edinburgh, as he was quite a
+character in the city. In dealing with a prisoner, Archie used to impress
+him with the idea that he could do great things for him by merely speaking
+to "his honour the Provost;" and when locking a prisoner up in the
+Tolbooth, he would say sometimes&mdash;"There, my lad, I cannot do nothing
+more for you!" He took care to give his friends from the Highlands a
+magnificent notion of his great personal consequence, which, of course, they
+aggrandised when they returned to the hills.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_125_125" id="Footnote_125_125"></a><a href="#FNanchor_125_125"><span class="label">[125]</span></a> A byeword for a regimental firelock.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_126_126" id="Footnote_126_126"></a><a href="#FNanchor_126_126"><span class="label">[126]</span></a> A favourite fowling-piece, alluded to in Bendourain, and elsewhere.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_127_127" id="Footnote_127_127"></a><a href="#FNanchor_127_127"><span class="label">[127]</span></a> Alluding to the plagues.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_128_128" id="Footnote_128_128"></a><a href="#FNanchor_128_128"><span class="label">[128]</span></a> The teeth.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_129_129" id="Footnote_129_129"></a><a href="#FNanchor_129_129"><span class="label">[129]</span></a> <i>Gaelic</i>&mdash;Matted, rough, gray beard.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_130_130" id="Footnote_130_130"></a><a href="#FNanchor_130_130"><span class="label">[130]</span></a> In Stat. Ac. said to be of Lochbroom, vol. xiv., p. 79.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_131_131" id="Footnote_131_131"></a><a href="#FNanchor_131_131"><span class="label">[131]</span></a> Hugh Macleod.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_132_132" id="Footnote_132_132"></a><a href="#FNanchor_132_132"><span class="label">[132]</span></a> Applicable both to the chief and his crest.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_133_133" id="Footnote_133_133"></a><a href="#FNanchor_133_133"><span class="label">[133]</span></a> Literally, "<i>the dress</i>," (pron. <i>&#275;idi</i>,) <i>i.e.</i>, Highland garb, not yet abolished.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_134_134" id="Footnote_134_134"></a><a href="#FNanchor_134_134"><span class="label">[134]</span></a> Sutherlanders, or Caithness men.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_135_135" id="Footnote_135_135"></a><a href="#FNanchor_135_135"><span class="label">[135]</span></a> Banner.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_136_136" id="Footnote_136_136"></a><a href="#FNanchor_136_136"><span class="label">[136]</span></a> Monro of Fowlis.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_137_137" id="Footnote_137_137"></a><a href="#FNanchor_137_137"><span class="label">[137]</span></a> Rose of Kilravock and his clan.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_138_138" id="Footnote_138_138"></a><a href="#FNanchor_138_138"><span class="label">[138]</span></a> Grant of Grant.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_139_139" id="Footnote_139_139"></a><a href="#FNanchor_139_139"><span class="label">[139]</span></a> Lovat.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_140_140" id="Footnote_140_140"></a><a href="#FNanchor_140_140"><span class="label">[140]</span></a> Of Culloden.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_141_141" id="Footnote_141_141"></a><a href="#FNanchor_141_141"><span class="label">[141]</span></a> Of Sutherland.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_142_142" id="Footnote_142_142"></a><a href="#FNanchor_142_142"><span class="label">[142]</span></a> Lord Reay.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_143_143" id="Footnote_143_143"></a><a href="#FNanchor_143_143"><span class="label">[143]</span></a> Steed. The Celtic "Cabul" and Latin "Caballus" correspond.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_144_144" id="Footnote_144_144"></a><a href="#FNanchor_144_144"><span class="label">[144]</span></a> Here the bard is a little obscure; but he seems to mean that the
+Monroes made their escape over the skulls of the dead, as if they were boats
+or coracles by which to cross or get away from danger.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_145_145" id="Footnote_145_145"></a><a href="#FNanchor_145_145"><span class="label">[145]</span></a> The Caithness and Sutherland men.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_146_146" id="Footnote_146_146"></a><a href="#FNanchor_146_146"><span class="label">[146]</span></a> Lovat's men.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_147_147" id="Footnote_147_147"></a><a href="#FNanchor_147_147"><span class="label">[147]</span></a> The eagle being the crest of the Monro.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_148_148" id="Footnote_148_148"></a><a href="#FNanchor_148_148"><span class="label">[148]</span></a> The <i>eagle</i>; the crest of Monro of Fowlis. The filthy and cruel habits of
+this predatory bird are here contrasted with the forest-manners of the stag
+in a singular specimen of clan vituperation.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_149_149" id="Footnote_149_149"></a><a href="#FNanchor_149_149"><span class="label">[149]</span></a> <i>Fioreun</i>, the name of the eagle, signifying true bird.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_150_150" id="Footnote_150_150"></a><a href="#FNanchor_150_150"><span class="label">[150]</span></a> Literally&mdash;Accursed by Moses, or the Mosaic law.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_151_151" id="Footnote_151_151"></a><a href="#FNanchor_151_151"><span class="label">[151]</span></a> The single eagle's feather crested the chieftain's bonnet.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_152_152" id="Footnote_152_152"></a><a href="#FNanchor_152_152"><span class="label">[152]</span></a> Literally&mdash;If thy feather is noble, thy claws are (of) the devil!</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_153_153" id="Footnote_153_153"></a><a href="#FNanchor_153_153"><span class="label">[153]</span></a> This picture of the eagle is not much for edification&mdash;nor another hit at
+the lion of the Macdonalds, then at feud with the Seaforth. The former is
+abridged, and the latter omitted; as also a lively detail of the <i>creagh</i>, in
+which the Monroes are reproached with their spoilages of cheese, butter, and
+winter-mart beef.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_154_154" id="Footnote_154_154"></a><a href="#FNanchor_154_154"><span class="label">[154]</span></a> Seaforth.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_155_155" id="Footnote_155_155"></a><a href="#FNanchor_155_155"><span class="label">[155]</span></a> Literally&mdash;Bagpipes.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_156_156" id="Footnote_156_156"></a><a href="#FNanchor_156_156"><span class="label">[156]</span></a> Macallammore: Argyle.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_157_157" id="Footnote_157_157"></a><a href="#FNanchor_157_157"><span class="label">[157]</span></a> Macdonald of Sleat.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_158_158" id="Footnote_158_158"></a><a href="#FNanchor_158_158"><span class="label">[158]</span></a> Clanranald's country.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_159_159" id="Footnote_159_159"></a><a href="#FNanchor_159_159"><span class="label">[159]</span></a> Literally&mdash;Of blue steel.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_160_160" id="Footnote_160_160"></a><a href="#FNanchor_160_160"><span class="label">[160]</span></a> Mac-Mhic-Alister, the patronymic of Glengary.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_161_161" id="Footnote_161_161"></a><a href="#FNanchor_161_161"><span class="label">[161]</span></a> Castle Brahan, Seaforth's seat.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_162_162" id="Footnote_162_162"></a><a href="#FNanchor_162_162"><span class="label">[162]</span></a> <i>Gaelic</i>&mdash;Barrels of liquor, properly <i>b&ugrave;idealan</i>.</p></div>
+
+
+</div>
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Modern Scottish Minstrel , Volume
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+Project Gutenberg's The Modern Scottish Minstrel , Volume I., by Various
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Modern Scottish Minstrel , Volume I.
+ The Songs of Scotland of the past half century
+
+Author: Various
+
+Editor: Charles Rogers
+
+Release Date: May 15, 2006 [EBook #18396]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MODERN SCOTTISH MINSTREL ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Ted Garvin, Susan Skinner and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration:
+
+THE
+
+MODERN SCOTTISH MINSTREL;
+
+BY
+
+CHARLES ROGERS, LL.D.
+F.S.A. SCOT.
+
+VOL. I.
+
+
+THE AULD HOUSE O' GASK.
+_THE BIRTH PLACE OF LADY NAIRN._
+_(Copied by permission of Patterson & Sons)_
+
+EDINBURGH:
+ADAM & CHARLES BLACK, NORTH BRIDGE,
+BOOKSELLERS AND PUBLISHERS TO THE QUEEN.]
+
+ * * * * *
+
+[Illustration:
+
+SIR WALTER SCOTT BART.
+
+Lithographed for the Modern Scottish Minstrel, by Schenck & McFarlane.]
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+
+
+THE
+
+MODERN SCOTTISH MINSTREL;
+
+OR,
+
+THE SONGS OF SCOTLAND OF THE
+PAST HALF CENTURY.
+
+WITH
+
+Memoirs of the Poets,
+
+AND
+
+SKETCHES AND SPECIMENS
+IN ENGLISH VERSE OF THE MOST CELEBRATED
+MODERN GAELIC BARDS.
+
+BY
+
+CHARLES ROGERS, LL.D.
+F.S.A. SCOT.
+
+
+IN SIX VOLUMES;
+
+VOL. I.
+
+
+EDINBURGH:
+
+ADAM & CHARLES BLACK, NORTH BRIDGE,
+BOOKSELLERS AND PUBLISHERS TO HER MAJESTY.
+
+M.DCCC.LV.
+
+
+EDINBURGH:
+PRINTED BY BALLANTYNE AND COMPANY,
+PAUL'S WORK.
+
+
+
+
+TO
+
+WILLIAM STIRLING, ESQ. OF KEIR, M.P.,
+
+AN ENLIGHTENED SENATOR, AN ACCOMPLISHED SCHOLAR, AND AN INGENIOUS POET,
+
+THIS FIRST VOLUME
+
+OF
+
+The Modern Scottish Minstrel
+
+IS,
+
+WITH HIS KIND PERMISSION, MOST RESPECTFULLY INSCRIBED,
+
+BY
+
+HIS VERY OBEDIENT, FAITHFUL SERVANT,
+
+CHARLES ROGERS.
+
+
+
+
+PREFACE.
+
+
+Scotland has probably produced a more patriotic and more extended
+minstrelsy than any other country in the world. Those Caledonian
+harp-strains, styled by Sir Walter Scott "gems of our own mountains,"
+have frequently been gathered into caskets of national song, but have
+never been stored in any complete cabinet; while no attempt has been
+made, at least on an ample scale, to adapt, by means of suitable
+metrical translations, the minstrelsy of the Gael for Lowland melody.
+The present work has been undertaken with the view of supplying these
+deficiencies, and with the further design of extending the fame of those
+cultivators of Scottish song--hitherto partially obscured by untoward
+circumstances, or on account of their own diffidence--and of affording a
+stimulus towards the future cultivation of national poetry.
+
+The plan of the work is distinct from that of every previous collection
+of Scottish song--the more esteemed lyrical compositions of the various
+bards being printed along with the memoirs of the respective authors,
+while the names of the poets have been arranged in chronological order.
+Those have been considered as _modern_ whose lives extend into the past
+half-century; and the whole of these have consequently been included in
+the work. Several Highland bards who died a short period before the
+commencement of the century have, however, been introduced. Of all the
+Scottish poets, whether lyrical or otherwise, who survived the period
+indicated, biographical sketches will be supplied in the course of the
+publication, together with memoirs of the principal modern collectors,
+composers and vocalists. The memoirs, so far as is practicable, will be
+prepared from original materials, of which the Editor, after a very
+extensive correspondence, has obtained a supply more ample and more
+interesting than, he flatters himself, has ever been attained by any
+collector of northern minstrelsy. The work will extend to six volumes,
+each of the subsequent volumes being accompanied by a dissertation on a
+distinct department of Scottish poetry and song. Each volume will be
+illustrated with two elegant engravings. In the course of the work, many
+original compositions will be presented, recovered from the MSS. of the
+deceased poets, or contributed by distinguished living bards.
+
+For the department of the "Modern Gaelic Minstrelsy," the Editor has
+obtained the assistance of a learned friend, intimately familiar with
+the language and poetry of the Highlands. To this esteemed co-adjutor
+the reader is indebted for the revisal of the Gaelic department of this
+work, as well as for the following prefatory observations on the
+subject:--
+
+ "Among the intelligent natives of the Highlands, it is well known
+ that the Gaelic language contains a quantity of poetry, which, how
+ difficult soever to transfuse into other tongues and idioms, never
+ fails to touch the heart, and excite enthusiastic feelings. The
+ plan of 'The Modern Scottish Minstrel' restricts us to a period
+ less favourable to the inspirations of the Celtic muse than remoter
+ times. If it is asked, What could be gained by recurring to a more
+ distant period? or what this unlettered people have really to shew
+ for their bardic pretensions? we answer, that there is extant a
+ large and genuine collection of Highland minstrelsy, ranging over a
+ long exciting period, from the days of Harlaw to the expedition of
+ Charles Edward. The 'Prosnachadh Catha,' or battle-song, that led
+ on the raid of Donald the Islander on the Garioch, is still sung;
+ the 'Woes of the Children of the Mist' are yet rehearsed in the
+ ears of their children in the most plaintive measures. Innerlochy
+ and Killiecrankie have their appropriate melodies; Glencoe has its
+ dirge; both the exiled Jameses have their paean and their lament;
+ Charles Edward his welcome and his wail;--all in strains so varied,
+ and with imagery so copious, that their repetition is continually
+ called for, and their interest untiring.
+
+ "All that we have to offer belongs to recent times; but we cannot
+ aver that the merit of the verses is inferior. The interest of the
+ subjects is certainly immeasurably less; but, perhaps, not less
+ propitious to the lilts and the luinneags, in which, as in her
+ music and imitative dancing, the Highland border has found her best
+ Lowland acceptation.
+
+ "We are not aware that we need except any piece, out of the more
+ ancient class, that seems not to admit of being rivalled by some of
+ the compositions of Duncan Ban (Macintyre), Rob Donn, and a few
+ others that come into our own series, if we exclude the pathetic
+ 'Old Bard's Wish,' 'The Song of the Owl,' and, perhaps, Ian Lom's
+ 'Innerlochy.'
+
+ "But, while this may be so far satisfactory to our readers, we are
+ under the necessity of claiming their charitable forbearance for
+ the strangers of the mountain whom we are to introduce to their
+ acquaintance. The language, and, in some respects, the imagery and
+ versification, are as foreign to the usages of the Anglo-Saxon as
+ so many samples of Orientalism. The transfusion of the Greek and
+ Latin choral metres is a light effort to the difficulty of
+ imitating the rhythm, or representing the peculiar vein of these
+ song-enamoured mountaineers. Those who know how a favourite ode of
+ Horace, or a lay of Catullus, is made to look, except in mere
+ paraphrase, must not talk of the poorness or triteness of the
+ Highlander's verses, till they are enabled to do them justice by a
+ knowledge of the language. We disdain any attempt to make those
+ bards sing in the mere English taste, even if we could so translate
+ them as to make them speak or sing better than they do. The fear of
+ his sarcasms prevented Dr Johnson from hearing one literal version
+ during his whole sojourn in the Highlands. Sir Walter Scott wished
+ that somebody might have the manliness to recover Highland poetry
+ from the mystification of paraphrase or imposture, and to present
+ it genuine to the English reader. In that spirit we promise to
+ execute our task; and we shall rejoice if even a very moderate
+ degree of success should attend our endeavours to obtain for the
+ sister muse some share of that popularity to which we believe her
+ entitled."
+
+In respect of the present volume of "The Modern Scottish Minstrel," the
+Editor has to congratulate himself on his being enabled to present, for
+the first time in a popular form, the more esteemed lays of Carolina,
+Baroness Nairn, author of "The Laird o' Cockpen," "The Land o' the
+Leal," and a greater number of popular lyrics than any other Caledonian
+bard, Burns alone excepted. Several pieces of this accomplished lady,
+not previously published, have been introduced, through the kindness of
+her surviving friends. The memoir of the Baroness has been prepared from
+original documents entrusted to the Editor. For permission to engrave
+"The Auld House o' Gask," Lady Nairn's birth-place, the Editor's thanks
+are due to Mr Paterson, music-seller in Edinburgh.
+
+While the present volume of "The Modern Scottish Minstrel" is offered to
+the public with becoming diffidence, the Editor is not without a faint
+ray of hope that, if health and sufficient leisure are afforded him, the
+present publication may be found the most ample and satisfactory
+repository of national song which has at any period been offered to the
+public.
+
+ ARGYLE HOUSE, STIRLING,
+ _April 18, 1855._
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS.
+
+ PAGE
+JOHN SKINNER, 1
+ Tullochgorum, 11
+ John o' Badenyon, 13
+ The ewie wi' the crookit horn, 17
+ O! why should old age so much wound us? 20
+ Still in the wrong, 22
+ Lizzy Liberty, 24
+ The stipendless parson, 28
+ The man of Ross, 31
+ A song on the times, 33
+
+WILLIAM CAMERON, 35
+ As o'er the Highland hills I hied, 37
+
+MRS JOHN HUNTER, 39
+ The Indian death-song, 41
+ My mother bids me bind my hair, 41
+ The flowers of the forest, 42
+ The season comes when first we met, 43
+ Oh, tuneful voice! I still deplore, 44
+ Dear to my heart as life's warm stream, 44
+ The lot of thousands, 45
+
+ALEXANDER, DUKE OF GORDON, 46
+ Cauld kail in Aberdeen, 48
+
+MRS GRANT OF CARRON, 50
+ Roy's wife of Aldivalloch, 52
+
+ROBERT COUPER, M.D., 53
+ Kinrara, 55
+ The sheeling, 55
+ The ewe-bughts, Marion, 56
+
+LADY ANNE BARNARD, 58
+ Auld Robin Gray, 64
+ " " Part II., 65
+ Why tarries my love? 68
+
+JOHN TAIT, 70
+ The banks of the Dee, 72
+
+HECTOR MACNEILL, 73
+ Mary of Castlecary, 82
+ My boy, Tammy, 83
+ Oh, tell me how for to woo, 85
+ Lassie wi' the gowden hair, 87
+ Come under my plaidie, 89
+ I lo'ed ne'er a laddie but ane, 90
+ Donald and Flora, 92
+ My luve's in Germany, 95
+ Dinna think, bonnie lassie, 96
+
+MRS GRANT OF LAGGAN, 99
+ Oh, where, tell me where? 104
+ Oh, my love, leave me not, 106
+
+JOHN MAYNE, 107
+ Logan braes, 110
+ Helen of Kirkconnel, 111
+ The winter sat lang, 113
+ My Johnnie, 114
+ The troops were embarked, 115
+
+JOHN HAMILTON, 117
+ The rantin' Highlandman, 118
+ Up in the mornin' early, 119
+ Go to Berwick, Johnnie, 121
+ Miss Forbes' farewell to Banff, 121
+ Tell me, Jessie, tell me why? 122
+ The hawthorn, 123
+ Oh, blaw, ye westlin' winds! 124
+
+JOANNA BAILLIE, 126
+ The maid of Llanwellyn, 132
+ Good night, good night! 133
+ Though richer swains thy love pursue, 134
+ Poverty parts good companie, 134
+ Fy, let us a' to the wedding, 136
+ Hooly and fairly, 139
+ The weary pund o' tow, 141
+ The wee pickle tow, 142
+ The gowan glitters on the sward, 143
+ Saw ye Johnnie comin'? 145
+ It fell on a morning, 146
+ Woo'd, and married, and a', 148
+
+WILLIAM DUDGEON, 151
+ Up among yon cliffy rocks, 152
+
+WILLIAM REID, 153
+ The lea rig, 154
+ John Anderson, my jo (a continuation), 155
+ Fair, modest flower, 157
+ Kate o' Gowrie, 157
+ Upon the banks o' flowing Clyde, 159
+
+ALEXANDER CAMPBELL, 161
+ Now winter's wind sweeps, 165
+ The hawk whoops on high, 166
+
+MRS DUGALD STEWART, 167
+ The tears I shed must ever fall, 168
+ Returning spring, with gladsome ray, 169
+
+ALEXANDER WILSON, 172
+ Connel and Flora, 179
+ Matilda, 179
+ Auchtertool, 182
+
+CAROLINA, BARONESS NAIRN, 184
+ The ploughman, 194
+ Caller herrin', 195
+ The land o' the leal, 196
+ The Laird o' Cockpen, 198
+ Her home she is leaving, 200
+ The bonniest lass in a' the warld, 201
+ My ain kind dearie, O! 202
+ He 's lifeless amang the rude billows, 202
+ Joy of my earliest days, 203
+ Oh, weel's me on my ain man, 204
+ Kind Robin lo'es me 205
+ Kitty Reid's house, 205
+ The robin's nest, 206
+ Saw ye nae my Peggy? 208
+ Gude nicht, and joy be wi' ye a'! 209
+ Cauld kail in Aberdeen, 210
+ He 's ower the hills that I lo'e weel, 211
+ The lass o' Gowrie, 213
+ There grows a bonnie brier bush, 215
+ John Tod, 216
+ Will ye no come back again? 218
+ Jamie the laird, 219
+ Songs of my native land, 220
+ Castell Gloom, 221
+ Bonnie Gascon Ha', 223
+ The auld house, 224
+ The hundred pipers, 226
+ The women are a' gane wud, 227
+ Jeanie Deans, 228
+ The heiress, 230
+ The mitherless lammie, 231
+ The attainted Scottish nobles, 232
+ True love is watered aye wi' tears, 233
+ Ah, little did my mother think, 234
+ Would you be young again? 235
+ Rest is not here, 236
+ Here's to them that are gane, 237
+ Farewell, O farewell! 238
+ The dead who have died in the Lord, 239
+
+JAMES NICOL, 240
+ Blaw saftly, ye breezes, 242
+ By yon hoarse murmurin' stream, 242
+ Haluckit Meg, 244
+ My dear little lassie, 246
+
+JAMES MONTGOMERY, 247
+ "Friendship, love, and truth," 253
+ The Swiss cowherd's song in a foreign land, 254
+ German war-song, 254
+ Via Crucis, via Lucis, 255
+ Verses to a robin-redbreast, 257
+ Slavery that was, 258
+
+ANDREW SCOTT, 260
+ Rural content, or the muirland farmer, 263
+ Symon and Janet, 265
+ Coquet water, 268
+ The young maid's wish for peace, 269
+ The fiddler's widow, 271
+ Lament for the death of an Irish chief, 272
+ The departure of summer, 273
+
+SIR WALTER SCOTT, BART., 275
+ It was an English ladye bright, 289
+ Lochinvar, 290
+ Where shall the lover rest, 292
+ Soldier, rest! thy warfare o'er, 294
+ Hail to the chief who in triumph advances, 295
+ The heath this night must be my bed, 297
+ The imprisoned huntsman, 298
+ He is gone on the mountain, 299
+ A weary lot is thine, fair maid, 300
+ Allen-a-Dale, 300
+ The cypress wreath, 302
+ The cavalier, 303
+ Hunting song, 304
+ Oh, say not, my love, with that mortified air, 315
+
+ * * * * *
+
+METRICAL TRANSLATIONS FROM THE MODERN GAELIC MINSTRELSY.
+
+ROBERT MACKAY (ROB DONN), 309
+ The song of winter, 311
+ Dirge for Ian Macechan, 315
+ The song of the forsaken drover, 315
+ Isabel Mackay--the maid alone, 318
+ Evan's Elegy, 321
+
+DOUGAL BUCHANAN, 322
+ A clagionn--the skull, 326
+ Am bruadar--the dream, 330
+
+DUNCAN MACINTYRE, 334
+ Mairi bhan og (Mary, the young, the fair-haired), 335
+ Bendourain, the Otter Mount, 336
+ The bard to his musket, 347
+
+JOHN MACODRUM, 351
+ Oran na h-aois (the song of age), 352
+
+NORMAN MACLEOD (TORMAID BAN), 355
+ Caberfae, 357
+
+ * * * * *
+
+GLOSSARY, 363
+
+
+
+
+THE
+
+MODERN SCOTTISH MINSTREL
+
+
+
+
+JOHN SKINNER.
+
+
+Among those modern Scottish poets whose lives, by extending to a
+considerably distant period, render them connecting links between the
+old and recent minstrelsy of Caledonia, the first place is due to the
+Rev. John Skinner. This ingenious and learned person was born on the 3d
+of October 1721, at Balfour, in the parish of Birse, and county of
+Aberdeen. His father, who bore the same Christian name, was parochial
+schoolmaster; but two years after his son's birth, he was presented to
+the more lucrative situation of schoolmaster of Echt, a parish about
+twelve miles distant from Aberdeen. He discharged the duties of this
+latter appointment during the long incumbency of fifty years. He was
+twice married. By his first union with Mrs Jean Gillanders, the relict
+of Donald Farquharson of Balfour, was born an only child, the subject of
+this memoir. The mother dying when the child was only two years old, the
+charge of his early training depended solely on his father, who for
+several years remained a widower. The paternal duties were adequately
+performed: the son, while a mere youth, was initiated in classical
+learning, and in his thirteenth year he became a successful competitor
+for a bursary or exhibition in Marischal College, Aberdeen. At the
+University, during the usual philosophical course of four years, he
+pursued his studies with diligence and success; and he afterwards became
+an usher in the parish schools of Kemnay and Monymusk.
+
+From early youth, young Skinner had courted the Muse of his country, and
+composed verses in the Scottish dialect. When a mere stripling, he could
+repeat, which he did with enthusiasm, the long poem by James I. of
+"Christ-kirk on the Green;" he afterwards translated it into Latin
+verse; and an imitation of the same poem, entitled "The Monymusk
+Christmas Ba'ing," descriptive of the diversions attendant on the annual
+Christmas gatherings for playing the game of foot-ball at Monymusk,
+which he composed in his sixteenth year, attracting the notice of the
+lady of Sir Archibald Grant, Bart. of Monymusk, brought him the favour
+of that influential family. Though the humble usher of a parish school,
+he was honoured with the patronage of the worthy baronet and his lady,
+became an inmate of their mansion, and had the uncontrolled use of its
+library. The residence of the poet in Monymusk House indirectly conduced
+towards his forming those ecclesiastical sentiments which exercised such
+an important influence on his subsequent career. The Episcopal clergyman
+of the district was frequently a guest at the table of Sir Archibald;
+and by the arguments and persuasive conversation of this person, Mr
+Skinner was induced to enlist his sympathies in the cause of the
+Episcopal or non-juring clergy of Scotland. They bore the latter
+appellation from their refusal, during the existence of the exiled
+family of Stewart, to take the oath of allegiance to the House of
+Hanover. In 1740, on the invitation of Mr Robert Forbes, Episcopal
+minister at Leith, afterwards a bishop, Mr Skinner, in the capacity of
+private tutor to the only son of Mr Sinclair of Scolloway, proceeded to
+Zetland, where he acquired the intimate friendship of the Rev. Mr
+Hunter, the only non-juring clergyman in that remote district. There he
+remained only one year, owing to the death of the elder Mr Sinclair, and
+the removal of his pupil to pursue his studies in a less retired
+locality. He lamented the father's death in Latin, as well as in English
+verse. He left Scolloway with the best wishes of the family; and as a
+substantial proof of the goodwill of his friend Mr Hunter, he received
+in marriage the hand of his eldest daughter.
+
+Returning to Aberdeenshire, he was ordained a presbyter of the Episcopal
+Church, by Bishop Dunbar of Peterhead; and in November 1742, on the
+unanimous invitation of the people, he was appointed to the pastoral
+charge of the congregation at Longside. Uninfluenced by the soarings of
+ambition, he seems to have fixed here, at the outset, a permanent
+habitation: he rented a cottage at Linshart in the vicinity, which,
+though consisting only of a single apartment, besides the kitchen,
+sufficed for the expenditure of his limited emoluments. In every respect
+he realised Goldsmith's description of the village pastor:--
+
+ "A man he was to all the country dear,
+ And passing rich with forty pounds a-year;
+ Remote from towns he ran his godly race,
+ Nor e'er had changed, nor wish'd to change his place."
+
+Secluded, however, as were Mr Skinner's habits, and though he never had
+interfered in the political movements of the period, he did not escape
+his share in those ruthless severities which were visited upon the
+non-juring clergy subsequent to the last Rebellion. His chapel was
+destroyed by the soldiers of the barbarous Duke of Cumberland; and, on
+the plea of his having transgressed the law by preaching to more than
+four persons without subscribing the oath of allegiance, he was, during
+six months, detained a prisoner in the jail of Aberdeen.
+
+Entering on the sacred duties of the pastoral office, Mr Skinner appears
+to have checked the indulgence of his rhyming propensities. His
+subsequent poetical productions, which include the whole of his popular
+songs, were written to please his friends, or gratify the members of his
+family, and without the most distant view to publication. In 1787, he
+writes to Burns, on the subject of Scottish song:--"While I was young, I
+dabbled a good deal in these things; but on getting the black gown, I
+gave it pretty much over, till my daughters grew up, who, being all
+tolerably good singers, plagued me for words to some of their favourite
+tunes, and so extorted those effusions which have made a public
+appearance, beyond my expectations, and contrary to my intentions; at
+the same time, I hope there is nothing to be found in them
+uncharacteristic or unbecoming the cloth, which I would always wish to
+see respected." Some of Mr Skinner's best songs were composed at a
+sitting, while they seldom underwent any revision after being committed
+to paper. To the following incident, his most popular song,
+"Tullochgorum," owed its origin. In the course of a visit he was making
+to a friend in Ellon (not Cullen, as has been stated on the authority of
+Burns), a dispute arose among the guests on the subject of Whig and Tory
+politics, which, becoming somewhat too exciting for the comfort of the
+lady of the house, in order to bring it promptly to a close, she
+requested Mr Skinner to suggest appropriate words for the favourite air,
+"The Reel of Tullochgorum." Mr Skinner readily complied, and, before
+leaving the house, produced what Burns, in a letter to the author,
+characterised as "the best Scotch song ever Scotland saw." The name of
+the lady who made the request to the poet was Mrs Montgomery, and hence
+the allusion in the first stanza of the ballad:--
+
+ "Come gie 's a sang, Montgomery cried,
+ And lay your disputes all aside;
+ What signifies 't for folks to chide
+ For what was done before them?
+ Let Whig and Tory all agree," &c.
+
+Though claiming no distinction as a writer of verses, Mr Skinner did not
+conceal his ambition to excel in another department of literature. In
+1746, in his twenty-fifth year, he published a pamphlet, in defence of
+the non-juring character of his Church, entitled "A Preservative against
+Presbytery." A performance of greater effort, published in 1757, excited
+some attention, and the unqualified commendation of the learned Bishop
+Sherlock. In this production, entitled "A Dissertation on Jacob's
+Prophecy," which was intended as a supplement to a treatise on the same
+subject by Dr Sherlock, the author has established, by a critical
+examination of the original language, that the words in Jacob's prophecy
+(Gen. xlix. 10), rendered "sceptre" and "lawgiver" in the authorised
+version, ought to be translated "tribeship" and "typifier," a difference
+of interpretation which obviates some difficulties respecting the exact
+fulfilment of this remarkable prediction. In a pamphlet printed in 1767,
+Mr Skinner again vindicated the claims and authority of his Church; and
+on this occasion, against the alleged misrepresentations of Mr Norman
+Sievewright, English clergyman at Brechin, who had published a work
+unfavourable to the cause of Scottish Episcopacy. His most important
+work, "An Ecclesiastical History of Scotland, from the first appearance
+of Christianity in that kingdom," was published in the year 1788, in two
+octavo volumes. This publication, which is arranged in the form of
+letters to a friend, and dedicated, in elegant Latin verse, "Ad Filium
+et Episcopum," (to his son, and bishop), by partaking too rigidly of a
+sectarian character, did not attain any measure of success. Mr Skinner's
+other prose works were published after his death, together with a Memoir
+of the author, under the editorial care of his son, Bishop Skinner of
+Aberdeen. These consist of theological essays, in the form of "Letters
+addressed to Candidates for Holy Orders," "A Dissertation on the
+Sheckinah, or Divine Presence with the Church or People of God," and "An
+Essay towards a literal or true radical exposition of the Song of
+Songs," the whole being included in two octavo volumes, which appeared
+in 1809. A third volume was added, containing a collection of the
+author's compositions in Latin verse, and his fugitive songs and ballads
+in the Scottish dialect--the latter portion of this volume being at the
+same time published in a more compendious form, with the title,
+"Amusements of Leisure Hours; or, Poetical Pieces, chiefly in the
+Scottish dialect."
+
+Though living in constant retirement at Linshart, the reputation of the
+Longside pastor, both as a poet and a man of classical taste, became
+widely extended, and persons distinguished in the world of letters
+sought his correspondence and friendship. With Dr Gleig, afterwards
+titular Bishop of Brechin, Dr Doig of Stirling, and John Ramsay of
+Ochtertyre, he maintained an epistolary intercourse for several years.
+Dr Gleig, who edited the _Encyclopaedia Britannica_, consulted Mr Skinner
+respecting various important articles contributed to that valuable
+publication. His correspondence with Doig and Ramsay was chiefly on
+their favourite topic of philology. These two learned friends visited Mr
+Skinner in the summer of 1795, and entertained him for a week at
+Peterhead. This brief period of intellectual intercourse was regarded by
+the poet as the most entirely pleasurable of his existence; and the
+impression of it on the vivid imagination of Mr Ramsay is recorded in a
+Latin eulogy on his northern correspondent, which he subsequently
+transmitted to him. A poetical epistle addressed by Mr Skinner to Robert
+Burns, in commendation of his talents, was characterized by the Ayrshire
+Bard as "the best poetical compliment he had ever received." It led to a
+regular correspondence, which was carried on with much satisfaction to
+both parties. The letters, which chiefly relate to the preparation of
+Johnson's _Musical Museum_, then in the course of publication, have been
+included in his published correspondence. Burns never saw Mr Skinner; he
+had not informed himself as to his locality during the prosecution of
+his northern tour, and had thus the mortification of ascertaining that
+he had been in his neighbourhood, without having formed his personal
+acquaintance. To Mr Skinner's son, whom he accidentally met in Aberdeen
+on his return, he expressed a deep regret for the blunder, as "he would
+have gone twenty miles out of his way to visit the author of
+'Tullochgorum.'"
+
+As a man of ingenuity, various acquirements, and agreeable manners, Mr
+Skinner was held in much estimation among his contemporaries. Whatever
+he read, with the assistance of a commonplace-book, he accurately
+remembered, and could readily turn to account; and, though his library
+was contained in a closet of five feet square, he was abundantly well
+informed on every ordinary topic of conversation. He was fond of
+controversial discussion, and wielded both argument and wit with a power
+alarming to every antagonist. Though keen in debate, he was however
+possessed of a most imperturbable suavity of temper. His conversation
+was of a playful cast, interspersed with anecdote, and free from every
+affectation of learning. As a clergyman, Mr Skinner enjoyed the esteem
+and veneration of his flock. Besides efficiently discharging his
+ministerial duties, he practised gratuitously as a physician, having
+qualified himself, by acquiring a competent acquaintance with the
+healing art at the medical classes in Marischal College. His pulpit
+duties were widely acceptable; but his discourses, though edifying and
+instructive, were more the result of the promptitude of the preacher
+than the effects of a painstaking preparation. He abandoned the aid of
+the manuscript in the pulpit, on account of the untoward occurrence of
+his notes being scattered by a startled fowl, in the early part of his
+ministry, while he was addressing his people from the door of his house,
+after the wanton destruction of his chapel.
+
+In a scene less calculated to invite poetic inspiration no votary of the
+muse had ever resided. On every side of his lonely dwelling extended a
+wild uncultivated plain; nor for miles around did any other human
+habitation relieve the monotony of this cheerless solitude. In her
+gayest moods, Nature never wore a pleasing aspect in _Long-gate_, nor
+did the distant prospect compensate for the dreary gloominess of the
+surrounding landscape. For his poetic suggestions Mr Skinner was wholly
+dependent on the singular activity of his fancy; as he derived his chief
+happiness in his communings with an attached flock, and in the endearing
+intercourse of his family. Of his children, who were somewhat numerous
+he contrived to afford the whole, both sons and daughters, a superior
+education; and he had the satisfaction, for a long period of years, to
+address one of his sons as the bishop of his diocese.
+
+The death of Mr Skinner's wife, in the year 1799, fifty-eight years
+after their marriage, was the most severe trial which he seems to have
+experienced. In a Latin elegy, he gave expression to the deep sense
+which he entertained of his bereavement. In 1807, his son, Bishop
+Skinner, having sustained a similar bereavement, invited his aged father
+to share the comforts of his house; and after ministering at Longside
+for the remarkably lengthened incumbency of sixty-five years, Mr Skinner
+removed to Aberdeen. But a greater change was at hand; on the 16th of
+June 1807, in less than a week after his arrival, he was suddenly seized
+with illness, and almost immediately expired. His remains were interred
+in the churchyard of Longside; and the flock to which he had so long
+ministered placed over the grave a handsome monument, bearing, on a
+marble tablet, an elegant tribute to the remembrance of his virtues and
+learning. At the residence of Bishop Skinner, he had seen his
+descendants in the fourth generation.
+
+Of Mr Skinner's songs, printed in this collection, the most popular are
+"Tullochgorum," "John o' Badenyon," and "The Ewie wi' the Crookit Horn."
+The whole are pervaded by sprightliness and good-humoured pleasantry.
+Though possessing the fault of being somewhat too lengthy, no
+song-compositions of any modern writer in Scottish verse have, with the
+exception of those of Burns, maintained a stronger hold of the Scottish
+heart, or been more commonly sung in the social circle.
+
+
+
+
+TULLOCHGORUM.
+
+
+ I.
+
+ Come gie 's a sang, Montgomery cried,
+ And lay your disputes all aside,
+ What signifies 't for folks to chide
+ For what was done before them:
+ Let Whig and Tory all agree,
+ Whig and Tory, Whig and Tory,
+ Whig and Tory all agree,
+ To drop their Whig-mig-morum;
+ Let Whig and Tory all agree
+ To spend the night wi' mirth and glee,
+ And cheerful sing alang wi' me
+ The Reel o' Tullochgorum.
+
+
+ II.
+
+ O Tullochgorum 's my delight,
+ It gars us a' in ane unite,
+ And ony sumph that keeps a spite,
+ In conscience I abhor him:
+ For blythe and cheerie we'll be a',
+ Blythe and cheerie, blythe and cheerie,
+ Blythe and cheerie we'll be a',
+ And make a happy quorum;
+ For blythe and cheerie we'll be a'
+ As lang as we hae breath to draw,
+ And dance, till we be like to fa',
+ The Reel o' Tullochgorum.
+
+
+ III.
+
+ What needs there be sae great a fraise
+ Wi' dringing dull Italian lays?
+ I wadna gie our ain Strathspeys
+ For half a hunder score o' them;
+ They're dowf and dowie at the best,
+ Dowf and dowie, dowf and dowie,
+ Dowf and dowie at the best,
+ Wi' a' their variorum;
+ They're dowf and dowie at the best,
+ Their _allegros_ and a' the rest,
+ They canna' please a Scottish taste,
+ Compared wi' Tullochgorum.
+
+
+ IV.
+
+ Let warldly worms their minds oppress
+ Wi' fears o' want and double cess,
+ And sullen sots themsells distress
+ Wi' keeping up decorum:
+ Shall we sae sour and sulky sit,
+ Sour and sulky, sour and sulky,
+ Sour and sulky shall we sit,
+ Like old philosophorum?
+ Shall we sae sour and sulky sit,
+ Wi' neither sense, nor mirth, nor wit,
+ Nor ever try to shake a fit
+ To th' Reel o' Tullochgorum?
+
+
+ V.
+
+ May choicest blessings aye attend
+ Each honest, open-hearted friend,
+ And calm and quiet be his end,
+ And a' that's good watch o'er him;
+ May peace and plenty be his lot,
+ Peace and plenty, peace and plenty,
+ Peace and plenty be his lot,
+ And dainties a great store o' them:
+ May peace and plenty be his lot,
+ Unstain'd by any vicious spot,
+ And may he never want a groat,
+ That 's fond o' Tullochgorum!
+
+
+ VI.
+
+ But for the sullen, frumpish fool,
+ That loves to be oppression's tool,
+ May envy gnaw his rotten soul,
+ And discontent devour him;
+ May dool and sorrow be his chance,
+ Dool and sorrow, dool and sorrow,
+ Dool and sorrow be his chance,
+ And nane say, Wae 's me for him!
+ May dool and sorrow be his chance,
+ Wi' a' the ills that come frae France,
+ Wha e'er he be that winna dance
+ The Reel o' Tullochgorum.
+
+
+
+
+JOHN O' BADENYON
+
+
+ I.
+
+ When first I cam to be a man
+ Of twenty years or so,
+ I thought myself a handsome youth,
+ And fain the world would know;
+ In best attire I stept abroad,
+ With spirits brisk and gay,
+ And here and there and everywhere
+ Was like a morn in May;
+ No care I had, nor fear of want,
+ But rambled up and down,
+ And for a beau I might have past
+ In country or in town;
+ I still was pleased where'er I went,
+ And when I was alone,
+ I tuned my pipe and pleased myself
+ Wi' John o' Badenyon.
+
+
+ II.
+
+ Now in the days of youthful prime
+ A mistress I must find,
+ For _love_, I heard, gave one an air
+ And e'en improved the mind:
+ On Phillis fair above the rest
+ Kind fortune fix'd my eyes,
+ Her piercing beauty struck my heart,
+ And she became my choice;
+ To Cupid now, with hearty prayer,
+ I offer'd many a vow;
+ And danced and sung, and sigh'd and swore,
+ As other lovers do;
+ But, when at last I breathed my flame,
+ I found her cold as stone;
+ I left the girl, and tuned my pipe
+ To John o' Badenyon.
+
+
+ III.
+
+ When _love_ had thus my heart beguiled
+ With foolish hopes and vain;
+ To _friendship's_ port I steer'd my course,
+ And laugh'd at lovers' pain;
+ A friend I got by lucky chance,
+ 'Twas something like divine,
+ An honest friend 's a precious gift,
+ And such a gift was mine;
+ And now whatever might betide
+ A happy man was I,
+ In any strait I knew to whom
+ I freely might apply.
+ A strait soon came: my friend I try'd;
+ He heard, and spurn'd my moan;
+ I hied me home, and tuned my pipe
+ To John o' Badenyon.
+
+
+ IV.
+
+ Methought I should be wiser next,
+ And would a _patriot_ turn,
+ Began to doat on Johnny Wilkes
+ And cry up Parson Horne.[1]
+ Their manly spirit I admired,
+ And praised their noble zeal,
+ Who had with flaming tongue and pen
+ Maintain'd the public weal;
+ But e'er a month or two had pass'd,
+ I found myself betray'd,
+ 'Twas _self_ and _party_, after all,
+ For a' the stir they made;
+ At last I saw the factious knaves
+ Insult the very throne,
+ I cursed them a', and tuned my pipe
+ To John o' Badenyon.
+
+
+ V.
+
+ What next to do I mused awhile,
+ Still hoping to succeed;
+ I pitch'd on _books_ for company,
+ And gravely tried to read:
+ I bought and borrow'd everywhere,
+ And studied night and day,
+ Nor miss'd what dean or doctor wrote
+ That happen'd in my way:
+ Philosophy I now esteem'd
+ The ornament of youth,
+ And carefully through many a page
+ I hunted after truth.
+ A thousand various schemes I tried,
+ And yet was pleased with none;
+ I threw them by, and tuned my pipe
+ To John o' Badenyon.
+
+
+ VI.
+
+ And now, ye youngsters everywhere,
+ That wish to make a show,
+ Take heed in time, nor fondly hope
+ For happiness below;
+ What you may fancy pleasure here,
+ Is but an empty name,
+ And _girls_, and _friends_, and _books_, and so,
+ You 'll find them all the same.
+ Then be advised, and warning take
+ From such a man as me;
+ I 'm neither Pope nor Cardinal,
+ Nor one of high degree;
+ You 'll meet displeasure everywhere;
+ Then do as I have done,
+ E'en tune your pipe and please yourselves
+ With John o' Badenyon.
+
+
+[1] This song was composed when Wilkes, Horne, and others, were exciting
+a commotion about liberty.
+
+
+
+
+THE EWIE WI' THE CROOKIT HORN.
+
+
+ I.
+
+ Were I but able to rehearse
+ My Ewie's praise in proper verse,
+ I 'd sound it forth as loud and fierce
+ As ever piper's drone could blaw;
+ The Ewie wi' the crookit horn,
+ Wha had kent her might hae sworn
+ Sic a Ewe was never born,
+ Hereabout nor far awa';
+ Sic a Ewe was never born,
+ Hereabout nor far awa'.
+
+
+ II.
+
+ I never needed tar nor keil
+ To mark her upo' hip or heel,
+ Her crookit horn did as weel
+ To ken her by amo' them a';
+ She never threaten'd scab nor rot,
+ But keepit aye her ain jog-trot,
+ Baith to the fauld and to the cot,
+ Was never sweir to lead nor caw;
+ Baith to the fauld and to the cot, &c.
+
+
+ III.
+
+ Cauld nor hunger never dang her,
+ Wind nor wet could never wrang her,
+ Anes she lay an ouk and langer
+ Furth aneath a wreath o' snaw:
+ Whan ither ewies lap the dyke,
+ And eat the kail, for a' the tyke,
+ My Ewie never play'd the like,
+ But tyc'd about the barn wa';
+ My Ewie never play'd the like, &c.
+
+
+ IV.
+
+ A better or a thriftier beast
+ Nae honest man could weel hae wist,
+ For, silly thing, she never mist
+ To hae ilk year a lamb or twa':
+ The first she had I gae to Jock,
+ To be to him a kind o' stock,
+ And now the laddie has a flock
+ O' mair nor thirty head ava';
+ And now the laddie has a flock, &c.
+
+
+ V.
+
+ I lookit aye at even' for her,
+ Lest mishanter should come o'er her,
+ Or the fowmart might devour her,
+ Gin the beastie bade awa;
+ My Ewie wi' the crookit horn,
+ Well deserved baith girse and corn,
+ Sic a Ewe was never born,
+ Hereabout nor far awa';
+ Sic a Ewe was never born, &c.
+
+
+ VI.
+
+ Yet last ouk, for a' my keeping,
+ (Wha can speak it without _greeting_?)
+ A villain cam' when I was sleeping,
+ Sta' my Ewie, horn, and a':
+ I sought her sair upo' the morn,
+ And down aneath a buss o' thorn
+ I got my Ewie's crookit horn,
+ But my Ewie was awa';
+ I got my Ewie's crookit horn, &c.
+
+
+ VII.
+
+ O! gin I had the loon that did it,
+ Sworn I have as well as said it,
+ Though a' the warld should forbid it,
+ I wad gie his neck a thra':
+ I never met wi' sic a turn
+ As this sin' ever I was born,
+ My Ewie, wi' the crookit horn,
+ Silly Ewie, stown awa';
+ My Ewie wi' the crookit horn, &c.
+
+
+ VIII.
+
+ O! had she died o' crook or cauld,
+ As Ewies do when they grow auld,
+ It wad na been, by mony fauld,
+ Sae sair a heart to nane o's a':
+ For a' the claith that we hae worn,
+ Frae her and her's sae aften shorn,
+ The loss o' her we could hae born,
+ Had fair strae-death ta'en her awa';
+ The loss o' her we could hae born, &c.
+
+
+ IX.
+
+ But thus, poor thing, to lose her life,
+ Aneath a bleedy villain's knife,
+ I 'm really fleyt that our guidwife
+ Will never win aboon 't ava:
+ O! a' ye bards benorth Kinghorn,
+ Call your muses up and mourn,
+ Our Ewie wi' the crookit horn
+ Stown frae 's, and fell'd and a'!
+ Our Ewie wi' the crookit horn, &c.
+
+
+
+
+O! WHY SHOULD OLD AGE SO MUCH WOUND US?
+
+TUNE--_"Dumbarton Drums."_
+
+
+ I.
+
+ O! why should old age so much wound us?[2]
+ There is nothing in it all to confound us:
+ For how happy now am I,
+ With my old wife sitting by,
+ And our bairns and our oys all around us;
+ For how happy now am I, &c.
+
+
+ II.
+
+ We began in the warld wi' naething,
+ And we 've jogg'd on, and toil'd for the ae thing;
+ We made use of what we had,
+ And our thankful hearts were glad,
+ When we got the bit meat and the claithing;
+ We made use of what we had, &c.
+
+
+ III.
+
+ We have lived all our lifetime contented,
+ Since the day we became first acquainted:
+ It 's true we 've been but poor,
+ And we are so to this hour,
+ But we never yet repined or lamented;
+ It 's true we 've been but poor, &c.
+
+
+ IV.
+
+ When we had any stock, we ne'er vauntit,
+ Nor did we hing our heads when we wantit;
+ But we always gave a share
+ Of the little we could spare,
+ When it pleased a kind Heaven to grant it;
+ But we always gave a share, &c.
+
+
+ V.
+
+ We never laid a scheme to be wealthy,
+ By means that were cunning or stealthy;
+ But we always had the bliss--
+ And what further could we wiss?--
+ To be pleased with ourselves, and be healthy;
+ But we always had the bliss, &c.
+
+
+ VI.
+
+ What though we cannot boast of our guineas?
+ We have plenty of Jockies and Jeanies;
+ And these, I 'm certain, are
+ More desirable by far
+ Than a bag full of poor yellow steinies;
+ And these, I am certain, are, &c.
+
+
+ VII.
+
+ We have seen many wonder and ferly,
+ Of changes that almost are yearly,
+ Among rich folks up and down,
+ Both in country and in town,
+ Who now live but scrimply and barely;
+ Among rich folks up and down, &c.
+
+
+ VIII.
+
+ Then why should people brag of prosperity?
+ A straiten'd life we see is no rarity;
+ Indeed, we 've been in want,
+ And our living 's been but scant,
+ Yet we never were reduced to need charity;
+ Indeed, we 've been in want, &c.
+
+
+ IX.
+
+ In this house we first came together,
+ Where we 've long been a father and mither;
+ And though not of stone and lime,
+ It will last us all our time;
+ And I hope we shall ne'er need anither;
+ And though not of stone and lime, &c.
+
+
+ X.
+
+ And when we leave this poor habitation,
+ We 'll depart with a good commendation;
+ We 'll go hand in hand, I wiss,
+ To a better house than this,
+ To make room for the next generation;
+ We 'll go hand in hand, I wiss, &c.
+
+ Then why should old age so much wound us? &c.
+
+
+[2] This tune requires O to be added at the end of each of the long
+lines, but in reading the song the O is better omitted.
+
+
+
+
+STILL IN THE WRONG.
+
+
+ I.
+
+ It has long been my fate to be thought in the _wrong_,
+ And my fate it continues to be;
+ The wise and the wealthy still make it their song,
+ And the clerk and the cottar agree.
+ There is nothing I do, and there 's nothing I say,
+ But some one or other thinks wrong;
+ And to please them I find there is no other way,
+ But do nothing, and still hold my tongue.
+
+
+ II.
+
+ Says the free-thinking Sophist, "The times are refined
+ In sense to a wondrous degree;
+ Your old-fashion'd faith does but fetter the mind,
+ And it 's _wrong_ not to seek to be free."
+ Says the sage Politician, "Your natural share
+ Of talents would raise you much higher,
+ Than thus to crawl on in your present low sphere,
+ And it 's _wrong_ in you not to aspire."
+
+
+ III.
+
+ Says the Man of the World, "Your dull stoic life
+ Is surely deserving of blame?
+ You have children to care for, as well as a wife,
+ And it 's _wrong_ not to lay up for them."
+ Says the fat Gormandiser, "To eat and to drink
+ Is the true _summum bonum_ of man:
+ Life is nothing without it, whate'er you may think,
+ And it 's _wrong_ not to live while you can."
+
+
+ IV.
+
+ Says the new-made Divine, "Your old modes we reject,
+ Nor give ourselves trouble about them:
+ It is manners and dress that procure us respect,
+ And it 's _wrong_ to look for it without them."
+ Says the grave peevish Saint, in a fit of the spleen,
+ "Ah! me, but your manners are vile:
+ A parson that 's blythe is a shame to be seen,
+ And it 's _wrong_ in you even to smile."
+
+
+ V.
+
+ Says the Clown, when I tell him to do what he ought,
+ "Sir, whatever your character be,
+ To obey you in this I will never be brought,
+ And it 's _wrong_ to be meddling with me."
+ Says my Wife, when she wants this or that for the house,
+ "Our matters to ruin must go:
+ Your reading and writing is not worth a souse,
+ And it 's _wrong_ to neglect the house so."
+
+
+ VI.
+
+ Thus all judge of me by their taste or their wit,
+ And I 'm censured by old and by young,
+ Who in one point agree, though in others they split,
+ That in something I 'm still in the _wrong_.
+ But let them say on to the end of the song,
+ It shall make no impression on me:
+ If to differ from such be to be in the _wrong_,
+ In the _wrong_ I hope always to be.
+
+
+
+
+LIZZY LIBERTY.
+
+TUNE--_"Tibbie Fowler i' the Glen."_
+
+
+ I.
+
+ There lives a lassie i' the braes,
+ And Lizzy Liberty they ca' her,
+ When she has on her Sunday's claes,
+ Ye never saw a lady brawer;
+ So a' the lads are wooing at her,
+ Courting her, but canna get her;
+ Bonny Lizzy Liberty, there 's ow'r mony wooing at her!
+
+
+ II.
+
+ Her mither ware a tabbit mutch,
+ Her father was an honest dyker,
+ She 's a black-eyed wanton witch,
+ Ye winna shaw me mony like her:
+ So a' the lads are wooing at her,
+ Courting her, but canna get her;
+ Bonny Lizzy Liberty, wow, sae mony 's wooing at her!
+
+
+ III.
+
+ A kindly lass she is, I 'm seer,
+ Has fowth o' sense and smeddum in her,
+ And nae a swankie far nor near,
+ But tries wi' a' his might to win her:
+ They 're wooing at her, fain would hae her,
+ Courting her, but canna get her;
+ Bonny Lizzy Liberty, there 's ow'r mony wooing at her!
+
+
+ IV.
+
+ For kindly though she be, nae doubt,
+ She manna thole the marriage tether,
+ But likes to rove and rink about,
+ Like Highland cowt amo' the heather:
+ Yet a' the lads are wooing at her,
+ Courting her, but canna get her;
+ Bonny Lizzy Liberty, wow, sae mony 's wooing at her.
+
+
+ V.
+
+ It 's seven year, and some guid mair,
+ Syn Dutch Mynheer made courtship till her,
+ A merchant bluff and fu' o' care,
+ Wi' chuffy cheeks, and bags o' siller;
+ So Dutch Mynheer was wooing at her,
+ Courting her, but cudna get her;
+ Bonny Lizzy Liberty has ow'r mony wooing at her.
+
+
+ VI.
+
+ Neist to him came Baltic John,
+ Stept up the brae, and leukit at her,
+ Syne wear his wa', wi' heavy moan,
+ And in a month or twa forgat her:
+ Baltic John was wooing at her,
+ Courting her, but cudna get her;
+ Filthy elf, she 's nae herself, wi' sae mony wooing at her.
+
+
+ VII.
+
+ Syne after him cam' Yankie Doodle,
+ Frae hyne ayont the muckle water;
+ Though Yankie 's nae yet worth a boddle,
+ Wi' might and main he would be at her:
+ Yankie Doodle 's wooing at her,
+ Courting her, but canna get her;
+ Bonny Lizzy Liberty, wow, sae mony 's wooing at her.
+
+
+ VIII.
+
+ Now Monkey French is in a roar,
+ And swears that nane but he sall hae her,
+ Though he sud wade through bluid and gore,
+ It 's nae the king sall keep him frae her:
+ So Monkey French is wooing at her,
+ Courting her, but canna get her;
+ Bonny Lizzy Liberty has ow'r mony wooing at her.
+
+
+ IX.
+
+ For France, nor yet her Flanders' frien',
+ Need na think that she 'll come to them;
+ They 've casten aff wi' a' their kin,
+ And grace and guid have flown frae them;
+ They 're wooing at her, fain wad hae her,
+ Courting her, but canna get her;
+ Bonny Lizzy Liberty, wow, sae mony 's wooing at her.
+
+
+ X.
+
+ A stately chiel they ca' John Bull
+ Is unco thrang and glaikit wi' her;
+ And gin he cud get a' his wull,
+ There 's nane can say what he wad gi'e her:
+ Johnny Bull is wooing at her,
+ Courting her, but canna get her;
+ Filthy Ted, she 'll never wed, as lang 's sae mony 's wooing at her.
+
+
+ XI.
+
+ Even Irish Teague, ayont Belfast,
+ Wadna care to speir about her;
+ And swears, till he sall breathe his last,
+ He 'll never happy be without her:
+ Irish Teague is wooing at her,
+ Courting her, but canna get her;
+ Bonny Lizzy Liberty has ow'r mony wooing at her.
+
+
+ XII.
+
+ But Donald Scot 's the happy lad,
+ Though a' the lave sud try to rate him;
+ Whan he steps up the brae sae glad,
+ She disna ken maist whare to set him:
+ Donald Scot is wooing at her,
+ Courting her, will maybe get her;
+ Bonny Lizzy Liberty, wow, sae mony 's wooing at her.
+
+
+ XIII.
+
+ Now, Donald, tak' a frien's advice--
+ I ken fu' weel ye fain wad hae her;
+ As ye are happy, sae be wise,
+ And ha'd ye wi' a smackie frae her:
+ Ye 're wooing at her, fain wad hae her,
+ Courting her, will maybe get her;
+ Bonny Lizzy Liberty, there 's ow'r mony wooing at her.
+
+
+ XIV.
+
+ Ye 're weel, and wat'sna, lad, they 're sayin',
+ Wi' getting leave to dwall aside her;
+ And gin ye had her a' your ain,
+ Ye might na find it mows to guide her:
+ Ye 're wooing at her, fain wad hae her,
+ Courting her, will maybe get her;
+ Cunning quean, she 's ne'er be mine, as lang 's sae mony 's wooing at her.
+
+
+
+
+THE STIPENDLESS PARSON.
+
+TUNE--_"A Cobbler there was,"_ &c.
+
+
+ I.
+
+ How happy a life does the Parson possess,
+ Who would be no greater, nor fears to be less;
+ Who depends on his book and his gown for support,
+ And derives no preferment from conclave or court!
+ Derry down, &c.
+
+
+ II.
+
+ Without glebe or manse settled on him by law,
+ No stipend to sue for, nor vic'rage to draw;
+ In discharge of his office he holds him content,
+ With a croft and a garden, for which he pays rent.
+ Derry down, &c.
+
+
+ III.
+
+ With a neat little cottage and furniture plain,
+ And a spare room to welcome a friend now and then;
+ With a good-humour'd wife in his fortune to share,
+ And ease him at all times of family care.
+ Derry down, &c.
+
+
+ IV.
+
+ With a few of the Fathers, the oldest and best,
+ And some modern extracts pick'd out from the rest;
+ With a Bible in Latin, and Hebrew, and Greek,
+ To afford him instruction each day of the week.
+ Derry down, &c.
+
+
+ V.
+
+ What children he has, if any are given,
+ He thankfully trusts to the kindness of Heaven;
+ To religion and virtue he trains them while young,
+ And with such a provision he does them no wrong.
+ Derry down, &c.
+
+
+ VI.
+
+ With labour below, and with help from above,
+ He cares for his flock, and is bless'd with their love:
+ Though his living, perhaps, in the main may be scant,
+ He is sure, while they have, that he 'll ne'er be in want.
+ Derry down, &c.
+
+
+ VII.
+
+ With no worldly projects nor hurries perplex'd,
+ He sits in his closet and studies his text;
+ And while he converses with Moses or Paul,
+ He envies not bishop, nor dean in his stall.
+ Derry down, &c.
+
+
+ VIII.
+
+ Not proud to the poor, nor a slave to the great,
+ Neither factious in church, nor pragmatic in state,
+ He keeps himself quiet within his own sphere,
+ And finds work sufficient in preaching and prayer.
+ Derry down, &c.
+
+
+ IX.
+
+ In what little dealings he 's forced to transact,
+ He determines with plainness and candour to act;
+ And the great point on which his ambition is set,
+ Is to leave at the last neither riches nor debt.
+ Derry down, &c.
+
+
+ X.
+
+ Thus calmly he steps through the valley of life,
+ Unencumber'd with wealth, and a stranger to strife;
+ On the bustlings around him unmoved he can look,
+ And at home always pleased with his wife and his book.
+ Derry down, &c.
+
+
+ XI.
+
+ And when, in old age, he drops into the grave,
+ This humble remembrance he wishes to have:
+ "By good men respected, by the evil oft tried,
+ Contented he lived, and lamented he died!"
+ Derry down, &c.
+
+
+
+
+THE MAN OF ROSS.
+
+TUNE--_"Miss Ross's Reel."_
+
+
+ I.
+
+ When fops and fools together prate,
+ O'er punch or tea, of this or that,
+ What silly poor unmeaning chat
+ Does all their talk engross!
+ A nobler theme employs my lays,
+ And thus my honest voice I raise
+ In well-deserved strains to praise
+ The worthy Man of Ross.
+
+
+ II.
+
+ His lofty soul (would it were mine!)
+ Scorns every selfish, low design,
+ And ne'er was known to repine,
+ At any earthly loss:
+ But still contented, frank, and free,
+ In every state, whate'er it be,
+ Serene and staid we always see
+ The worthy Man of Ross.
+
+
+ III.
+
+ Let misers hug their worldly store,
+ And gripe and pinch to make it more;
+ Their gold and silver's shining ore
+ He counts it all but dross:
+ 'Tis better treasure he desires;
+ A surer stock his passion fires,
+ And mild benevolence inspires
+ The worthy Man of Ross.
+
+
+ IV.
+
+ When want assails the widow's cot,
+ Or sickness strikes the poor man's hut,
+ When blasting winds or foggy rot
+ Augment the farmer's loss:
+ The sufferer straight knows where to go,
+ With all his wants and all his woe;
+ For glad experience leads him to
+ The worthy Man of Ross.
+
+
+ V.
+
+ This Man of Ross I 'll daily sing,
+ With vocal note and lyric string,
+ And duly, when I 've drank the king,
+ He 'll be my second toss.
+ May Heaven its choicest blessings send
+ On such a man, and such a friend;
+ And still may all that 's good attend
+ The worthy Man of Ross.
+
+
+ VI.
+
+ Now, if you ask about his name,
+ And where he lives with such a fame,
+ Indeed, I 'll say you are to blame,
+ For truly, _inter nos_,
+ 'Tis what belongs to you and me,
+ And all of high or low degree,
+ In every sphere to try to be
+ The worthy Man of Ross.
+
+
+
+
+A SONG ON THE TIMES.
+
+TUNE--_"Broom of the Cowdenknows."_
+
+
+ I.
+
+ When I began the world first,
+ It was not as 'tis now;
+ For all was plain and simple then,
+ And friends were kind and true:
+ Oh, the times, the weary, weary times!
+ The times that I now see;
+ I think the world 's all gone wrong,
+ From what it used to be.
+
+
+ II.
+
+ There were not then high capering heads,
+ Prick'd up from ear to ear;
+ And cloaks and caps were rarities,
+ For gentle folks to wear:
+ Oh, the times, the weary, weary times! &c.
+
+
+ III.
+
+ There 's not an upstart mushroom now,
+ But what sets up for taste;
+ And not a lass in all the land,
+ But must be lady-dress'd:
+ Oh, the times, the weary, weary times! &c.
+
+
+ IV.
+
+ Our young men married then for love,
+ So did our lasses too;
+ And children loved their parents dear,
+ As children ought to do:
+ Oh, the times, the weary, weary times! &c.
+
+
+ V.
+
+ For oh, the times are sadly changed--
+ A heavy change indeed!
+ For truth and friendship are no more,
+ And honesty is fled:
+ Oh, the times, the weary, weary times! &c.
+
+
+ VI.
+
+ There 's nothing now prevails but pride,
+ Among both high and low;
+ And strife, and greed, and vanity,
+ Is all that 's minded now:
+ Oh, the times, the weary, weary times! &c.
+
+
+ VII.
+
+ When I look through the world wide,
+ How times and fashions go,
+ It draws the tears from both my eyes,
+ And fills my heart with woe:
+ Oh, the times, the weary, weary times!
+ The times that I now see;
+ I wish the world were at an end,
+ For it will not mend for me!
+
+
+
+
+WILLIAM CAMERON.
+
+
+William Cameron, minister of Kirknewton, in the county of Edinburgh, was
+educated in Marischal College, Aberdeen, where he was a pupil of Dr
+Beattie, "who ever after entertained for him much esteem." A letter,
+addressed to him by this eminent professor, in 1774, has been published
+by Sir William Forbes;[3] and his name is introduced at the beginning of
+Dr Beattie's "Letter to the Rev. Hugh Blair, D.D., on the Improvement of
+Psalmody in Scotland. 1778, 8vo:"--"The message you lately sent me, by
+my friend Mr Cameron, has determined me to give you my thoughts at some
+length upon the subject of it."
+
+He died in his manse, on the 17th of November 1811, in the 60th year of
+his age, and the 26th year of his ministry. He was a considerable writer
+of verses, and his compositions are generally of a respectable order. He
+was the author of a "Collection of Poems," printed at Edinburgh in 1790,
+in a duodecimo volume; and in 1781, along with the celebrated John Logan
+and Dr Morrison, minister of Canisbay, he contributed towards the
+formation of a collection of Paraphrases from Scripture, which, being
+approved of by the General Assembly, are still used in public worship
+in the Church of Scotland. A posthumous volume of verses by Mr Cameron,
+entitled "Poems on Several Occasions," was published by subscription in
+1813--8vo, pp. 132. The following song, which was composed by Mr
+Cameron, on the restoration of the forfeited estates by Act of
+Parliament, in 1784, is copied from Johnson's "Musical Museum." It
+affords a very favourable specimen of the author's poetical talents.
+
+
+[3] Forbes's "Life of Beattie," vol. i. p. 375.
+
+
+
+
+AS O'ER THE HIGHLAND HILLS I HIED.
+
+TUNE--_"As I came in by Auchindoun."_
+
+
+ I.
+
+ As o'er the Highland hills I hied,
+ The Camerons in array I spied;
+ Lochiel's proud standard waving wide,
+ In all its ancient glory.
+ The martial pipe loud pierced the sky,
+ The bard arose, resounding high
+ Their valour, faith, and loyalty,
+ That shine in Scottish story.
+
+ No more the trumpet calls to arms,
+ Awaking battle's fierce alarms,
+ But every hero's bosom warms
+ With songs of exultation.
+ While brave Lochiel at length regains,
+ Through toils of war, his native plains,
+ And, won by glorious wounds, attains
+ His high paternal station.
+
+ Let now the voice of joy prevail,
+ And echo wide from hill to vale;
+ Ye warlike clans, arise and hail
+ Your laurell'd chiefs returning.
+ O'er every mountain, every isle,
+ Let peace in all her lustre smile,
+ And discord ne'er her day defile
+ With sullen shades of mourning.
+
+ M'Leod, M'Donald, join the strain,
+ M'Pherson, Fraser, and M'Lean;
+ Through all your bounds let gladness reign,
+ Both prince and patriot praising;
+ Whose generous bounty richly pours
+ The streams of plenty round your shores;
+ To Scotia's hills their pride restores,
+ Her faded honours raising.
+
+ Let all the joyous banquet share,
+ Nor e'er let Gothic grandeur dare,
+ With scowling brow, to overbear,
+ A vassal's right invading.
+ Let Freedom's conscious sons disdain
+ To crowd his fawning, timid train,
+ Nor even own his haughty reign,
+ Their dignity degrading.
+
+ Ye northern chiefs, whose rage unbroke
+ Has still repell'd the tyrant's shock;
+ Who ne'er have bow'd beneath his yoke,
+ With servile base prostration;--
+ Let each now train his trusty band,
+ 'Gainst foreign foes alone to stand,
+ With undivided heart and hand,
+ For Freedom, King, and Nation.
+
+
+
+
+MRS JOHN HUNTER.
+
+
+Anne Home was born in the year 1742. She was the eldest daughter of
+Robert Home, of Greenlaw, in Berwickshire, surgeon of Burgoyne's
+Regiment of Light Horse, and afterwards physician in Savoy. By
+contracting an early marriage, in which affection overcame more
+prudential considerations, both her parents gave offence to their
+relations, who refused to render them pecuniary assistance. Her father,
+though connected with many families of rank, and himself the son of a
+landowner, was consequently obliged to depend, in the early part of his
+career, on his professional exertions for the support of his family. His
+circumstances appear subsequently to have been more favourable. In July
+1771, Miss Home became the wife of John Hunter, the distinguished
+anatomist, to whom she bore two children. She afforded evidence of her
+early poetical talent, by composing, before she had completed her
+twenty-third year, the song beginning, "Adieu! ye streams that smoothly
+glide." This appeared in the _Lark_, an Edinburgh periodical, in the
+year 1765. In 1802, she published a collection of her poems, in an
+octavo volume, which she inscribed to her son, John Banks Hunter.
+
+During the lifetime of her distinguished husband, Mrs Hunter was in the
+habit of receiving at her table, and sharing in the conversation of, the
+chief literary persons of her time. Her evening _conversazioni_ were
+frequented by many of the more learned, as well as fashionable persons
+in the metropolis. On the death of her husband, which took place in
+1793, she sought greater privacy, though she still continued to reside
+in London. By those who were admitted to her intimacy, she was not more
+respected for her superior talents and intelligence, than held in esteem
+for her unaffected simplicity of manners. She was the life of her social
+parties, sustaining the happiness of the hour by her elegant
+conversation, and encouraging the diffident by her approbation. Amiable
+in disposition, she was possessed of a beautiful countenance and a
+handsome person. She wrote verses with facility, but she sought no
+distinction as a poet, preferring to be regarded as a good housewife and
+an agreeable member of society. In her latter years, she obtained
+amusement in resuming the song-writing habits of her youth, and in
+corresponding with her more intimate friends. She likewise derived
+pleasure in the cultivation of music: she played with skill, and sung
+with singular grace.
+
+Mrs Hunter died at London, on the 7th January 1821, after a lingering
+illness. Several of her lyrics had for some years appeared in the
+collections of national poetry. Those selected for the present work have
+long maintained a wide popularity. The songs evince a delicacy of
+thought, combined with a force and sweetness of expression.
+
+
+
+
+THE INDIAN DEATH-SONG.
+
+
+ The sun sets in night, and the stars shun the day,
+ But glory remains when their lights fade away.
+ Begin, ye tormentors, your threats are in vain,
+ For the son of Alknomook will never complain.
+
+ Remember the arrows he shot from his bow;
+ Remember your chiefs by his hatchet laid low.
+ Why so slow? Do you wait till I shrink from the pain?
+ No! the son of Alknomook shall never complain.
+
+ Remember the wood where in ambush we lay,
+ And the scalps which we bore from your nation away:
+ Now the flame rises fast; ye exult in my pain;
+ But the son of Alknomook can never complain.
+
+ I go to the land where my father is gone;
+ His ghost shall rejoice in the fame of his son.
+ Death comes, like a friend, to relieve me from pain,
+ And thy son, O Alknomook! has scorn'd to complain.
+
+
+
+
+MY MOTHER BIDS ME BIND MY HAIR.
+
+
+ My mother bids me bind my hair
+ With bands of rosy hue,
+ Tie up my sleeves with ribbons rare,
+ And lace my boddice blue.
+
+ "For why," she cries, "sit still and weep,
+ While others dance and play?"
+ Alas! I scarce can go or creep,
+ While Lubin is away.
+
+ 'Tis sad to think the days are gone,
+ When those we love were near;
+ I sit upon this mossy stone,
+ And sigh when none can hear.
+
+ And while I spin my flaxen thread,
+ And sing my simple lay,
+ The village seems asleep or dead,
+ Now Lubin is away.
+
+
+
+
+THE FLOWERS OF THE FOREST.[4]
+
+
+ Adieu! ye streams that smoothly glide,
+ Through mazy windings o'er the plain;
+ I 'll in some lonely cave reside,
+ And ever mourn my faithful swain.
+
+ Flower of the forest was my love,
+ Soft as the sighing summer's gale,
+ Gentle and constant as the dove,
+ Blooming as roses in the vale.
+
+ Alas! by Tweed my love did stray,
+ For me he search'd the banks around;
+ But, ah! the sad and fatal day,
+ My love, the pride of swains, was drown'd.
+
+ Now droops the willow o'er the stream;
+ Pale stalks his ghost in yonder grove;
+ Dire fancy paints him in my dream;
+ Awake, I mourn my hopeless love.
+
+
+[4] Of the "Flowers of the Forest," two other versions appear in the
+Collections. That version beginning, "I've heard the lilting at our
+yow-milking," is the composition of Miss Jane Elliot, the daughter of
+Sir Gilbert Elliot of Minto, Lord Justice-Clerk, who died in 1766. She
+composed the song about the middle of the century, in imitation of an
+old version to the same tune. The other version, which is the most
+popular of the three, with the opening line, "I 've seen the smiling of
+fortune beguiling," was also the composition of a lady, Miss Alison
+Rutherford; by marriage, Mrs Cockburn, wife of Mr Patrick Cockburn,
+advocate. Mrs Cockburn was a person of highly superior accomplishments.
+She associated with her learned contemporaries, by whom she was much
+esteemed, and died at Edinburgh in 1794, at an advanced age. "The
+forest" mentioned in the song comprehended the county of Selkirk, with
+portions of Peeblesshire and Lanarkshire. This was a hunting-forest of
+the Scottish kings.
+
+
+
+
+THE SEASON COMES WHEN FIRST WE MET.
+
+
+ The season comes when first we met,
+ But you return no more;
+ Why cannot I the days forget,
+ Which time can ne'er restore?
+ O! days too sweet, too bright to last,
+ Are you, indeed, for ever past?
+
+ The fleeting shadows of delight,
+ In memory I trace;
+ In fancy stop their rapid flight,
+ And all the past replace;
+ But, ah! I wake to endless woes,
+ And tears the fading visions close!
+
+
+
+
+OH, TUNEFUL VOICE! I STILL DEPLORE.
+
+
+ Oh, tuneful voice! I still deplore
+ Those accents which, though heard no more,
+ Still vibrate in my heart;
+ In echo's cave I long to dwell,
+ And still would hear the sad farewell,
+ When we were doom'd to part.
+
+ Bright eyes! O that the task were mine,
+ To guard the liquid fires that shine,
+ And round your orbits play--
+ To watch them with a vestal's care,
+ And feed with smiles a light so fair,
+ That it may ne'er decay!
+
+
+
+
+DEAR TO MY HEART AS LIFE'S WARM STREAM.[5]
+
+
+ Dear to my heart as life's warm stream,
+ Which animates this mortal clay;
+ For thee I court the waking dream,
+ And deck with smiles the future day;
+ And thus beguile the present pain,
+ With hopes that we shall meet again!
+
+ Yet will it be as when the past
+ Twined every joy, and care, and thought,
+ And o'er our minds one mantle cast,
+ Of kind affections finely wrought.
+ Ah, no! the groundless hope were vain,
+ For so we ne'er can meet again!
+
+ May he who claims thy tender heart,
+ Deserve its love as I have done!
+ For, kind and gentle as thou art,
+ If so beloved, thou 'rt fairly won.
+ Bright may the sacred torch remain,
+ And cheer thee till we meet again!
+
+
+[5] These lines were addressed by Mrs Hunter to her daughter, on the
+occasion of her marriage.
+
+
+
+
+THE LOT OF THOUSANDS.
+
+
+ When hope lies dead within the heart,
+ By secret sorrow close conceal'd,
+ We shrink lest looks or words impart
+ What must not be reveal'd.
+
+ 'Tis hard to smile when one would weep,
+ To speak when one would silent be;
+ To wake when one should wish to sleep,
+ And wake to agony.
+
+ Yet such the lot by thousands cast,
+ Who wander in this world of care,
+ And bend beneath the bitter blast,
+ To save them from despair.
+
+ But Nature waits her guests to greet,
+ Where disappointments cannot come,
+ And Time guides, with unerring feet,
+ The weary wanderers home.
+
+
+
+
+ALEXANDER, DUKE OF GORDON.
+
+
+Alexander, the fourth Duke of Gordon, was born in the year 1743, and
+died on the 17th of January 1827, in the eighty-fourth year of his age.
+Chiefly remembered as a kind patron of the poet Burns, his name is
+likewise entitled to a place in the national minstrelsy as the author of
+an excellent version of the often-parodied song, "Cauld Kail in
+Aberdeen." Of this song, the first words, written to an older tune,
+appeared in the second volume of Herd's "Collection," in 1776. These
+begin--
+
+ "Cauld kail in Aberdeen,
+ And castocks in Strabogie;
+ But yet I fear they 'll cook o'er soon,
+ And never warm the cogie."
+
+The song is anonymous, as is the version, first published in Dale's
+"Scottish Songs," beginning--
+
+ "There 's cauld kail in Aberdeen,
+ And castocks in Strabogie,
+ Where ilka lad maun hae his lass,
+ But I maun hae my cogie."
+
+A third version, distinct from that inserted in the text, was composed
+by William Reid, a bookseller in Glasgow, who died in 1831. His song is
+scarcely known. The Duke's song, with which Burns expressed himself as
+being "charmed," was first published in the second volume of Johnson's
+"Musical Museum." It is not only gay and animating, but has the merit of
+being free of blemishes in want of refinement, which affect the others.
+The "Bogie" celebrated in the song, it may be remarked, is a river in
+Aberdeenshire, which, rising in the parish of Auchindoir, discharges its
+waters into the Deveron, a little distance below the town of Huntly. It
+gives its name to the extensive and rich valley of Strathbogie, through
+which it proceeds.
+
+
+
+
+CAULD KAIL IN ABERDEEN.
+
+
+ There 's cauld kail in Aberdeen,
+ And castocks in Strabogie;
+ Gin I hae but a bonnie lass,
+ Ye 're welcome to your cogie.
+ And ye may sit up a' the night,
+ And drink till it be braid daylight;
+ Gi'e me a lass baith clean and tight,
+ To dance the reel o' Bogie.
+
+ In cotillions the French excel,
+ John Bull loves country dances;
+ The Spaniards dance fandangoes well;
+ Mynheer an all'mande prances;
+ In foursome reels the Scots delight,
+ At threesomes they dance wondrous light,
+ But twasomes ding a' out o' sight,
+ Danced to the reel o' Bogie.
+
+ Come, lads, and view your partners weel,
+ Wale each a blythesome rogie;
+ I'll tak this lassie to mysel',
+ She looks sae keen and vogie.
+ Now, piper lads, bang up the spring,
+ The country fashion is the thing,
+ To pree their mou's ere we begin
+ To dance the reel o' Bogie.
+
+ Now ilka lad has got a lass,
+ Save yon auld doited fogie,
+ And ta'en a fling upon the grass,
+ As they do in Strabogie.
+ But a' the lasses look sae fain,
+ We canna think oursel's to hain,
+ For they maun hae their come again,
+ To dance the reel o' Bogie.
+
+ Now a' the lads hae done their best,
+ Like true men o' Strabogie,
+ We 'll stop a while and tak' a rest,
+ And tipple out a cogie.
+ Come now, my lads, and tak your glass,
+ And try ilk ither to surpass,
+ In wishing health to every lass,
+ To dance the reel o' Bogie.
+
+
+
+
+MRS GRANT OF CARRON.
+
+
+Mrs Grant of Carron, the reputed author of one song, which has long
+maintained a favoured place, was a native of Aberlour, on the banks of
+the Spey, in the county of Banff. She was born about the year 1745, and
+was twice married--first, to her cousin, Mr Grant of Carron, near
+Elchies, on the river Spey, about the year 1763; and, secondly, to Dr
+Murray, a physician in Bath. She died at Bath about the year 1814.
+
+In his correspondence with George Thomson, Burns, alluding to the song
+of Mrs Grant, "Roy's Wife," remarks that he had in his possession "the
+original words of a song for the air in the handwriting of the lady who
+composed it," which, he adds, "are superior to any edition of the song
+which the public has seen." He subsequently composed an additional
+version himself, beginning, "Canst thou leave me thus, my Katie?" but
+this, like others of the bard's conversions of Scottish songs into an
+English dress, did not become popular. The verses by his female friend,
+in which the lady is made to be the sufferer by misplaced affection, and
+commencing, "Stay, my Willie, yet believe me," though published, remain
+likewise in obscurity. "Roy's Wife" was originally written to an old
+tune called the "Ruffian's Rant," but this melody is now known by the
+name of its favourite words. The sentiment of the song is peculiarly
+pleasing. The rejected lover begins by loudly complaining of his wrongs,
+and the broken assurances of his former sweetheart: then he suddenly
+recalls what were her good qualities; and the recollection of these
+causes him to forgive her marrying another, and even still to extend
+towards her his warmest sympathies.
+
+
+
+
+ROY'S WIFE OF ALDIVALLOCH.
+
+
+ Roy's wife of Aldivalloch,
+ Roy's wife of Aldivalloch,
+ Wat ye how she cheated me
+ As I cam' o'er the braes of Balloch!
+
+ She vow'd, she swore she wad be mine,
+ She said she lo'ed me best o' onie;
+ But, ah! the fickle, faithless quean,
+ She 's ta'en the carl, and left her Johnnie!
+ Roy's wife, &c.
+
+ Oh, she was a canty quean,
+ An' weel could dance the Hieland walloch!
+ How happy I, had she been mine,
+ Or I been Roy of Aldivalloch!
+ Roy's wife, &c.
+
+ Her hair sae fair, her e'en sae clear,
+ Her wee bit mou' sae sweet and bonnie!
+ To me she ever will be dear,
+ Though she's for ever left her Johnnie!
+ Roy's wife, &c.
+
+
+
+
+ROBERT COUPER, M.D.
+
+
+Dr Couper was born in the parish of Sorbie, in Wigtonshire, on the 22d
+of September 1750. His father rented the farm of Balsier in that parish.
+With a view towards the ministry in the Scottish Church, he proceeded to
+the University of Glasgow in 1769; but being deprived of both his
+parents by death before the completion of the ordinary period of
+academical study, and his pecuniary means being limited, he quitted the
+country for America, where he became tutor to a family in Virginia. He
+now contemplated taking orders in the Episcopal Church, but on the
+outbreak of the War of Independence in 1776 he returned to Britain
+without fulfilling this intention. He resumed his studies at Glasgow
+preparatory to his seeking a surgeon's diploma; and he afterwards
+established himself as a medical practitioner in Newton-Stewart, a
+considerable village in his native county. From this place he removed to
+Fochabers, about the year 1788, on being recommended, by his friend Dr
+Hamilton, Professor of Anatomy at Glasgow, as physician to the Duke of
+Gordon. Before entering on this new sphere of practice, he took the
+degree of M.D. At Fochabers he remained till the year 1806, when he
+again returned to the south. He died at Wigton on the 18th January
+1818. From a MS. Life of Dr Couper, in the possession of a gentleman in
+Wigton, and communicated to Dr Murray, author of "The Literary History
+of Galloway," these leading events of Dr Couper's life were first
+published by Mr Laing, in his "Additional Illustrations to the Scots
+Musical Museum," vol. iv. p. 513.
+
+Dr Couper published "Poetry, chiefly in the Scottish Language"
+(Inverness, 1804), 2 vols. 12mo. Among some rubbish, and much tawdry
+versification, there is occasional power, which, however, is
+insufficient to compensate for the general inferiority. There are only a
+few songs, but these are superior to the poems; and those following are
+not unworthy of a place among the modern national minstrelsy.
+
+
+
+
+KINRARA.
+
+TUNE--_"Neil Gow."_
+
+
+ Red gleams the sun on yon hill-tap,
+ The dew sits on the gowan;
+ Deep murmurs through her glens the Spey,
+ Around Kinrara rowan.
+ Where art thou, fairest, kindest lass?
+ Alas! wert thou but near me,
+ Thy gentle soul, thy melting eye,
+ Would ever, ever cheer me.
+
+ The lav'rock sings among the clouds,
+ The lambs they sport so cheerie,
+ And I sit weeping by the birk:
+ O where art thou, my dearie?
+ Aft may I meet the morning dew,
+ Lang greet till I be weary;
+ Thou canna, winna, gentle maid!
+ Thou canna be my dearie.
+
+
+
+
+THE SHEELING.
+
+TUNE--_"The Mucking o' Geordie's Byre."_
+
+
+ Oh, grand bounds the deer o'er the mountain,
+ And smooth skims the hare o'er the plain;
+ At noon, the cool shade by the fountain
+ Is sweet to the lass and her swain.
+ The ev'ning sits down dark and dreary;
+ Oh, yon 's the loud joys of the ha';
+ The laird sings his dogs and his dearie--
+ Oh, he kens na his singin' ava.
+
+ But oh, my dear lassie, when wi' thee,
+ What 's the deer and the maukin to me?
+ The storm soughin' wild drives me to thee,
+ And the plaid shelters baith me and thee.
+ The wild warld then may be reeling,
+ Pride and riches may lift up their e'e;
+ My plaid haps us baith in the sheeling--
+ That 's a' to my lassie and me.
+
+
+
+
+THE EWE-BUGHTS, MARION.[6]
+
+
+ Oh, mind ye the ewe-bughts, my Marion?
+ It was ther I forgather'd wi' thee;
+ The sun smiled sweet ower the mountain,
+ And saft sough'd the leaf on the tree.
+
+ Thou wast fair, thou wast bonnie, my Marion,
+ And lovesome thy rising breast-bane;
+ The dew sat in gems ower thy ringlets,
+ By the thorn when we were alane.
+
+ There we loved, there thou promised, my Marion,
+ Thy soul--a' thy beauties were mine;
+ Crouse we skipt to the ha' i' the gloamin',
+ But few were my slumbers and thine.
+
+ Fell war tore me lang frae thee, Marion,
+ Lang wat'ry and red was my e'e;
+ The pride o' the field but inflamed me
+ To return mair worthy o' thee.
+
+ Oh, aye art thou lovely, my Marion,
+ Thy heart bounds in kindness to me;
+ And here, oh, here is my bosom,
+ That languish'd, my Marion, for thee.
+
+
+[6] These verses form a modernised version of the old and popular song,
+"Will ye gae to the ewe-bughts, Marion?" The air is extremely beautiful.
+
+
+
+
+LADY ANNE BARNARD.
+
+
+Lady Anne Lindsay was the eldest of a family of eight sons and three
+daughters, born to James, Earl of Balcarres, by his spouse, Anne
+Dalrymple, a daughter of Sir Robert Dalrymple, of Castleton, Bart. She
+was born at Balcarres, in Fife, on the 8th of December 1750. Inheriting
+a large portion of the shrewdness long possessed by the old family of
+Lindsay, and a share of talent from her mother, who was a person of
+singular energy, though somewhat capricious in temper, Lady Anne
+evinced, at an early age, an uncommon amount of sagacity. Fortunate in
+having her talents well directed, and naturally inclined towards the
+acquisition of learning, she soon began to devote herself to useful
+reading, and even to literary composition. The highly popular ballad of
+"Auld Robin Gray" was written when she had only attained her
+twenty-first year. According to her own narrative, communicated to Sir
+Walter Scott, she had experienced loneliness on the marriage of her
+younger sister, who accompanied her husband to London, and had sought
+relief from a state of solitude by attempting the composition of song.
+An old Scottish melody,[7] sung by an eccentric female, an attendant on
+Lady Balcarres, was connected with words unsuitable to the plaintive
+nature of the air; and, with the design of supplying the defect, she
+formed the idea of writing "Auld Robin Gray." The hero of the ballad was
+the old herdsman at Balcarres. To the members of her own family Lady
+Anne only communicated her new ballad--scrupulously concealing the fact
+of her authorship from others, "perceiving the shyness it created in
+those who could write nothing."
+
+While still in the bloom of youth, the Earl of Balcarres died, and the
+Dowager Countess having taken up her residence in Edinburgh, Lady Anne
+experienced increased means of acquainting herself with the world of
+letters. At her mother's residence she met many of the literary persons
+of consideration in the northern metropolis, including such men as Lord
+Monboddo, David Hume, and Henry Mackenzie. To comfort her sister, Lady
+Margaret Fordyce, who was now a widow, she subsequently removed to
+London, where she formed the acquaintance of the principal personages
+then occupying the literary and political arena, such as Burke,
+Sheridan, Dundas, and Windham. She also became known to the Prince of
+Wales, who continued to entertain for her the highest respect. In 1793,
+she married Andrew Barnard, Esq., son of the Bishop of Limerick, and
+afterwards secretary, under Lord Macartney, to the colony at the Cape of
+Good Hope. She accompanied her husband to the Cape, and had meditated a
+voyage to New South Wales, that she might minister, by her benevolent
+counsels, towards the reformation of the convicts there exiled. On the
+death of her husband in 1807, she again resided with her widowed sister,
+the Lady Margaret, till the year 1812, when, on the marriage of her
+sister to Sir James Burges, she occupied a house of her own, and
+continued to reside in Berkeley Square till the period of her death,
+which took place on the 6th of May 1825.
+
+To entire rectitude of principle, amiability of manners, and kindliness
+of heart, Anne Barnard added the more substantial, and, in females, the
+more uncommon quality of eminent devotedness to intellectual labour.
+Literature had been her favourite pursuit from childhood, and even in
+advanced life, when her residence was the constant resort of her
+numerous relatives, she contrived to find leisure for occasional
+literary _reunions_, while her forenoons were universally occupied in
+mental improvement. She maintained a correspondence with several of her
+brilliant contemporaries, and, in her more advanced years, composed an
+interesting narrative of family Memoirs. She was skilled in the use of
+the pencil, and sketched scenery with effect. In conversation she was
+acknowledged to excel; and her stories[8] and anecdotes were a source of
+delight to her friends. She was devotedly pious, and singularly
+benevolent: she was liberal in sentiment, charitable to the indigent,
+and sparing of the feelings of others. Every circle was charmed by her
+presence; by her condescension she inspired the diffident; and she
+banished dulness by the brilliancy of her humour. Her countenance, it
+should be added, wore a pleasant and animated expression, and her
+figure was modelled with the utmost elegance of symmetry and grace. Her
+sister, Lady Margaret Fordyce, was eminently beautiful.
+
+The popularity obtained by the ballad of "Auld Robin Gray" has seldom
+been exceeded in the history of any other metrical composition. It was
+sung in every fashionable circle, as well as by the ballad-singers, from
+Land's-end to John o' Groat's; was printed in every collection of
+national songs, and drew tears from our military countrymen both in
+America and India. With the exception of Pinkerton, every writer on
+Scottish poetry and song has awarded it a tribute of commendation. "The
+elegant and accomplished authoress," says Ritson, "has, in this
+beautiful production, to all that tenderness and simplicity for which
+the Scottish song has been so much celebrated, united a delicacy of
+expression which it never before attained." "'Auld Robin Gray,'" says
+Sir Walter Scott, "is that real pastoral which is worth all the
+dialogues which Corydon and Phillis have had together, from the days of
+Theocritus downwards."
+
+During a long lifetime, till within two years of her death, Lady Anne
+Barnard resisted every temptation to declare herself the author of the
+popular ballad, thus evincing her determination not to have the secret
+wrested from her till she chose to divulge it. Some of those inducements
+may be enumerated. The extreme popularity of the ballad might have
+proved sufficient in itself to justify the disclosure; but, apart from
+this consideration, a very fine tune had been put to it by a doctor of
+music;[9] a romance had been founded upon it by a man of eminence; it
+was made the subject of a play, of an opera, and of a pantomime; it had
+been claimed by others; a sequel had been written to it by some
+scribbler, who professed to have composed the whole ballad; it had been
+assigned an antiquity far beyond the author's time; the Society of
+Antiquaries had made it the subject of investigation; and the author had
+been advertised for in the public prints, a reward being offered for the
+discovery. Never before had such general interest been exhibited
+respecting any composition in Scottish verse.
+
+In the "Pirate," published in 1823, the author of "Waverley" had
+compared the condition of Minna to that of Jeanie Gray, in the words of
+Lady Anne, in a sequel which she had published to the original ballad:--
+
+ "Nae langer she wept, her tears were a' spent;
+ Despair it was come, and she thought it content;
+ She thought it content, but her cheek it grew pale,
+ And she droop'd like a snowdrop broke down by the hail!"
+
+At length, in her seventy-third year, and upwards of half a century
+after the period of its composition, the author voluntarily made avowal
+of the authorship of the ballad and its sequel. She wrote to Sir Walter
+Scott, with whom she was acquainted, requesting him to inform his
+_personal friend_, the author of "Waverley," that she was indeed the
+author. She enclosed a copy to Sir Walter, written in her own hand; and,
+with her consent, in the course of the following year, he printed "Auld
+Robin Gray" as a contribution to the Bannatyne Club.
+
+The second part has not acquired such decided popularity, and it has not
+often been published with it in former Collections. Of the fact of its
+inequality, the accomplished author was fully aware: she wrote it
+simply to gratify the desire of her venerable mother, who often wished
+to know how "the unlucky business of Jeanie and Jamie ended." The
+Countess, it may be remarked, was much gratified by the popularity of
+the ballad; and though she seems, out of respect to her daughter's
+feelings, to have retained the secret, she could not resist the frequent
+repetition of it to her friends.
+
+In the character of Lady Anne Barnard, the defective point was a certain
+want of decision, which not only led to her declining many distinguished
+and advantageous offers for her hand, but tended, in some measure, to
+deprive her of posthumous fame. Illustrative of the latter fact, it has
+been recorded that, having entrusted to Sir Walter Scott a volume of
+lyrics, composed by herself and by others of the noble house of Lindsay,
+with permission to give it to the world, she withdrew her consent after
+the compositions had been printed in a quarto volume, and were just on
+the eve of being published. The copies of the work, which was entitled
+"Lays of the Lindsays," appear to have been destroyed. One lyric only
+has been recovered, beginning, "Why tarries my love?" It is printed as
+the composition of Lady Anne Barnard, in a note appended to the latest
+edition of Johnson's "Musical Museum," by Mr C. K. Sharpe, who
+transcribed it from the _Scots Magazine_ for May 1805. The popular song,
+"Logie o' Buchan," sometimes attributed to Lady Anne in the Collections,
+did not proceed from her pen, but was composed by George Halket,
+parochial schoolmaster of Rathen, in Aberdeenshire, about the middle of
+the last century.
+
+
+[7] The name of this old melody is, "The Bridegroom greets when the Sun
+gangs down."--See Stenhouse's Notes to Johnson's "Musical Museum," vol.
+iv. p. 280; the "Lives of the Lindsays," by Lord Lindsay, vol. ii., pp.
+314, 332, 392. Lond. 1849, 3 vols., 8vo.
+
+[8] "She was entertaining a large party of distinguished guests at
+dinner, when a hitch occurred in the kitchen. The old servant came up
+behind her and whispered, 'My lady, you must tell another story--the
+second course won't be ready for five minutes!'"--Letter of General
+Lindsay to Lord Lindsay, "Lives of the Lindsays," vol. ii. p. 387.
+
+[9] The Rev. William Leeves, of Wrington, to whose tune the ballad is
+now sung.--See an account of Mr Leeves' claims to the authorship of the
+tune, &c., in Johnson's "Musical Museum;" Stenhouse's Notes, vol. iv. p.
+231.
+
+
+
+
+AULD ROBIN GRAY.
+
+PART I.
+
+
+ When the sheep are in the fauld, and the kye 's come hame,
+ And a' the warld to rest are gane,
+ The waes o' my heart fa' in showers frae my e'e,
+ Unkent by my gudeman, wha sleeps sound by me.
+
+ Young Jamie lo'ed me weel, and he sought me for his bride,
+ But saving a crown-piece, he had naething beside;
+ To make the crown a pound, my Jamie gaed to sea,
+ And the crown and the pound they were baith for me.
+
+ He hadna been gane a twelvemonth and a day,
+ When my father brake his arm, and the cow was stown away;
+ My mither she fell sick--my Jamie at the sea;
+ And auld Robin Gray came a-courting me.
+
+ My father couldna wark, and my mither couldna spin;
+ I toil'd day and night, but their bread I couldna win;--
+ Auld Rob maintain'd them baith, and, wi' tears in his e'e,
+ Said, "Jeanie, oh, for their sakes, will ye no marry me?"
+
+ My heart it said na, and I look'd for Jamie back;
+ But hard blew the winds, and his ship was a wrack;
+ The ship was a wrack--why didna Jamie dee?
+ Or why am I spared to cry, Wae is me?
+
+ My father urged me sair--my mither didna speak;
+ But she look'd in my face till my heart was like to break;
+ They gied him my hand--my heart was in the sea--
+ And so Robin Gray he was gudeman to me.
+
+ I hadna been his wife a week but only four,
+ When, mournfu' as I sat on the stane at my door,
+ I saw my Jamie's ghaist, for I couldna think it he,
+ Till he said, "I'm come hame, love, to marry thee."
+
+ Oh, sair, sair did we greet, and mickle say of a';
+ I gied him a kiss, and bade him gang awa';--
+ I wish that I were dead, but I'm nae like to dee;
+ For though my heart is broken, I'm but young, wae is me!
+
+ I gang like a ghaist, and carena much to spin;
+ I darena think o' Jamie, for that wad be a sin;
+ But I'll do my best a gude wife to be,
+ For oh, Robin Gray, he is kind to me!
+
+
+PART II.
+
+ The spring had pass'd over, 'twas summer nae mair,
+ And, trembling, were scatter'd the leaves in the air;
+ "Oh, winter," cried Jeanie, "we kindly agree,
+ For wae looks the sun when he shines upon me."
+
+ Nae langer she wept, her tears were a' spent;
+ Despair it was come, and she thought it content;
+ She thought it content, but her cheek was grown pale,
+ And she droop'd like a snow-drop broke down by the hail.
+
+ Her father was sad, and her mother was wae,
+ But silent and thoughtfu' was auld Robin Gray;
+ He wander'd his lane, and his face was as lean
+ As the side of a brae where the torrents have been.
+
+ He gaed to his bed, but nae physic would take,
+ And often he said, "It is best, for her sake!"
+ While Jeanie supported his head as he lay,
+ The tears trickled down upon auld Robin Gray.
+
+ "Oh, greet nae mair, Jeanie!" said he, wi' a groan;
+ "I 'm nae worth your sorrow--the truth maun be known;
+ Send round for your neighbours--my hour it draws near,
+ And I 've that to tell that it 's fit a' should hear.
+
+ "I 've wrang'd her," he said, "but I kent it o'er late;
+ I 've wrang'd her, and sorrow is speeding my date;
+ But a 's for the best, since my death will soon free
+ A faithfu' young heart, that was ill match'd wi' me.
+
+ "I lo'ed and I courted her mony a day,
+ The auld folks were for me, but still she said nay;
+ I kentna o' Jamie, nor yet o' her vow;--
+ In mercy forgi'e me, 'twas I stole the cow!
+
+ "I cared not for crummie, I thought but o' thee;
+ I thought it was crummie stood 'twixt you and me;
+ While she fed your parents, oh! did you not say,
+ You never would marry wi' auld Robin Gray?
+
+ "But sickness at hame, and want at the door--
+ You gi'ed me your hand, while your heart it was sore;
+ I saw it was sore, why took I her hand?
+ Oh, that was a deed to my shame o'er the land!
+
+ "How truth, soon or late, comes to open daylight!
+ For Jamie cam' back, and your cheek it grew white;
+ White, white grew your cheek, but aye true unto me.
+ Oh, Jeanie, I 'm thankfu'--I 'm thankfu' to dee!
+
+ "Is Jamie come here yet?" and Jamie he saw;
+ "I 've injured you sair, lad, so I leave you my a';
+ Be kind to my Jeanie, and soon may it be!
+ Waste no time, my dauties, in mournin' for me."
+
+ They kiss'd his cauld hands, and a smile o'er his face
+ Seem'd hopefu' of being accepted by grace;
+ "Oh, doubtna," said Jamie, "forgi'en he will be,
+ Wha wadna be tempted, my love, to win thee?"
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ The first days were dowie, while time slipt awa';
+ But saddest and sairest to Jeanie of a'
+ Was thinking she couldna be honest and right,
+ Wi' tears in her e'e, while her heart was sae light.
+
+ But nae guile had she, and her sorrow away,
+ The wife of her Jamie, the tear couldna stay;
+ A bonnie wee bairn--the auld folks by the fire--
+ Oh, now she has a' that her heart can desire!
+
+In an earlier continuation of the original ballad, there are some good
+stanzas, which, however, the author had thought proper to expunge from
+the piece in its altered and extended form. One verse, descriptive of
+Robin Gray's feelings, on observing the concealed and withering grief of
+his spouse, is beautiful for its simplicity:--
+
+ "Nae questions he spier'd her concerning her health,
+ He look'd at her often, but aye 'twas by stealth;
+ When his heart it grew grit, and, sighin', he feign'd
+ To gang to the door to see if it rain'd."
+
+
+
+
+SONG.
+
+
+ Why tarries my love?
+ Ah! where does he rove?
+ My love is long absent from me.
+ Come hither, my dove,
+ I 'll write to my love,
+ And send him a letter by thee.
+
+ To find him, swift fly!
+ The letter I 'll tie
+ Secure to thy leg with a string.
+ Ah! not to my leg,
+ Fair lady, I beg,
+ But fasten it under my wing.
+
+ Her dove she did deck,
+ She drew o'er his neck
+ A bell and a collar so gay;
+ She tied to his wing
+ The scroll with a string,
+ Then kiss'd him and sent him away.
+
+ It blew and it rain'd,
+ The pigeon disdain'd
+ To seek shelter; undaunted he flew,
+ Till wet was his wing,
+ And painful his string,
+ So heavy the letter it grew.
+
+ It flew all around,
+ Till Colin he found,
+ Then perch'd on his head with the prize;
+ Whose heart, while he reads,
+ With tenderness bleeds,
+ For the pigeon that flutters and dies.
+
+
+
+
+JOHN TAIT.
+
+
+John Tait was, in early life, devoted to the composition of poetry. In
+Ruddiman's _Edinburgh Weekly Magazine_ for 1770, he repeatedly published
+verses in the Poet's Corner, with his initials attached, and in
+subsequent years he published anonymously the "Cave of Morar," "Poetical
+Legends," and other poems. "The Vanity of Human Wishes, an Elegy,
+occasioned by the Untimely Death of a Scots Poet," appears under the
+signature of J. Tait, in "Poems on Various Subjects by Robert Fergusson,
+Part II.," Edinburgh, 1779, 12mo. He was admitted as a Writer to the
+Signet on the 21st of November 1781; and in July 1805 was appointed
+Judge of Police, on a new police system being introduced into Edinburgh.
+In the latter capacity he continued to officiate till July 1812, when a
+new Act of Parliament entrusted the settlement of police cases, as
+formerly, to the magistrates of the city. Mr Tait died at his house in
+Abercromby Place, on the 29th of August 1817.
+
+"The Banks of the Dee," the only popular production from the pen of the
+author, was composed in the year 1775, on the occasion of a friend
+leaving Scotland to join the British forces in America, who were then
+vainly endeavouring to suppress that opposition to the control of the
+mother country which resulted in the permanent establishment of American
+independence. The song is set to the Irish air of "Langolee." It was
+printed in Wilson's Collection of Songs, which was published at
+Edinburgh in 1779, with four additional stanzas by a Miss Betsy B----s,
+of inferior merit. It was re-published in "The Goldfinch" (Edinburgh,
+1782), and afterwards was inserted in Johnson's "Musical Museum." Burns,
+in his letter to Mr George Thomson, of 7th April 1793, writes--"'The
+Banks of the Dee' is, you know, literally 'Langolee' to slow time. The
+song is well enough, but has some false imagery in it; for instance--
+
+ "'And sweetly the nightingale sung from the tree.'
+
+In the first place, the nightingale sings in a low bush, but never from
+a tree; and, in the second place, there never was a nightingale seen or
+heard on the banks of the Dee, or on the banks of any other river in
+Scotland. Creative rural imagery is always comparatively flat."
+
+Thirty years after its first appearance, Mr Tait published a new edition
+of the song in Mr Thomson's Collection, vol. iv., in which he has, by
+alterations on the first half stanza, acknowledged the justice of the
+strictures of the Ayrshire bard. The stanza is altered thus:
+
+ "'Twas summer, and softly the breezes were blowing,
+ And sweetly the _wood-pigeon coo'd from the tree_;
+ At the foot of a rock, where the _wild rose was growing_,
+ I sat myself down on the banks of the Dee."
+
+The song, it may be added, has in several collections been erroneously
+attributed to John Home, author of the tragedy of "Douglas."
+
+
+
+
+THE BANKS OF THE DEE.
+
+
+ 'Twas summer, and softly the breezes were blowing,
+ And sweetly the nightingale sung from the tree,
+ At the foot of a rock where the river was flowing,
+ I sat myself down on the banks of the Dee.
+ Flow on, lovely Dee, flow on, thou sweet river,
+ Thy banks' purest stream shall be dear to me ever,
+ For there first I gain'd the affection and favour
+ Of Jamie, the glory and pride of the Dee.
+
+ But now he 's gone from me, and left me thus mourning,
+ To quell the proud rebels--for valiant is he;
+ And, ah! there's no hope of his speedy returning,
+ To wander again on the banks of the Dee.
+ He 's gone, hapless youth! o'er the rude roaring billows,
+ The kindest and sweetest of all the gay fellows,
+ And left me to wander 'mongst those once loved willows,
+ The loneliest maid on the banks of the Dee.
+
+ But time and my prayers may perhaps yet restore him,
+ Blest peace may restore my dear shepherd to me;
+ And when he returns, with such care I 'll watch o'er him,
+ He never shall leave the sweet banks of the Dee.
+ The Dee then shall flow, all its beauties displaying,
+ The lambs on its banks shall again be seen playing,
+ While I with my Jamie am carelessly straying,
+ And tasting again all the sweets of the Dee.
+
+
+
+
+HECTOR MACNEILL.
+
+
+Hector Macneill was born on the 22d of October 1746, in the villa of
+Rosebank, near Roslin; and, to to use his own words, "amidst the murmur
+of streams and the shades of Hawthornden, may be said to have inhaled
+with life the atmosphere of a poet."[10] Descended from an old family,
+who possessed a small estate in the southern district of Argyllshire,
+his father, after various changes of fortune, had obtained a company in
+the 42d Regiment, with which he served during several campaigns in
+Flanders. From continued indisposition, and consequent inability to
+undergo the fatigues of military life, he disposed of his commission,
+and retired, with his wife and two children, to the villa of Rosebank,
+of which he became the owner. A few years after the birth of his son
+Hector, he felt necessitated, from straitened circumstances, to quit
+this beautiful residence; and he afterwards occupied a farm on the banks
+of Loch Lomond. Such a region of the picturesque was highly suitable for
+the development of those poetical talents which had already appeared in
+young Hector, amidst the rural amenities of Roslin. In his eleventh
+year, he wrote a drama, after the manner of Gay; and the respectable
+execution of his juvenile attempts in versification gained him the
+approbation of Dr Doig, the learned rector of the grammar-school of
+Stirling, who strongly urged his father to afford him sufficient
+instruction, to enable him to enter upon one of the liberal professions.
+Had Captain Macneill's circumstances been prosperous, this counsel might
+have been adopted, for the son's promising talents were not unnoticed by
+his father; but pecuniary difficulties opposed an unsurmountable
+obstacle.
+
+An opulent relative, a West India trader, resident in Bristol, had paid
+the captain a visit; and, attracted by the shrewdness of the son Hector,
+who was his namesake, offered to retain him in his employment, and to
+provide for him in life. After two years' preparatory education, he was
+accordingly sent to Bristol, in his fourteenth year. He was destined to
+an adventurous career, singularly at variance with his early
+predilections and pursuits. By his relative he was designed to sail in a
+slave ship to the coast of Guinea; but the intercession of some female
+friends prevented his being connected with an expedition so uncongenial
+to his feelings. He was now despatched on board a vessel to the island
+of St Christopher's, with the view of his making trial of a seafaring
+life, but was provided with recommendatory letters, in the event of his
+preferring employment on land. With a son of the Bristol trader he
+remained twelvemonths; and, having no desire to resume his labours as a
+seaman, he afterwards sailed for Guadaloupe, where he continued in the
+employment of a merchant for three years, till 1763, when the island was
+ceded to the French. Dismissed by his employer, with a scanty balance of
+salary, he had some difficulty in obtaining the means of transport to
+Antigua; and there, finding himself reduced to entire dependence, he was
+content, without any pecuniary recompense, to become assistant to his
+relative, who had come to the town of St John's. From this unhappy
+condition he was rescued, after a short interval. He was possessed of a
+knowledge of the French language; a qualification which, together with
+his general abilities, recommended him to fill the office of assistant
+to the Provost-Marshal of Grenada. This appointment he held for three
+years, when, hearing of the death of his mother and sister, he returned
+to Britain. On the death of his father, eighteen months after his
+arrival, he succeeded to a small patrimony, which he proceeded to invest
+in the purchase of an annuity of L80 per annum. With this limited
+income, he seems to have planned a permanent settlement in his native
+country; but the unexpected embarrassment of the party from whom he had
+purchased the annuity, and an attachment of an unfortunate nature,
+compelled him to re-embark on the ocean of adventure. He accepted the
+office of assistant-secretary on board Admiral Geary's flag-ship, and
+made two cruises with the grand fleet. Proposing again to return to
+Scotland, he afterwards resigned his appointment; but he was induced, by
+the remonstrances of his friends, Dr Currie, and Mr Roscoe, of
+Liverpool, to accept a similar situation on board the flag-ship of Sir
+Richard Bickerton, who had been appointed to take the chief command of
+the naval power in India. In this post, many of the hardships incident
+to a seafaring life fell to his share; and being present at the last
+indecisive action with "Suffrein," he had likewise to encounter the
+perils of war. His present connexion subsisted three years; but Macneill
+sickened in the discharge of duties wholly unsuitable for him, and
+longed for the comforts of home. His resources were still limited, but
+he flattered himself in the expectation that he might earn a subsistence
+as a man of letters. He fixed his residence at a farm-house in the
+vicinity of Stirling; and, amidst the pursuits of literature, the
+composition of verses, and the cultivation of friendship, he contrived,
+for a time, to enjoy a considerable share of happiness. But he speedily
+discovered the delusion of supposing that an individual, entirely
+unknown in the literary world, could at once be able to establish his
+reputation, and inspire confidence in the bookselling trade, whose
+favour is so essential to men of letters. Discouraged in longer
+persevering in the attempt of procuring a livelihood at home, Macneill,
+for the fourth time, took his departure from Britain. Provided with
+letters of introduction to influential and wealthy persons in Jamaica,
+he sailed for that island on a voyage of adventure; being now in his
+thirty-eighth year, and nearly as unprovided for as when he had first
+left his native shores, twenty-four years before. On his arrival at
+Kingston, he was employed by the collector of customs, whose
+acquaintance he had formed on the voyage; but this official soon found
+he could dispense with his services, which he did, without aiding him in
+obtaining another situation. The individuals to whom he had brought
+letters were unable or unwilling to render him assistance, and the
+unfortunate adventurer was constrained, in his emergency, to accept the
+kind invitation of a medical friend, to make his quarters with him till
+some satisfactory employment might occur. He now discovered two intimate
+companions of his boyhood settled in the island, in very prosperous
+circumstances, and from these he received both pecuniary aid and the
+promise of future support. Through their friendly offices, his two sons,
+who had been sent out by a generous friend, were placed in situations of
+respectability and emolument. But the thoughts of the poet himself were
+directed towards Britain. He sailed from Jamaica, with a thousand plans
+and schemes hovering in his mind, equally vague and indefinite as had
+been his aims and designs during the past chapter of his history. A
+small sum given him as the pay of an inland ensigncy, now conferred on
+him, but antedated, sufficed to defray the expenses of the voyage.
+
+Before leaving Scotland for Jamaica, Macneill had commenced a poem,
+founded on a Highland tradition; and to the completion of this
+production he assiduously devoted himself during his homeward voyage. It
+was published at Edinburgh in 1789, under the title of "The Harp, a
+Legendary Tale." In the previous year, he published a pamphlet in
+vindication of slavery, entitled, "On the Treatment of the Negroes in
+Jamaica." This pamphlet, written to gratify the wishes of an interested
+friend, rather than as the result of his own convictions, he
+subsequently endeavoured to suppress. For several years, Macneill
+persevered in his unsettled mode of life. On his return from Jamaica, he
+resided in the mansion of his friend, Mr Graham of Gartmore, himself a
+writer of verses, as well as a patron of letters; but a difference with
+the family caused him to quit this hospitable residence. After passing
+some time with his relatives in Argyllshire, he entertained a proposal
+of establishing himself in Glasgow, as partner of a mercantile house,
+but this was terminated by the dissolution of the firm; and a second
+attempt to succeed in the republic of letters had an equally
+unsuccessful issue. In Edinburgh, whither he had removed, he was seized
+with a severe nervous illness, which, during the six following years,
+rendered him incapable of sustained physical exertion. With a little
+money, which he contrived to raise on his annuity, he retired to a small
+cottage at St Ninians; but his finances again becoming reduced, he
+accepted of the hospitable invitation of his friends, Major Spark and
+his lady, to become the inmate of their residence of Viewforth House,
+Stirling. At this period, Macneill composed the greater number of his
+best songs, and produced his poem of "Scotland's Skaith, or the History
+of Will and Jean," which was published in 1795, and speedily gained him
+a wide reputation. Before the close of twelvemonths, it passed through
+no fewer than fourteen editions. A sequel, entitled "The Waes o' War,"
+which appeared in 1796, attained nearly an equal popularity. The
+original ballad was composed during the author's solitary walks along
+the promenades of the King's Park, Stirling, while he was still
+suffering mental depression. It was completed in his own mind before any
+of the stanzas were committed to paper.
+
+The hope of benefiting his enfeebled constitution in a warm climate
+induced him to revisit Jamaica. As a parting tribute to his friends at
+Stirling, he published, in 1799, immediately before his departure, a
+descriptive poem, entitled "The Links of Forth, or a Parting Peep at the
+Carse of Stirling," which, regarded as the last effort of a dying poet,
+obtained a reception fully equal to its merits.
+
+On the oft-disappointed and long unfortunate poet the sun of prosperity
+at length arose. On his arrival in Jamaica, one of his early friends, Mr
+John Graham, of Three-Mile-River, settled on him an annuity of L100
+a-year; and, in a few months afterwards, they sailed together for
+Britain, the poet's health being essentially improved. Macneill now
+fixed his permanent residence in Edinburgh, and, with the proceeds of
+several legacies bequeathed to him, together with his annuity, was
+enabled to live in comparative affluence. The narrative of his early
+adventures and hardships is supposed to form the basis of a novel,
+entitled "The Memoirs of Charles Macpherson, Esq.," which proceeded from
+his pen in 1800. In the following year, he published a complete edition
+of his poetical works, in two duodecimo volumes. In 1809, he published
+"The Pastoral, or Lyric Muse of Scotland," in a thin quarto volume; and
+about the same time, anonymously, two other works in verse, entitled
+"Town Fashions, or Modern Manners Delineated," and "Bygone Times and
+Late-come Changes." His last work, "The Scottish Adventurers," a novel,
+appeared in 1812, in two octavo volumes.
+
+The latter productions of Hector Macneill, both in prose and verse,
+tended rather to diminish than increase his fame. They exhibit the
+sentiments of a querulous old man, inclined to cling to the habits of
+his youth, and to regard any improvement as an act of ruthless
+innovation. As the author of some excellent songs, and one of the most
+popular ballads in the Scottish language, his name will continue to be
+remembered. His songs, "Mary of Castlecary," "My boy, Tammie," "Come
+under my plaidie," "I lo'ed ne'er a laddie but ane," "Donald and Flora,"
+and "Dinna think, bonnie lassie," will retain a firm hold of the popular
+mind. His characteristic is tenderness and pathos, combined with unity
+of feeling, and a simplicity always genuine and true to nature. Allan
+Cunningham, who forms only a humble estimate of his genius, remarks that
+his songs "have much softness and truth, an insinuating grace of
+manners, and a decorum of expression, with no small skill in the
+dramatic management of the stories."[11] The ballad of "Scotland's
+Skaith" ranks among the happiest conceptions of the Scottish Doric muse;
+rural life is depicted with singular force and accuracy, and the
+debasing consequences of the inordinate use of ardent spirits among the
+peasantry, are delineated with a vigour and power, admirably adapted to
+suit the author's benevolent intention in the suppression of
+intemperance.
+
+During his latter years, Macneill was much cherished among the
+fashionables of the capital. He was a tall, venerable-looking old man;
+and although his complexion was sallow, and his countenance somewhat
+austere, his agreeable and fascinating conversation, full of humour and
+replete with anecdote, rendered him an acceptable guest in many social
+circles. He displayed a lively, but not a vigorous intellect, and his
+literary attainments were inconsiderable. Of his own character as a man
+of letters, he had evidently formed a high estimate. He was prone to
+satire, but did not unduly indulge in it. He was especially impatient of
+indifferent versification; and, among his friends, rather discouraged
+than commended poetical composition. Though long unsettled himself, he
+was loud in his commendations of industry; and, from the gay man of the
+world, he became earnest on the subject of religion. For several years,
+his health seems to have been unsatisfactory. In a letter to a friend,
+dated Edinburgh, January 30, 1813, he writes:--"Accumulating years and
+infirmities are beginning to operate very sensibly upon me now, and
+yearly do I experience their increasing influence. Both my hearing and
+my sight are considerably weakened, and, should I live a few years
+longer, I look forward to a state which, with all our love for life, is
+certainly not to be envied.... My pen is my chief amusement. Reading
+soon fatigues, and loses its zest; composition never, till over-exertion
+reminds me of my imprudence, by sensations which too frequently render
+me unpleasant during the rest of the day." On the 15th of March 1818, in
+his seventy-second year, the poet breathed his last, in entire
+composure, and full of hope.
+
+
+[10] We quote from an autobiography of the poet, the original of which
+is in the possession of one of his surviving friends. We have likewise
+to acknowledge our obligations to Dr Muschet, of Birkhill, near
+Stirling, for communicating some interesting letters of Macneill,
+addressed to his late father. The late Mr John Campbell, Writer to the
+Signet, had undertaken to supply a memoir for this work, partly from his
+own recollections of his deceased friend; but, before he could fulfil
+his promise, he was called to rest with his fathers. We have, however,
+taken advantage of his reminiscences of the bard, orally communicated to
+us. An intelligent abridgment of the autobiography appears in
+_Blackwood's Magazine_, vol. iv. p. 273. See likewise the _Encyclopaedia
+Britannica_, vol. xv. p. 307.
+
+[11] "The Songs of Scotland, Ancient and Modern," by Allan Cunningham,
+vol. i. p. 242. London, 1825; 4 vols. 12mo.
+
+
+
+
+MARY OF CASTLECARY.[12]
+
+TUNE--_"Bonnie Dundee."_
+
+
+ "Oh, saw ye my wee thing? saw ye my ain thing?
+ Saw ye my true love, down on yon lee?
+ Cross'd she the meadow yestreen at the gloamin'?
+ Sought she the burnie whare flow'rs the haw-tree?
+ Her hair it is lint-white; her skin it is milk-white;
+ Dark is the blue o' her saft rolling e'e;
+ Red, red her ripe lips, and sweeter than roses:
+ Whare could my wee thing wander frae me?"
+
+ "I saw na your wee thing, I saw na your ain thing,
+ Nor saw I your true love, down on yon lea;
+ But I met my bonnie thing, late in the gloamin',
+ Down by the burnie whare flow'rs the haw-tree.
+ Her hair it was lint-white; her skin it was milk-white;
+ Dark was the blue o' her saft rolling e'e;
+ Red were her ripe lips, and sweeter than roses:
+ Sweet were the kisses that she ga'e to me!"
+
+ "It was na my wee thing, it was na my ain thing,
+ It was na my true love, ye met by the tree:
+ Proud is her leal heart--modest her nature;
+ She never lo'ed ony till ance she lo'ed me.
+ Her name it is Mary; she 's frae Castlecary;
+ Aft has she sat, when a bairn, on my knee;--
+ Fair as your face is, were 't fifty times fairer,
+ Young bragger, she ne'er would gi'e kisses to thee."
+
+ "It was, then, your Mary; she 's frae Castlecary;
+ It was, then, your true love I met by the tree;--
+ Proud as her heart is, and modest her nature,
+ Sweet were the kisses that she ga'e to me."
+ Sair gloom'd his dark brow, blood-red his cheek grew;
+ Wild flash'd the fire frae his red rolling e'e--
+ "Ye 's rue sair, this morning, your boasts and your scorning;
+ Defend, ye fause traitor! fu' loudly ye lie."
+
+ "Awa' wi' beguiling," cried the youth, smiling;--
+ Aff went the bonnet; the lint-white locks flee;
+ The belted plaid fa'ing, her white bosom shawing--
+ Fair stood the lo'ed maid wi' the dark rolling e'e.
+ "Is it my wee thing? is it mine ain thing?
+ Is it my true love here that I see?"
+ "Oh, Jamie, forgi'e me! your heart 's constant to me;
+ I 'll never mair wander, dear laddie, frae thee!"
+
+
+[12] This song was first published, in May 1791, in _The Bee_, an
+Edinburgh periodical, conducted by Dr James Anderson.
+
+
+
+
+MY BOY, TAMMY.[13]
+
+
+ "Whare hae ye been a' day,
+ My boy, Tammy?
+ Whare hae ye been a' day,
+ My boy, Tammy?"
+ "I 've been by burn and flow'ry brae,
+ Meadow green, and mountain gray,
+ Courting o' this young thing,
+ Just come frae her mammy."
+
+ "And whare got ye that young thing,
+ My boy, Tammy?"
+ "I gat her down in yonder howe,
+ Smiling on a broomy knowe,
+ Herding a wee lamb and ewe
+ For her poor mammy."
+
+ "What said ye to the bonnie bairn,
+ My boy, Tammy?"
+ "I praised her een, sae bonny blue,
+ Her dimpled cheek, and cherry mou';
+ I pree'd it aft, as ye may true;--
+ She said she 'd tell her mammy.
+
+ "I held her to my beating heart,
+ My young, my smiling lammie!
+ 'I hae a house, it cost me dear;
+ I 've wealth o' plenishin' and gear;--
+ Ye 'se get it a', were 't ten times mair,
+ Gin ye will leave your mammy.'
+
+ "The smile gaed aff her bonnie face--
+ 'I maunna leave my mammy;
+ She 's gi'en me meat, she 's gi'en me claise,
+ She 's been my comfort a' my days;
+ My father's death brought mony waes--
+ I canna leave my mammy.'"
+
+ "We 'll tak her hame, and mak her fain,
+ My ain kind-hearted lammie;
+ We 'll gi'e her meat, we 'll gi'e her claise,
+ We 'll be her comfort a' her days."
+ The wee thing gi'es her hand and says--
+ "There! gang and ask my mammy."
+
+ "Has she been to kirk wi' thee,
+ My boy, Tammy?"
+ "She has been to kirk wi' me,
+ And the tear was in her e'e;
+ But, oh! she 's but a young thing,
+ Just come frae her mammy."
+
+
+[13] This beautiful ballad was first printed, in 1791, in _The Bee_. It
+is adapted to an old and sweet air, to which, however, very puerile
+words were attached.
+
+
+
+
+OH, TELL ME HOW FOR TO WOO![14]
+
+TUNE--_"Bonnie Dundee."_
+
+
+ "Oh, tell me, bonnie young lassie!
+ Oh, tell me how for to woo!
+ Oh, tell me, bonnie sweet lassie!
+ Oh, tell me how for to woo!
+ Say, maun I roose your cheeks like the morning?
+ Lips, like the roses, fresh moisten'd wi' dew;
+ Say, maun I roose your een's pawkie scorning?
+ Oh, tell me how for to woo!
+
+ "Far hae I wander'd to see thee, dear lassie!
+ Far hae I ventured across the saut sea;
+ Far hae I travell'd ower moorland and mountain,
+ Houseless and weary, sleep'd cauld on the lea.
+ Ne'er hae I tried yet to mak love to onie,
+ For ne'er lo'ed I onie till ance I lo'ed you;
+ Now we 're alane in the green-wood sae bonnie--
+ Oh, tell me how for to woo!"
+
+ "What care I for your wand'ring, young laddie?
+ What care I for your crossing the sea?
+ It was na for naething ye left poor young Peggie;
+ It was for my tocher ye cam' to court me.
+ Say, hae ye gowd to busk me aye gaudie?
+ Ribbons, and perlins, and breast-knots enew?
+ A house that is canty, with wealth in 't, my laddie?
+ Without this ye never need try for to woo."
+
+ "I hae na gowd to busk ye aye gaudie;
+ I canna buy ribbons and perlins enew;
+ I 've naething to brag o' house, or o' plenty,
+ I 've little to gi'e, but a heart that is true.
+ I cam' na for tocher--I ne'er heard o' onie;
+ I never lo'ed Peggy, nor e'er brak my vow:
+ I 've wander'd, puir fule! for a face fause as bonnie:
+ I little thocht this was the way for to woo."
+
+ "Our laird has fine houses, and guineas o' gowd
+ He 's youthfu', he 's blooming, and comely to see.
+ The leddies are a' ga'en wud for the wooer,
+ And yet, ilka e'ening, he leaves them for me.
+ Oh, saft in the gloaming, his love he discloses!
+ And saftly, yestreen, as I milked my cow,
+ He swore that my breath it was sweeter than roses,
+ And a' the gait hame he did naething but woo."
+
+ "Ah, Jenny! the young laird may brag o' his siller,
+ His houses, his lands, and his lordly degree;
+ His speeches for _true love_ may drap sweet as honey,
+ But trust me, dear Jenny, he ne'er lo'ed like _me_.
+ The wooin' o' gentry are fine words o' fashion--
+ The faster they fa' as the heart is least true;
+ The dumb look o' love 's aft the best proof o' passion;
+ The heart that feels maist is the least fit to woo."
+
+ "Hae na ye roosed my cheeks like the morning?
+ Hae na ye roosed my cherry-red mou'?
+ Hae na ye come ower sea, moor, and mountain?
+ What mair, Johnnie, need ye to woo?
+ Far ye wander'd, I ken, my dear laddie;
+ Now that ye 've found me, there 's nae cause to rue;
+ Wi' health we 'll hae plenty--I 'll never gang gaudie;
+ I ne'er wish'd for mair than a heart that is true."
+
+ She hid her fair face in her true lover's bosom,
+ The saft tear o' transport fill'd ilk lover's e'e;
+ The burnie ran sweet by their side as they sabbit,
+ And sweet sang the mavis aboon on the tree.
+ He clasp'd her, he press'd her, and ca'd her his hinny;
+ And aften he tasted her honey-sweet mou';
+ And aye, 'tween ilk kiss, she sigh'd to her Johnnie,
+ "Oh, laddie! weel can ye woo."
+
+
+[14] Mr Graham, of Gartmore, an intimate friend of Hector Macneill,
+composed a song, having a similar burden, the chorus proceeding thus:--
+
+ "Then, tell me how to woo thee, love;
+ Oh, tell me how to woo thee!
+ For thy dear sake nae care I'll take,
+ Though ne'er another trow me."
+
+This was published by Sir Walter Scott, in the "Minstrelsy of the
+Scottish Border," as a production of the reign of Charles I.
+
+
+
+
+LASSIE WI' THE GOWDEN HAIR.
+
+
+ Lassie wi' the gowden hair,
+ Silken snood, and face sae fair;
+ Lassie wi' the yellow hair,
+ Thinkna to deceive me.
+ Lassie wi' the gowden hair,
+ Flattering smile, and face sae fair,
+ Fare ye weel! for never mair
+ Johnnie will believe ye.
+ Oh, no! Mary Bawn, Mary Bawn, Mary Bawn;
+ Oh, no! Mary Bawn, ye 'll nae mair deceive me.
+
+ Smiling, twice ye made me troo,
+ Twice, poor fool! I turn'd to woo;
+ Twice, fause maid! ye brak your vow;
+ Now I 've sworn to leave ye.
+ Twice, fause maid! ye brak your vow;
+ Twice, poor fool! I 've learn'd to rue;
+ Come ye yet to mak me troo?
+ Thrice ye 'll ne'er deceive me.
+ No, no! Mary Bawn, Mary Bawn, Mary Bawn;
+ Oh, no! Mary Bawn; thrice ye 'll ne'er deceive me.
+
+ Mary saw him turn to part;
+ Deep his words sank in her heart;
+ Soon the tears began to start--
+ "Johnnie, will ye leave me?"
+ Soon the tears began to start,
+ Grit and gritter grew his heart;
+ "Yet a word before we part,
+ Love could ne'er deceive ye.
+ Oh, no! Johnnie doo, Johnnie doo, Johnnie doo;
+ Oh, no! Johnnie doo--love could ne'er deceive ye."
+
+ Johnnie took a parting keek;
+ Saw the tears drap owre her cheek;
+ Pale she stood, but couldna speak--
+ Mary 's cured o' smiling.
+ Johnnie took anither keek--
+ Beauty's rose has left her cheek;
+ Pale she stands, and canna speak.
+ This is nae beguiling.
+ Oh, no! Mary Bawn, Mary Bawn, dear Mary Bawn;
+ Oh, no; Mary Bawn--love has nae beguiling.
+
+
+
+
+COME UNDER MY PLAIDIE.
+
+TUNE--_"Johnnie M'Gill."_
+
+
+ "Come under my plaidie, the night 's gaun to fa';
+ Come in frae the cauld blast, the drift, and the snaw;
+ Come under my plaidie, and sit down beside me,
+ There 's room in 't, dear lassie, believe me, for twa.
+ Come under my plaidie, and sit down beside me,
+ I 'll hap ye frae every cauld blast that can blaw:
+ Oh, come under my plaidie, and sit down beside me!
+ There 's room in 't, dear lassie, believe me, for twa."
+
+ "Gae 'wa wi' your plaidie, auld Donald, gae 'wa,
+ I fear na the cauld blast, the drift, nor the snaw;
+ Gae 'wa wi' your plaidie, I 'll no sit beside ye;
+ Ye may be my gutcher;--auld Donald, gae 'wa.
+ I 'm gaun to meet Johnnie, he 's young and he 's bonnie;
+ He 's been at Meg's bridal, fu' trig and fu' braw;
+ Oh, nane dances sae lightly, sae gracefu', sae tightly!
+ His cheek 's like the new rose, his brow 's like the snaw."
+
+ "Dear Marion, let that flee stick fast to the wa';
+ Your Jock 's but a gowk, and has naething ava;
+ The hale o' his pack he has now on his back--
+ He 's thretty, and I am but threescore and twa.
+ Be frank now and kindly; I 'll busk ye aye finely;
+ To kirk or to market they 'll few gang sae braw;
+ A bein house to bide in, a chaise for to ride in,
+ And flunkies to 'tend ye as aft as ye ca'."
+
+ "My father 's aye tauld me, my mither and a',
+ Ye 'd mak a gude husband, and keep me aye braw;
+ It 's true I lo'e Johnnie, he 's gude and he 's bonnie;
+ But, waes me! ye ken he has naething ava.
+ I hae little tocher; you 've made a gude offer;
+ I 'm now mair than twenty--my time is but sma';
+ Sae gi'e me your plaidie, I 'll creep in beside ye--
+ I thocht ye 'd been aulder than threescore and twa."
+
+ She crap in ayont him, aside the stane wa',
+ Whare Johnnie was list'ning, and heard her tell a';
+ The day was appointed, his proud heart it dunted,
+ And strack 'gainst his side as if bursting in twa.
+ He wander'd hame weary, the night it was dreary;
+ And, thowless, he tint his gate 'mang the deep snaw;
+ The owlet was screamin' while Johnnie cried, "Women
+ Wad marry Auld Nick if he 'd keep them aye braw."
+
+
+
+
+I LO'ED NE'ER A LADDIE BUT ANE.[15]
+
+
+ I lo'ed ne'er a laddie but ane,
+ He lo'ed ne'er a lassie but me;
+ He 's willing to mak' me his ain,
+ And his ain I am willing to be.
+ He has coft me a rokelay o' blue,
+ And a pair o' mittens o' green;
+ The price was a kiss o' my mou',
+ And I paid him the debt yestreen.
+
+ Let ithers brag weel o' their gear,
+ Their land and their lordly degree;
+ I carena for aught but my dear,
+ For he 's ilka thing lordly to me:
+ His words are sae sugar'd and sweet!
+ His sense drives ilk fear far awa'!
+ I listen, poor fool! and I greet;
+ Yet how sweet are the tears as they fa'!
+
+ "Dear lassie," he cries, wi' a jeer,
+ "Ne'er heed what the auld anes will say;
+ Though we 've little to brag o', near fear--
+ What 's gowd to a heart that is wae?
+ Our laird has baith honours and wealth,
+ Yet see how he 's dwining wi' care;
+ Now we, though we 've naething but health,
+ Are cantie and leal evermair.
+
+ "O Marion! the heart that is true,
+ Has something mair costly than gear!
+ Ilk e'en it has naething to rue,
+ Ilk morn it has naething to fear.
+ Ye warldlings! gae hoard up your store,
+ And tremble for fear aught ye tyne;
+ Guard your treasures wi' lock, bar, and door,
+ While here in my arms I lock mine!"
+
+ He ends wi' a kiss and a smile--
+ Wae 's me! can I tak' it amiss?
+ My laddie 's unpractised in guile,
+ He 's free aye to daut and to kiss!
+ Ye lasses wha lo'e to torment
+ Your wooers wi' fause scorn and strife,
+ Play your pranks--I hae gi'en my consent,
+ And this nicht I 'm Jamie's for life!
+
+
+[15] The first stanza of this song, along with a second, which is
+unsuitable for insertion, has been ascribed, on the authority of Burns,
+to the Rev. John Clunie, minister of Borthwick, in Mid-Lothian, who died
+in 1819, aged sixty-two. Ritson, however, by prefixing the letters "J.
+D." to the original stanza would seem to point to a different author.
+
+
+
+
+DONALD AND FLORA.[16]
+
+
+ I.
+
+ When merry hearts were gay,
+ Careless of aught but play,
+ Poor Flora slipt away,
+ Sadd'ning to Mora;[17]
+ Loose flow'd her yellow hair,
+ Quick heaved her bosom bare,
+ As to the troubled air
+ She vented her sorrow.
+
+
+ II.
+
+ "Loud howls the stormy wist,
+ Cold, cold is winter's blast;
+ Haste, then, O Donald, haste,
+ Haste to thy Flora!
+ Twice twelve long months are o'er,
+ Since on a foreign shore
+ You promised to fight no more,
+ But meet me in Mora."
+
+
+ III.
+
+ "'Where now is Donald dear?'
+ Maids cry with taunting sneer;
+ 'Say, is he still sincere
+ To his loved Flora?'
+ Parents upbraid my moan,
+ Each heart is turn'd to stone:
+ 'Ah, Flora! thou 'rt now alone,
+ Friendless in Mora!'
+
+
+ IV.
+
+ "Come, then, O come away!
+ Donald, no longer stay;
+ Where can my rover stray
+ From his loved Flora!
+ Ah! sure he ne'er can be
+ False to his vows and me;
+ Oh, Heaven!--is not yonder he,
+ Bounding o'er Mora!"
+
+
+ V.
+
+ "Never, ah! wretched fair!"
+ Sigh'd the sad messenger,
+ "Never shall Donald mair
+ Meet his loved Flora!
+ Cold as yon mountain snow
+ Donald thy love lies low;
+ He sent me to soothe thy woe,
+ Weeping in Mora.
+
+
+ VI.
+
+ "Well fought our gallant men
+ On Saratoga's plain;
+ Thrice fled the hostile train
+ From British glory.
+ But, ah! though our foes did flee,
+ Sad was such victory--
+ Truth, love, and loyalty
+ Fell far from Mora.
+
+
+ VII.
+
+ "'Here, take this love-wrought plaid,'
+ Donald, expiring, said;
+ 'Give it to yon dear maid
+ Drooping in Mora.
+ Tell her, O Allan! tell
+ Donald thus bravely fell,
+ And that in his last farewell
+ He thought on his Flora.'"
+
+
+ VIII.
+
+ Mute stood the trembling fair,
+ Speechless with wild despair;
+ Then, striking her bosom bare,
+ Sigh'd out, "Poor Flora!
+ Ah, Donald! ah, well-a-day!"
+ Was all the fond heart could say:
+ At length the sound died away
+ Feebly in Mora.
+
+
+[16] This fine ballad was written by Macneill, to commemorate the death
+of his friend, Captain Stewart, a brave officer, betrothed to a young
+lady in Athole, who, in 1777, fell at the battle of Saratoga, in
+America. The words, which are adapted to an old Gaelic air, appear with
+music in Smith's "Scottish Minstrel," vol. iii. p. 28. The ballad, in
+the form given above, has been improved in several of the stanzas by the
+author, on his original version, published in Johnson's "Museum." See
+the "Museum," vol. iv. p. 238.
+
+[17] Mora is the name of a small valley in Athole, so designated by the
+two lovers.
+
+
+
+
+MY LUVE'S IN GERMANY.[18]
+
+TUNE--_"Ye Jacobites by name."_
+
+
+ My luve 's in Germanie, send him hame, send him hame;
+ My luve 's in Germanie, send him hame;
+ My luve 's in Germanie,
+ Fighting brave for royalty:
+ He may ne'er his Jeanie see--
+ Send him hame.
+
+ He 's as brave as brave can be--send him hame, send him hame;
+ He 's as brave as brave can be--send him hame;
+ He 's as brave as brave can be,
+ He wad rather fa' than flee;
+ His life is dear to me--
+ Send him hame.
+
+ Your luve ne'er learnt to flee, bonnie dame, bonnie dame,
+ Your luve ne'er learnt to flee, bonnie dame;
+ Your luve ne'er learnt to flee,
+ But he fell in Germanie,
+ In the cause of royalty,
+ Bonnie dame.
+
+ He 'll ne'er come ower the sea--Willie 's slain, Willie 's slain;
+ He 'll ne'er come ower the sea--Willie 's gane!
+ He 'll ne'er come ower the sea,
+ To his love and ain countrie:
+ This warld 's nae mair for me--
+ Willie 's gane!
+
+
+[18] This song was originally printed on a single sheet, by N. Stewart
+and Co., Edinburgh, in 1794, as the lament of a lady on the death of an
+officer. It does not appear in Macneill's "Poetical Works," but he
+asserted to Mr Stenhouse his claims to the authorship.--Johnson's
+"Museum," vol. iv. p. 323.
+
+
+
+
+DINNA THINK, BONNIE LASSIE.[19]
+
+TUNE--_"Clunie's Reel."_
+
+
+ "Oh, dinna think, bonnie lassie, I 'm gaun to leave thee!
+ Dinna think, bonnie lassie, I 'm gaun to leave thee;
+ Dinna think, bonnie lassie, I 'm gaun to leave thee;
+ I 'll tak a stick into my hand, and come again and see thee."
+
+ "Far 's the gate ye hae to gang; dark 's the night, and eerie;
+ Far 's the gate ye hae to gang; dark 's the night, and eerie;
+ Far 's the gate ye hae to gang; dark 's the night, and eerie;
+ Oh, stay this night wi' your love, and dinna gang and leave me."
+
+ "It 's but a night and hauf a day that I 'll leave my dearie;
+ But a night and hauf a day that I 'll leave my dearie;
+ But a night and hauf a day that I 'll leave my dearie;
+ Whene'er the sun gaes west the loch, I 'll come again and see thee."
+
+ "Dinna gang, my bonnie lad, dinna gang and leave me;
+ Dinna gang, my bonnie lad, dinna gang and leave me;
+ When a' the lave are sound asleep, I 'm dull and eerie;
+ And a' the lee-lang night I 'm sad, wi' thinking on my dearie."
+
+ "Oh, dinna think, bonnie lassie, I 'm gaun to leave thee!
+ Dinna think, bonnie lassie, I 'm gaun to leave thee;
+ Dinna think, bonnie lassie, I 'm gaun to leave thee;
+ Whene'er the sun gaes out o' sight, I 'll come again and see thee."
+
+ "Waves are rising o'er the sea; winds blaw loud and fear me;
+ Waves are rising o'er the sea; winds blaw loud and fear me;
+ While the winds and waves do roar, I am wae and drearie;
+ And gin ye lo'e me as ye say, ye winna gang and leave me."
+
+ "Oh, never mair, bonnie lassie, will I gang and leave thee!
+ Never mair, bonnie lassie, will I gang and leave thee;
+ Never mair, bonnie lassie, will I gang and leave thee;
+ E'en let the world gang as it will, I 'll stay at hame and cheer ye."
+
+ Frae his hand he coost his stick; "I winna gang and leave thee;"
+ Threw his plaid into the neuk; "Never can I grieve thee;"
+ Drew his boots, and flang them by; cried, "My lass, be cheerie;
+ I 'll kiss the tear frae aff thy cheek, and never leave my dearie."
+
+
+[19] The last verse of this song was added by John Hamilton. The song,
+on account of this addition, was not included by Macneill in the
+collected edition of his "Poetical Works." One of Miss Blamire's songs
+has the same opening line; and it has been conjectured by Mr Maxwell,
+the editor of her poems, that Macneill had been indebted to her song for
+suggesting his verses.
+
+
+
+
+MRS GRANT OF LAGGAN.
+
+
+Mrs Anne Grant, commonly styled of Laggan, to distinguish her from her
+contemporary, Mrs Grant of Carron, was born at Glasgow, in February
+1755. Her father, Mr Duncan Macvicar, was an officer in the army, and,
+by her mother, she was descended from the old family of Stewart, of
+Invernahyle, in Argyllshire. Her early infancy was passed at
+Fort-William; but her father having accompanied his regiment to America,
+and there become a settler, in the State of New York, at a very tender
+age she was taken by her mother across the Atlantic, to her new home.
+Though her third year had not been completed when she arrived in
+America, she retained a distinct recollection of her landing at
+Charlestown. By her mother she was taught to read, and a well-informed
+serjeant made her acquainted with writing. Her precocity for learning
+was remarkable. Ere she had reached her sixth year, she had made herself
+familiar with the Old Testament, and could speak the Dutch language,
+which she had learned from a family of Dutch settlers. The love of
+poetry and patriotism was simultaneously evinced. At this early period,
+she read Milton's "Paradise Lost" with attention, and even
+appreciation; and glowed with the enthusiastic ardour of a young heroine
+over the adventures of Wallace, detailed in the metrical history of
+Henry, the Minstrel. Her juvenile talent attracted the notice of the
+more intelligent settlers in the State, and gained her the friendship of
+the distinguished Madame Schuyler, whose virtues she afterwards depicted
+in her "Memoirs of an American Lady."
+
+In 1768, along with his wife and daughter, Mr Macvicar returned to
+Scotland, his health having suffered by his residence in America; and,
+during the three following summers, his daughter found means of
+gratifying her love of song, on the banks of the Cart, near Glasgow. The
+family residence was now removed to Fort-Augustus, where Mr Macvicar had
+received the appointment of barrack-master. The chaplain of the fort was
+the Rev. James Grant, a young clergyman, related to several of the more
+respectable families in the district, who was afterwards appointed
+minister of the parish of Laggan, in Inverness-shire. At Fort-Augustus,
+he had recommended himself to the affections of Miss Macvicar, by his
+elegant tastes and accomplished manners, and he now became the
+successful suitor for her hand. They were married in 1779, and Mrs
+Grant, to approve herself a useful helpmate to her husband, began
+assiduously to acquaint herself with the manners and habits of the
+humbler classes of the people. The inquiries instituted at this period
+were turned to an account more extensive than originally contemplated.
+Mr Grant, who was constitutionally delicate, died in 1801, leaving his
+widow and eight surviving children without any means of support, his
+worldly circumstances being considerably embarrassed.
+
+On a small farm which she had rented, in the vicinity of her late
+husband's parish, Mrs Grant resided immediately subsequent to his
+decease; but the profits of the lease were evidently inadequate for the
+comfortable maintenance of the family. Among the circle of her friends
+she was known as a writer of verses; in her ninth year, she had essayed
+an imitation of Milton; and she had written poetry, or at least verses,
+on the banks of the Cart and at Fort-Augustus. To aid in supporting her
+family, she was strongly advised to collect her pieces into a volume;
+and, to encourage her in acting upon this recommendation, no fewer than
+three thousand subscribers were procured for the work by her friends.
+The celebrated Duchess of Gordon proved an especial promoter of the
+cause. In 1803, a volume of poems appeared from her pen, which, though
+displaying no high powers, was favourably received, and had the double
+advantage of making her known, and of materially aiding her finances.
+From the profits, she made settlement of her late husband's liabilities;
+and now perceiving a likelihood of being able to support her family by
+her literary exertions, she abandoned the lease of her farm. She took up
+her residence near the town of Stirling, residing in the mansion of
+Gartur, in that neighbourhood. In 1806, she again appeared before the
+public as an author, by publishing a selection of her correspondence
+with her friends, in three duodecimo volumes, under the designation of
+"Letters from the Mountains." This work passed through several editions.
+In 1808, Mrs Grant published the life of her early friend, Madame
+Schuyler, under the designation of "Memoirs of an American Lady," in two
+volumes.
+
+From the rural retirement of Gartur, she soon removed to the town of
+Stirling; but in 1810, as her circumstances became more prosperous, she
+took up her permanent abode in Edinburgh. Some distinguished literary
+characters of the Scottish capital now resorted to her society. She was
+visited by Sir Walter Scott, Francis Jeffrey, James Hogg, and others,
+attracted by the vivacity of her conversation. The "Essays on the
+Superstitions of the Highlanders of Scotland" appeared in 1811, in two
+volumes; in 1814, she published a metrical work, in two parts, entitled
+"Eighteen Hundred and Thirteen;" and, in the year following, she
+produced her "Popular Models and Impressive Warnings for the Sons and
+Daughters of Industry."
+
+In 1825, Mrs Grant received a civil-list pension of L50 a-year, in
+consideration of her literary talents, which, with the profits of her
+works and the legacies of several deceased friends, rendered the latter
+period of her life sufficiently comfortable in respect of pecuniary
+means. She died on the 7th of November 1838, in the eighty-fourth year
+of her age, and retaining her faculties to the last. A collection of her
+correspondence was published in 1844, in three volumes octavo, edited by
+her only surviving son, John P. Grant, Esq.
+
+As a writer, Mrs Grant occupies a respectable place. She had the happy
+art of turning her every-day observation, as well as the fruits of her
+research, to the best account. Her letters, which she published at the
+commencement of her literary career, as well as those which appeared
+posthumously, are favourable specimens of that species of composition.
+As a poet, she attained to no eminence. "The Highlanders," her longest
+and most ambitious poetical effort, exhibits some glowing descriptions
+of mountain scenery, and the stern though simple manners of the Gael. Of
+a few songs which proceed from her pen, that commencing, "Oh, where,
+tell me where?" written on the occasion of the Marquis of Huntly's
+departure for Holland with his regiment, in 1799, has only become
+generally known. It has been parodied in a song, by an unknown author,
+entitled "The Blue Bells of Scotland," which has obtained a wider range
+of popularity.
+
+
+
+
+OH, WHERE, TELL ME WHERE?
+
+
+ "Oh, where, tell me where, is your Highland laddie gone?
+ Oh, where, tell me where, is your Highland laddie gone?"
+ "He 's gone, with streaming banners, where noble deeds are done,
+ And my sad heart will tremble till he come safely home.
+ He 's gone, with streaming banners, where noble deeds are done,
+ And my sad heart will tremble till he come safely home."
+
+ "Oh, where, tell me where, did your Highland laddie stay?
+ Oh, where, tell me where, did your Highland laddie stay?"
+ "He dwelt beneath the holly-trees, beside the rapid Spey,
+ And many a blessing follow'd him, the day he went away.
+ He dwelt beneath the holly-trees, beside the rapid Spey,
+ And many a blessing follow'd him, the day he went away."
+
+ "Oh, what, tell me what, does your Highland laddie wear?
+ Oh, what, tell me what, does your Highland laddie wear?"
+ "A bonnet with a lofty plume, the gallant badge of war,
+ And a plaid across the manly breast that yet shall wear a star;
+ A bonnet with a lofty plume, the gallant badge of war,
+ And a plaid across the manly breast that yet shall wear a star."
+
+ "Suppose, ah, suppose, that some cruel, cruel wound,
+ Should pierce your Highland laddie, and all your hopes confound!"
+ "The pipe would play a cheering march, the banners round him fly;
+ The spirit of a Highland chief would lighten in his eye;
+ The pipe would play a cheering march, the banners round him fly,
+ And for his king and country dear with pleasure he would die!"
+
+ "But I will hope to see him yet, in Scotland's bonny bounds;
+ But I will hope to see him yet, in Scotland's bonny bounds.
+ His native land of liberty shall nurse his glorious wounds,
+ While, wide through all our Highland hills, his warlike name resounds;
+ His native land of liberty shall nurse his glorious wounds,
+ While, wide through all our Highland hills, his warlike name resounds."
+
+
+
+
+OH, MY LOVE, LEAVE ME NOT![20]
+
+AIR--_"Bealach na Gharraidh."_
+
+
+ Oh, my love, leave me not!
+ Oh, my love, leave me not!
+ Oh, my love, leave me not!
+ Lonely and weary.
+
+ Could you but stay a while,
+ And my fond fears beguile,
+ I yet once more could smile,
+ Lightsome and cheery.
+
+ Night, with her darkest shroud,
+ Tempests that roar aloud,
+ Thunders that burst the cloud,
+ Why should I fear ye?
+
+ Till the sad hour we part,
+ Fear cannot make me start;
+ Grief cannot break my heart
+ Whilst thou art near me.
+
+ Should you forsake my sight,
+ Day would to me be night;
+ Sad, I would shun its light,
+ Heartless and weary.
+
+
+[20] From Albyn's "Anthology," vol. i. p. 42. Edinburgh, 1816, 4to.
+
+
+
+
+JOHN MAYNE.
+
+
+John Mayne, chiefly known as the author of "The Siller Gun," a poem
+descriptive of burgher habits in Scotland towards the close of the
+century, was born at Dumfries, on the 26th of March 1759. At the grammar
+school of his native town, under Dr Chapman, the learned rector, whose
+memory he has celebrated in the third canto of his principal poem, he
+had the benefit of a respectable elementary education; and having chosen
+the profession of a printer, he entered at an early age the printing
+office of the _Dumfries Journal_. In 1782, when his parents removed to
+Glasgow, to reside on a little property to which they had succeeded, he
+sought employment under the celebrated Messrs Foulis, in whose printing
+establishment he continued during the five following years. He paid a
+visit to London in 1785, with the view of advancing his professional
+interests, and two years afterwards he settled in the metropolis.
+
+Mayne, while a mere stripling, was no unsuccessful wooer of the Muse;
+and in his sixteenth year he produced the germ of that poem on which his
+reputation chiefly depends. This production, entitled "The Siller Gun,"
+descriptive of a sort of _walkingshaw_, or an ancient practice which
+obtained in his native town, of shooting, on the king's birth-day, for a
+silver tube or gun, which had been presented by James VI. to the
+incorporated trades, as a prize to the best marksman, was printed at
+Dumfries in 1777, on a small quarto page. The original edition consisted
+of twelve stanzas; in two years it increased to two cantos; in 1780, it
+was printed in three cantos; in 1808, it was published in London with a
+fourth; and in 1836, just before his death, the author added a fifth.
+The latest edition was published by subscription, in an elegant
+duodecimo volume.
+
+In 1780, in the pages of Ruddiman's _Weekly Magazine_, Mayne published a
+short poem on "Halloween," which suggested Burns's celebrated poem on
+the same subject. In 1781, he published at Glasgow his song of "Logan
+Braes," of which Burns afterwards composed a new version.
+
+In London, Mayne was first employed as printer, and subsequently became
+joint-editor and proprietor, along with Dr Tilloch, of the _Star_
+evening newspaper. With this journal he retained a connexion till his
+death, which took place at London on the 14th of March 1836.
+
+Besides the humorous and descriptive poem of "The Siller Gun," which, in
+the opinion of Sir Walter Scott, surpasses the efforts of Ferguson, and
+comes near to those of Burns,[21] Mayne published another epic
+production, entitled "Glasgow," which appeared in 1803, and has passed
+through several editions. In the same year he published "English, Scots,
+and Irishmen," a chivalrous address to the population of the three
+kingdoms. To the literary journals, his contributions, both in prose and
+verse, were numerous and interesting. Many of his songs and ballads
+enriched the columns of the journal which he so long and ably conducted.
+In early life, he maintained a metrical correspondence with Thomas
+Telford, the celebrated engineer, who was a native of the same county,
+and whose earliest ambition was to earn the reputation of a poet.[22]
+
+Possessed of entire amiability of disposition, and the utmost amenity of
+manners, John Mayne was warmly beloved among the circle of his friends.
+Himself embued with a deep sense of religion, though fond of innocent
+humour, he preserved in all his writings a becoming respect for sound
+morals, and is entitled to the commendation which a biographer has
+awarded him, of having never committed to paper a single line "the
+tendency of which was not to afford innocent amusement, or to improve
+and increase the happiness of mankind." He was singularly modest and
+even retiring. His eulogy has been pronounced by Allan Cunningham, who
+knew him well, that "a better or warmer-hearted man never existed." The
+songs, of which we have selected the more popular, abound in vigour of
+expression and sentiment, and are pervaded by a genuine pathos.
+
+
+[21] See Note to "Lady of the Lake."
+
+[22] See the _Encyclopaedia Britannica_, vol. xxi. p. 170.
+
+
+
+
+LOGAN BRAES.[23]
+
+
+ By Logan's streams, that rin sae deep,
+ Fu' aft wi' glee I've herded sheep,
+ I've herded sheep, or gather'd slaes,
+ Wi' my dear lad, on Logan braes.
+ But, waes my heart! thae days are gane,
+ And I wi' grief may herd alane;
+ While my dear lad maun face his faes,
+ Far, far frae me and Logan braes.
+
+ Nae mair at Logan kirk will he
+ Atween the preachings meet wi' me,
+ Meet wi' me, or, whan it's mirk,
+ Convoy me hame frae Logan kirk.
+ I weel may sing thae days are gane--
+ Frae kirk and fair I come alane,
+ While my dear lad maun face his faes,
+ Far, far frae me and Logan braes.
+
+ At e'en, when hope amaist is gane,
+ I daunder dowie and forlane;
+ I sit alane, beneath the tree
+ Where aft he kept his tryste wi' me.
+ Oh, could I see thae days again,
+ My lover skaithless, and my ain!
+ Beloved by friends, revered by faes,
+ We'd live in bliss on Logan braes.
+
+
+[23] This song originally consisted of two stanzas, the third stanza
+being subsequently added by the author. It is adapted to a beautiful old
+air, "Logan Water," incongruously connected with some indecorous
+stanzas. Burns deemed Mayne's version an elder production of the
+Scottish muse, and attempted to modernise the song, but his edition is
+decidedly inferior. Other four stanzas have been added, by some
+anonymous versifier, to Mayne's verses, which first appeared in Duncan's
+"Encyclopaedia of Scottish, English, and Irish Songs," printed at Glasgow
+in 1836, 2 vols. 12mo. In those stanzas the lover is brought back to
+Logan braes, and consummates his union with his weeping shepherdess. The
+stream of Logan takes its rise among the hills separating the parishes
+of Lesmahago and Muirkirk, and, after a flow of eight miles, deposits
+its waters into the Nethan river.
+
+
+
+
+HELEN OF KIRKCONNEL.[24]
+
+
+ I wish I were where Helen lies,
+ For night and day on me she cries;
+ And, like an angel, to the skies
+ Still seems to beckon me!
+ For me she lived, for me she sigh'd,
+ For me she wish'd to be a bride;
+ For me in life's sweet morn she died
+ On fair Kirkconnel-Lee!
+
+ Where Kirtle waters gently wind,
+ As Helen on my arm reclined,
+ A rival with a ruthless mind
+ Took deadly aim at me.
+ My love, to disappoint the foe,
+ Rush'd in between me and the blow;
+ And now her corse is lying low,
+ On fair Kirkconnel-Lee!
+
+ Though Heaven forbids my wrath to swell,
+ I curse the hand by which she fell--
+ The fiend who made my heaven a hell,
+ And tore my love from me!
+ For if, when all the graces shine,
+ Oh! if on earth there 's aught divine,
+ My Helen! all these charms were thine,
+ They centred all in thee!
+
+ Ah! what avails it that, amain,
+ I clove the assassin's head in twain?
+ No peace of mind, my Helen slain,
+ No resting-place for me.
+ I see her spirit in the air--
+ I hear the shriek of wild despair,
+ When murder laid her bosom bare,
+ On fair Kirkconnel-Lee!
+
+ Oh! when I 'm sleeping in my grave,
+ And o'er my head the rank weeds wave,
+ May He who life and spirit gave
+ Unite my love and me!
+ Then from this world of doubts and sighs,
+ My soul on wings of peace shall rise,
+ And, joining Helen in the skies,
+ Forget Kirkconnel-Lee.
+
+
+[24] During the reign of Mary, Queen of Scots, a young lady, of great
+personal attractions and numerous accomplishments, named Helen Irving,
+daughter of Irving of Kirkconnel, in Annandale, was betrothed to Adam
+Fleming de Kirkpatrick, a young gentleman of fortune in the
+neighbourhood. Walking with her lover on the banks of the Kirtle, she
+was slain by a shot which had been aimed at Fleming by a disappointed
+rival. The melancholy history has been made the theme of three different
+ballads, two of these being old. The present ballad, by Mr Mayne, was
+inserted by Sir Walter Scott in the Edinburgh _Annual Register_ of 1815.
+
+
+
+
+THE WINTER SAT LANG.
+
+
+ The winter sat lang on the spring o' the year,
+ Our seedtime was late, and our mailing was dear;
+ My mither tint her heart when she look'd on us a',
+ And we thought upon those that were farest awa'.
+ Oh, were they but here that are farest awa'!
+ Oh, were they but here that are dear to us a'!
+ Our cares would seem light and our sorrow but sma',
+ If they were but here that are far frae us a'!
+
+ Last week, when our hopes were o'erclouded wi' fear,
+ And nae ane at hame the dull prospect to cheer;
+ Our Johnnie has written, frae far awa' parts,
+ A letter that lightens and hauds up our hearts.
+ He says, "My dear mither, though I be awa',
+ In love and affection I 'm still wi' ye a';
+ While I hae a being ye 'se aye hae a ha',
+ Wi' plenty to keep out the frost and the snaw."
+
+ My mither, o'erjoy'd at this change in her state,
+ By the bairn she doated on early and late,
+ Gi'es thanks night and day to the Giver of a',
+ There 's been naething unworthy o' him that 's awa'!
+ Then here is to them that are far frae us a',
+ The friend that ne'er fail'd us, though farest awa'!
+ Health, peace, and prosperity wait on us a';
+ And a blithe comin' hame to the friend that 's awa'!
+
+
+
+
+MY JOHNNIE.
+
+AIR--_"Johnnie's Gray Breeks."_
+
+
+ Jenny's heart was frank and free,
+ And wooers she had mony, yet
+ The sang was aye, "Of a' I see,
+ Commend me to my Johnnie yet.
+ For ear' and late, he has sic gate
+ To mak' a body cheerie, that
+ I wish to be, before I dee,
+ His ain kind dearie yet."
+
+ Now Jenny's face was fu' o' grace,
+ Her shape was sma' and genty-like,
+ And few or nane in a' the place,
+ Had gowd or gear mair plenty, yet
+ Though war's alarms, and Johnnie's charms,
+ Had gart her oft look eerie, yet
+ She sung wi' glee, "I hope to be
+ My Johnnie's ain dearie yet.
+
+ "What though he's now gane far awa',
+ Whare guns and cannons rattle, yet
+ Unless my Johnnie chance to fa'
+ In some uncanny battle, yet
+ Till he return my breast will burn
+ Wi' love that weel may cheer me yet,
+ For I hope to see, before I dee,
+ His bairns to him endear me yet."
+
+
+
+
+THE TROOPS WERE EMBARKED.
+
+
+ The troops were all embark'd on board,
+ The ships were under weigh,
+ And loving wives, and maids adored,
+ Were weeping round the bay.
+
+ They parted from their dearest friends,
+ From all their heart desires;
+ And Rosabel to Heaven commends
+ The man her soul admires!
+
+ For him she fled from soft repose,
+ Renounced a parent's care;
+ He sails to crush his country's foes,
+ She wanders in despair!
+
+ A seraph in an infant's frame
+ Reclined upon her arm;
+ And sorrow in the lovely dame
+ Now heighten'd every charm:
+
+ She thought, if fortune had but smiled--
+ She thought upon her dear;
+ But when she look'd upon his child,
+ Oh, then ran many a tear!
+
+ "Ah! who will watch thee as thou sleep'st?
+ Who 'll sing a lullaby,
+ Or rock thy cradle when thou weep'st,
+ If I should chance to die?"
+
+ On board the ship, resign'd to fate,
+ Yet planning joys to come,
+ Her love in silent sorrow sate
+ Upon a broken drum.
+
+ He saw her lonely on the beach;
+ He saw her on the strand;
+ And far as human eye can reach
+ He saw her wave her hand!
+
+ "O Rosabel! though forced to go,
+ With thee my soul shall dwell,
+ And Heaven, who pities human woe,
+ Will comfort Rosabel!"
+
+
+
+
+JOHN HAMILTON.
+
+
+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]
+
+
+ Cauld blaws the wind frae north to south;
+ The drift is drifting sairly;
+ The sheep are cow'rin' in the heuch;
+ Oh, sirs, it 's winter fairly!
+ Now, up in the mornin's no for me,
+ Up in the mornin' early;
+ I'd rather gae supperless to my bed
+ Than rise in the mornin' early.
+
+ Loud roars the blast amang the woods,
+ And tirls the branches barely;
+ On hill and house hear how it thuds!
+ The frost is nippin' sairly.
+ Now, up in the mornin's no for me,
+ Up in the mornin' early;
+ To sit a' nicht wad better agree
+ Than rise in the mornin' early.
+
+ The sun peeps ower yon southland hills,
+ Like ony timorous carlie;
+ Just blinks a wee, then sinks again;
+ And that we find severely.
+ Now, up in the mornin's no for me,
+ Up in the mornin' early;
+ When snaw blaws in at the chimley cheek,
+ Wha 'd rise in the mornin' early?
+
+ Nae linties lilt on hedge or bush:
+ Poor things! they suffer sairly;
+ In cauldrife quarters a' the nicht,
+ A' day they feed but sparely.
+ Now, up in the mornin's no for me,
+ Up in the mornin' early;
+ A pennyless purse I wad rather dree,
+ Than rise in the mornin' early.
+
+ A cosie house and canty wife
+ Aye keep a body cheerly;
+ And pantries stowed wi' meat and drink,
+ They answer unco rarely.
+ But up in the mornin'--na, na, na!
+ Up in the mornin' early!
+ The gowans maun glint on bank and brae
+ When I rise in the mornin' early.
+
+
+[25] Burns composed two verses to the same tune, which is very old. It
+was a favourite of Queen Mary, the consort of William III. In his
+"Beggar's Opera," Gay has adopted the tune for one of his songs. It was
+published, in 1652, by John Hilton, as the third voice to what is called
+a "Northern Catch" for three voices, beginning--"I'se gae wi' thee, my
+sweet Peggy."
+
+
+
+
+GO TO BERWICK, JOHNNIE.[26]
+
+
+ Go to Berwick, Johnnie;
+ Bring her frae the Border;
+ Yon sweet bonnie lassie,
+ Let her gae nae farther.
+ English loons will twine ye
+ O' the lovely treasure;
+ But we 'll let them ken
+ A sword wi' them we 'll measure.
+
+ Go to Berwick, Johnnie,
+ And regain your honour;
+ Drive them ower the Tweed,
+ And show our Scottish banner.
+ I am Rob, the King,
+ And ye are Jock, my brither;
+ But, before we lose her,
+ We 'll a' there thegither.
+
+
+[26] These stanzas are founded on some lines of old doggerel,
+beginning--
+
+ "Go, go, go,
+ Go to Berwick, Johnnie;
+ Thou shalt have the horse,
+ And I shall have the pony."
+
+
+
+
+
+
+MISS FORBES' FAREWELL TO BANFF.
+
+
+ Farewell, ye fields an' meadows green!
+ The blest retreats of peace an' love;
+ Aft have I, silent, stolen from hence,
+ With my young swain a while to rove.
+ Sweet was our walk, more sweet our talk,
+ Among the beauties of the spring;
+ An' aft we 'd lean us on a bank,
+ To hear the feather'd warblers sing.
+
+ The azure sky, the hills around,
+ Gave double beauty to the scene;
+ The lofty spires of Banff in view--
+ On every side the waving grain.
+ The tales of love my Jamie told,
+ In such a saft an' moving strain,
+ Have so engaged my tender heart,
+ I 'm loth to leave the place again.
+
+ But if the Fates will be sae kind
+ As favour my return once more,
+ For to enjoy the peace of mind
+ In those retreats I had before:
+ Now, farewell, Banff! the nimble steeds
+ Do bear me hence--I must away;
+ Yet time, perhaps, may bring me back,
+ To part nae mair from scenes so gay.
+
+
+
+
+TELL ME, JESSIE, TELL ME WHY?
+
+
+ Tell me, Jessie, tell me why
+ My fond suit you still deny?
+ Is your bosom cold as snow?
+ Did you never feel for woe?
+ Can you hear, without a sigh,
+ Him complain who for you could die?
+ If you ever shed a tear,
+ Hear me, Jessie, hear, O hear!
+
+ Life to me is not more dear
+ Than the hour brings Jessie here;
+ Death so much I do not fear
+ As the parting moment near.
+ Summer smiles are not so sweet
+ As the bloom upon your cheek;
+ Nor the crystal dew so clear
+ As your eyes to me appear.
+
+ These are part of Jessie's charms,
+ Which the bosom ever warms;
+ But the charms by which I 'm stung,
+ Come, O Jessie, from thy tongue!
+ Jessie, be no longer coy;
+ Let me taste a lover's joy;
+ With your hand remove the dart,
+ And heal the wound that 's in my heart.
+
+
+
+
+THE HAWTHORN.
+
+
+ Last midsummer's morning, as going to the fair,
+ I met with young Jamie, wh'as taking the air;
+ He ask'd me to stay with him, and indeed he did prevail,
+ Beneath the pretty hawthorn that blooms in the vale--
+ That blooms in the valley, that blooms in the vale,
+ Beneath the pretty hawthorn that blooms in the vale.
+
+ He said he had loved me both long and sincere,
+ That none on the green was so gentle and fair;
+ I listen'd with pleasure to Jamie's tender tale,
+ Beneath the pretty hawthorn that blooms in the vale--
+ That blooms in the valley, &c.
+
+ "Oh, haste," says he, "to hear the birds in the grove,
+ How charming their song, and enticing to love!
+ The briers that with roses perfume the passing gale,
+ And meet the pretty hawthorn that blooms in the vale"--
+ That blooms in the valley, &c.
+
+ His words were so moving, and looks soft and kind,
+ Convinced me the youth had nae guile in his mind;
+ My heart, too, confess'd him the flower of the dale,
+ Beneath the pretty hawthorn that blooms in the vale--
+ That blooms in the valley, &c.
+
+ Yet I oft bade him go, for I could no longer stay,
+ But leave me he would not, nor let me away;
+ Still pressing his suit, and at last did prevail,
+ Beneath the pretty hawthorn that blooms in the vale--
+ That blooms in the valley, &c.
+
+ Now tell me, ye maidens, how could I refuse?
+ His words were so sweet, and so binding his vows!
+ We went and were married, and Jamie loves me still,
+ And we live beside the hawthorn that blooms in the vale--
+ That blooms in the valley, that blooms in the vale,
+ We live beside the hawthorn that blooms in the vale.
+
+
+
+
+OH, BLAW, YE WESTLIN' WINDS![27]
+
+
+ Oh, blaw, ye westlin' winds, blaw saft
+ Amang the leafy trees!
+ Wi' gentle gale, frae muir and dale,
+ Bring hame the laden bees;
+ And bring the lassie back to me,
+ That 's aye sae neat and clean;
+ Ae blink of her wad banish care,
+ Sae lovely is my Jean.
+
+ What sighs and vows, amang the knowes,
+ Hae pass'd atween us twa!
+ How fain to meet, how wae to part,
+ That day she gaed awa'!
+ The Powers aboon can only ken,
+ To whom the heart is seen,
+ That nane can be sae dear to me
+ As my sweet, lovely Jean.
+
+
+[27] These verses were written as a continuation to Burns's "Of a' the
+airts the wind can blaw." Other two stanzas were added to the same song
+by W. Reid.--See _postea_.
+
+
+
+
+JOANNA BAILLIE.
+
+
+Joanna Baillie was born on the 11th of September 1762, in the manse of
+Bothwell, in Lanarkshire. Her father, Dr James Baillie, was descended
+from the old family of Baillie of Lamington, and was consequently
+entitled to claim propinquity with the distinguished Principal Robert
+Baillie, and the family of Baillie of Jerviswood, so celebrated for its
+Christian patriotism. The mother of Joanna likewise belonged to an
+honourable house: she was a descendant of the Hunters of Hunterston; and
+her two brothers attained a wide reputation in the world of science--Dr
+William Hunter being an eminent physician, and Mr John Hunter the
+greatest anatomist of his age. Joanna--a twin, the other child being
+still-born--was the youngest of a family of three children. Her only
+brother was Dr Matthew Baillie, highly distinguished in the medical
+world. Agnes, her sister, who was eldest of the family, remained
+unmarried, and continued to live with her under the same roof.
+
+In the year 1768, Dr Baillie was transferred from the parochial charge
+of Bothwell to the office of collegiate minister of Hamilton,--a town
+situate, like his former parish, on the banks of the Clyde. He was
+subsequently elected Professor of Divinity in the University of
+Glasgow. After his death, which took place in 1778, his daughters both
+continued, along with their widowed mother, to live at Long Calderwood,
+in the vicinity of Hamilton, until 1784, when they all accepted an
+invitation to reside with Dr Matthew Baillie, who had entered on his
+medical career in London, and had become possessor of a house in Great
+Windmill Street, built by his now deceased uncle, Dr Hunter.
+
+Though evincing no peculiar promptitude in the acquisition of learning,
+Joanna had, at the very outset of life, exhibited remarkable talent in
+rhyme-making. She composed verses before she could read, and, before she
+could have fancied a theatre, formed dialogues for dramatic
+representations, which she carried on with her companions. But she did
+not early seek distinction as an author. At the somewhat mature age of
+twenty-eight, after she had gone to London, she first published, and
+that anonymously, a volume of miscellaneous poems, which did not excite
+any particular attention. In 1798, she published, though anonymously at
+first, "A Series of Plays: in which it is attempted to delineate the
+stronger Passions of the Mind, each Passion being the subject of a
+Tragedy and a Comedy." In a lengthened preliminary dissertation, she
+discoursed regarding the drama in all its relations, maintaining the
+ascendency of simple nature over every species of adornment and
+decoration. "Let one simple trait of the human heart, one expression of
+passion, genuine and true to nature," she wrote, "be introduced, and it
+will stand forth alone in the boldness of reality, whilst the false and
+unnatural around it fades away upon every side, like the rising
+exhalations of the morning." The reception of these plays was sufficient
+to satisfy the utmost ambition of the author, and established the
+foundation of her fame. "Nothing to compare with them had been produced
+since the great days of the English drama; and the truth, vigour,
+variety, and dignity of the dramatic portraits, in which they abound,
+might well justify an enthusiasm which a reader of the present day can
+scarcely be expected to feel. This enthusiasm was all the greater, when
+it became known that these remarkable works, which had been originally
+published anonymously, were from the pen of a woman still young, who had
+passed her life in domestic seclusion."[28] Encouraged by the success of
+the first volume of her dramas on the "Passions," the author added a
+second in 1802, and a third in 1812. During the interval, she published
+a volume of miscellaneous dramas in 1804, and produced the "Family
+Legend" in 1810,--a tragedy, founded upon a Highland tradition. With a
+prologue by Sir Walter Scott, and an epilogue by Henry Mackenzie, the
+"Family Legend" was produced at the Edinburgh theatre, under the
+auspices of the former illustrious character; and was ably supported by
+Mrs Siddons, and by Terry, then at the commencement of his career. It
+was favourably received during ten successive performances. "You have
+only to imagine all that you could wish to give success to a play,"
+wrote Sir Walter Scott to the author, "and your conceptions will still
+fall short of the complete and decided triumph of the 'Family Legend.'
+The house was crowded to a most extraordinary degree; many people had
+come from your native capital of the west; everything that pretended to
+distinction, whether from rank or literature, was in the boxes; and in
+the pit, such an aggregate mass of humanity as I have seldom, if ever,
+witnessed in the same space." Other two of her plays, "Count Basil" and
+"De Montfort," brought out in London, the latter being sustained by
+Kemble and Siddons, likewise received a large measure of general
+approbation; but a want of variety of incident prevented their retaining
+a position on the stage. In 1836, she produced three additional volumes
+of dramas; her career as a dramatic writer thus extending over the
+period of nearly forty years.
+
+Subsequent to her leaving Scotland, in 1784, Joanna Baillie did not
+return to her native kingdom, unless on occasional visits. On the
+marriage of her brother to a sister of the Lord Chief-Justice Denman, in
+1791, she passed some years at Colchester; but she subsequently fixed
+her permanent habitation at Hampstead. Her mother died in 1806. At
+Hampstead, in the companionship of her only sister, whose virtues she
+has celebrated in one of her poems, and amidst the society of many of
+the more distinguished literary characters of the metropolis, she
+continued to enjoy a large amount of comfort and happiness. Her
+pecuniary means were sufficiently abundant, and rendered her entirely
+independent of the profits of her writings. Among her literary friends,
+one of the most valued was Sir Walter Scott, who, being introduced to
+her personal acquaintance on his visit to London in 1806, maintained
+with her an affectionate and lasting intimacy. The letters addressed to
+her are amongst the most interesting of his correspondence in his Memoir
+by his son-in-law. He evinced his estimation of her genius by frequently
+complimenting her in his works. In his "Epistle to William Erskine,"
+which forms the introduction to the third canto of "Marmion," he thus
+generously eulogises his gifted friend:--
+
+ "Or, if to touch such chord be thine,
+ Restore the ancient tragic line,
+ And emulate the notes that wrung
+ From the wild harp, which silent hung
+ By silver Avon's holy shore,
+ Till twice a hundred years roll'd o'er;
+ When she, the bold Enchantress, came,
+ With fearless hand and heart on flame!
+ From the pale willow snatch'd the treasure,
+ And swept it with a kindred measure,
+ Till Avon's swans, while rung the grove
+ With Montfort's hate and Basil's love,
+ Awakening at the inspired strain,
+ Deem'd their own Shakspeare lived again."
+
+To Joanna, Scott inscribed his fragmental drama of "Macduff's Cross,"
+which was included in a Miscellany published by her in 1823.
+
+Though a penury of incident, and a defectiveness of skill in sustaining
+an increasing interest to the close, will probably prevent any of her
+numerous plays from being renewed on the stage, Joanna Baillie is well
+entitled to the place assigned her as one of the first of modern
+dramatists. In all her plays there are passages and scenes surpassed by
+no contemporaneous dramatic writer. Her works are a magazine of eloquent
+thoughts and glowing descriptions. She is a mistress of the emotions,
+and
+
+ "Within _her_ mighty page,
+ Each tyrant passion shews his woe and rage."
+
+The tragedies of "Count Basil" and "De Montfort" are her best plays, and
+are well termed by Sir Walter Scott a revival of the great Bard of Avon.
+Forcible and energetic in style, her strain never becomes turgid or
+diverges into commonplace. She is masculine, but graceful; and powerful
+without any ostentation of strength. Her personal history was the
+counterpart of her writings. Gentle in manners and affable in
+conversation, she was a model of the household virtues, and would have
+attracted consideration as a woman by her amenities, though she had
+possessed no reputation in the world of letters. She was eminently
+religious and benevolent. Her countenance bore indication of a superior
+intellect and deep penetration. Though her society was much cherished by
+her contemporaries, including distinguished foreigners who visited the
+metropolis, her life was spent in general retirement. She was averse to
+public demonstration, and seemed scarcely conscious of her power. She
+died at Hampstead, on the 23d of February 1851, at the very advanced age
+of eighty-nine, and a few weeks after the publication of her whole Works
+in a collected form.
+
+The songs of Joanna Baillie immediately obtained an honourable place in
+the minstrelsy of her native kingdom. They are the simple and graceful
+effusions of a heart passionately influenced by the melodies of the
+"land of the heath and the thistle," and animated by those warm
+affections so peculiarly nurtured in the region of "the mountain and the
+flood." "Fy, let us a' to the wedding," "Saw ye Johnnie comin'?" "It
+fell on a morning when we were thrang," and "Woo'd, and married, and
+a'," maintain popularity among all classes of Scotsmen throughout the
+world. Several of the songs were written for Thomson's "Melodies," and
+"The Harp of Caledonia," a collection of songs published at Glasgow in
+1821, in three vols. 12mo, under the editorial care of John Struthers,
+author of "The Poor Man's Sabbath." The greater number are included in
+the present work.
+
+
+[28] _Literary Gazette_, March 1851.
+
+
+
+
+THE MAID OF LLANWELLYN.
+
+
+ I 've no sheep on the mountain, nor boat on the lake,
+ Nor coin in my coffer to keep me awake,
+ Nor corn in my garner, nor fruit on my tree--
+ Yet the maid of Llanwellyn smiles sweetly on me.
+
+ Soft tapping, at eve, to her window I came,
+ And loud bay'd the watch-dog, loud scolded the dame;
+ For shame, silly Lightfoot; what is it to thee,
+ Though the maid of Llanwellyn smiles sweetly on me?
+
+ Rich Owen will tell you, with eyes full of scorn,
+ Threadbare is my coat, and my hosen are torn:
+ Scoff on, my rich Owen, for faint is thy glee
+ When the maid of Llanwellyn smiles sweetly on me.
+
+ The farmer rides proudly to market or fair,
+ The clerk, at the alehouse, still claims the great chair;
+ But of all our proud fellows the proudest I 'll be,
+ While the maid of Llanwellyn smiles sweetly on me.
+
+ For blythe as the urchin at holiday play,
+ And meek as the matron in mantle of gray,
+ And trim as the lady of gentle degree,
+ Is the maid of Llanwellyn who smiles upon me.
+
+
+
+
+GOOD NIGHT, GOOD NIGHT!
+
+
+ The sun is sunk, the day is done,
+ E'en stars are setting one by one;
+ Nor torch nor taper longer may
+ Eke out the pleasures of the day;
+ And since, in social glee's despite,
+ It needs must be, Good night, good night!
+
+ The bride into her bower is sent,
+ And ribbald rhyme and jesting spent;
+ The lover's whisper'd words and few
+ Have bade the bashful maid adieu;
+ The dancing-floor is silent quite--
+ No foot bounds there, Good night, good night!
+
+ The lady in her curtain'd bed,
+ The herdsman in his wattled shed,
+ The clansman in the heather'd hall,
+ Sweet sleep be with you, one and all!
+ We part in hope of days as bright
+ As this now gone--Good night, good night!
+
+ Sweet sleep be with us, one and all!
+ And if upon its stillness fall
+ The visions of a busy brain,
+ We 'll have our pleasure o'er again;
+ To warm the heart, to charm the sight,
+ Gay dreams to all! Good night, good night!
+
+
+
+
+THOUGH RICHER SWAINS THY LOVE PURSUE.
+
+
+ Though richer swains thy love pursue,
+ In Sunday gear and bonnets new;
+ And every fair before thee lay
+ Their silken gifts, with colours gay--
+ They love thee not, alas! so well
+ As one who sighs, and dare not tell;
+ Who haunts thy dwelling, night and noon,
+ In tatter'd hose and clouted shoon.
+
+ I grieve not for my wayward lot,
+ My empty folds, my roofless cot;
+ Nor hateful pity, proudly shown,
+ Nor altered looks, nor friendship flown;
+ Nor yet my dog, with lanken sides,
+ Who by his master still abides;
+ But how wilt thou prefer my boon,
+ In tatter'd hose and clouted shoon?
+
+
+
+
+POVERTY PARTS GUDE COMPANIE.[29]
+
+AIR--_"Todlin' Hame."_
+
+
+ When white was my owrelay as foam of the linn,
+ And siller was chinking my pouches within;
+ When my lambkins were bleating on meadow and brae,
+ As I gaed to my love in new cleeding sae gay--
+ Kind was she, and my friends were free;
+ But poverty parts gude companie.
+
+ How swift pass'd the minutes and hours of delight!
+ The piper play'd cheerly, the cruisie burn'd bright;
+ And link'd in my hand was the maiden sae dear,
+ As she footed the floor in her holiday gear.
+ Woe is me! and can it then be,
+ That poverty parts sic companie?
+
+ We met at the fair, and we met at the kirk;
+ We met in the sunshine, we met in the mirk;
+ And the sound of her voice, and the blinks of her een,
+ The cheering and life of my bosom have been.
+ Leaves frae the tree at Martinmas flee,
+ And poverty parts sweet companie.
+
+ At bridal and in fair I 've braced me wi' pride,
+ The _bruse_ I hae won, and a kiss of the bride;
+ And loud was the laughter, gay fellows among,
+ When I utter'd my banter, or chorus'd my song.
+ Dowie to dree are jesting and glee,
+ When poverty parts gude companie.
+
+ Wherever I gaed the blythe lasses smiled sweet,
+ And mithers and aunties were mair than discreet,
+ While kebbuck and bicker were set on the board;
+ But now they pass by me, and never a word.
+ So let it be; for the worldly and slie
+ Wi' poverty keep nae companie.
+
+ But the hope of my love is a cure for its smart;
+ The spaewife has tauld me to keep up my heart;
+ For wi' my last sixpence her loof I hae cross'd,
+ And the bliss that is fated can never be lost.
+ Cruelly though we ilka day see
+ How poverty parts dear companie.
+
+
+[29] This song was written for Thomson's "Melodies." "Todlin' Hame," the
+air to which it is adapted, appears in Ramsay's "Tea-Table Miscellany"
+as an old song. The words begin--"When I hae a saxpence under my thum."
+Burns remarks that "it is perhaps one of the first bottle-songs that
+ever was composed."
+
+
+
+
+FY, LET US A' TO THE WEDDING.[30]
+
+
+ Fy, let us a' to the wedding,
+ For they will be lilting there;
+ For Jock's to be married to Maggie,
+ The lass wi' the gowden hair.
+ And there will be jilting and jeering,
+ And glancing of bonnie dark een;
+ Loud laughing and smooth-gabbit speering
+ O' questions, baith pawky and keen.
+
+ And there will be Bessy, the beauty,
+ Wha raises her cock-up sae hie,
+ And giggles at preachings and duty;
+ Gude grant that she gang nae ajee!
+ And there will be auld Geordie Tanner,
+ Wha coft a young wife wi' his gowd;
+ She 'll flaunt wi' a silk gown upon her,
+ But, wow! he looks dowie and cowed.
+
+ And braw Tibby Fowler, the heiress,
+ Will perk at the top o' the ha',
+ Encircled wi' suitors, whase care is
+ To catch up the gloves when they fa'.
+ Repeat a' her jokes as they 're cleckit,
+ And haver and glower in her face,
+ When tocherless Mays are negleckit--
+ A crying and scandalous case.
+
+ And Mysie, whase clavering aunty
+ Wad match her wi' Jamie, the laird;
+ And learns the young fouk to be vaunty,
+ But neither to spin nor to caird.
+ And Andrew, whase granny is yearning
+ To see him a clerical blade,
+ Was sent to the college for learning,
+ And cam' back a coof, as he gaed.
+
+ And there will be auld Widow Martin,
+ That ca's hersel' thretty and twa!
+ And thrawn-gabbit Madge, wha for certain
+ Was jilted by Hab o' the Shaw.
+ And Elspy, the sewster, sae genty--
+ A pattern of havens and sense--
+ Will straik on her mittens sae dainty,
+ And crack wi' Mess John in the spence.
+
+ And Angus, the seer o' ferlies,
+ That sits on the stane at his door,
+ And tells about bogles, and mair lies
+ Than tongue ever utter'd before.
+ And there will be Bauldy, the boaster,
+ Sae ready wi' hands and wi' tongue;
+ Proud Paty and silly Sam Foster,
+ Wha quarrel wi' auld and wi' young.
+
+ And Hugh, the town-writer, I 'm thinking,
+ That trades in his lawyerly skill,
+ Will egg on the fighting and drinking,
+ To bring after grist to his mill.
+ And Maggie--na, na! we 'll be civil,
+ And let the wee bridie abee;
+ A vilipend tongue it is evil,
+ And ne'er was encouraged by me.
+
+ Then fy, let us a' to the wedding,
+ For they will be lilting there,
+ Frae mony a far-distant ha'ding,
+ The fun and the feasting to share.
+ For they will get sheep's-head and haggis,
+ And browst o' the barley-mow;
+ E'en he that comes latest and lagis
+ May feast upon dainties enow.
+
+ Veal florentines, in the o'en baken,
+ Weel plenish'd wi' raisins and fat;
+ Beef, mutton, and chuckies, a' taken
+ Het reekin' frae spit and frae pat.
+ And glasses (I trow 'tis nae said ill)
+ To drink the young couple gude luck,
+ Weel fill'd wi' a braw beechen ladle,
+ Frae punch-bowl as big as Dumbuck.
+
+ And then will come dancing and daffing,
+ And reelin' and crossin' o' han's,
+ Till even auld Lucky is laughing,
+ As back by the aumry she stan's.
+ Sic bobbing, and flinging, and whirling,
+ While fiddlers are making their din;
+ And pipers are droning and skirling,
+ As loud as the roar o' the linn.
+
+ Then fy, let us a' to the wedding,
+ For they will be lilting there;
+ For Jock 's to be married to Maggie,
+ The lass wi' the gowden hair.
+
+
+[30] This song is a new version of "The Blythesome Bridal," beginning,
+"Fy, let us a' to the bridal," which first appeared in Watson's
+Collection, in 1706, and of which the authorship was generally assigned
+to Francis Semple of Beltrees, in Renfrewshire, who lived in the middle
+of the seventeenth century, though more recently it has been attributed
+to Sir William Scott of Thirlestane, in Selkirkshire, who flourished in
+the beginning of last century. The words of the original song are
+coarse, but humorous.
+
+
+
+
+HOOLY AND FAIRLY.[31]
+
+
+ Oh, neighbours! what had I to do for to marry?
+ My wife she drinks posset and wine o' Canary;
+ And ca's me a niggardly, thrawn-gabbit cairly.
+ O gin my wife wad drink hooly and fairly!
+ Hooly and fairly, hooly and fairly;
+ O gin my wife wad drink hooly and fairly!
+
+ She sups, wi' her kimmers, on dainties enow,
+ Aye bowing, and smirking, and wiping her mou';
+ While I sit aside, and am helpit but sparely.
+ O gin my wife wad feast hooly and fairly!
+ Hooly and fairly, hooly and fairly;
+ O gin my wife wad feast hooly and fairly!
+
+ To fairs, and to bridals, and preachings an' a',
+ She gangs sae light-headed, and buskit sae braw,
+ In ribbons and mantuas, that gar me gae barely.
+ O gin my wife wad spend hooly and fairly!
+ Hooly and fairly, hooly and fairly;
+ O gin my wife wad spend hooly and fairly!
+
+ I' the kirk sic commotion last Sabbath she made,
+ Wi' babs o' red roses, and breast-knots o'erlaid;
+ The dominie stickit the psalm very nearly.
+ O gin my wife wad dress hooly and fairly!
+ Hooly and fairly, hooly and fairly;
+ O gin my wife wad dress hooly and fairly!
+
+ She 's warring and flyting frae mornin' till e'en,
+ And if ye gainsay her, her een glower sae keen;
+ Then tongue, neive, and cudgel, she 'll lay on me sairly.
+ O gin my wife wad strike hooly and fairly!
+ Hooly and fairly, hooly and fairly;
+ O gin my wife wad strike hooly and fairly!
+
+ When tired wi' her cantrips, she lies in her bed--
+ The wark a' negleckit, the chalmer unred--
+ While a' our gude neighbours are stirring sae early.
+ O gin my wife wad wark timely and fairly!
+ Timely and fairly, timely and fairly;
+ O gin my wife wad wark timely and fairly!
+
+ A word o' gude counsel or grace she 'll hear none;
+ She bandies the elders, and mocks at Mess John;
+ While back in his teeth his own text she flings sairly.
+ O gin my wife wad speak hooly and fairly!
+ Hooly and fairly, hooly and fairly;
+ O gin my wife wad speak hooly and fairly!
+
+ I wish I were single, I wish I were freed;
+ I wish I were doited, I wish I were dead;
+ Or she in the mouls, to dement me nae mairly.
+ What does it 'vail to cry, Hooly and fairly!
+ Hooly and fairly, hooly and fairly;
+ Wasting my health to cry, Hooly and fairly.
+
+
+[31] The style of this song and the chorus are borrowed from "The
+Drucken Wife o' Gallowa'," a song which first appeared in the "Charmer,"
+a collection of songs, published at Edinburgh in 1751, but the
+authorship of which is unknown.
+
+
+
+
+THE WEARY PUND O' TOW.
+
+
+ A young gudewife is in my house,
+ And thrifty means to be,
+ But aye she 's runnin' to the town
+ Some ferlie there to see.
+ The weary pund, the weary pund, the weary pund o' tow,
+ I soothly think, ere it be spun, I 'll wear a lyart pow.
+
+ And when she sets her to her wheel,
+ To draw her threads wi' care,
+ In comes the chapman wi' his gear,
+ And she can spin nae mair.
+ The weary pund, &c.
+
+ And then like ony merry May,
+ At fairs maun still be seen,
+ At kirkyard preachings near the tent,
+ At dances on the green.
+ The weary pund, &c.
+
+ Her dainty ear a fiddle charms,
+ A bagpipe 's her delight,
+ But for the crooning o' her wheel
+ She disna care a mite.
+ The weary pund, &c.
+
+ "You spake, my Kate, of snaw-white webs
+ Made o' your hinkum twine,
+ But, ah! I fear our bonnie burn
+ Will ne'er lave web o' thine.
+ The weary pund, &c.
+
+ "Nay, smile again, my winsome mate,
+ Sic jeering means nae ill;
+ Should I gae sarkless to my grave,
+ I'll loe and bless thee still."
+ The weary pund, &c.
+
+
+
+
+THE WEE PICKLE TOW.[32]
+
+
+ A lively young lass had a wee pickle tow,
+ And she thought to try the spinnin' o't;
+ She sat by the fire, and her rock took alow,
+ And that was an ill beginnin' o't.
+ Loud and shrill was the cry that she utter'd, I ween;
+ The sudden mischanter brought tears to her een;
+ Her face it was fair, but her temper was keen;
+ O dole for the ill beginnin' o't!
+
+ She stamp'd on the floor, and her twa hands she wrung,
+ Her bonny sweet mou' she crookit, O!
+ And fell was the outbreak o' words frae her tongue;
+ Like ane sair demented she lookit, O!
+ "Foul fa' the inventor o' rock and o' reel!
+ I hope, gude forgi'e me! he 's now wi' the d--l,
+ He brought us mair trouble than help, wot I weel;
+ O dole for the ill beginnin' o't!
+
+ "And now, when they 're spinnin' and kempin' awa',
+ They 'll talk o' my rock and the burnin' o't,
+ While Tibbie, and Mysie, and Maggie, and a',
+ Into some silly joke will be turnin' it:
+ They 'll say I was doited, they 'll say I was fu';
+ They 'll say I was dowie, and Robin untrue;
+ They 'll say in the fire some luve-powther I threw,
+ And that made the ill beginning o't.
+
+ "O curst be the day, and unchancy the hour,
+ When I sat me adown to the spinnin' o't!
+ Then some evil spirit or warlock had power,
+ And made sic an ill beginnin' o't.
+ May Spunkie my feet to the boggie betray,
+ The lunzie folk steal my new kirtle away,
+ And Robin forsake me for douce Effie Gray,
+ The next time I try the spinnin' o't."
+
+
+[32] "The Wee Pickle Tow" is an old air, to which the words of this song
+were written.
+
+
+
+
+THE GOWAN GLITTERS ON THE SWARD.
+
+
+ The gowan glitters on the sward,
+ The lav'rock's in the sky,
+ And collie on my plaid keeps ward,
+ And time is passing by.
+ Oh, no! sad and slow,
+ And lengthen'd on the ground;
+ The shadow of our trysting bush
+ It wears so slowly round.
+
+ My sheep-bells tinkle frae the west,
+ My lambs are bleating near;
+ But still the sound that I lo'e best,
+ Alack! I canna hear.
+ Oh, no! sad and slow,
+ The shadow lingers still;
+ And like a lanely ghaist I stand,
+ And croon upon the hill.
+
+ I hear below the water roar,
+ The mill wi' clacking din,
+ And lucky scolding frae the door,
+ To ca' the bairnies in.
+ Oh, no! sad and slow,
+ These are nae sounds for me;
+ The shadow of our trysting bush
+ It creeps sae drearily!
+
+ I coft yestreen, frae chapman Tam,
+ A snood o' bonnie blue,
+ And promised, when our trysting cam',
+ To tie it round her brow.
+ Oh, no! sad and slow,
+ The mark it winna pass;
+ The shadow o' that dreary bush
+ Is tether'd on the grass.
+
+ O now I see her on the way!
+ She 's past the witch's knowe;
+ She 's climbing up the brownie's brae--
+ My heart is in a lowe.
+ Oh, no! 'tis not so,
+ 'Tis glamrie I hae seen;
+ The shadow o' that hawthorn bush
+ Will move nae mair till e'en.
+
+ My book o' grace I 'll try to read,
+ Though conn'd wi' little skill;
+ When collie barks I 'll raise my head,
+ And find her on the hill.
+ Oh, no! sad and slow,
+ The time will ne'er be gane;
+ The shadow o' our trysting bush
+ Is fix'd like ony stane.
+
+
+
+
+SAW YE JOHNNIE COMIN'?
+
+
+ "Saw ye Johnnie comin'?" quo' she;
+ "Saw ye Johnnie comin'?
+ Wi' his blue bonnet on his head,
+ And his doggie rinnin'.
+ Yestreen, about the gloamin' time,
+ I chanced to see him comin',
+ Whistling merrily the tune
+ That I am a' day hummin'," quo' she;
+ "I am a' day hummin'.
+
+ "Fee him, faither, fee him," quo' she;
+ "Fee him, faither, fee him;
+ A' the wark about the house
+ Gaes wi' me when I see him:
+ A' the wark about the house
+ I gang sae lightly through it;
+ And though ye pay some merks o' gear,
+ Hoot! ye winna rue it," quo' she;
+ "No; ye winna rue it."
+
+ "What wad I do wi' him, hizzy?
+ What wad I do wi' him?
+ He 's ne'er a sark upon his back,
+ And I hae nane to gi'e him."
+ "I hae twa sarks into my kist,
+ And ane o' them I 'll gi'e him;
+ And for a merk o' mair fee,
+ Oh, dinna stand wi' him," quo' she;
+ "Dinna stand wi' him.
+
+ "Weel do I lo'e him," quo' she;
+ "Weel do I lo'e him;
+ The brawest lads about the place
+ Are a' but hav'rels to him.
+ Oh, fee him, father; lang, I trow,
+ We 've dull and dowie been:
+ He 'll haud the plough, thrash i' the barn,
+ And crack wi' me at e'en," quo' she;
+ "Crack wi' me at e'en."
+
+
+
+
+IT FELL ON A MORNING.[33]
+
+
+ It fell on a morning when we were thrang--
+ Our kirn was gaun, our cheese was making,
+ And bannocks on the girdle baking--
+ That ane at the door chapp'd loud and lang;
+ But the auld gudewife, and her Mays sae tight,
+ Of this stirring and din took sma' notice, I ween;
+ For a chap at the door in braid daylight
+ Is no like a chap when heard at e'en.
+
+ Then the clocksie auld laird of the warlock glen,
+ Wha stood without, half cow'd, half cheerie.
+ And yearn'd for a sight of his winsome dearie,
+ Raised up the latch and came crousely ben.
+ His coat was new, and his owrelay was white,
+ And his hose and his mittens were coozy and bein;
+ But a wooer that comes in braid daylight
+ Is no like a wooer that comes at e'en.
+
+ He greeted the carlin' and lasses sae braw,
+ And his bare lyart pow he smoothly straikit,
+ And looked about, like a body half glaikit,
+ On bonny sweet Nanny, the youngest of a':
+ "Ha, ha!" quo' the carlin', "and look ye that way?
+ Hoot! let nae sic fancies bewilder ye clean--
+ An elderlin' man, i' the noon o' the day,
+ Should be wiser than youngsters that come at e'en."
+
+ "Na, na," quo' the pawky auld wife; "I trow
+ You 'll fash na your head wi' a youthfu' gilly,
+ As wild and as skeigh as a muirland filly;
+ Black Madge is far better and fitter for you."
+ He hem'd and he haw'd, and he screw'd in his mouth,
+ And he squeezed his blue bonnet his twa hands between;
+ For wooers that come when the sun 's in the south
+ Are mair awkward than wooers that come at e'en.
+
+ "Black Madge she is prudent." "What 's that to me?"
+ "She is eident and sober, has sense in her noddle--
+ Is douce and respeckit." "I carena a boddle;
+ I 'll baulk na my luve, and my fancy 's free."
+ Madge toss'd back her head wi' a saucy slight,
+ And Nanny run laughing out to the green;
+ For wooers that come when the sun shines bright
+ Are no like the wooers that come at e'en.
+
+ Awa' flung the laird, and loud mutter'd he,
+ "All the daughters of Eve, between Orkney and Tweed, O:
+ Black and fair, young and old, dame, damsel, and widow,
+ May gang, wi' their pride, to the wuddy for me."
+ But the auld gudewife, and her Mays sae tight,
+ For a' his loud banning cared little, I ween;
+ For a wooer that comes in braid daylight
+ Is no like a wooer that comes at e'en.
+
+
+[33] This song was contributed by Miss Baillie to "The Harp of
+Caledonia."
+
+
+
+
+WOO'D, AND MARRIED, AND A'.[34]
+
+
+ The bride she is winsome and bonnie,
+ Her hair it is snooded sae sleek;
+ And faithful and kind is her Johnnie,
+ Yet fast fa' the tears on her cheek.
+ New pearlings are cause o' her sorrow--
+ New pearlings and plenishing too;
+ The bride that has a' to borrow
+ Has e'en right muckle ado.
+ Woo'd, and married, and a';
+ Woo'd, and married, and a';
+ And is na she very weel aff,
+ To be woo'd, and married, and a'?
+
+ Her mither then hastily spak--
+ "The lassie is glaikit wi' pride;
+ In my pouches I hadna a plack
+ The day that I was a bride.
+ E'en tak to your wheel and be clever,
+ And draw out your thread in the sun;
+ The gear that is gifted, it never
+ Will last like the gear that is won.
+ Woo'd, and married, an' a',
+ Tocher and havings sae sma';
+ I think ye are very weel aff
+ To be woo'd, and married, and a'."
+
+ "Toot, toot!" quo' the gray-headed faither;
+ "She 's less of a bride than a bairn;
+ She 's ta'en like a cowt frae the heather,
+ Wi' sense and discretion to learn.
+ Half husband, I trow, and half daddy,
+ As humour inconstantly leans;
+ A chiel maun be constant and steady,
+ That yokes wi' a mate in her teens.
+ Kerchief to cover so neat,
+ Locks the winds used to blaw;
+ I 'm baith like to laugh and to greet,
+ When I think o' her married at a'."
+
+ Then out spak the wily bridegroom,
+ Weel waled were his wordies, I ween,--
+ "I 'm rich, though my coffer be toom,
+ Wi' the blinks o' your bonnie blue een;
+ I 'm prouder o' thee by my side,
+ Though thy ruffles or ribbons be few,
+ Than if Kate o' the Craft were my bride,
+ Wi' purples and pearlings enew.
+ Dear and dearest of ony,
+ I 've woo'd, and bookit, and a';
+ And do you think scorn o' your Johnnie,
+ And grieve to be married at a'?"
+
+ She turn'd, and she blush'd, and she smiled,
+ And she lookit sae bashfully down;
+ The pride o' her heart was beguiled,
+ And she play'd wi' the sleeve o' her gown;
+ She twirl'd the tag o' her lace,
+ And she nippit her boddice sae blue;
+ Syne blinkit sae sweet in his face,
+ And aff like a maukin she flew.
+ Woo'd, and married, and a',
+ Married and carried awa';
+ She thinks hersel' very weel aff,
+ To be woo'd, and married, and a'.
+
+
+[34] Of the song, "Woo'd, and married, and a'," there is another
+version, published in Johnson's "Musical Museum," vol. i. p. 10, which
+was long popular among the ballad-singers. This was composed by
+Alexander Ross, schoolmaster of Lochlee, author of "Helenore, or the
+Fortunate Shepherdess." A song, having a similar commencement, had
+previously been current on the Border.
+
+
+
+
+WILLIAM DUDGEON.
+
+
+Though the author of a single popular song, William Dudgeon is entitled
+to a place among the modern contributors to the Caledonian minstrelsy.
+Of his personal history, only a very few facts have been recovered. He
+was the son of a farmer in East-Lothian, and himself rented an extensive
+farm at Preston, in Berwickshire. During his border tour in May 1787,
+the poet Burns met him at Berrywell, the residence of the father of his
+friend Mr Robert Ainslie, who acted as land-steward on the estate of
+Lord Douglas in the Merse. In his journal, Burns has thus recorded his
+impression of the meeting:--"A Mr Dudgeon, a poet at times, a worthy,
+remarkable character, natural penetration, a great deal of information,
+some genius, and extreme modesty." Dudgeon died in October 1813, about
+his sixtieth year.
+
+
+
+
+UP AMONG YON CLIFFY ROCKS.
+
+
+ Up among yon cliffy rocks
+ Sweetly rings the rising echo,
+ To the maid that tends the goats
+ Lilting o'er her native notes.
+ Hark, she sings, "Young Sandy 's kind,
+ An' he 's promised aye to lo'e me;
+ Here 's a brooch I ne'er shall tine,
+ Till he 's fairly married to me.
+ Drive away, ye drone, Time,
+ And bring about our bridal day.
+
+ "Sandy herds a flock o' sheep;
+ Aften does he blaw the whistle
+ In a strain sae saftly sweet,
+ Lammies list'ning daurna bleat.
+ He 's as fleet 's the mountain roe,
+ Hardy as the Highland heather,
+ Wading through the winter snow,
+ Keeping aye his flock together;
+ But a plaid, wi' bare houghs,
+ He braves the bleakest norlan' blast.
+
+ "Brawly can he dance and sing,
+ Canty glee or Highland cronach;
+ Nane can ever match his fling,
+ At a reel or round a ring,
+ In a brawl he 's aye the bangster:
+ A' his praise can ne'er be sung
+ By the langest-winded sangster;
+ Sangs that sing o' Sandy,
+ Seem short, though they were e'er sae lang."
+
+
+
+
+WILLIAM REID.
+
+
+William Reid was born at Glasgow on the 10th of April 1764. His father,
+a baker by trade, was enabled to give him a good education at the school
+of his native city. At an early age he was apprenticed to Messrs Dunlop
+and Wilson, booksellers; and in the year 1790, along with another
+enterprising individual, he commenced a bookselling establishment, under
+the firm of "Brash and Reid." In this business, both partners became
+eminently successful, their shop being frequented by the _literati_ of
+the West. The poet Burns cultivated the society of Mr Reid, who proved a
+warm friend, as he was an ardent admirer, of the Ayrshire bard. He was
+an enthusiastic patron of literature, was fond of social humour, and a
+zealous promoter of the interests of Scottish song. Between 1795 and
+1798, the firm published in numbers, at one penny each, "Poetry,
+Original and Selected," which extended to four volumes. To this
+publication, both Mr Reid, and his partner, Mr Brash, made some original
+contributions. The work is now very scarce, and is accounted valuable by
+collectors. Mr Reid died at Glasgow, on the 29th of November 1831,
+leaving a widow and a family.
+
+
+
+
+THE LEA RIG.[35]
+
+
+ Will ye gang o'er the lea rig,
+ My ain kind dearie, O!
+ And cuddle there fu' kindly
+ Wi' me, my kind dearie, O!
+ At thorny bush, or birken tree,
+ We 'll daff and never weary, O!
+ They 'll scug ill een frae you and me,
+ My ain kind dearie, O!
+
+ Nae herds wi' kent or colly there,
+ Shall ever come to fear ye, O!
+ But lav'rocks, whistling in the air,
+ Shall woo, like me, their dearie, O!
+ While ithers herd their lambs and ewes,
+ And toil for warld's gear, my jo,
+ Upon the lea my pleasure grows,
+ Wi' thee, my kind dearie, O!
+
+ At gloamin', if my lane I be,
+ Oh, but I'm wondrous eerie, O!
+ And mony a heavy sigh I gie,
+ When absent frae my dearie, O!
+ But seated 'neath the milk-white thorn,
+ In ev'ning fair and clearie, O!
+ Enraptured, a' my cares I scorn,
+ When wi' my kind dearie, O!
+
+ Whare through the birks the burnie rows,
+ Aft hae I sat fu' cheerie, O!
+ Upon the bonny greensward howes,
+ Wi' thee, my kind dearie, O!
+ I've courted till I've heard the craw
+ Of honest chanticleerie, O!
+ Yet never miss'd my sleep ava,
+ Whan wi' my kind dearie, O!
+
+ For though the night were ne'er sae dark,
+ And I were ne'er sae weary, O!
+ I'd meet thee on the lea rig,
+ My ain kind dearie, O!
+ While in this weary world of wae,
+ This wilderness sae dreary, O!
+ What makes me blythe, and keeps me sae?
+ 'Tis thee, my kind dearie, O!
+
+
+[35] The two first stanzas of this song are the composition of the
+gifted and unfortunate Robert Fergusson. It is founded on an older
+ditty, beginning, "I'll rowe thee o'er the lea-rig." See Johnson's
+"Musical Museum," vol. iv. p. 53.
+
+
+
+
+JOHN ANDERSON, MY JO.[36]
+
+
+ John Anderson, my jo, John,
+ I wonder what ye mean,
+ To rise sae early in the morn,
+ And sit sae late at e'en;
+ Ye 'll blear out a' your een, John,
+ And why should you do so?
+ Gang sooner to your bed at e'en,
+ John Anderson, my jo.
+
+ John Anderson, my jo, John,
+ When Nature first began
+ To try her canny hand, John,
+ Her masterpiece was man;
+ And you amang them a', John,
+ Sae trig frae tap to toe--
+ She proved to be nae journeyman,
+ John Anderson, my jo.
+
+ John Anderson, my jo, John,
+ Ye were my first conceit;
+ And ye needna think it strange, John,
+ That I ca' ye trim and neat;
+ Though some folks say ye 're auld, John,
+ I never think ye so;
+ But I think ye 're aye the same to me,
+ John Anderson, my jo.
+
+ John Anderson, my jo, John,
+ We 've seen our bairns' bairns;
+ And yet, my dear John Anderson,
+ I 'm happy in your arms;
+ And sae are ye in mine, John,
+ I 'm sure ye 'll ne'er say, No;
+ Though the days are gane that we have seen,
+ John Anderson, my jo.
+
+
+[36] These stanzas are in continuation of Burns's song, "John Anderson,
+my jo." Five other stanzas have been added to the continuation by some
+unknown hand, which will be found in the "Book of Scottish Song," p. 54.
+Glasgow, 1853.
+
+
+
+
+FAIR, MODEST FLOWER.
+
+TUNE--_"Ye Banks and Braes o' bonnie Doon."_
+
+
+ Fair, modest flower, of matchless worth!
+ Thou sweet, enticing, bonny gem;
+ Blest is the soil that gave thee birth,
+ And bless'd thine honour'd parent stem.
+ But doubly bless'd shall be the youth
+ To whom thy heaving bosom warms;
+ Possess'd of beauty, love, and truth,
+ He 'll clasp an angel in his arms.
+
+ Though storms of life were blowing snell,
+ And on his brow sat brooding care,
+ Thy seraph smile would quick dispel
+ The darkest gloom of black despair.
+ Sure Heaven hath granted thee to us,
+ And chose thee from the dwellers there;
+ And sent thee from celestial bliss,
+ To shew what all the virtues are.
+
+
+
+
+KATE O' GOWRIE.[37]
+
+TUNE--_"Locherroch Side."_
+
+
+ When Katie was scarce out nineteen,
+ Oh, but she had twa coal-black een!
+ A bonnier lass ye wadna seen
+ In a' the Carse o' Gowrie.
+ Quite tired o' livin' a' his lane,
+ Pate did to her his love explain,
+ And swore he 'd be, were she his ain,
+ The happiest lad in Gowrie.
+
+ Quo' she, "I winna marry thee,
+ For a' the gear that ye can gi'e;
+ Nor will I gang a step ajee,
+ For a' the gowd in Gowrie.
+ My father will gi'e me twa kye;
+ My mother 's gaun some yarn to dye;
+ I 'll get a gown just like the sky,
+ Gif I 'll no gang to Gowrie."
+
+ "Oh, my dear Katie, say nae sae!
+ Ye little ken a heart that 's wae;
+ Hae! there 's my hand; hear me, I pray,
+ Sin' thou 'lt no gang to Gowrie:
+ Since first I met thee at the shiel,
+ My saul to thee 's been true and leal;
+ The darkest night I fear nae deil,
+ Warlock, or witch in Gowrie.
+
+ "I fear nae want o' claes nor nocht,
+ Sic silly things my mind ne'er taught;
+ I dream a' nicht, and start about,
+ And wish for thee in Gowrie.
+ I lo'e thee better, Kate, my dear,
+ Than a' my rigs and out-gaun gear;
+ Sit down by me till ance I swear,
+ Thou 'rt worth the Carse o' Gowrie."
+
+ Syne on her mou' sweet kisses laid,
+ Till blushes a' her cheeks o'erspread;
+ She sigh'd, and in soft whispers said,
+ "Oh, Pate, tak me to Gowrie!"
+ Quo' he, "Let 's to the auld folk gang;
+ Say what they like, I 'll bide their bang,
+ And bide a' nicht, though beds be thrang;
+ But I 'll hae thee to Gowrie."
+
+ The auld folk syne baith gi'ed consent;
+ The priest was ca'd: a' were content;
+ And Katie never did repent
+ That she gaed hame to Gowrie.
+ For routh o' bonnie bairns had she;
+ Mair strappin' lads ye wadna see;
+ And her braw lasses bore the gree
+ Frae a' the rest o' Gowrie.
+
+
+[37] See _postea_, in this volume, under article "Lady Nairn."
+
+
+
+
+UPON THE BANKS O' FLOWING CLYDE.[38]
+
+
+ Upon the banks o' flowing Clyde
+ The lasses busk them braw;
+ But when their best they hae put on,
+ My Jeanie dings them a';
+ In hamely weeds she far exceeds
+ The fairest o' the toun;
+ Baith sage and gay confess it sae,
+ Though drest in russit goun.
+
+ The gamesome lamb that sucks its dam,
+ Mair harmless canna be;
+ She has nae faut, if sic ye ca't,
+ Except her love for me;
+ The sparkling dew, o' clearest hue,
+ Is like her shining een;
+ In shape and air wha can compare,
+ Wi' my sweet lovely Jean.
+
+
+[38] These two stanzas were written as a continuation of Burns's popular
+song, "Of a' the airts the wind can blaw." Two other stanzas were added
+by John Hamilton. See _ante_, p. 124.
+
+
+
+
+ALEXANDER CAMPBELL.
+
+
+A miscellaneous writer, a poet, and a musical composer, Alexander
+Campbell first saw the light at Tombea, on the banks of Loch Lubnaig, in
+Perthshire. He was born in 1764, and received such education as his
+parents could afford him, which was not very ample, at the parish school
+of Callander. An early taste for music induced him to proceed to
+Edinburgh, there to cultivate a systematic acquaintance with the art.
+Acquiring a knowledge of the science under the celebrated Tenducci and
+others, he became himself a teacher of the harpsichord and of vocal
+music, in the metropolis. As an upholder of Jacobitism, when it was
+scarcely to be dreaded as a political offence, he officiated as organist
+in a non-juring chapel in the vicinity of Nicolson Street; and while so
+employed had the good fortune to form the acquaintance of Burns, who was
+pleased to discover in an individual entertaining similar state
+sentiments with himself, an enthusiastic devotion to national melody and
+song.
+
+Mr Campbell was twice married; his second wife was the widow of a
+Highland gentleman, and he was induced to hope that his condition might
+thus be permanently improved. He therefore relinquished his original
+vocation, and commenced the study of physic, with the view of obtaining
+an appointment as surgeon in the public service; but his sanguine hopes
+proved abortive, and, to complete his mortification, his wife left him
+in Edinburgh, and sought a retreat in the Highlands. He again procured
+some employment as a teacher of music; and about the year 1810, one of
+his expedients was to give lessons in drawing. He was a man of a fervent
+spirit, and possessed of talents, which, if they had been adequately
+cultivated, and more concentrated, might have enabled him to attain
+considerable distinction; but, apparently aiming at the reputation of
+universal genius, he alternately cultivated the study of music, poetry,
+painting, and physic. At a more recent period, Sir Walter Scott found
+him occasional employment in transcribing manuscripts; and during the
+unhappy remainder of his life he had to struggle with many difficulties.
+
+One of his publications bears the title of "Odes and Miscellaneous
+Poems, by a Student of Medicine in the University of Edinburgh,"
+Edinburgh, 1790, 4to. These lucubrations, which attracted no share of
+public attention, were followed by "The Guinea Note, a Poem, by Timothy
+Twig, Esquire," Edinburgh, 1797, 4to. His next work is entitled, "An
+Introduction to the History of Poetry in Scotland, with Illustrations by
+David Allan," Edinburgh, 1798, 4to. This work, though written in a
+rambling style, contains a small proportion of useful materials very
+unskilfully digested. "A Dialogue on Scottish Music," prefixed, had the
+merit of conveying to Continental musicians for the first time a correct
+acquaintance with the Scottish scale, the author receiving the
+commendations of the greatest Italian and German composers. The work
+likewise contains "Songs of the Lowlands," a selection of some of the
+more interesting specimens of the older minstrelsy. In 1802 he published
+"A Tour from Edinburgh through various parts of North Britain," in two
+volumes quarto, illustrated with engravings from sketches executed by
+himself. This work met with a favourable reception, and has been
+regarded as the most successful of his literary efforts. In 1804 he
+sought distinction as a poet by giving to the world "The Grampians
+Desolate," a long poem, in one volume octavo. In this production he
+essays "to call the attention of good men, wherever dispersed throughout
+our island, to the manifold and great evils arising from the
+introduction of that system which has within these last forty years
+spread among the Grampians and Western Isles, and is the leading cause
+of a depopulation that threatens to extirpate the ancient race of the
+inhabitants of those districts." That system to which Mr Campbell
+refers, he afterwards explains to be the monopoly of sheep-stores, a
+subject scarcely poetical, but which he has contrived to clothe with
+considerable smoothness of versification. The last work which issued
+from Mr Campbell's pen was "Albyn's Anthology, a Select Collection of
+the Melodies and Vocal Poetry Peculiar to Scotland and the Isles,
+hitherto Unpublished." The publication appeared in 1816, in two parts,
+of elegant folio. It was adorned by the contributions of Sir Walter
+Scott, James Hogg, and other poets of reputation. The preface contains
+"An Epitome of the History of Scottish Poetry and Music from the
+Earliest Times." His musical talents have a stronger claim to
+remembrance than either his powers as a poet or his skill as a writer.
+Yet his industry was unremitted, and his researches have proved
+serviceable to other writers who have followed him on the same themes.
+Only a few lyrical pieces proceeded from his pen; these were first
+published in "Albyn's Anthology." From this work we have extracted two
+specimens.
+
+Mr Campbell died of apoplexy on the 15th of May 1824, after a life much
+chequered by misfortune. He left various MSS. on subjects connected with
+his favourite studies, which have fortunately found their way into the
+possession of Mr Laing, to whom the history of Scottish poetry is
+perhaps more indebted than to any other living writer. The poems in this
+collection, though bearing marks of sufficient elaboration, could not be
+recommended for publication. Mr Campbell was understood to be a
+contributor to _The Ghost_, a forgotten periodical, which ran a short
+career in the year 1790. It was published in Edinburgh twice a week, and
+reached the forty-sixth number; the first having appeared on the 25th of
+April, the last on the 16th of November. He published an edition of a
+book, curious in its way--Donald Mackintosh's "Collection of Gaelic
+Proverbs, and Familiar Phrases; Englished anew!" Edinburgh, 1819, 12mo.
+The preface contains a characteristic account of the compiler, who
+described himself as "a priest of the old Scots Episcopal Church, and
+last of the non-jurant clergy in Scotland."
+
+
+
+
+NOW WINTER'S WIND SWEEPS.
+
+
+ Now winter's wind sweeps o'er the mountains,
+ Deeply clad in drifting snow;
+ Soundly sleep the frozen fountains;
+ Ice-bound streams forget to flow:
+ The piercing blast howls loud and long,
+ The leafless forest oaks among.
+
+ Down the glen, lo! comes a stranger,
+ Wayworn, drooping, all alone;--
+ Haply, 'tis the deer-haunt Ranger!
+ But alas! his strength is gone!
+ He stoops, he totters on with pain,
+ The hill he 'll never climb again.
+
+ Age is being's winter season,
+ Fitful, gloomy, piercing cold;
+ Passion weaken'd, yields to reason,
+ Man feels _then_ himself grown old;
+ His senses one by one have fled,
+ His very soul seems almost dead.
+
+
+
+
+THE HAWK WHOOPS ON HIGH.
+
+
+ The hawk whoops on high, and keen, keen from yon' cliff,
+ Lo! the eagle on watch eyes the stag cold and stiff;
+ The deer-hound, majestic, looks lofty around,
+ While he lists with delight to the harp's distant sound;
+ Is it swept by the gale, as it slow wafts along
+ The heart-soothing tones of an olden times' song?
+ Or is it some Druid who touches, unseen,
+ "The Harp of the North," newly strung now I ween?
+
+ 'Tis Albyn's own minstrel! and, proud of his name,
+ He proclaims him chief bard, and immortal his fame!--
+ He gives tongue to those wild lilts that ravish'd of old,
+ And soul to the tales that so oft have been told;
+ Hence Walter the Minstrel shall flourish for aye,
+ Will breathe in sweet airs, and live long as his "Lay;"
+ To ages unnumber'd thus yielding delight,
+ Which will last till the gloaming of Time's endless night.
+
+
+
+
+MRS DUGALD STEWART.
+
+
+Helen D'Arcy Cranstoun, the second wife of the celebrated Professor
+Stewart, is entitled to a more ample notice in a work on Modern Scottish
+Song than the limited materials at our command enable us to supply. She
+was the third daughter of the Hon. George Cranstoun, youngest son of
+William, fifth Lord Cranstoun. She was born in the year 1765, and became
+the wife of Professor Dugald Stewart on the 26th July 1790. Having
+survived her husband ten years, she died at Warriston House, in the
+neighbourhood of Edinburgh, on the 28th of July 1838. She was the sister
+of the Countess Purgstall (the subject of Captain Basil Hall's "Schloss
+Hainfeld"), and of George Cranstoun, a senator of the College of
+Justice, by the title of Lord Corehouse.
+
+The following pieces from the pen of the accomplished author are replete
+with simple beauty and exquisite tenderness.
+
+
+
+
+THE TEARS I SHED MUST EVER FALL.
+
+TUNE--_"Ianthe the Lovely."_
+
+
+ The tears I shed must ever fall:
+ I mourn not for an absent swain;
+ For thoughts may past delights recall,
+ And parted lovers meet again.
+ I weep not for the silent dead:
+ Their toils are past, their sorrows o'er;
+ And those they loved their steps shall tread,
+ And death shall join to part no more.
+
+ Though boundless oceans roll'd between,
+ If certain that his heart is near,
+ A conscious transport glads each scene,
+ Soft is the sigh and sweet the tear.
+ E'en when by death's cold hand removed,
+ We mourn the tenant of the tomb,
+ To think that e'en in death he loved,
+ Can gild the horrors of the gloom.
+
+ But bitter, bitter are the tears
+ Of her who slighted love bewails;
+ No hope her dreary prospect cheers,
+ No pleasing melancholy hails.
+ Hers are the pangs of wounded pride,
+ Of blasted hope, of wither'd joy;
+ The flattering veil is rent aside,
+ The flame of love burns to destroy.
+
+ In vain does memory renew
+ The hours once tinged in transport's dye;
+ The sad reverse soon starts to view,
+ And turns the past to agony.
+ E'en time itself despairs to cure
+ Those pangs to every feeling due:
+ Ungenerous youth! thy boast how poor,
+ To win a heart, and break it too!
+
+ No cold approach, no alter'd mien,
+ Just what would make suspicion start;
+ No pause the dire extremes between--
+ He made me blest, and broke my heart:[39]
+ From hope, the wretched's anchor, torn,
+ Neglected and neglecting all;
+ Friendless, forsaken, and forlorn,
+ The tears I shed must ever fall.
+
+
+[39] The four first lines of the last stanza are by Burns.
+
+
+
+
+RETURNING SPRING, WITH GLADSOME RAY.[40]
+
+
+ Returning spring, with gladsome ray,
+ Adorns the earth and smoothes the deep:
+ All nature smiles, serene and gay,
+ It smiles, and yet, alas! I weep.
+
+ But why, why flows the sudden tear,
+ Since Heaven such precious boons has lent,
+ The lives of those who life endear,
+ And, though scarce competence, content?
+
+ Sure, when no other bliss was mine
+ Than that which still kind Heaven bestows,
+ Yet then could peace and hope combine
+ To promise joy and give repose.
+
+ Then have I wander'd o'er the plain,
+ And bless'd each flower that met my view;
+ Thought Fancy's power would ever reign,
+ And Nature's charms be ever new.
+
+ I fondly thought where Virtue dwelt,
+ That happy bosom knew no ill--
+ That those who scorn'd me, time would melt,
+ And those I loved be faultless still.
+
+ Enchanting dreams! kind was your art
+ That bliss bestow'd without alloy;
+ Or if soft sadness claim'd a part,
+ 'Twas sadness sweeter still than joy.
+
+ Oh! whence the change that now alarms,
+ Fills this sad heart and tearful eye,
+ And conquers the once powerful charms
+ Of youth, of hope, of novelty?
+
+ 'Tis sad Experience, fatal power!
+ That clouds the once illumined sky,
+ That darkens life's meridian hour,
+ And bids each fairy vision fly.
+
+ She paints the scene--how different far
+ From that which youthful fancy drew!
+ Shews joy and freedom oft at war,
+ Our woes increased, our comforts few.
+
+ And when, perhaps, on some loved friend
+ Our treasured fondness we bestow,
+ Oh! can she not, with ruthless hand,
+ Change even that friend into a foe?
+
+ See in her train cold Foresight move,
+ Shunning the rose to 'scape the thorn;
+ And Prudence every fear approve,
+ And Pity harden into scorn!
+
+ The glowing tints of Fancy fade,
+ Life's distant prospects charm no more;
+ Alas! are all my hopes betray'd?
+ Can nought my happiness restore?
+
+ Relentless power! at length be just,
+ Thy better skill alone impart;
+ Give Caution, but withhold Distrust,
+ And guard, but harden not, my heart!
+
+
+[40] These tender and beautiful verses are transcribed from Johnson's
+"Musical Museum," in a note to which they were first published by the
+editor, Mr David Laing. He remarks that he "has reason to believe" that
+they are from the pen of Mrs Stewart. (See Johnson's "Musical Museum,"
+vol. iv. p. 366, _new edition_. Edinburgh, 1853.)
+
+
+
+
+ALEXANDER WILSON.
+
+
+The author of the celebrated "American Ornithology" is entitled to an
+honourable commemoration as one of the minstrels of his native land.
+Alexander Wilson was born at Paisley on the 6th of July 1766. His father
+had for some time carried on a small trade as a distiller; but the son
+was destined by his parents for the clerical profession, in the National
+Church--a scheme which was frustrated by the death of his mother in his
+tenth year, leaving a large family of children to the sole care of his
+father. He had, however, considerably profited by the instruction
+already received at school; and having derived from his mother a taste
+for music and a relish for books, he invoked the muse in solitude, and
+improved his mind by miscellaneous reading. His father contracted a
+second marriage when Alexander had reached his thirteenth year; and it
+became necessary that he should prepare himself for entering upon some
+handicraft employment. He became an apprentice to his brother-in-law,
+William Duncan, a weaver in his native town; and on completing his
+indenture, he wrought as a journeyman, during the three following years,
+in the towns of Paisley, Lochwinnoch, and Queensferry. But the
+occupation of weaving, which had from the first been unsuitable to his
+tastes, growing altogether irksome, he determined to relinquish it for a
+vocation which, if in some respects scarcely more desirable, afforded
+him ample means of gratifying his natural desire of becoming familiar
+with the topography of his native country. He provided himself with a
+pack, as a pedlar, and in this capacity, in company with his
+brother-in-law, continued for three years to lead a wandering life. His
+devotedness to verse-making had continued unabated from boyhood; he had
+written verses at the loom, and had become an enthusiastic votary of the
+muse during his peregrinations with his pack. He was now in his
+twenty-third year; and with the buoyancy of ardent youth, he thought of
+offering to the public a volume of his poems by subscription. In this
+attempt he was not successful; nor would any bookseller listen to
+proposals of publishing the lucubrations of an obscure pedlar. In 1790,
+he at length contrived to print his poems at Paisley, on his own
+account, in the hope of being able to dispose of them along with his
+other wares. But this attempt was not more successful than his original
+scheme, so that he was compelled to return to his father's house at
+Lochwinnoch, and resume the obnoxious shuttle. His aspirations for
+poetical distinction were not, however, subdued; he heard of the
+institution of the _Forum_, a debating society established in Edinburgh
+by some literary aspirants, and learning, in 1791, that an early subject
+of discussion was the comparative merits of Ramsay and Fergusson as
+Scottish poets, he prepared to take a share in the competition. By
+doubling his hours of labour at the loom, he procured the means of
+defraying his travelling expenses; and, arriving in time for the debate
+in the _Forum_, he repeated a poem which he had prepared, entitled the
+"Laurel Disputed," in which he gave the preference to Fergusson. He
+remained several weeks in Edinburgh, and printed his poem. To Dr
+Anderson's "Bee" he contributed several poems, and a prose essay,
+entitled "The Solitary Philosopher." Finding no encouragement to settle
+in the metropolis, he once more returned to his father's house in the
+west. He now formed the acquaintance of Robert Burns, who testified his
+esteem for him both as a man and a poet. In 1792, he published
+anonymously his popular ballad of "Watty and Meg," which he had the
+satisfaction to find regarded as worthy of the Ayrshire Bard.
+
+The star of the poet was now promising to be in the ascendant, but an
+untoward event ensued. In the ardent enthusiasm of his temperament, he
+was induced to espouse in verse the cause of the Paisley hand-loom
+operatives in a dispute with their employers, and to satirise in strong
+invective a person of irreproachable reputation. For this offence he was
+prosecuted before the sheriff, who sentenced him to be imprisoned for a
+few days, and publicly to burn his own poem in the front of the jail.
+This satire is entitled "The Shark; or, Long Mills detected." Like many
+other independents, he mistook anarchy in France for the dawn of liberty
+in Europe; and his sentiments becoming known, he was so vigilantly
+watched by the authorities, that he found it was no longer expedient for
+him to reside in Scotland. He resolved to emigrate to America; and,
+contriving by four months' extra labour, and living on a shilling
+weekly, to earn his passage-money, he sailed from Portpatrick to
+Belfast, and from thence to Newcastle, in the State of Delaware, where
+he arrived on the 14th July 1794. During the voyage he had slept on
+deck, and when he landed, his finances consisted only of a few
+shillings; yet, with a cheerful heart, he walked to Philadelphia, a
+distance of thirty-three miles, with only his fowling-piece on his
+shoulder. He shot a red-headed woodpecker by the way,--an omen of his
+future pursuits, for hitherto he had devoted no attention to the study
+of ornithology.
+
+He was first employed by a copperplate-printer in Philadelphia, but
+quitted this occupation for the loom, at which he worked about a year in
+Philadelphia, and at Shepherdstown, in Virginia. In 1795, he traversed a
+large portion of the State of New Jersey as a pedlar, keeping a
+journal,--a practice which he had followed during his wandering life in
+Scotland. He now adopted the profession of a schoolmaster, and was
+successively employed in this vocation at Frankford, in Pennsylvania, at
+Milestown, and at Bloomfield, in New Jersey. In preparing himself for
+the instruction of others, he essentially extended his own acquaintance
+with classical learning, and mathematical science; and by occasional
+employment as a land-surveyor, he somewhat improved his finances. In
+1801, he accepted the appointment of teacher in a seminary in
+Kingsessing, on the river Schuylkill, about four miles from
+Philadelphia,--a situation which, though attended with limited
+emolument, proved the first step in his path to eminence. He was within
+a short distance of the residence of William Bartram, the great American
+naturalist, with whom he became intimately acquainted; he also formed
+the friendship of Alexander Lawson, an emigrant engraver, who initiated
+him in the art of etching, colouring, and engraving. Discovering an
+aptitude in the accurate delineation of birds, he was led to the study
+of ornithology; with which he became so much interested, that he
+projected a work descriptive, with drawings, of all the birds of the
+Middle States, and even of the Union. About this period he became a
+contributor to the "Literary Magazine," conducted by Mr Brockden Brown,
+and to Denny's "Portfolio."
+
+Along with a nephew and another friend, Wilson made a pedestrian tour to
+the Falls of Niagara, in October 1804, and on his return published in
+the "Portfolio" a poetical narrative of his journey, entitled "The
+Foresters,"--a production surpassing his previous efforts, and
+containing some sublime apostrophes. But his energies were now chiefly
+devoted to the accomplishment of the grand design he had contemplated.
+Disappointed in obtaining the co-operation of his friend Mr Lawson, who
+was alarmed at the extent of his projected adventure, and likewise
+frustrated in obtaining pecuniary assistance from the President
+Jefferson, on which he had some reason to calculate, he persevered in
+his attempts himself, drawing, etching, and colouring the requisite
+illustrations. In 1806, he was employed as assistant-editor of a new
+edition of Rees' Cyclopedia, by Mr Samuel Bradford, bookseller in
+Philadelphia, who rewarded his services with a liberal salary, and
+undertook, at his own risk, the publication of his "Ornithology." The
+first volume of the work appeared in September 1808, and immediately
+after its publication the author personally visited, in the course of
+two different expeditions, the Eastern and Southern States, in quest of
+subscribers. These journeys were attended with a success scarcely
+adequate to the privations which were experienced in their prosecution;
+but the "Ornithology" otherwise obtained a wide circulation, and,
+excelling in point of illustration every production that had yet
+appeared in America, gained for the author universal commendation. In
+January 1810, his second volume appeared, and in a month after he
+proceeded to Pittsburg, and from thence, in a small skiff, made a
+solitary voyage down the Ohio, a distance of nearly six hundred miles.
+During this lonely and venturous journey he experienced relaxation in
+the composition of a poem, which afterwards appeared under the title of
+"The Pilgrim." In 1813, after encountering numerous hardships and
+perils, which an enthusiast only could have endured, he completed the
+publication of the seventh volume of his great work. But the sedulous
+attention requisite in the preparation of the plates of the eighth
+volume, and the effect of a severe cold, caught in rashly throwing
+himself into a river to swim in pursuit of a rare bird, brought on him a
+fatal dysentery, which carried him off, on the 23d of August 1813, in
+his forty-eighth year. He was interred in the cemetery of the Swedish
+church, Southwark, Philadelphia, where a plain marble monument has been
+erected to his memory. A ninth volume was added to the "Ornithology" by
+Mr George Ord, an intimate friend of the deceased naturalist; and three
+supplementary volumes have been published, in folio, by Charles Lucien
+Bonaparte, uncle of the present Emperor of the French.
+
+Amidst his extraordinary deserts as a naturalist, the merits of
+Alexander Wilson as a poet have been somewhat overlooked. His poetry, it
+may be remarked, though unambitious of ornament, is bold and vigorous in
+style, and, when devoted to satire, is keen and vehement. The ballad of
+"Watty and Meg," though exception may be taken to the moral, is an
+admirable picture of human nature, and one of the most graphic
+narratives of the "taming of a shrew" in the language. Allan Cunningham
+writes: "It has been excelled by none in lively, graphic fidelity of
+touch: whatever was present to his eye and manifest to his ear, he
+could paint with a life and a humour which Burns seems alone to
+excel."[41] In private life, Wilson was a model of benevolence and of
+the social virtues; he was devoid of selfishness, active in beneficence,
+and incapable of resentment. Before his departure for America, he waited
+on every one whom he conceived he had offended by his juvenile
+escapades, and begged their forgiveness; and he did not hesitate to
+reprove Burns for the levity too apparent in some of his poems. To his
+aged father, who survived till the year 1816, he sent remittances of
+money as often as he could afford; and at much inconvenience and
+pecuniary sacrifice, he established the family of his brother-in-law on
+a farm in the States. He was sober even to abstinence; and was guided in
+all his transactions by correct Christian principles. In person, he was
+remarkably handsome; his countenance was intelligent, and his eye
+sparkling. He never attained riches, but few Scotsmen have left more
+splendid memorials of their indomitable perseverance.[42] FOOTNOTES:
+
+[41] The "Songs of Scotland," by Allan Cunningham, vol. i. p. 247.
+
+[42] The most complete collection of his poems appeared in a volume
+published under the following title:--"The Poetical Works of Alexander
+Wilson; also, his Miscellaneous Prose Writings, Journals, Letters,
+Essays, &c., now first Collected: Illustrated by Critical and
+Explanatory Notes, with an extended Memoir of his Life and Writings, and
+a Glossary." Belfast, 1844, 18vo. A portrait of the author is prefixed.
+
+
+
+
+CONNEL AND FLORA.
+
+
+ Dark lowers the night o'er the wide stormy main,
+ Till mild rosy morning rise cheerful again;
+ Alas! morn returns to revisit the shore,
+ But Connel returns to his Flora no more.
+
+ For see, on yon mountain, the dark cloud of death,
+ O'er Connel's lone cottage, lies low on the heath;
+ While bloody and pale, on a far distant shore,
+ He lies, to return to his Flora no more.
+
+ Ye light fleeting spirits, that glide o'er the steep,
+ Oh, would ye but waft me across the wild deep!
+ There fearless I'd mix in the battle's loud roar,
+ I'd die with my Connel, and leave him no more.
+
+
+
+
+MATILDA.
+
+
+ Ye dark rugged rocks, that recline o'er the deep,
+ Ye breezes, that sigh o'er the main,
+ Here shelter me under your cliffs while I weep,
+ And cease while ye hear me complain.
+
+ For distant, alas! from my dear native shore,
+ And far from each friend now I be;
+ And wide is the merciless ocean that roars
+ Between my Matilda and me.
+
+ How blest were the times when together we stray'd,
+ While Phoebe shone silent above,
+ Or lean'd by the border of Cartha's green side,
+ And talk'd the whole evening of love!
+
+ Around us all nature lay wrapt up in peace,
+ Nor noise could our pleasures annoy,
+ Save Cartha's hoarse brawling, convey'd by the breeze,
+ That soothed us to love and to joy.
+
+ If haply some youth had his passion express'd,
+ And praised the bright charms of her face,
+ What horrors unceasing revolved though my breast,
+ While, sighing, I stole from the place!
+
+ For where is the eye that could view her alone,
+ The ear that could list to her strain,
+ Nor wish the adorable nymph for his own,
+ Nor double the pangs I sustain?
+
+ Thou moon, that now brighten'st those regions above,
+ How oft hast thou witness'd my bliss,
+ While breathing my tender expressions of love,
+ I seal'd each kind vow with a kiss!
+
+ Ah, then, how I joy'd while I gazed on her charms!
+ What transports flew swift through my heart!
+ I press'd the dear, beautiful maid in my arms,
+ Nor dream'd that we ever should part.
+
+ But now from the dear, from the tenderest maid,
+ By fortune unfeelingly torn;
+ 'Midst strangers, who wonder to see me so sad,
+ In secret I wander forlorn.
+
+ And oft, while drear Midnight assembles her shades,
+ And Silence pours sleep from her throne,
+ Pale, lonely, and pensive, I steal through the glades,
+ And sigh, 'midst the darkness, my moan.
+
+ In vain to the town I retreat for relief,
+ In vain to the groves I complain;
+ Belles, coxcombs, and uproar, can ne'er soothe my grief,
+ And solitude nurses my pain.
+
+ Still absent from her whom my bosom loves best,
+ I languish in mis'ry and care;
+ Her presence could banish each woe from my heart,
+ But her absence, alas! is despair.
+
+ Ye dark rugged rocks, that recline o'er the deep;
+ Ye breezes, that sigh o'er the main--
+ Oh, shelter me under your cliffs while I weep,
+ And cease while ye hear me complain!
+
+ Far distant, alas! from my dear native shore,
+ And far from each friend now I be;
+ And wide is the merciless ocean that roars
+ Between my Matilda and me.
+
+
+
+
+AUCHTERTOOL.[43]
+
+
+ From the village of Leslie, with a heart full of glee,
+ And my pack on my shoulders, I rambled out free,
+ Resolved that same evening, as Luna was full,
+ To lodge, ten miles distant, in old Auchtertool.
+
+ Through many a lone cottage and farm-house I steer'd,
+ Took their money, and off with my budget I sheer'd;
+ The road I explored out, without form or rule,
+ Still asking the nearest to old Auchtertool.
+
+ At length I arrived at the edge of the town,
+ As Phoebus, behind a high mountain, went down;
+ The clouds gather'd dreary, and weather blew foul,
+ And I hugg'd myself safe now in old Auchtertool.
+
+ An inn I inquired out, a lodging desired,
+ But the landlady's pertness seem'd instantly fired;
+ For she saucy replied, as she sat carding wool,
+ "I ne'er kept sic lodgers in auld Auchtertool."
+
+ With scorn I soon left her to live on her pride;
+ But, asking, was told there was none else beside,
+ Except an old weaver, who now kept a school,
+ And these were the whole that were in Auchtertool.
+
+ To his mansion I scamper'd, and rapp'd at the door;
+ He oped, but as soon as I dared to implore,
+ He shut it like thunder, and utter'd a howl
+ That rung through each corner of old Auchtertool.
+
+ Deprived of all shelter, through darkness I trode,
+ Till I came to a ruin'd old house by the road;
+ Here the night I will spend, and, inspired by the owl,
+ My wrath I 'll vent forth upon old Auchtertool.
+
+
+[43] We have ventured to omit three verses, and to alter slightly the
+last line of this song. It was originally published at Paisley, in 1790,
+to the tune of "One bottle more." Auchtertool is a small hamlet in
+Fifeshire, about five miles west of the town of Kirkcaldy. The
+inhabitants, whatever may have been their failings at the period when
+Wilson in vain solicited shelter in the hamlet, are certainly no longer
+entitled to bear the reproach of lacking in hospitality. We rejoice in
+the opportunity thus afforded of testifying as to the disinterested
+hospitality and kindness which we have experienced in that
+neighbourhood.
+
+
+
+
+CAROLINA, BARONESS NAIRN.
+
+
+Carolina Oliphant was born in the old mansion of Gask, in the county of
+Perth, on the 16th of July 1766. She was the third daughter and fifth
+child of Laurence Oliphant of Gask, who had espoused his cousin Margaret
+Robertson, a daughter of Duncan Robertson of Struan, and his wife a
+daughter of the fourth Lord Nairn. The Oliphants of Gask were cadets of
+the formerly noble house of Oliphant; whose ancestor, Sir William
+Oliphant of Aberdalgie, a puissant knight, acquired distinction in the
+beginning of the fourteenth century by defending the Castle of Stirling
+against a formidable siege by the first Edward. The family of Gask were
+devoted Jacobites; the paternal grandfather of Carolina Oliphant had
+attended Prince Charles Edward as aid-de-camp during his disastrous
+campaign of 1745-6, and his spouse had indicated her sympathy in his
+cause by cutting out a lock of his hair on the occasion of his accepting
+the hospitality of the family mansion. The portion of hair is preserved
+at Gask; and Carolina Oliphant, in her song, "The Auld House," has thus
+celebrated the gentle deed of her progenitor:--
+
+ "The Leddy too, sae genty,
+ There shelter'd Scotland's heir,
+ An' clipt a lock wi' her ain hand
+ Frae his lang yellow hair."
+
+The estate of Gask escaped forfeiture, but the father of Carolina did
+not renounce the Jacobite sentiments of his ancestors. He named the
+subject of this memoir Carolina, in honour of Prince Charles Edward; and
+his prevailing topic of conversation was the reiterated expression of
+his hope that "the king would get his ain." He would not permit the
+names of the reigning monarch and his queen to be mentioned in his
+presence; and when impaired eyesight compelled him to seek the
+assistance of his family in reading the newspapers, he angrily reproved
+the reader if the "German lairdie and his leddy" were designated
+otherwise than by the initial letters, "K. and Q." This extreme
+Jacobitism at a period when the crime was scarcely to be dreaded, was
+reported to George III., who is related to have confessed his respect
+for a man who had so consistently maintained his political sentiments.
+
+In her youth, Carolina Oliphant was singularly beautiful, and was known
+in her native district by the poetical designation of "The Flower of
+Strathearn." She was as remarkable for the precocity of her intellect,
+as she was celebrated for the elegance of her person. Descended by her
+mother from a family which, in one instance,[44] at least, had afforded
+some evidence of poetical talents, and possessed of a correct musical
+ear, she very early composed verses for her favourite melodies. To the
+development of her native genius, her juvenile condition abundantly
+contributed: the locality of her birthplace, rich in landscape scenery,
+and associated with family traditions and legends of curious and
+chivalric adventure, might have been sufficient to promote, in a mind
+less fertile than her own, sentiments of poesy. In the application of
+her talents she was influenced by another incentive. A loose ribaldry
+tainted the songs and ballads which circulated among the peasantry, and
+she was convinced that the diffusion of a more wholesome minstrelsy
+would essentially elevate the moral tone of the community. Thus, while
+still young, she commenced to purify the older melodies, and to compose
+new songs, which were ultimately destined to occupy an ample share of
+the national heart. The occasion of an agricultural dinner in the
+neighbourhood afforded her a fitting opportunity of making trial of her
+success in the good work which she had begun. To the president of the
+meeting she sent, anonymously, her verses entitled "The Ploughman;" and
+the production being publicly read, was received with warm approbation,
+and was speedily put to music. She was thus encouraged to proceed in her
+self-imposed task; and to this early period of her life may be ascribed
+some of her best lyrics. "The Laird o' Cockpen," and "The Land o' the
+Leal," at the close of the century, were sung in every district of the
+kingdom.
+
+Carolina Oliphant had many suitors for her hand: she gave a preference
+to William Murray Nairn, her maternal cousin, who had been Baron Nairn,
+barring the attainder of the title on account of the Jacobitism of the
+last Baron. The marriage was celebrated in June 1806. At this period, Mr
+Nairn was Assistant Inspector-General of Barracks in Scotland, and held
+the rank of major in the army. By Act of Parliament, on the 17th June
+1824, the attainder of the family was removed, the title of Baron being
+conferred on Major Nairn. This measure is reported to have been passed
+on the strong recommendation of George IV.; his Majesty having learned,
+during his state visit to Scotland in 1822, that the song of "The
+Attainted Scottish Nobles" was the composition of Lady Nairn. The song
+is certainly one of the best apologies for Jacobitism.
+
+On the 9th of July 1830, Lady Nairn was bereaved of her husband, to whom
+she had proved an affectionate wife. Her care had for several years been
+assiduously bestowed on the proper rearing of her only child William,
+who, being born in 1808, had reached his twenty-second year when he
+succeeded to the title on the death of his father. This young nobleman
+warmly reciprocated his mother's affectionate devotedness; and, making
+her the associate of his manhood, proved a source of much comfort to her
+in her bereavement. In 1837, he resolved, in her society, to visit the
+Continent, in the hope of being recruited by change of climate from an
+attack of influenza caught in the spring of that year. But the change
+did not avail; he was seized with a violent cold at Brussels, which,
+after an illness of six weeks, proved fatal. He died in that city on the
+7th of December 1837. Deprived both of her husband and her only child, a
+young nobleman of so much promise, and of singular Christian worth, Lady
+Nairn, though submitting to the mysterious dispensations with becoming
+resignation, did not regain her wonted buoyancy of spirit. Old age was
+rapidly approaching,--those years in which the words of the inspired
+sage, "I have no pleasure in them," are too frequently called forth by
+the pressure of human infirmities. But this amiable lady did not sink
+under the load of affliction and of years: she mourned in hope, and wept
+in faith. While the afflictions which had mingled with her cup of
+blessings tended to prevent her lingering too intently on the past,[45]
+the remembrance of a life devoted to deeds of piety and virtue was a
+solace greater than any other earthly object could impart, leading her
+to hail the future with sentiments of joyful anticipation. During the
+last years of her life, unfettered by worldly ties, she devoted all her
+energies to the service of Heaven, and to the advancement of Christian
+truth. Her beautiful ode, "Would you be young again?" was composed in
+1842, and enclosed in a letter to a friend; it is signally expressive of
+the pious resignation and Christian hope of the author.
+
+After the important era of her marriage, she seems to have relinquished
+her literary ardour. But in the year 1821, Mr Robert Purdie, an
+enterprising music-seller in Edinburgh, having resolved to publish a
+series of the more approved national songs, made application to several
+ladies celebrated for their musical skill, with the view of obtaining
+their assistance in the arrangement of the melodies. To these ladies was
+known the secret of Lady Nairn's devotedness to Scottish song, enjoying
+as they did her literary correspondence and private intimacy; and in
+consenting to aid the publisher in his undertaking, they calculated on
+contributions from their accomplished friend. They had formed a correct
+estimate: Lady Nairn, whose extreme diffidence had hitherto proved a
+barrier to the fulfilment of the best wishes of her heart, in effecting
+the reformation of the national minstrelsy, consented to transmit
+pieces for insertion, on the express condition that her name and rank,
+and every circumstance connected with her history, should be kept in
+profound secrecy. The condition was carefully observed; so that,
+although the publication of "The Scottish Minstrel" extended over three
+years, and she had several personal interviews and much correspondence
+with the publisher and his editor, Mr R. A. Smith, both these
+individuals remained ignorant of her real name. She had assumed the
+signature, "B. B.," in her correspondence with Mr Purdie, who appears to
+have been entertained by _the discovery_, communicated in confidence,
+that the name of his contributor was "Mrs Bogan of Bogan;" and by this
+designation he subsequently addressed her. The _nom de guerre_ of the
+two B.'s[46] is attached to the greater number of Lady Nairn's
+contributions in "The Scottish Minstrel."
+
+The new collection of minstrelsy, unexceptionable as it was in the words
+attached to all the airs, commanded a wide circulation, and excited
+general attention. The original contributions were especially commended,
+and some of them were forthwith sung by professed vocalists in the
+principal towns. Much speculation arose respecting the authorship, and
+various conjectures were supported, each with plausible arguments, by
+the public journalists. In these circumstances, Lady Nairn experienced
+painful alarm, lest, by any inadvertence on the part of her friends, the
+origin of her songs should be traced. While the publication of the
+"Minstrel" was proceeding, her correspondents received repeated
+injunctions to adopt every caution in preserving her _incognita_; she
+was even desirous that her sex might not be made known. "I beg the
+publisher will make no mention of a _lady_," she wrote to one of her
+correspondents, "as you observe, the more mystery the better, and
+_still_ the balance is in favour of the lords of creation. I cannot
+help, in some degree, undervaluing beforehand what is said to be a
+feminine production." "The Scottish Minstrel" was completed in 1824, in
+six royal octavo volumes, forming one of the best collections of the
+Scottish melodies. It was in the full belief that "Mrs Bogan" was her
+real name, that the following compliment was paid to Lady Nairn by
+Messrs Purdie and R. A. Smith, in the advertisement to the last volume
+of the work:--"In particular, the editors would have felt happy in being
+permitted to enumerate the many original and beautiful verses that adorn
+their pages, for which they are indebted to the author of the
+much-admired song, 'The Land o' the Leal;' but they fear to wound a
+delicacy which shrinks from all observation."
+
+Subsequent to the appearance of "The Scottish Minstrel," Lady Nairn did
+not publish any lyrics; and she was eminently successful in preserving
+her _incognita_. No critic ventured to identify her as the celebrated
+"B. B.," and it was only whispered among a few that she had composed
+"The Land o' the Leal." The mention of her name publicly as the author
+of this beautiful ode, on one occasion, had signally disconcerted her.
+While she was resident in Paris, in 1842, she writes to an intimate
+friend in Edinburgh on this subject:--"A Scottish lady here, Lady----,
+with whom I never met in Scotland, is so good as, among perfect
+strangers, to _denounce_ me as the origin of 'The Land o' the Leal!' I
+cannot trace it, but very much dislike as ever any kind of publicity."
+The extreme diffidence and shrinking modesty of the amiable author
+continued to the close of her life; she never divulged, beyond a small
+circle of confidential friends, the authorship of a single verse. The
+songs published in her youth had been given to others; but, as in the
+case of Lady Anne Barnard, these assignments caused her no uneasiness.
+She experienced much gratification in finding her simple minstrelsy
+supplanting the coarse and demoralising rhymes of a former period; and
+this mental satisfaction she preferred to fame.
+
+The philanthropic efforts of Lady Nairn were not limited to the
+purification of the national minstrelsy; her benevolence extended
+towards the support of every institution likely to promote the temporal
+comforts, or advance the spiritual interests of her countrymen. Her
+contributions to the public charities were ample, and she
+
+ "Did good by stealth, and blush'd to find it fame."
+
+In an address delivered at Edinburgh, on the 29th of December 1845, Dr
+Chalmers, referring to the exertions which had been made for the supply
+of religious instruction in the district of the West Port of Edinburgh,
+made the following remarks regarding Lady Nairn, who was then recently
+deceased:--"Let me speak now as to the countenance we have received. I
+am now at liberty to mention a very noble benefaction which I received
+about a year ago. Inquiry was made at me by a lady, mentioning that she
+had a sum at her disposal, and that she wished to apply it to charitable
+purposes; and she wanted me to enumerate a list of charitable objects,
+in proportion to the estimate I had of their value. Accordingly, I
+furnished her with a scale of about five or six charitable objects. The
+highest in the scale were those institutions which had for their design
+the Christianising of the people at home; and I also mentioned to her,
+in connexion with the Christianising at home, what we were doing at the
+West Port; and there came to me from her, in the course of a day or two,
+no less a sum than L300. She is now dead; she is now in her grave, and
+her works do follow her. When she gave me this noble benefaction, she
+laid me under strict injunctions of secrecy, and, accordingly, I did not
+mention her name to any person; but after she was dead, I begged of her
+nearest heir that I might be allowed to proclaim it, because I thought
+that her example, so worthy to be followed, might influence others in
+imitating her; and I am happy to say that I am now at liberty to state
+that it was Lady Nairn of Perthshire. It enabled us, at the expense of
+L330, to purchase sites for schools, and a church; and we have got a
+site in the very heart of the locality, with a very considerable extent
+of ground for a washing-green, a washing-house, and a play-ground for
+the children, so that we are a good step in advance towards the
+completion of our parochial economy."
+
+After the death of her son, and till within two years of her own death,
+Lady Nairn resided chiefly on the Continent, and frequently in Paris.
+Her health had for several years been considerably impaired, and
+latterly she had recourse to a wheeled chair. In the mansion of Gask, on
+the 27th of October 1845, she gently sunk into her rest, at the advanced
+age of seventy-nine years.
+
+Some years subsequent to this event, it occurred to the relatives and
+literary friends of the deceased Baroness that as there could no longer
+be any reason for retaining her _incognita_, full justice should be done
+to her memory by the publication of a collected edition of her works.
+This scheme was partially executed in an elegant folio, entitled "Lays
+from Strathearn: by Carolina, Baroness Nairn. Arranged with Symphonies
+and Accompaniments for the Pianoforte, by Finlay Dun." It bears the
+imprint of London, and has no date. In this work, of which a new edition
+will speedily be published by Messrs Paterson, music-sellers, Edinburgh,
+are contained seventy songs, but the larger proportion of the author's
+lyrics still remain in MS. From her representatives we have received
+permission to select her best lyrics for the present work, and to insert
+several pieces hitherto unpublished. Of the lays which we have selected,
+several are new versions to old airs; the majority, though unknown as
+the compositions of Lady Nairn, are already familiar in the drawing-room
+and the cottage. For winning simplicity, graceful expression, and
+exquisite pathos, her compositions are especially remarkable; but when
+her muse prompts to humour, the laugh is sprightly and overpowering.
+
+In society, Lady Nairn was reserved and unassuming. Her countenance,
+naturally beautiful, wore, in her mature years, a somewhat pensive cast;
+and the characteristic by which she was known consisted in her
+enthusiastic love of music. It may be added, that she was fond of the
+fine arts, and was skilled in the use of the pencil.
+
+
+[44] Robertson of Struan, cousin-german of Lady Nairn's mother, and a
+conspicuous Jacobite chief, composed many fugitive verses for the
+amusement of his friends; and a collection of them, said to have been
+surreptitiously obtained from a servant, was published, without a date,
+under the following title:--"Poems on various Subjects and Occasions, by
+the Honourable Alexander Robertson of Struan, Esq.--mostly taken from
+his own original Manuscripts." Edinburgh, 8vo.
+
+[45] Writing to one of her correspondents, in November 1840, Lady Nairn
+thus remarks--"I sometimes say to myself, 'This is no me,' so greatly
+have my feelings and trains of thought changed since 'auld lang syne;'
+and, though I am made to know assuredly that all is well, I scarcely
+dare to allow my mind to settle on the past."
+
+[46] A daughter of Baron Hume was one of the ladies who induced Lady
+Nairn to become a contributor to "The Scottish Minstrel." Many of the
+songs were sent to the Editor through the medium of Miss Hume. She thus
+expresses herself in a letter to a friend:--"My father's admiration of
+'The Land o' the Leal' was such, that he said no woman but Miss Ferrier
+was capable of writing it. And when I used to shew him song after song
+in MS., when I was receiving the anonymous verses for the music, and ask
+his criticism, he said--'Your unknown poetess has only _one_, or rather
+_two_, letters out of taste, viz., choosing "B. B." for her signature.'"
+
+
+
+
+THE PLEUGHMAN.[47]
+
+
+ There 's high and low, there 's rich and poor,
+ There 's trades and crafts enew, man;
+ But, east and west, his trade 's the best,
+ That kens to guide the pleugh, man.
+ Then, come, weel speed my pleughman lad,
+ And hey my merry pleughman;
+ Of a' the trades that I do ken,
+ Commend me to the pleughman.
+
+ His dreams are sweet upon his bed,
+ His cares are light and few, man;
+ His mother's blessing 's on his head,
+ That tents her weel, the pleughman.
+ Then, come, weel speed, &c.
+
+ The lark, sae sweet, that starts to meet
+ The morning fresh and new, man;
+ Blythe though she be, as blythe is he
+ That sings as sweet, the pleughman.
+ Then, come, weel speed, &c.
+
+ All fresh and gay, at dawn of day
+ Their labours they renew, man;
+ Heaven bless the seed, and bless the soil,
+ And Heaven bless the pleughman.
+ Then, come, weel speed, &c.
+
+
+[47] This seems to have been the author's first composition in Scottish
+verse. See the Memoir.
+
+
+
+
+CALLER HERRIN'.[48]
+
+
+ Wha 'll buy caller herrin'?
+ They 're bonnie fish and halesome farin';
+ Wha 'll buy caller herrin',
+ New drawn frae the Forth?
+
+ When ye were sleepin' on your pillows,
+ Dream'd ye ought o' our puir fellows,
+ Darkling as they faced the billows,
+ A' to fill the woven willows.
+ Buy my caller herrin',
+ New drawn frae the Forth.
+
+ Wha 'll buy my caller herrin'?
+ They 're no brought here without brave daring;
+ Buy my caller herrin',
+ Haul'd thro' wind and rain.
+ Wha 'll buy caller herrin'? &c.
+
+ Wha 'll buy my caller herrin'?
+ Oh, ye may ca' them vulgar farin'!
+ Wives and mithers, maist despairin',
+ Ca' them lives o' men.
+ Wha 'll buy caller herrin'? &c.
+
+ When the creel o' herrin' passes,
+ Ladies, clad in silks and laces,
+ Gather in their braw pelisses,
+ Cast their heads, and screw their faces.
+ Wha 'll buy caller herrin'? &c.
+
+ Caller herrin 's no got lightlie;
+ Ye can trip the spring fu' tightlie;
+ Spite o' tauntin', flauntin', flingin',
+ Gow has set you a' a-singin'.
+ Wha 'll buy caller herrin'? &c.
+
+ Neebour wives, now tent my tellin',
+ When the bonny fish ye 're sellin',
+ At ae word be in yer dealin'--
+ Truth will stand when a' thing 's failin'.
+ Wha 'll buy caller herrin'? &c.
+
+
+[48] This song has acquired an extensive popularity, for which it is
+much indebted, in addition to its intrinsic merits, to the musical
+powers of the late John Wilson, the eminent vocalist, whose premature
+death is a source of regret to all lovers of Scottish melody. Mr Wilson
+sung this song in every principal town of the United Kingdom, and always
+with effect.
+
+
+
+
+THE LAND O' THE LEAL.[49]
+
+
+ I 'm wearin' awa', John,
+ Like snaw wreaths in thaw, John;
+ I 'm wearin' awa'
+ To the land o' the leal.
+ There 's nae sorrow there, John;
+ There 's neither cauld nor care, John;
+ The day 's aye fair
+ I' the land o' the leal.
+
+ Our bonnie bairn 's there, John;
+ She was baith gude and fair, John;
+ And, oh! we grudged her sair
+ To the land o' the leal.
+ But sorrows sel' wears past, John,
+ And joy 's a-comin' fast, John--
+ The joy that 's aye to last
+ In the land o' the leal.
+
+ Sae dear 's that joy was bought, John,
+ Sae free the battle fought, John,
+ That sinfu' man e'er brought
+ To the land o' the leal.
+ Oh, dry your glist'ning e'e, John!
+ My saul langs to be free, John;
+ And angels beckon me
+ To the land o' the leal.
+
+ Oh, haud ye leal and true, John!
+ Your day it 's wearin' thro', John;
+ And I 'll welcome you
+ To the land o' the leal.
+ Now, fare ye weel, my ain John,
+ This warld's cares are vain, John;
+ We 'll meet, and we 'll be fain,
+ In the land o' the leal.
+
+
+[49] This exquisitely tender and beautiful lay was composed by Lady
+Nairn, for two married relatives of her own, Mr and Mrs C----, who had
+sustained bereavement in the death of a child. Such is the account of
+its origin which we have received from Lady Nairn's relatives.
+
+
+
+
+THE LAIRD O' COCKPEN.[50]
+
+ The Laird o' Cockpen he 's proud and he 's great,
+ His mind is ta'en up with the things o' the state;
+ He wanted a wife his braw house to keep,
+ But favour wi' wooin' was fashious to seek.
+
+ Down by the dyke-side a lady did dwell,
+ At his table-head he thought she 'd look well;
+ M'Clish's ae daughter o' Claverse-ha' Lee,
+ A penniless lass wi' a lang pedigree.
+
+ His wig was weel pouther'd, and as gude as new;
+ His waistcoat was white, his coat it was blue;
+ He put on a ring, a sword, and cock'd hat,
+ And wha' could refuse the Laird wi' a' that?
+
+ He took the gray mare, and rade cannily--
+ And rapp'd at the yett o' Claverse-ha' Lee;
+ "Gae tell Mistress Jean to come speedily ben,
+ She 's wanted to speak to the Laird o' Cockpen."
+
+ Mistress Jean was makin' the elder-flower wine,
+ "And what brings the Laird at sic a like time?"
+ She put aff her apron, and on her silk gown,
+ Her mutch wi' red ribbons, and gaed awa' down.
+
+ And when she cam' ben, he bowed fu' low,
+ And what was his errand he soon let her know;
+ Amazed was the Laird when the lady said "Na;"
+ And wi' a laigh curtsie she turned awa'.
+
+ Dumbfounder'd he was, nae sigh did he gie;
+ He mounted his mare--he rade cannily;
+ And aften he thought, as he gaed through the glen,
+ She 's daft to refuse the Laird o' Cockpen.
+
+ And now that the Laird his exit had made,
+ Mistress Jean she reflected on what she had said;
+ "Oh! for ane I 'll get better, it 's waur I 'll get ten,
+ I was daft to refuse the Laird o' Cockpen."
+
+ Next time that the Laird and the Lady were seen,
+ They were gaun arm-in-arm to the kirk on the green;
+ Now she sits in the ha' like a weel-tappit hen,
+ But as yet there 's nae chickens appear'd at Cockpen.
+
+
+[50] This humorous and highly popular song was composed by Lady Nairn
+towards the close of the last century, in place of the older words
+connected with the air, "When she came ben, she bobbit." The older
+version, which is entitled "Cockpen," is exceptional on the score of
+refinement, but was formerly sung on account of the excellence of the
+air. It is generally believed to be a composition of the reign of
+Charles II.; and the hero of the piece, "the Laird of Cockpen," is said
+to have been the companion in arms and attached friend of his sovereign.
+Of this personage an anecdote is recorded in some of the Collections.
+Having been engaged with his countrymen at the battle of Worcester, in
+the cause of Charles, he accompanied the unfortunate monarch to Holland,
+and, forming one of the little court at the Hague, amused his royal
+master by his humour, and especially by his skill in Scottish music. In
+playing the tune, "Brose and Butter," he particularly excelled; it
+became the favourite of the exiled monarch, and Cockpen had pleasure in
+gratifying the royal wish, that he might be lulled to sleep at night,
+and awakened in the morning by this enchanting air. At the Restoration,
+Cockpen found that his estate had been confiscated for his attachment to
+the king, and had the deep mortification to discover that he had
+suffered on behalf of an ungrateful prince, who gave no response to his
+many petitions and entreaties for the restoration of his possessions.
+Visiting London, he was even denied an audience; but he still
+entertained a hope that, by a personal conference with the king, he
+might attain his object. To accomplish this design, he had recourse to
+the following artifice:--He formed acquaintance with the organist of the
+chapel-royal, and obtained permission to officiate as his substitute
+when the king came to service. He did so with becoming propriety till
+the close of the service, when, instead of the solemn departing air, he
+struck up the monarch's old favourite, "Brose and Butter." The scheme,
+though bordering on profanity, succeeded in the manner intended. The
+king proceeding hastily to the organ-gallery, discovered Cockpen, whom
+he saluted familiarly, declaring that he had "almost made him dance." "I
+could dance too," said Cockpen, "if I had my lands again." The request,
+to which every entreaty could not gain a response, was yielded to the
+power of music and old association. Cockpen was restored to his
+inheritance. The modern ballad has been often attributed to Miss
+Ferrier, the accomplished author of "Marriage," and other popular
+novels. She only contributed the last two stanzas. The present Laird of
+Cockpen is the Marquis of Dalhousie.
+
+
+
+
+HER HOME SHE IS LEAVING.
+
+AIR--_"Mordelia."_
+
+
+ In all its rich wildness, her home she is leaving,
+ In sad and tearful silence grieving,
+ And still as the moment of parting is nearer,
+ Each long cherish'd object is fairer and dearer.
+ Not a grove or fresh streamlet but wakens reflection
+ Of hearts still and cold, that glow'd with affection;
+ Not a breeze that blows over the flowers of the wild wood,
+ But tells, as it passes, how blest was her childhood.
+
+ And how long must I leave thee, each fond look expresses,
+ Ye high rocky summits, ye ivy'd recesses!
+ How long must I leave thee, thou wood-shaded river,
+ The echoes all sigh--as they whisper--for ever!
+ Tho' the autumn winds rave, and the seared leaves fall,
+ And winter hangs out her cold icy pall--
+ Yet the footsteps of spring again ye will see,
+ And the singing of birds--but they sing not for me.
+
+ The joys of the past, more faintly recalling,
+ Sweet visions of peace on her spirit are falling,
+ And the soft wing of time, as it speeds for the morrow,
+ Wafts a gale, that is drying the dew-drops of sorrow.
+ Hope dawns--and the toils of life's journey beguiling,
+ The path of the mourner is cheer'd with its smiling;
+ And there her heart rests, and her wishes all centre,
+ Where parting is never--nor sorrow can enter.
+
+
+
+
+
+THE BONNIEST LASS IN A' THE WARLD.
+
+
+ The bonniest lass in a' the warld,
+ I 've often heard them telling,
+ She 's up the hill, she 's down the glen,
+ She 's in yon lonely dwelling.
+ But nane could bring her to my mind
+ Wha lives but in the fancy,
+ Is 't Kate, or Shusie, Jean, or May,
+ Is 't Effie, Bess, or Nancy?
+
+ Now lasses a' keep a gude heart,
+ Nor e'er envy a comrade,
+ For be your een black, blue, or gray,
+ Ye 're bonniest aye to some lad.
+ The tender heart, the charming smile,
+ The truth that ne'er will falter,
+ Are charms that never can beguile,
+ And time can never alter.
+
+
+
+
+MY AIN KIND DEARIE, O![51]
+
+
+ Will ye gang ower the lea-rig,
+ My ain kind dearie, O?
+ Will ye gang ower the lea-rig,
+ My ain kind dearie, O?
+ Gin ye'll tak heart, and gang wi' me,
+ Mishap will never steer ye, O;
+ Gude luck lies ower the lea-rig,
+ My ain kind dearie, O!
+
+ There 's walth ower yon green lea-rig,
+ My ain kind dearie, O!
+ There 's walth ower yon green lea-rig,
+ My ain kind dearie, O!
+ Its neither land, nor gowd, nor braws--
+ Let them gang tapsle teerie, O!
+ It 's walth o' peace, o' love, and truth,
+ My ain kind dearie, O!
+
+
+[51] The first two lines of this song are borrowed from the "Lea-Rig," a
+lively and popular lyric, of which the first two verses were composed by
+Robert Fergusson, the three remaining being added by William Reid of
+Glasgow. (See _ante_, article "William Reid.")
+
+
+
+
+HE'S LIFELESS AMANG THE RUDE BILLOWS.
+
+AIR--_"The Muckin' o' Geordie's Byre."_
+
+
+ He 's lifeless amang the rude billows,
+ My tears and my sighs are in vain;
+ The heart that beat warm for his Jeanie,
+ Will ne'er beat for mortal again.
+ My lane now I am i' the warld,
+ And the daylight is grievous to me;
+ The laddie that lo'ed me sae dearly
+ Lies cauld in the deeps o' the sea.
+
+ Ye tempests, sae boist'rously raging,
+ Rage on as ye list--or be still;
+ This heart ye sae often hae sicken'd,
+ Is nae mair the sport o' your will.
+ Now heartless, I hope not--I fear not,--
+ High Heaven hae pity on me!
+ My soul, tho' dismay'd and distracted,
+ Yet bends to thy awful decree.
+
+
+
+
+JOY OF MY EARLIEST DAYS.
+
+AIR--_"I'll never leave thee."_
+
+
+ Joy of my earliest days,
+ Why must I grieve thee?
+ Theme of my fondest lays,
+ Oh, I maun leave thee!
+ Leave thee, love! leave thee, love!
+ How shall I leave thee?
+ Absence thy truth will prove,
+ For, oh! I maun leave thee!
+
+ When on yon mossy stane,
+ Wild weeds o'ergrowin',
+ Ye sit at e'en your lane,
+ And hear the burn rowin';
+ Oh! think on this partin' hour,
+ Down by the Garry,
+ And to Him that has a' the pow'r,
+ Commend me, my Mary!
+
+
+
+
+OH, WEEL'S ME ON MY AIN MAN.
+
+AIR--_"Landlady count the lawin'."_
+
+
+ Oh, weel's me on my ain man,
+ My ain man, my ain man!
+ Oh, weel's me on my ain gudeman!
+ He 'll aye be welcome hame.
+
+ I 'm wae I blamed him yesternight,
+ For now my heart is feather light;
+ For gowd I wadna gie the sight;
+ I see him linking ower the height.
+ Oh, weel's me on my ain man, &c.
+
+ Rin, Jamie, bring the kebbuck ben,
+ And fin' aneath the speckled hen;
+ Meg, rise and sweep about the fire,
+ Syne cry on Johnnie frae the byre.
+ For weel's me on my ain man,
+ My ain man, my ain man!
+ For weel's me on my ain gudeman!
+ I see him linkin' hame.
+
+
+
+
+KIND ROBIN LOE'S ME.[52]
+
+
+ Robin is my ain gudeman,
+ Now match him, carlins, gin ye can,
+ For ilk ane whitest thinks her swan,
+ But kind Robin lo'es me.
+ To mak my boast I 'll e'en be bauld,
+ For Robin lo'ed me young and auld,
+ In summer's heat and winter's cauld,
+ My kind Robin lo'es me.
+
+ Robin he comes hame at e'en
+ Wi' pleasure glancin' in his e'en;
+ He tells me a' he 's heard and seen,
+ And syne how he lo'es me.
+ There 's some hae land, and some hae gowd,
+ Mair wad hae them gin they could,
+ But a' I wish o' warld's guid,
+ Is Robin still to lo'e me.
+
+
+[52] The author seems to have composed these stanzas as a sequel to a
+wooing song of the same name, beginning, "Robin is my only jo," which
+first appeared in Herd's Collection in 1776. There are some older words
+to the same air, but these are coarse, and are not to be found in any of
+the modern Collections.
+
+
+
+
+KITTY REID'S HOUSE.
+
+AIR--_"Country Bumpkin."_
+
+
+ Hech, hey! the mirth that was there,
+ The mirth that was there,
+ The mirth that was there;
+ Hech, how! the mirth that was there,
+ In Kitty Reid's house on the green, Jo!
+ There was laughin' and singin', and dancin' and glee,
+ In Kitty's Reid's house, in Kitty Reid's house,
+ There was laughin' and singin', and dancin' and glee,
+ In Kitty Reid's house on the green, Jo!
+
+ Hech, hey! the fright that was there,
+ The fright that was there,
+ The fright that was there;
+ Hech, how! the fright that was there,
+ In Kitty Reid's house on the green, Jo!
+ The light glimmer'd in through a crack i' the wa',
+ An' a'body thocht the lift it wad fa',
+ And lads and lasses they soon ran awa'
+ Frae Kitty's Reid's house on the green, Jo!
+
+ Hech, hey! the dule that was there,
+ The dule that was there,
+ The dule that was there;
+ The birds and beasts it wauken'd them a',
+ In Kitty Reid's house on the green, Jo!
+ The wa' gaed a hurley, and scatter'd them a',
+ The piper, the fiddler, auld Kitty, and a';
+ The kye fell a routin', the cocks they did craw,
+ In Kitty Reid's house on the green, Jo!
+
+
+
+
+THE ROBIN'S NEST.
+
+AIR--_"Lochiel's awa' to France."_
+
+
+ Their nest was in the leafy bush,
+ Sae soft and warm, sae soft and warm,
+ And Robins thought their little brood
+ All safe from harm, all safe from harm.
+ The morning's feast with joy they brought,
+ To feed their young wi' tender care;
+ The plunder'd leafy bush they found,
+ But nest and nestlings saw nae mair.
+
+ The mother cou'dna leave the spot,
+ But wheeling round, and wheeling round,
+ The cruel spoiler aim'd a shot,
+ Cured her heart's wound, cured her heart's wound.
+ She will not hear their helpless cry,
+ Nor see them pine in slavery!
+ The burning breast she will not bide,
+ For wrongs of wanton knavery.
+
+ Oh! bonny Robin Redbreast,
+ Ye trust in men, ye trust in men,
+ But what their hard hearts are made o',
+ Ye little ken, ye little ken.
+ They 'll ne'er wi' your wee skin be warm'd,
+ Nor wi' your tiny flesh be fed,
+ But just 'cause you 're a living thing,
+ It 's sport wi' them to lay you dead.
+
+ Ye Hieland and ye Lowland lads,
+ As birdies gay, as birdies gay,
+ Oh, spare them, whistling like yoursel's,
+ And hopping blythe from spray to spray!
+ Their wings were made to soar aloft,
+ And skim the air at liberty;
+ And as you freedom gi'e to them,
+ May you and yours be ever free!
+
+
+
+
+SAW YE NAE MY PEGGY?[53]
+
+
+ Saw ye nae my Peggy?
+ Saw ye nae my Peggy?
+ Saw ye nae my Peggy comin'
+ Through Tillibelton's broom?
+ I 'm frae Aberdagie,
+ Ower the crafts o' Craigie,
+ For aught I ken o' Peggie,
+ She 's ayont the moon.
+
+ 'Twas but at the dawin',
+ Clear the cock was crawin',
+ I saw Peggy cawin'
+ Hawky by the brier.
+ Early bells were ringin',
+ Blythest birds were singin',
+ Sweetest flowers were springin',
+ A' her heart to cheer.
+
+ Now the tempest's blawin',
+ Almond water 's flowin',
+ Deep and ford unknowin',
+ She maun cross the day.
+ Almond waters, spare her,
+ Safe to Lynedoch bear her!
+ Its braes ne'er saw a fairer,
+ Bess Bell nor Mary Gray.
+
+ Oh, now to be wi' her!
+ Or but ance to see her
+ Skaithless, far or near,
+ I 'd gie Scotland's crown.
+ Byeword, blind 's a lover--
+ Wha 's yon I discover?
+ Just yer ain fair rover,
+ Stately stappin' down.
+
+
+[53] Another song with the same title, "Saw ye nae my Peggy?" is
+inserted in the Collections. It first appeared in Herd's Collection, in
+1769, though it is understood to be of a considerably older date. Allan
+Ramsay composed two songs to the same air, but they are both inferior.
+The air is believed to have originally been connected with some
+exceptionable words, beginning, "Saw ye my Maggie?"
+
+
+
+
+GUDE NICHT, AND JOY BE WI' YE A'!
+
+
+ The best o' joys maun hae an end,
+ The best o' friends maun part, I trow;
+ The langest day will wear away,
+ And I maun bid fareweel to you.
+ The tear will tell when hearts are fu',
+ For words, gin they hae sense ava,
+ They 're broken, faltering, and few:
+ Gude nicht, and joy be wi' you a'!
+
+ Oh, we hae wander'd far and wide,
+ O'er Scotia's lands o' frith and fell!
+ And mony a simple flower we 've pu'd,
+ And twined it wi' the heather-bell.
+ We 've ranged the dingle and the dell,
+ The cot-house, and the baron's ha';
+ Now we maun tak a last farewell:
+ Gude nicht, and joy be wi' you a'!
+
+ My harp, fareweel! thy strains are past,
+ Of gleefu' mirth, and heartfelt care;
+ The voice of song maun cease at last,
+ And minstrelsy itsel' decay.
+ But, oh! whar sorrow canna win,
+ Nor parting tears are shed ava',
+ May we meet neighbour, kith, and kin,
+ And joy for aye be wi' us a'!
+
+
+
+
+CAULD KAIL IN ABERDEEN.[54]
+
+
+ There 's cauld kail in Aberdeen,
+ There 's castocks in Strabogie;
+ And morn and e'en, they 're blythe and bein,
+ That haud them frae the cogie.
+ Now, haud ye frae the cogie, lads;
+ O bide ye frae the cogie!
+ I 'll tell ye true, ye 'll never rue,
+ O' passin' by the cogie.
+
+ Young Will was braw and weel put on,
+ Sae blythe was he and vogie;
+ And he got bonnie Mary Don,
+ The flower o' a' Strabogie.
+ Wha wad hae thocht, at wooin' time,
+ He 'd e'er forsaken Mary,
+ And ta'en him to the tipplin' trade,
+ Wi' boozin' Rob and Harry?
+
+ Sair Mary wrought, sair Mary grat,
+ She scarce could lift the ladle;
+ Wi' pithless feet, 'tween ilka greet,
+ She 'd rock the borrow'd cradle.
+ Her weddin' plenishin' was gane,
+ She never thocht to borrow:
+ Her bonnie face was waxin' wan--
+ And Will wrought a' the sorrow.
+
+ He 's reelin' hame ae winter's nicht,
+ Some later than the gloamin';
+ He 's ta'en the rig, he 's miss'd the brig,
+ And Bogie 's ower him foamin'.
+ Wi' broken banes, out ower the stanes,
+ He creepit up Strabogie;
+ And a' the nicht he pray'd wi' micht,
+ To keep him frae the cogie.
+
+ Now Mary's heart is light again--
+ She 's neither sick nor silly;
+ For auld or young, nae sinfu' tongue,
+ Could e'er entice her Willie;
+ And aye the sang through Bogie rang--
+ "O had ye frae the cogie;
+ The weary gill 's the sairest ill
+ On braes o' fair Strabogie."
+
+
+[54] This excellent ballad is the fourth version adapted to the air,
+"Cauld Kail in Aberdeen." Some notice of the three former will be found
+_ante_, p. 46.
+
+
+
+
+HE'S OWER THE HILLS THAT I LO'E WEEL.
+
+
+ He 's ower the hills that I lo'e weel,
+ He 's ower the hills we daurna name;
+ He 's ower the hills ayont Dunblane,
+ Wha soon will get his welcome hame.
+
+ My father's gane to fight for him,
+ My brithers winna bide at hame;
+ My mither greets and prays for them,
+ And 'deed she thinks they 're no to blame.
+ He 's ower the hills, &c.
+
+ The Whigs may scoff, the Whigs may jeer;
+ But, ah! that love maun be sincere
+ Which still keeps true whate'er betide,
+ An' for his sake leaves a' beside.
+ He 's ower the hills, &c.
+
+ His right these hills, his right these plains;
+ Ower Hieland hearts secure he reigns;
+ What lads e'er did our laddies will do;
+ Were I a laddie, I'd follow him too.
+ He 's ower the hills, &c.
+
+ Sae noble a look, sae princely an air,
+ Sae gallant and bold, sae young and sae fair;
+ Oh, did ye but see him, ye 'd do as we've done!
+ Hear him but ance, to his standard you 'll run.
+ He 's ower the hills, &c.
+
+ Then draw the claymore, for Charlie then fight;
+ For your country, religion, and a' that is right;
+ Were ten thousand lives now given to me,
+ I 'd die as aft for ane o' the three.
+ He 's ower the hills, &c.
+
+
+
+
+THE LASS O' GOWRIE.[55]
+
+AIR--_"Loch Erroch Side."_
+
+
+ 'Twas on a summer's afternoon,
+ A wee afore the sun gaed down,
+ A lassie, wi' a braw new gown,
+ Cam' ower the hills to Gowrie.
+ The rose-bud, wash'd in summer's shower,
+ Bloom'd fresh within the sunny bower;
+ But Kitty was the fairest flower
+ That e'er was seen in Gowrie.
+
+ To see her cousin she cam' there,
+ An', oh, the scene was passing fair!
+ For what in Scotland can compare
+ Wi' the Carse o' Gowrie?
+ The sun was setting on the Tay,
+ The blue hills melting into gray;
+ The mavis' and the blackbird's lay
+ Were sweetly heard in Gowrie.
+
+ Oh, lang the lassie I had woo'd!
+ An' truth and constancy had vow'd,
+ But cam' nae speed wi' her I lo'ed,
+ Until she saw fair Gowrie.
+ I pointed to my faither's ha',
+ Yon bonnie bield ayont the shaw,
+ Sae loun' that there nae blast could blaw;
+ Wad she no bide in Gowrie?
+
+ Her faither was baith glad and wae;
+ Her mither she wad naething say;
+ The bairnies thocht they wad get play
+ If Kitty gaed to Gowrie.
+ She whiles did smile, she whiles did greet,
+ The blush and tear were on her cheek;
+ She naething said, an' hung her head;
+ But now she's Leddy Gowrie.
+
+
+[55] There are several other versions of this highly popular song. One
+of these, the composition of William Reid of Glasgow, has already been
+adduced. See _ante_, p. 157. Another, which is one of the most
+celebrated, in the first two verses is nearly the same with the opening
+stanzas of Lady Nairn's version, the sequel proceeding as follows:--
+
+ I praised her beauty loud an' lang,
+ Then round her waist my arms I flang,
+ And said, "My dearie, will ye gang
+ To see the Carse o' Gowrie?
+
+ "I'll tak ye to my father's ha',
+ In yon green field beside the shaw;
+ I'll mak you lady o' them a'--
+ The brawest wife in Gowrie."
+
+ Soft kisses on her lips I laid,
+ The blush upon her cheek soon spread;
+ She whisper'd modestly, and said,
+ "I'll gang wi' you to Gowrie."
+
+ The auld folks soon ga'e their consent,
+ Syne for Mess John they quickly sent,
+ Wha tied them to their heart's content,
+ And now she's Lady Gowrie.
+
+Mr Lyle, in his "Ancient Ballads and Songs" (Lond. 1827, 12mo, p. 138),
+presents an additional version, which we subjoin. Mr Lyle remarks, that
+he had revised it from an old stall copy, ascribed to Colonel James
+Ramsay of Stirling Castle.
+
+ THE BONNIE LASS O' GOWRIE.
+
+ A wee bit north frae yon green wood,
+ Whar draps the sunny showerie,
+ The lofty elm-trees spread their boughs,
+ To shade the braes o' Gowrie;
+ An' by yon burn ye scarce can see,
+ There stan's a rustic bowerie,
+ Whar lives a lass mair dear to me
+ Than a' the maids in Gowrie.
+
+ Nae gentle bard e'er sang her praise,
+ 'Cause fortune ne'er left dowrie;
+ The rose blaws sweetest in the shade,
+ So does the flower o' Gowrie.
+ When April strews her garlands roun',
+ Her bare foot treads the flowerie;
+ Her sang gars a' the woodlands ring,
+ That shade the braes o' Gowrie.
+
+ Her modest blush an' downcast e'e,
+ A flame sent beating through me;
+ For she surpasses all I've seen,
+ This peerless flower o' Gowrie.
+ I've lain upon the dewy green
+ Until the evening hourie,
+ An' thought gin e'er I durst ca' mine
+ The bonnie lass o' Gowrie.
+
+ The bushes that o'erhang the burn,
+ Sae verdant and sae flowerie,
+ Can witness that I love alane
+ The bonnie lass o' Gowrie.
+ Let ithers dream an' sigh for wealth,
+ An' fashions fleet and flowery;
+ Gi'e me that heav'nly innocence
+ Upon the braes o' Gowrie.
+
+
+
+
+THERE GROWS A BONNIE BRIER BUSH.[56]
+
+
+ There grows a bonnie brier bush in our kail-yard,
+ And white are the blossoms o't in our kail-yard,
+ Like wee bit white cockauds to deck our Hieland lads,
+ And the lasses lo'e the bonnie bush in our kail-yard.
+
+ An' it 's hame, an' it 's hame to the north countrie,
+ An' it 's hame, an' it 's hame to the north countrie,
+ Where my bonnie Jean is waiting for me,
+ Wi' a heart kind and true, in my ain countrie.
+
+ "But were they a' true that were far awa?
+ Oh! were they a' true that were far awa'?
+ They drew up wi' glaikit Englishers at Carlisle Ha',
+ And forgot auld frien's that were far awa.
+
+ "Ye 'll come nae mair, Jamie, where aft ye 've been,
+ Ye 'll come nae mair, Jamie, to Atholl's green;
+ Ye lo'ed ower weel the dancin' at Carlisle Ha',
+ And forgot the Hieland hills that were far awa'."
+
+ "I ne'er lo'ed a dance but on Atholl's green,
+ I ne'er lo'ed a lassie but my dorty Jean,
+ Sair, sair against my will did I bide sae lang awa',
+ And my heart was aye in Atholl's green at Carlisle Ha'."
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ The brier bush was bonnie ance in our kail-yard;
+ The brier bush was bonnie ance in our kail-yard;
+ A blast blew ower the hill, that gae Atholl's flowers a chill,
+ And the bloom 's blawn aff the bonnie bush in our kail-yard.
+
+
+[56] The present is an amended version of an old song, entitled "The
+Bonnie Brier Bush," altered and added to by Burns for the "Musical
+Museum."
+
+
+
+
+JOHN TOD.
+
+
+ He 's a terrible man, John Tod, John Tod,
+ He 's a terrible man, John Tod;
+ He scolds in the house,
+ He scolds at the door,
+ He scolds on the vera hie road, John Tod,
+ He scolds on the vera hie road.
+
+ The weans a' fear John Tod, John Tod,
+ The weans a' fear John Tod;
+ When he 's passing by,
+ The mithers will cry,--
+ Here 's an ill wean, John Tod, John Tod,
+ Here 's an ill wean, John Tod.
+
+ The callants a' fear John Tod, John Tod,
+ The callants a' fear John Tod;
+ If they steal but a neep,
+ The callant he 'll whip,
+ And it 's unco weel done o' John Tod, John Tod,
+ It 's unco weel done o' John Tod.
+
+ An' saw ye nae wee John Tod, John Tod?
+ Oh, saw ye nae wee John Tod?
+ His bannet was blue,
+ His shoon maistly new,
+ An' weel does he keep the kirk road, John Tod,
+ Oh, weel does he keep the kirk road.
+
+ How is he fendin', John Tod, John Tod?
+ How is he wendin', John Tod?
+ He 's scourin' the land,
+ Wi' his rung in his hand,
+ An' the French wadna frighten John Tod, John Tod,
+ An' the French wadna frighten John Tod.
+
+ Ye 're sun-brunt and batter'd, John Tod, John Tod
+ Ye 're tantit and tatter'd, John Tod;
+ Wi' your auld strippit coul,
+ Ye look maist like a fule,
+ But there 's nouse i' the lining,[57] John Tod, John Tod,
+ But there 's nouse i' the lining, John Tod.
+
+ He 's weel respeckit, John Tod, John Tod,
+ He 's weel respeckit, John Tod;
+ He 's a terrible man,
+ But we 'd a' gae wrang
+ If e'er he sud leave us, John Tod, John Tod,
+ If e'er he sud leave us, John Tod.
+
+
+[57] A familiar Scottish phrase for good sense.
+
+
+
+
+WILL YE NO COME BACK AGAIN?
+
+
+ Bonnie Charlie 's now awa',
+ Safely ower the friendly main;
+ Mony a heart will break in twa
+ Should he ne'er come back again.
+ Will ye no come back again?
+ Will ye no come back again?
+ Better lo'ed ye canna be--
+ Will ye no come back again?
+
+ Ye trusted in your Hieland men,
+ They trusted you, dear Charlie!
+ They kent your hiding in the glen,
+ Death or exile braving.
+ Will ye no, &c.
+
+ English bribes were a' in vain,
+ Tho' puir, and puirer, we maun be;
+ Siller canna buy the heart
+ That beats aye for thine and thee.
+ Will ye no, &c.
+
+ We watch'd thee in the gloamin' hour,
+ We watch'd thee in the mornin' gray;
+ Though thirty thousand pound they gi'e,
+ Oh, there is none that wad betray!
+ Will ye no, &c.
+
+ Sweet 's the laverock's note, and lang,
+ Lilting wildly up the glen;
+ But aye to me he sings ae sang,
+ Will ye no come back again?
+ Will ye no, &c.
+
+
+
+
+JAMIE THE LAIRD.
+
+AIR--_"The Rock and the Wee Pickle Tow."_
+
+
+ Send a horse to the water, ye 'll no mak him drink,
+ Send a fule to the college, ye 'll no mak him think;
+ Send a craw to the singin', an' still he will craw,
+ An' the wee laird had nae rummulgumshion ava.
+ Yet is he the pride o' his fond mother's e'e,
+ In body or mind, nae fau't can she see;
+ "He 's a fell clever lad, an' a bonny wee man,"
+ Is aye the beginnin' an' end o' her sang.
+ An' oh! she 's a haverin' lucky, I trow,
+ An' oh! she 's a haverin' lucky, I trow;
+ "He 's a fell clever lad, an' a bonny wee man,"
+ Is aye the beginnin' an' end o' her sang.
+
+ His legs they are bow'd, his een they do glee,
+ His wig, whiles it 's aff, and when on, it 's ajee;
+ He 's braid as he 's lang, an' ill-faur'd is he,
+ A dafter-like body I never did see.
+ An' yet for this cratur' she says I am deein',
+ When that I deny, she 's fear'd at my leein';
+ Obliged to put up wi' this sair defamation,
+ I'm liken to dee wi' grief an' vexation.
+ An' oh! she 's a haverin' lucky, &c.
+
+ An' her clishmaclavers gang a' through the toun,
+ An' the wee lairdie trows I 'll hang or I 'll droun.
+ Wi' his gawky-like face, yestreen he did say,
+ "I 'll maybe tak you, for Bess I 'll no hae,
+ Nor Mattie, nor Effie, nor lang-legged Jeanie,
+ Nor Nelly, nor Katie, nor skirlin' wee Beenie."
+ I stappit my ears, ran aff in a fury--
+ I 'm thinkin' to bring them afore judge an' jury.
+ For oh! what a randy auld luckie is she, &c.
+
+ Freen's! gi'e your advice!--I 'll follow your counsel--
+ Maun I speak to the Provost, or honest Toun Council,
+ Or the writers, or lawyers, or doctors? now say,
+ For the law on the lucky I shall an' will hae.
+ The hale toun at me are jibin' and jeerin',
+ For a leddy like me it 's really past bearin';
+ The lucky maun now hae dune wi' her claverin',
+ For I 'll no put up wi' her nor her haverin'.
+ For oh! she 's a randy, I trow, I trow,
+ For oh! she 's a randy, I trow, I trow;
+ "He 's a fell clever lad, an' a bonny wee man,"
+ Is aye the beginnin' an' end o' her sang.
+
+
+
+
+SONGS OF MY NATIVE LAND.
+
+AIR--_"Happy Land."_
+
+
+ Songs of my native land,
+ To me how dear!
+ Songs of my infancy,
+ Sweet to mine ear!
+ Entwined with my youthful days,
+ Wi' the bonny banks and braes,
+ Where the winding burnie strays,
+ Murmuring near.
+
+ Strains of my native land,
+ That thrill the soul,
+ Pouring the magic of
+ Your soft control!
+ Often has your minstrelsy
+ Soothed the pang of misery,
+ Winging rapid thoughts away
+ To realms on high.
+
+ Weary pilgrims _there_ have rest,
+ Their wand'rings o'er;
+ There the slave, no more oppress'd,
+ Hails Freedom's shore.
+ Sin shall then no more deface,
+ Sickness, pain, and sorrow cease,
+ Ending in eternal peace,
+ And songs of joy!
+
+ There, when the seraphs sing,
+ In cloudless day;
+ There, where the higher praise
+ The ransom'd pay.
+ Soft strains of the happy land,
+ Chanted by the heavenly band,
+ Who can fully understand
+ How sweet ye be!
+
+
+
+
+CASTELL GLOOM.[58]
+
+
+ Oh, Castell Gloom! thy strength is gone,
+ The green grass o'er thee growin';
+ On hill of _Care_ thou art alone,
+ The _Sorrow_ round thee flowin'.
+ Oh, Castell Gloom! on thy fair wa's
+ Nae banners now are streamin',
+ The houlet flits amang thy ha's,
+ And wild birds there are screamin'.
+ Oh! mourn the woe, oh! mourn the crime,
+ Frae civil war that flows;
+ Oh! mourn, Argyll, thy fallen line,
+ And mourn the great Montrose.
+
+ Here ladies bright were aften seen,
+ Here valiant warriors trod;
+ And here great Knox has aften been,
+ Wha fear'd nought but his God!
+ But a' are gane! the guid, the great,
+ And naething now remains,
+ But ruin sittin' on thy wa's,
+ And crumblin' down the stanes.
+ Oh! mourn the woe, &c.
+
+ Thy lofty Ochils bright did glow,
+ Though sleepin' was the sun;
+ But mornin's light did sadly show,
+ What ragin' flames had done.
+ Oh, mirk, mirk was the misty cloud,
+ That hung o'er thy wild wood!
+ Thou wert like beauty in a shroud,
+ And all was solitude.
+ Oh! mourn the woe, &c.
+
+
+[58] Castle Gloom, better known as Castle Campbell, was a residence of
+the noble family of Argyll, from the middle of the fifteenth till the
+middle of the seventeenth century, when it was burnt by the Marquis of
+Montrose--an enterprise to which he was excited by the Ogilvies, who
+thus sought revenge for the destruction, by the Marquis of Argyll, of
+the "bonnie house of Airlie." The castle is situated on a promontory of
+the Ochil hills, near the village of Dollar, in Clackmannanshire, and
+has long been in the ruinous condition described in the song. Two hill
+rivulets, designated _Sorrow_ and _Care_, proceed on either side of the
+castle promontory. John Knox, the Reformer, for some time resided in
+Castle Gloom, with Archibald, fourth Earl of Argyll, and here preached
+the Reformed doctrines.
+
+
+
+
+BONNIE GASCON HA'.
+
+
+ Lane, on the winding Earn there stands
+ An unco tow'r, sae stern an' auld,
+ Biggit by lang forgotten hands,
+ Ance refuge o' the Wallace bauld.
+
+ Time's restless fingers sair hath waur'd
+ And rived thy gray disjaskit wa',
+ But rougher hands nor Time's hae daur'd
+ To wrang thee, bonnie Gascon Ha'!
+
+ Oh, may a muse unkent to fame
+ For this dim greesome relic sue,
+ It 's linkit wi' a patriot's name,
+ The truest Scotland ever knew.
+
+ Just leave in peace each mossy stane
+ Tellin' o' nations' rivalry,
+ An' for succeeding ages hain
+ Remains o' Scottish chivalry.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ What though no monument to thee
+ Is biggit by thy country's hand;
+ Engraved are thy immortal deeds
+ On every heart o' this braid land.
+
+ Rude Time may monuments ding doun,
+ An' tow'rs an' wa's maun a' decay;
+ Enduring, deathless, noble chief,
+ Thy name can never pass away!
+
+ Gi'e pillar'd fame to common men,--
+ Nae need o' cairns for ane like thee;
+ In every cave, wood, hill, and glen,
+ "WALLACE" remember'd aye shall be.
+
+
+
+
+THE AULD HOUSE.
+
+
+ Oh, the auld house, the auld house!
+ What though the rooms were wee?
+ Oh, kind hearts were dwelling there,
+ And bairnies fu' o' glee!
+ The wild-rose and the jesamine
+ Still hang upon the wa';
+ How mony cherish'd memories
+ Do they, sweet flowers, reca'!
+
+ Oh, the auld laird, the auld laird!
+ Sae canty, kind, and crouse;
+ How mony did he welcome to
+ His ain wee dear auld house!
+ And the leddy too, sae genty,
+ There shelter'd Scotland's heir,
+ And clipt a lock wi' her ain hand
+ Frae his lang yellow hair.
+
+ The mavis still doth sweetly sing,
+ The blue bells sweetly blaw,
+ The bonnie Earn 's clear winding still,
+ But the auld house is awa'.
+ The auld house, the auld house,
+ Deserted though ye be,
+ There ne'er can be a new house,
+ Will seem sae fair to me.
+
+ Still flourishing the auld pear tree
+ The bairnies liked to see,
+ And oh, how aften did they speir
+ When ripe they a' wad be!
+ The voices sweet, the wee bit feet
+ Aye rinnin' here and there,
+ The merry shout--oh! whiles we greet
+ To think we 'll hear nae mair.
+
+ For they are a' wide scatter'd now,
+ Some to the Indies gane,
+ And ane, alas! to her lang hame;
+ Not here we 'll meet again.
+ The kirkyaird, the kirkyaird,
+ Wi' flowers o' every hue,
+ Shelter'd by the holly's shade,
+ An' the dark sombre yew.
+
+ The setting sun, the setting sun,
+ How glorious it gaed down;
+ The cloudy splendour raised our hearts
+ To cloudless skies aboon!
+ The auld dial, the auld dial,
+ It tauld how time did pass;
+ The wintry winds hae dung it down,--
+ Now hid 'mang weeds and grass.
+
+
+
+
+THE HUNDRED PIPERS.[59]
+
+AIR--_"Hundred Pipers."_
+
+
+ Wi' a hundred pipers, an' a', an' a',
+ Wi' a hundred pipers, an' a', an' a',
+ We 'll up, and we 'll gi'e them a blaw, a blaw,
+ Wi' a hundred pipers, an' a', an' a'.
+ It is ower the border, awa', awa',
+ It is ower the border, awa', awa',
+ Oh, we 'll on, an' we 'll march to Carlisle ha',
+ Wi' its yetts, its castel, an' a', an' a'.
+
+ Oh, our brave sodger lads look'd braw, an' braw,
+ Wi' their tartans, their kilts, an' a', an' a',
+ Wi' bannets an' feathers, an' glittrin' gear,
+ An' pibrochs soundin' sae sweet an' clear.
+ Will they a' come hame to their ain dear glen?
+ Will they a' return, our brave Hieland men?
+ Oh, second-sighted Sandie look'd fu' wae,
+ An' mithers grat sair whan they march'd away.
+ Wi' a hundred pipers, &c.
+
+ Oh, wha is the foremaist o' a', o' a'?
+ Wha is it first follows the blaw, the blaw?
+ Bonnie Charlie, the king o' us a', us a',
+ Wi' his hundred pipers, an' a', an' a'.
+ His bannet and feather, he 's waving high,
+ His prancin' steed maist seems to fly;
+ The nor' wind plays wi' his curly hair,
+ While the pipers blaw up an unco flare!
+ Wi' his hundred pipers, &c.
+
+ The Esk was swollen sae red an' sae deep,
+ But shouther to shouther the brave lads keep;
+ Twa thousand swam ower to fell English ground,
+ An' danced themselves dry to the pibroch sound.
+ Dumfounder'd the English were a', were a',
+ Dumfounder'd they a' heard the blaw, the blaw,
+ Dumfounder'd they a' ran awa', awa',
+ Frae the hundred pipers, an' a', an' a'.
+ Wi' a hundred pipers, &c.
+
+
+[59] "Charles Edward entered Carlisle preceded by a hundred pipers. Two
+thousand Highlanders crossed the Esk, at Longtown; the tide being
+swollen, nothing was seen of them but their heads and shoulders; they
+stemmed the force of the stream, and lost not a man in the passage: when
+landed, the pipers struck up, and they danced reels until they were dry
+again."--_Authentic Account of Occupation of Carlisle, by George G.
+Monsey._
+
+
+
+
+THE WOMEN ARE A' GANE WUD.[60]
+
+
+ The women are a' gane wud,
+ Oh, that he had biden awa'!
+ He 's turn'd their heads, the lad,
+ And ruin will bring on us a'.
+ George was a peaceable man,
+ My wife she did doucely behave;
+ But now dae a' that I can,
+ She 's just as wild as the lave.
+
+ My wife she wears the cockade,
+ Tho' I 've bidden her no to do sae,
+ She has a true friend in her maid,
+ And they ne'er mind a word that I say.
+ The wild Hieland lads as they pass,
+ The yetts wide open do flee;
+ They eat the very house bare,
+ And nae leave 's speer'd o' me.
+
+ I 've lived a' my days in the Strath
+ Now Tories infest me at hame,
+ And tho' I tak nae side at a',
+ Baith sides will gae me the blame.
+ The senseless creturs ne'er think
+ What ill the lad wad bring back;
+ The Pope we 'd hae, and the d--l,
+ And a' the rest o' his pack.
+
+
+[60] These verses are printed from a MS. in possession of one of Lady
+Nairn's friends, and are, the Editor believes, for the first time
+published.
+
+
+
+
+JEANIE DEANS.[61]
+
+
+ St Leonard's hill was lightsome land,
+ Where gowan'd grass was growin',
+ For man and beast were food and rest,
+ And milk and honey flowin'.
+ A father's blessing follow'd close,
+ Where'er her foot was treading,
+ And Jeanie's humble, hamely joys
+ On every side were spreading wide,
+ On every side were spreading.
+
+ The mossy turf on Arthur's Seat,
+ St Anthon's well aye springin';
+ The lammies playing at her feet,
+ The birdies round her singin'.
+ The solemn haunts o' Holyrood,
+ Wi' bats and hoolits eerie,
+ The tow'ring crags o' Salisbury,
+ The lowly wells o' Weary, O[62]
+ The lowly wells o' Weary.
+
+ But evil days and evil men,
+ Came ower their sunny dwellin',
+ Like thunder-storms on sunny skies,
+ Or wastefu' waters swellin'.
+ What aince was sweet is bitter now,
+ The sun of joy is setting;
+ In eyes that wont to glame wi' glee,
+ The briny tear is wetting fast,
+ The briny tear is wetting.
+
+ Her inmost thoughts to Heaven is sent,
+ In faithful supplication;
+ Her earthly stay 's Macallummore,
+ The guardian o' the nation.
+ A hero's heart--a sister's love--
+ A martyr's truth unbending;
+ They 're a' in Jeanie's tartan plaid--
+ And she is gane, her leefu' lane,
+ To Lunnon toun she 's wending!
+
+
+[61] The romantic scenery depicted in this song is in the immediate
+vicinity of the Queen's Drive, Edinburgh.
+
+[62] The wells of Weary are situated near the Windyknowe, beneath
+Salisbury Crags.
+
+
+
+
+THE HEIRESS.[63]
+
+GAELIC AIR--_"Mo Leannan Falnich."_
+
+
+ I 'll no be had for naething,
+ I 'll no be had for naething,
+ I tell ye, lads, that 's ae thing,
+ So ye needna follow me.
+ Oh, the change is most surprising,
+ Last year I was plain Betty Brown,
+ Now to me they 're a' aspiring,--
+ The fair Elizabeth I am grown!
+
+ What siller does is most amazing,
+ Nane o' them e'er look'd at me,
+ Now my charms they a' are praising,
+ For my sake they 're like to dee.
+ The Laird, the Shirra, and the Doctor,
+ Wi' twa three Lords o' high degree;
+ Wi' heaps o' Writers I could mention--
+ Oh, surely this is no me!
+ But I 'll no, &c.
+
+ The yett is now for ever ringing,
+ Showers o' valentines aye bringing,
+ Fill'd wi' Cupids, flames, and darts,
+ Fae auld and young, wi' broken hearts.
+ The siller, O the weary siller!
+ Aft in toil and trouble sought,
+ But better far it should be sae,
+ Than that true hearts should e'er be bought.
+ Sae I 'll no, &c.
+
+ But there is ane, when I had naething,
+ A' his heart he gi'ed to me;
+ And sair he toil'd for a wee thing,
+ To bring me when he cam frae sea.
+ If ever I should marry ony,
+ He will be the lad for me;
+ For he was baith gude and bonny,
+ And he thought the same o' me.
+ Sae I 'll no, &c.
+
+
+[63] This song is printed from an improved version of the original, by a
+literary friend of the author.
+
+
+
+
+THE MITHERLESS LAMMIE.
+
+
+ The mitherless lammie ne'er miss'd its ain mammie,
+ We tentit it kindly by night and by day,
+ The bairnies made game o't, it had a blithe hame o't,
+ Its food was the gowan--its music was "_mai_."
+
+ Without tie or fetter, it couldna been better,
+ But it would gae witless the world to see;
+ The foe that it fear'd not, it saw not, it heard not,
+ Was watching its wand'ring frae Bonnington Lea.
+
+ Oh, what then befell it, 't were waefu' to tell it,
+ Tod Lowrie kens best, wi' his lang head sae sly;
+ He met the pet lammie, that wanted its mammie,
+ And left its kind hame the wide world to try.
+
+ We miss'd it at day-dawn, we miss'd it at night-fa'in',
+ Its wee shed is tenantless under the tree,
+ Ae dusk i' the gloamin' it wad gae a roamin';
+ 'T will frolic nae mair upon Bonnington Lea.
+
+
+
+
+THE ATTAINTED SCOTTISH NOBLES.[64]
+
+
+ Oh, some will tune their mournfu' strains,
+ To tell o' hame-made sorrow,
+ And if they cheat you o' your tears,
+ They 'll dry upon the morrow.
+ Oh, some will sing their airy dreams,
+ In verity they're sportin',
+ My sang 's o' nae sic thieveless themes,
+ But wakin' true misfortune.
+
+ Ye Scottish nobles, ane and a',
+ For loyalty attainted,
+ A nameless bardie 's wae to see
+ Your sorrows unlamented;
+ For if your fathers ne'er had fought
+ For heirs of ancient royalty,
+ Ye 're down the day that might hae been
+ At the top o' honour's tree a'.
+
+ For old hereditary right,
+ For conscience' sake they stoutly stood;
+ And for the crown their valiant sons
+ Themselves have shed their injured blood;
+ And if their fathers ne'er had fought
+ For heirs of ancient royalty,
+ They 're down the day that might hae been
+ At the top o' honour's tree a'.
+
+
+[64] This song having become known to George IV., it is said to have
+induced his Majesty to award the royal sanction for the restitution of
+the title of Baron to Lady Nairn's husband.--(See Memoir.)
+
+
+
+
+TRUE LOVE IS WATERED AYE WI' TEARS.[65]
+
+
+ True love is water'd aye wi' tears,
+ It grows 'neath stormy skies,
+ It 's fenced around wi' hopes and fears
+ An' fann'd wi' heartfelt sighs.
+ Wi' chains o' gowd it will no be bound,
+ Oh! wha the heart can buy?
+ The titled glare, the warldling's care,
+ Even absence 'twill defy,
+ Even absence 'twill defy.
+
+ And time, that kills a' ither things,
+ His withering touch 'twill brave,
+ 'Twill live in joy, 'twill live in grief,
+ 'Twill live beyond the grave!
+ 'Twill live, 'twill live, though buried deep,
+ In true heart's memorie--
+ Oh! we forgot that ane sae fair,
+ Sae bricht, sae young, could dee,
+ Sae young could dee.
+
+ Unfeeling hands may touch the chord
+ Where buried griefs do lie--
+ How many silent agonies
+ May that rude touch untie!
+ But, oh! I love that plaintive lay--
+ That dear auld melodie!
+ For, oh, 'tis sweet!--yet I maun greet,
+ For it was sung by thee,
+ Sung by thee!
+
+ They may forget wha lichtly love,
+ Or feel but beauty's chain;
+ But they wha loved a heavenly mind
+ Can never love again!
+ A' my dreams o' warld's guid
+ Aye were turn'd wi' thee,
+ But I leant on a broken reed
+ Which soon was ta'en frae me,
+ Ta'en frae me.
+
+ 'Tis weel, 'tis weel, we dinna ken
+ What we may live to see,
+ 'Twas Mercy's hand that hung the veil
+ O'er sad futurity!
+ Oh, ye whose hearts are scathed and riven,
+ Wha feel the warld is vain,
+ Oh, fix your broken earthly ties
+ Where they ne'er will break again,
+ Break again!
+
+
+[65] Here first printed.
+
+
+
+
+AH, LITTLE DID MY MOTHER THINK.[66]
+
+
+ Ah, little did my mother think
+ When to me she sung,
+ What a heartbreak I would be,
+ Her young and dautit son.
+
+ And oh! how fond she was o' me
+ In plaid and bonnet braw,
+ When I bade farewell to the north countrie,
+ And marching gaed awa!
+
+ Ah! little did my mother think
+ A banish'd man I 'd be,
+ Sent frae a' my kith and kin,
+ Them never mair to see.
+
+ Oh! father, 'twas the sugar'd drap
+ Aft ye did gi'e to me,
+ That has brought a' this misery
+ Baith to you and me.
+
+
+[66] These verses are here first printed.
+
+
+
+
+WOULD YOU BE YOUNG AGAIN?[67]
+
+AIR--_"Ailen Aroon."_
+
+
+ Would you be young again?
+ So would not I--
+ One tear to memory given,
+ Onward I 'd hie.
+ Life's dark flood forded o'er,
+ All but at rest on shore,
+ Say, would you plunge once more,
+ With home so nigh?
+
+ If you might, would you now
+ Retrace your way?
+ Wander through stormy wilds,
+ Faint and astray?
+ Night's gloomy watches fled,
+ Morning all beaming red,
+ Hope's smiles around us shed,
+ Heavenward--away.
+
+ Where, then, are those dear ones,
+ Our joy and delight?
+ Dear and more dear though now
+ Hidden from sight.
+ Where they rejoice to be,
+ There is the land for me;
+ Fly, time, fly speedily;
+ Come, life and light.
+
+
+[67] This song was composed in 1842, when the author had attained her
+seventy-sixth year. The four lays following, breathing the same
+devotional spirit, appear to have been written about the same period of
+the author's life. The present song is printed from the original MS.
+
+
+
+
+REST IS NOT HERE.
+
+
+ What 's this vain world to me?
+ Rest is not here;
+ False are the smiles I see,
+ The mirth I hear.
+ Where is youth's joyful glee?
+ Where all once dear to me?
+ Gone, as the shadows flee--
+ Rest is not here.
+
+ Why did the morning shine
+ Blythely and fair?
+ Why did those tints so fine
+ Vanish in air?
+ Does not the vision say,
+ Faint, lingering heart, away,
+ Why in this desert stay--
+ Dark land of care!
+
+ Where souls angelic soar,
+ Thither repair;
+ Let this vain world no more
+ Lull and ensnare.
+ That heaven I love so well
+ Still in my heart shall dwell;
+ All things around me tell
+ Rest is found there.
+
+
+
+
+HERE'S TO THEM THAT ARE GANE.
+
+AIR--_"Here 's a health to ane I lo'e weel."_
+
+
+ Here 's to them, to them that are gane;
+ Here 's to them, to them that are gane;
+ Here 's to them that were here, the faithful and dear,
+ That will never be here again--no, never.
+ But where are they now that are gane?
+ Oh, where are the faithful and true?
+ They 're gane to the light that fears not the night,
+ An' their day of rejoicing shall end--no, never.
+
+ Here 's to them, to them that were here;
+ Here 's to them, to them that were here;
+ Here 's a tear and a sigh to the bliss that 's gane by,
+ But 'twas ne'er like what 's coming, to last--for ever.
+ Oh, bright was their morning sun!
+ Oh, bright was their morning sun!
+ Yet, lang ere the gloaming, in clouds it gaed down;
+ But the storm and the cloud are now past--for ever.
+
+ Fareweel, fareweel! parting silence is sad;
+ Oh, how sad the last parting tear!
+ But that silence shall break, where no tear on the cheek
+ Can bedim the bright vision again--no, never.
+ Then, speed to the wings of old Time,
+ That waft us where pilgrims would be;
+ To the regions of rest, to the shores of the blest,
+ Where the full tide of glory shall flow--for ever.
+
+
+
+
+FAREWEEL, O FAREWEEL!
+
+GAELIC AIR.
+
+
+ Fareweel, O fareweel!
+ My heart it is sair;
+ Fareweel, O fareweel!
+ I 'll see him nae mair.
+
+ Lang, lang was he mine,
+ Lang, lang--but nae mair;
+ I mauna repine,
+ But my heart it is sair.
+
+ His staff 's at the wa',
+ Toom, toom is his chair!
+ His bannet, an' a'!
+ An' I maun be here!
+
+ But oh! he 's at rest,
+ Why sud I complain?
+ Gin my soul be blest,
+ I 'll meet him again.
+
+ Oh, to meet him again,
+ Where hearts ne'er were sair!
+ Oh, to meet him again,
+ To part never mair!
+
+
+
+
+THE DEAD WHO HAVE DIED IN THE LORD.[68]
+
+
+ Go, call for the mourners, and raise the lament,
+ Let the tresses be torn, and the garments be rent;
+ But weep not for him who is gone to his rest,
+ Nor mourn for the ransom'd, nor wail for the blest.
+ The sun is not set, but is risen on high,
+ Nor long in corruption his body shall lie--
+ Then let not the tide of thy griefs overflow,
+ Nor the music of heaven be discord below;
+ Rather loud be the song, and triumphant the chord,
+ Let us joy for the dead who have died in the Lord.
+
+ Go, call for the mourners, and raise the lament,
+ Let the tresses be torn, and the garments be rent;
+ But give to the living thy passion of tears
+ Who walk in this valley of sadness and fears,
+ Who are press'd by the combat, in darkness are lost,
+ By the tempest are beat, on the billows are toss'd.
+ Oh, weep not for those who shall sorrow no more,
+ Whose warfare is ended, whose combat is o'er;
+ Let the song be exalted, be triumphant the chord,
+ And rejoice for the dead who have died in the Lord.
+
+
+[68] These stanzas are printed for the first time. The MS. is not in
+Lady Nairn's handwriting, but there is every reason to assign to her the
+authorship.
+
+
+
+
+JAMES NICOL.
+
+
+James Nicol, the son of Michael Nicol and Marion Hope, was born at
+Innerleithen, in the county of Peebles, on the 28th of September 1769.
+Having acquired the elements of classical knowledge under Mr Tate, the
+parochial schoolmaster, he was sent to the University of Edinburgh,
+where he pursued study with unflinching assiduity and success. On
+completing his academical studies, he was licensed as a probationer by
+the Presbytery of Peebles. His first professional employment was as an
+assistant to the minister of Traquair, a parish bordering on that of
+Innerleithen; and on the death of the incumbent, Mr Nicol succeeded to
+the living. On the 4th of November 1802, he was ordained to the
+ministerial office; and on the 25th of the same month and year, he
+espoused Agnes Walker, a native of Glasgow, and the sister of his
+immediate predecessor, who had for a considerable period possessed a
+warm place in his affections, and been the heroine of his poetical
+reveries. He had for some time been in the habit of communicating verses
+to the _Edinburgh Magazine_; and he afterwards published a collection of
+"Poems, chiefly in the Scottish Dialect," Edinburgh, 1805, 2 vols. 12mo.
+This publication, which was well received, contains some lyrical
+effusions that entitle the author to a respectable rank among the modern
+cultivators of national poetry; yet it is to be regretted that a deep
+admiration of Burns has led him into an imitation, somewhat servile, of
+that immortal bard.
+
+At Traquair Mr Nicol continued to devote himself to mental improvement.
+He read extensively; and writing upon the subject of his studies was his
+daily habit. He was never robust, being affected with a chronic disorder
+of the stomach; and when sickness prevented him, as occasionally
+happened, from writing in a sitting posture, he would for hours together
+have devoted himself to composition in a standing position. Of his prose
+writings, which were numerous, the greater number still remain in MS.,
+in the possession of his elder son. During his lifetime, he contributed
+a number of articles to the _Edinburgh Encyclopaedia_, among which are
+"Baptism," "Baptistry," "Baptists," "Bithynia," and "Cranmer." His
+posthumous work, "An Essay on the Nature and Design of Scripture
+Sacrifices," was published in an octavo volume in the year 1823.
+
+Mr Nicol was much respected for his sound discernment in matters of
+business, as well as for his benevolent disposition. Every dispute in
+the vicinity was submitted to his adjudication, and his counsel checked
+all differences in the district. He was regularly consulted as a
+physician, for he had studied medicine at the University. From his own
+medicine chest he dispensed gratuitously to the indigent sick; and
+without fee he vaccinated all the children of the neighbourhood who were
+brought to him. After a short illness, he died on the 5th of November
+1819. Of a family of three sons and three daughters, the eldest son
+predeceased him; two sons and two daughters still survive. The elder
+son, who bears his father's Christian name, is Professor of Civil and
+Natural History in Marischal College, Aberdeen, and is well known as a
+geologist. Mrs Nicol survived her husband till the 19th of March 1845.
+
+
+
+
+BLAW SAFTLY, YE BREEZES.
+
+
+ Blaw saftly, ye breezes, ye streams, smoothly murmur,
+ Ye sweet-scented blossoms, deck every green tree;
+ 'Mong your wild scatter'd flow'rets aft wanders my charmer,
+ The sweet lovely lass wi' the black rollin' e'e.
+ For pensive I ponder, and languishin' wander,
+ Far frae the sweet rosebud on Quair's windin' stream!
+
+ Why, Heaven, wring my heart wi' the hard heart o' anguish?
+ Why torture my bosom 'tween hope and despair?
+ When absent frae Nancy, I ever maun languish!--
+ That dear angel smile, shall it charm me nae mair?
+ Since here life 's a desert, an' pleasure 's a dream,
+ Bear me swift to those banks which are ever my theme,
+ Where, mild as the mornin' at simmer's returnin',
+ Blooms the sweet lovely rosebud on Quair's windin' stream.
+
+
+
+
+BY YON HOARSE MURMURIN' STREAM.
+
+
+ By yon hoarse murmurin' stream, 'neath the moon's chilly beam,
+ Sadly musin' I wander, an' the tear fills my e'e;
+ Recollection, pensive power, brings back the mournfu' hour,
+ When the laddie gaed awa' that is dear, dear to me.
+
+ The tender words he said, and the faithfu' vows he made,
+ When we parted, to my bosom a mournfu' pleasure gie;
+ An' I lo'e to pass the day where we fondly used to stray,
+ An' repeat the laddie's name that is dear, dear to me.
+
+ Though the flow'rets gem the vales, an' scent the whisperin' gales,
+ An' the birds fill wi' music the sweetly-bloomin' tree;
+ Though nature bid rejoice, yet sorrow tunes my voice,
+ For the laddie 's far awa' that is dear, dear to me!
+
+ When the gloamin' brings alang the time o' mirth an' sang,
+ An' the dance kindles joy in ilka youthfu' e'e,
+ My neebours aften speir, why fa's the hidden tear?
+ But they kenna he's awa' that is dear, dear to me.
+
+ Oh, for the happy hour, when I shall hae the power,
+ To the darlin' o' my soul, on wings o' love, to flee!
+ Or that the day wad come, when fortune shall bring home,
+ The laddie to my arms that is dear, dear to me.
+
+ But if--for much I fear--that day will ne'er appear,
+ Frae me conceal in darkness the cruel stern decree;
+ For life wad a' be vain, were I ne'er to meet again,
+ Wi' the laddie far awa' that is dear, dear to me.
+
+
+
+
+HALUCKIT MEG.
+
+
+ Meg, muckin' at Geordie's byre,
+ Wrought as gin her judgment was wrang;
+ Ilk daud o' the scartle strake fire,
+ While loud as a lavrock she sang.
+ Her Geordie had promised to marry,
+ An' Meg, a sworn fae to despair,
+ Not dreamin' the job could miscarry,
+ Already seem'd mistress an' mair.
+
+ "My neebours," she sang, "aften jeer me,
+ An' ca' me daft haluckit Meg,
+ An' say they expect soon to hear me,
+ I' the kirk, for my fun, get a fleg.
+ An' now, 'bout my marriage they 'll clatter,
+ An' Geordie, puir fallow, they ca'
+ An auld doited hav'rel,--nae matter,
+ He 'll keep me aye brankin an' braw.
+
+ "I grant ye, his face is kenspeckle,
+ That the white o' his e'e is turn'd out,
+ That his black beard is rough as a heckle,
+ That his mou' to his lug 's rax'd about;
+ But they needna let on that he 's crazie,
+ His pikestaff will ne'er let him fa';
+ Nor that his hair 's white as a daisy,
+ For fient a hair has he ava'.
+
+ "But a weel-plenish'd mailin has Geordie,
+ An' routh o' gude gowd in his kist,
+ An' if siller comes at my wordie,
+ His beauty I never will miss 't.
+ Daft gowks, wha catch fire like tinder,
+ Think love-raptures ever will burn?
+ But wi' poortith, hearts het as a cinder,
+ Will cauld as an iceshugle turn.
+
+ "There 'll just be ae bar to my pleasures,
+ A bar that 's aft fill'd me wi' fear,
+ He 's sic a hard near-be-gawn miser,
+ He likes his saul less than his gear.
+ But though I now flatter his failin',
+ An' swear nought wi' gowd can compare,
+ Gude sooth! it shall soon get a scailin',
+ His bags sall be mouldie nae mair!
+
+ "I dreamt that I rode in a chariot,
+ A flunkie ahint me in green;
+ While Geordie cried out he was harriet,
+ An' the saut tear was blindin' his een.
+ But though 'gainst my spendin' he swear aye,
+ I'll hae frae him what ser's my turn;
+ Let him slip awa' whan he grows wearie;
+ Shame fa' me, gin lang I wad mourn!"
+
+ But Geordie, while Meg was haranguin',
+ Was cloutin' his breeks i' the bauks;
+ An' whan a' his failin's she brang in,
+ His strang hazel pikestaff he taks,
+ Designin' to rax her a lounder,
+ He chanced on the lather to shift,
+ An' down frae the bauks, flat 's a flounder,
+ Flew like a shot starn frae the lift!
+
+
+
+
+MY DEAR LITTLE LASSIE.
+
+
+ My dear little lassie, why, what 's a' the matter?
+ My heart it gangs pittypat--winna lie still;
+ I 've waited, and waited, an' a' to grow better,
+ Yet, lassie, believe me, I 'm aye growin' ill!
+ My head 's turn'd quite dizzy, an' aft, when I 'm speakin',
+ I sigh, an' am breathless, and fearfu' to speak;
+ I gaze aye for something I fain would be seekin',
+ Yet, lassie, I kenna weel what I would seek.
+
+ Thy praise, bonnie lassie, I ever could hear of,
+ And yet, when to ruse ye the neebour lads try--
+ Though it 's a' true they tell ye--yet never sae far off
+ I could see 'em ilk ane, an' I canna tell why.
+ When we tedded the hayfield, I raked ilka rig o't,
+ And never grew weary the lang simmer day;
+ The rucks that ye wrought at were easiest biggit,
+ And I fand sweeter scented around ye the hay.
+
+ In har'st, whan the kirn-supper joys mak us cheerie,
+ 'Mang the lave o' the lasses I preed yer sweet mou';
+ Dear save us! how queer I felt whan I cam' near ye--
+ My breast thrill'd in rapture, I couldna tell how.
+ When we dance at the gloamin', it 's you I aye pitch on;
+ And gin ye gang by me, how dowie I be!
+ There 's something, dear lassie, about ye bewitching,
+ That tells me my happiness centres in thee.
+
+
+
+
+JAMES MONTGOMERY.
+
+
+James Montgomery, the spiritual character of whose writings has gained
+him the honourable designation of the Christian Poet, was born at
+Irvine, in the county of Ayr, on the 4th of November 1771. His father,
+John Montgomery, was a missionary of the Moravian Brethren, and in this
+capacity came to Irvine from Ireland, only a few days before the birth
+of James, his eldest son. In his fourth year he returned to Ireland with
+his parents, and received the rudiments of his education from the
+village schoolmaster of Grace Hill, a settlement of the Moravian
+Brethren in the county of Antrim. In October 1777, in his seventh year,
+he was placed by his father in the seminary of the Moravian settlement
+of Fulneck, near Leeds; and on the departure of his parents to the West
+Indies, in 1783, he was committed to the care of the Brethren, with the
+view of his being trained for their Church. He was not destined to see
+his parents again. His mother died at Barbadoes, in November 1790, and
+his father after an interval of eight months.
+
+In consequence of his indolent habits, which were incorrigible, young
+Montgomery was removed from the seminary at Fulneck, and placed in the
+shop of a baker at Mirfield, in the vicinity. He was then in his
+sixteenth year; and having already afforded evidence of a refined
+taste, both in poetry and music, though careless of the ordinary routine
+of scholastic instruction, his new occupation was altogether uncongenial
+to his feelings. He, however, remained about eighteen months in the
+baker's service, but at length made a hasty escape from Mirfield, with
+only three shillings and sixpence in his pocket, and seemingly without
+any scheme except that of relieving himself from an irksome employment.
+But an accidental circumstance speedily enabled him to obtain an
+engagement with a shopkeeper in Wath, now a station on the railway
+between London and Leeds; and in procuring this employment, he was
+indebted to the recommendation of his former master, whose service he
+had unceremoniously quitted. But this new situation had few advantages
+over the old, and he relinquished it in about a year to try his fortune
+in the metropolis. He had previously sent a manuscript volume of poetry
+to Harrison, the bookseller of Paternoster Row, who, while declining to
+publish it, commended the author's talents, and so far promoted his
+views as now to receive him into his establishment. But Montgomery's
+aspirations had no reference to serving behind a counter; he only
+accepted a place in the bookseller's establishment that he might have an
+opportunity of leisurely feeling his way as an author. His literary
+efforts, however, still proved fruitless. He composed essays and tales,
+and wrote a romance in the manner of Fielding, but none of his
+productions could find a publisher. Mortified by his failures, he
+quitted London in eight months, and returned to the shop of his former
+employer at Wath. After the interval of another year, he proceeded to
+Sheffield, to occupy a situation under Mr Joseph Gales, a bookseller,
+and the proprietor of the _Register_ newspaper.
+
+Montgomery was now in his twenty-first year, and fortune at length
+began, though with many lowering intervals, to smile upon his youthful
+aspirations. Though he occupied a subordinate post in Mr Gales'
+establishment, his literary services were accepted for the _Register_,
+in which he published many of his earlier compositions, both in prose
+and verse. This journal had advocated sentiments of an ultra-liberal
+order, and commanding a wide circulation and a powerful influence among
+the operatives in Sheffield, had been narrowly inspected by the
+authorities. At length the proprietor fell into the snare of
+sympathising in the transactions of the French revolutionists; he was
+prosecuted for sedition, and deemed himself only safe from compulsory
+exile by a voluntary exit to America. This event took place about two
+years after Montgomery's first connexion with Sheffield, and he had now
+reverted to his former condition of abject dependence unless for a
+fortunate occurrence. This was no less than his being appointed
+joint-proprietor and editor of the newspaper by a wealthy individual,
+who, noticing the abilities of the young shopman, purchased the
+copyright with the view of placing the management entirely in his hands.
+
+The first number of the newspaper under the poet's care, the name being
+changed to that of _The Sheffield Iris_, appeared in July 1794; and
+though the principles of the journal were moderate and conciliatory in
+comparison with the democratic sentiments espoused by the former
+publisher, the jealous eye of the authorities rested on its new
+conductor. He did not escape their vigilance; for the simple offence of
+printing for a ballad-vender some verses of a song celebrating the fall
+of the Bastile, he was libelled as "a wicked, malicious, seditious, and
+evil-disposed person;" and being tried before the Doncaster Quarter
+Sessions, in January 1795, was sentenced to three months' imprisonment
+in the Castle of York. He was condemned to a second imprisonment of six
+months in the autumn of the same year, for inserting in his paper an
+account of a riot in the place, in which he was considered to have cast
+aspersions on a colonel of volunteers. The calm mind of the poet did not
+sink under these persecutions, and some of his best lyrics were composed
+during the period of his latter confinement. During his first detention
+he wrote a series of interesting essays for his newspaper. His "Prison
+Amusements," a series of beautiful pieces, appeared in 1797. In 1805, he
+published his poem, "The Ocean;" in 1806, "The Wanderer in Switzerland;"
+in 1808, "The West Indies;" and in 1812, "The World before the Flood."
+In 1819 he published "Greenland, a Poem, in Five Cantos;" and in 1825
+appeared "The Pelican Island, and other Poems." Of all those
+productions, "The Wanderer in Switzerland" attained the widest
+circulation; and, notwithstanding an unfavourable and injudicious
+criticism in the _Edinburgh Review_, at once procured an honourable
+place for the author among his contemporaries. He became sole proprietor
+of the _Iris_ in one year after his being connected with it, and he
+continued to conduct this paper till September 1825, when he retired
+from public duty. He subsequently contributed articles for different
+periodicals; but he chiefly devoted himself to the moral and religious
+improvement of his fellow-townsmen. A pension of L150 on the civil list
+was conferred upon him as an acknowledgment of his services in behalf of
+literature and of philanthropy; a well-merited public boon which for
+many years he was spared to enjoy. He died at his residence, The Mount,
+Sheffield, on the 30th of April 1854, in the eighty-second year of his
+age. He bequeathed handsome legacies to various public charities. His
+Poetical Works, in a collected form, were published in 1850 by the
+Messrs Longman, in one octavo volume; and in 1853 he gave to the world
+his last work, being "Original Hymns, for Public, Private, and Social
+Devotion." Copious memoirs of his life are now in the course of
+publication.
+
+As a poet, Montgomery is conspicuous for the smoothness of his
+versification, and for the fervent piety pervading all his compositions.
+As a man, he was gentle and conciliatory, and was remarkable as a
+generous promoter of benevolent institutions. The general tendency of
+his poems was thus indicated by himself, in the course of an address
+which he made at a public dinner, given him at Sheffield, in November
+1825, immediately after the toast of his health being proposed by the
+chairman, Lord Viscount Milton, now Earl Fitzwilliam:--
+
+ "I sang of war--but it was the war of freedom, in which death was
+ preferred to chains. I sang the abolition of the slave trade, that
+ most glorious decree of the British Legislature at any period since
+ the Revolution, by the first Parliament in which you, my Lord, sat
+ as the representative of Yorkshire. Oh, how should I rejoice to
+ sing the abolition of slavery itself by some Parliament of which
+ your Lordship shall yet be a member! This greater act of righteous
+ legislation is surely not too remote to be expected even in our own
+ day. Renouncing the slave trade was only 'ceasing to do evil;'
+ extinguishing slavery will be 'learning to do well.' Again, I sang
+ of love--the love of country, the love of my own country; for,
+
+ 'Next to heaven above,
+ Land of my fathers! thee I love;
+ And, rail thy slanderers as they will,
+ With all thy faults I love thee still.'
+
+ I sang, likewise, the love of home--its charities, endearments and
+ relationships--all that makes 'Home sweet Home,' the recollection
+ of which, when the air of that name was just now played from yonder
+ gallery, warmed every heart throughout this room into quicker
+ pulsations. I sang the love which man ought to bear towards his
+ brother, of every kindred, and country, and clime upon earth. I
+ sang the love of virtue, which elevates man to his true standard
+ under heaven. I sang, too, the love of God, who _is_ love. Nor did
+ I sing in vain. I found readers and listeners, especially among the
+ young, the fair, and the devout; and as youth, beauty, and piety
+ will not soon cease out of the land, I may expect to be remembered
+ through another generation at least, if I leave anything behind me
+ worthy of remembrance. I may add that, from every part of the
+ British empire, from every quarter of the world where our language
+ is spoken--from America, the East and West Indies, from New
+ Holland, and the South Sea Islands themselves--I have received
+ testimonies of approbation from all ranks and degrees of readers,
+ hailing what I had done, and cheering me forward. I allude not to
+ criticisms and eulogiums from the press, but to voluntary
+ communications from unknown correspondents, coming to me like
+ voices out of darkness, and giving intimation of that which the ear
+ of a poet is always hearkening onward to catch--the voice of
+ posterity."
+
+
+
+
+"FRIENDSHIP, LOVE, AND TRUTH."
+
+
+ When "Friendship, Love, and Truth" abound
+ Among a band of brothers,
+ The cup of joy goes gaily round,
+ Each shares the bliss of others.
+ Sweet roses grace the thorny way
+ Along this vale of sorrow;
+ The flowers that shed their leaves to-day
+ Shall bloom again to-morrow.
+ How grand in age, how fair in youth,
+ Are holy "Friendship, Love, and Truth!"
+
+ On halcyon wings our moments pass,
+ Life's cruel cares beguiling;
+ Old Time lays down his scythe and glass,
+ In gay good-humour smiling:
+ With ermine beard and forelock gray,
+ His reverend part adorning,
+ He looks like Winter turn'd to May,
+ Night soften'd into Morning.
+ How grand in age, how fair in youth,
+ Are holy "Friendship, Love, and Truth!"
+
+ From these delightful fountains flow
+ Ambrosial rills of pleasure;
+ Can man desire, can Heaven bestow,
+ A more resplendent treasure?
+ Adorn'd with gems so richly bright,
+ Will form a constellation,
+ Where every star, with modest light,
+ Shall gild its proper station.
+ How grand in age, how fair in youth,
+ Are holy "Friendship, Love, and Truth!"
+
+
+
+
+THE SWISS COWHERD'S SONG IN A FOREIGN LAND.
+
+IMITATED FROM THE FRENCH.
+
+
+ Oh, when shall I visit the land of my birth--
+ The loveliest land on the face of the earth?
+ When shall I those scenes of affection explore,
+ Our forests, our fountains,
+ Our hamlets, our mountains,
+ With pride of our mountains, the maid I adore?
+ Oh, when shall I dance on the daisy-white mead,
+ In the shade of an elm, to the sound of a reed?
+
+ When shall I return to that lowly retreat,
+ Where all my fond objects of tenderness meet,--
+ The lambs and the heifers, that follow my call,
+ My father, my mother,
+ My sister, my brother,
+ And dear Isabella, the joy of them all?
+ Oh, when shall I visit the land of my birth?--
+ 'Tis the loveliest land on the face of the earth.
+
+
+
+
+GERMAN WAR-SONG.[69]
+
+
+ Heaven speed the righteous sword,
+ And freedom be the word;
+ Come, brethren, hand in hand,
+ Fight for your fatherland.
+
+ Germania from afar
+ Invokes her sons to war;
+ Awake! put forth your powers,
+ And victory must be ours.
+
+ On to the combat, on!
+ Go where your sires have gone;
+ Their might unspent remains,
+ Their pulse is in our veins.
+
+ On to the battle, on!
+ Rest will be sweet anon;
+ The slave may yield, may fly,--
+ We conquer, or we die!
+
+ O Liberty! thy form
+ Shines through the battle-storm.
+ Away with fear, away!
+ Let justice win the day.
+
+
+[69] The simple and sublime original of these stanzas, with the fine air
+by Huemmel, became the national song of Germany, and was sung by the
+soldiers especially, during the latter campaigns of the war, when
+Buonaparte was twice dethroned, and Europe finally delivered from French
+predominance.
+
+
+
+
+VIA CRUCIS, VIA LUCIS.
+
+
+ Night turns to day:--
+ When sullen darkness lowers,
+ And heaven and earth are hid from sight,
+ Cheer up, cheer up;
+ Ere long the opening flowers,
+ With dewy eyes, shall shine in light.
+
+ Storms die in calms:--
+ When over land and ocean
+ Roll the loud chariots of the wind,
+ Cheer up, cheer up;
+ The voice of wild commotion,
+ Proclaims tranquillity behind.
+
+ Winter wakes spring:--
+ When icy blasts are blowing
+ O'er frozen lakes, through naked trees,
+ Cheer up, cheer up;
+ All beautiful and glowing,
+ May floats in fragrance on the breeze.
+
+ War ends in peace:--
+ Though dread artillery rattle,
+ And ghostly corses load the ground,
+ Cheer up, cheer up;
+ Where groan'd the field of battle,
+ The song, the dance, the feast, go round.
+
+ Toil brings repose:--
+ With noontide fervours beating,
+ When droop thy temples o'er thy breast,
+ Cheer up, cheer up;
+ Gray twilight, cool and fleeting,
+ Wafts on its wing the hour of rest.
+
+ Death springs to life:--
+ Though brief and sad thy story,
+ Thy years all spent in care and gloom,
+ Look up, look up;
+ Eternity and glory
+ Dawn through the portals of the tomb.
+
+
+
+
+VERSES TO A ROBIN RED-BREAST,
+WHICH VISITS THE WINDOW OF MY PRISON EVERY DAY.
+
+
+ Welcome, pretty little stranger!
+ Welcome to my lone retreat!
+ Here, secure from every danger,
+ Hop about, and chirp, and eat:
+ Robin! how I envy thee,
+ Happy child of Liberty!
+
+ Now, though tyrant Winter, howling,
+ Shakes the world with tempests round,
+ Heaven above with vapours scowling,
+ Frost imprisons all the ground:
+ Robin! what are these to thee?
+ Thou art bless'd with liberty.
+
+ Though yon fair majestic river[70]
+ Mourns in solid icy chains,
+ Though yon flocks and cattle shiver
+ On the desolated plains:
+ Robin! thou art gay and free,
+ Happy in thy liberty.
+
+ Hunger never shall disturb thee,
+ While my rates one crumb afford;
+ Colds nor cramps shall ne'er oppress thee;
+ Come and share my humble board:
+ Robin! come and live with me--
+ Live, yet still at liberty.
+
+ Soon shall Spring, in smiles and blushes,
+ Steal upon the blooming year;
+ Then, amid the enamour'd bushes,
+ Thy sweet song shall warble clear:
+ Then shall I, too, join with thee--
+ Swell the hymn of Liberty.
+
+ Should some rough, unfeeling dobbin,
+ In this iron-hearted age,
+ Seize thee on thy nest, my Robin,
+ And confine thee in a cage,
+ Then, poor prisoner! think of me--
+ Think, and sigh for liberty.
+
+
+[70] The Ouse.
+
+
+
+
+SLAVERY THAT WAS.
+
+
+ Ages, ages have departed,
+ Since the first dark vessel bore
+ Afric's children, broken-hearted,
+ To the Caribbean shore;
+ She, like Rachel,
+ Weeping, for they were no more.
+
+ Millions, millions, have been slaughter'd,
+ In the fight and on the deep;
+ Millions, millions more have water'd,
+ With such tears as captives weep,
+ Fields of travail,
+ Where their bones till doomsday sleep.
+
+ Mercy, Mercy, vainly pleading,
+ Rent her garments, smote her breast,
+ Till a voice from Heaven proceeding,
+ Gladden'd all the gloomy west,--
+ "Come, ye weary,
+ Come, and I will give you rest!"
+
+ Tidings, tidings of salvation!
+ Britons rose with one accord,
+ Purged the plague-spot from our nation,
+ Negroes to their rights restored;
+ Slaves no longer,
+ _Freemen,--freemen_ of the _Lord_.
+
+
+
+
+ANDREW SCOTT.
+
+
+Andrew Scott, known as the author of the popular ballad of "Symon and
+Janet," has claims to a wider reputation. He was born of humble
+parentage, in the parish of Bowden, Roxburghshire, in the year 1757. He
+was early employed as a cowherd; and he has recorded, in a sketch of his
+own life prefixed to one of his volumes, that he began to compose verses
+on the hill-sides in his twelfth year. He ascribes this juvenile
+predilection to the perusal of Ramsay's "Gentle Shepherd," a pamphlet
+copy of which he had purchased with some spare halfpence. Towards the
+close of the American war, he joined the army as a recruit, and soon
+thereafter followed his regiment across the Atlantic. His rhyming
+propensities continued; and he occupied his leisure hours in composing
+verses, which he read for the amusement of his comrades. At the
+conclusion of the American campaigns, he returned with the army to
+Britain; and afterwards procuring his discharge, he made a settlement in
+his native parish. For the period of seventeen years, according to his
+own narrative, he abandoned the cultivation of poetry, assiduously
+applying himself to manual labour for the support of his family. An
+intelligent acquaintance, who had procured copies of some of his
+verses, now recommended him to attempt a publication--a counsel which
+induced him to print a small volume by subscription. This appeared in
+1805, and was reprinted, with several additions, in 1808. In 1811 he
+published "Poems, chiefly in the Scottish Dialect," Kelso, 18mo; another
+duodecimo volume of poems, at Jedburgh, in 1821; and his last work,
+entitled "Poems on Various Subjects," at Edinburgh, in 1826. This last
+volume was inscribed, with permission, to the Duchess of Roxburghe.
+
+The poet's social condition at Bowden was little favourable to the
+composition of poetry. Situated on the south side of the Eildon hills,
+the parish is entirely separated from the busy world, and the
+inhabitants were formerly proverbial for their rustic simplicity and
+ignorance. The encouragement desiderated at home, the poet, however,
+experienced elsewhere. He visited Melrose, at the easy distance of two
+miles, on the day of the weekly market, and there met with friends and
+patrons from different parts of the district. The late Duke of
+Roxburghe, Sir Walter Scott, Mr Baillie of Jerviswoode, Mr John Gibson
+Lockhart, and Mr G. P. R. James, the novelist, who sometimes resided in
+the neighbourhood, and other persons of rank or literary eminence,
+extended towards him countenance and assistance.
+
+Scott shared the indigent lot of poets. He remained in the condition of
+an agricultural labourer, and for many years held the office of beadle,
+or church-officer, of the parish. He died on the 22d of May 1839, in the
+eighty-second year of his age; and his remains were interred in the
+churchyard of Bowden, where his name is inscribed on a gravestone which
+he had erected to the memory of his wife. His eldest son holds the
+office of schoolmaster of that parish.
+
+The personal appearance of the bard appears to have been prepossessing:
+his countenance wore a highly intellectual aspect. Subsequent to the
+publication of the first volume of his poems, he was requested to sit
+for his portrait by the late Mr George Watson, the well-known
+portrait-painter; and who was so well satisfied with the excellence of
+his subject, that he exhibited the portrait for a lengthened period in
+his studio. It is now in the possession of the author's son at Bowden,
+and has been pronounced a masterpiece of art. A badly executed engraving
+from it is prefixed to Scott's last two volumes. In manner, the poet was
+modest and unassuming, and his utterance was slow and defective. The
+songs selected for this work may be regarded as the most favourable
+specimens of his muse.[71]
+
+
+[71] We have to acknowledge our obligations for several particulars of
+this sketch to Mr Robert Bower, Melrose, the author of a volume of
+"Ballads and Lyrics," published at Edinburgh in 1853.
+
+
+
+
+RURAL CONTENT; OR, THE MUIRLAND FARMER.
+
+AIR--_"The Rock and the Wee Pickle Tow."_
+
+
+ I 'm now a guid farmer, I 've acres o' land,
+ And my heart aye loups light when I 'm viewing o't,
+ And I hae servants at my command,
+ And twa dainty cowts for the plowin' o't.
+ My farm is a snug ane, lies high on a muir,
+ The muircocks and plivers aft skirl at my door,
+ And whan the sky low'rs I 'm aye sure o' a show'r,
+ To moisten my land for the plowin' o't.
+
+ Leeze me on the mailin that 's fa'n to my share,
+ It taks sax muckle bowes for the sawin' o't;
+ I 've sax braid acres for pasture, and mair,
+ And a dainty bit bog for the mawin' o't.
+ A spence and a kitchen my mansionhouse gies,
+ I 've a cantie wee wifie to daut whan I please,
+ Twa bairnies, twa callans, that skelp o'er the leas,
+ And they 'll soon can assist at the plowin' o't.
+
+ My biggin' stands sweet on this south slopin' hill,
+ And the sun shines sae bonnily beamin' on 't,
+ And past my door trots a clear prattlin' rill,
+ Frae the loch, whare the wild-ducks are swimmin' o't;
+ And on its green banks, on the gay simmer days,
+ My wifie trips barefoot, a-bleachin' her claes,
+ And on the dear creature wi' rapture I gaze,
+ While I whistle and sing at the plowin' o't.
+
+ To rank amang farmers I hae muckle pride,
+ But I mauna speak high when I 'm tellin' o't,
+ How brawlie I strut on my shelty to ride,
+ Wi' a sample to shew for the sellin' o't.
+ In blue worset boots that my auld mither span,
+ I 've aft been fu' vanty sin' I was a man,
+ But now they 're flung by, and I 've bought cordivan,
+ And my wifie ne'er grudged me a shillin' o't.
+
+ Sae now, whan to kirk or to market I gae--
+ My weelfare what need I be hiddin' o't?--
+ In braw leather boots shinin' black as the slae,
+ I dink me to try the ridin' o't.
+ Last towmond I sell'd off four bowes o' guid bear,
+ And thankfu' I was, for the victual was dear,
+ And I came hame wi' spurs on my heels shinin' clear,
+ I had sic good luck at the sellin' o't.
+
+ Now hairst time is o'er, and a fig for the laird,
+ My rent 's now secure for the toilin' o't;
+ My fields are a' bare, and my crap 's in the yard,
+ And I 'm nae mair in doubts o' the spoilin' o't.
+ Now welcome gude weather, or wind, or come weet,
+ Or bauld ragin' winter, wi' hail, snaw, or sleet,
+ Nae mair can he draigle my crap 'mang his feet,
+ Nor wraik his mischief, and be spoilin' o't.
+
+ And on the douf days, whan loud hurricanes blaw,
+ Fu' snug i' the spence I 'll be viewin' o't,
+ And jink the rude blast in my rush-theekit ha',
+ Whan fields are seal'd up from the plowin' o't.
+ My bonny wee wifie, the bairnies, and me,
+ The peat-stack, and turf-stack our Phoebus shall be,
+ Till day close the scoul o' its angry ee,
+ And we 'll rest in gude hopes o' the plowin' o't.
+
+ And whan the year smiles, and the lavrocks sing,
+ My man Jock and me shall be doin' o't;
+ He 'll thrash, and I 'll toil on the fields in the spring,
+ And turn up the soil at the plowin' o't.
+ And whan the wee flow'rets begin then to blaw,
+ The lavrock, the peasweep, and skirlin' pickmaw,
+ Shall hiss the bleak winter to Lapland awa,
+ Then we 'll ply the blythe hours at the sawin' o't.
+
+ And whan the birds sing on the sweet simmer morn,
+ My new crap I 'll keek at the growin' o't;
+ Whan hares niffer love 'mang the green-bairdit corn,
+ And dew draps the tender blade shewin' o't,
+ On my brick o' fallow my labours I 'll ply,
+ And view on their pasture my twa bonny kye,
+ Till hairst-time again circle round us wi' joy,
+ Wi' the fruits o' the sawin' and plowin' o't.
+
+ Nor need I to envy our braw gentle focks,
+ Wha fash na their thumbs wi' the sawing o't,
+ Nor e'er slip their fine silken hands in the pocks,
+ Nor foul their black shoon wi' the plowin' o't:
+ For, pleased wi' the little that fortune has lent,
+ The seasons row round us in rural content;
+ We 've aye milk and meal, and our laird gets his rent,
+ And I whistle and sing at the plowin' o't.
+
+
+
+
+SYMON AND JANET.
+
+AIR--_"Fy, let us a' to the Bridal."_
+
+
+ Surrounded wi' bent and wi' heather,
+ Whare muircocks and plivers are rife,
+ For mony lang towmond thegither,
+ There lived an auld man and his wife.
+
+ About the affairs o' the nation,
+ The twasome they seldom were mute;
+ Bonaparte, the French, and invasion,
+ Did saur in their wizens like soot.
+
+ In winter, when deep are the gutters,
+ And night's gloomy canopy spread,
+ Auld Symon sat luntin' his cuttie,
+ And lowsin' his buttons for bed.
+
+ Auld Janet, his wife, out a-gazin',
+ To lock in the door was her care;
+ She seein' our signals a-blazin',
+ Came runnin' in, rivin' her hair.
+
+ "O Symon, the Frenchmen are landit!
+ Gae look man, and slip on your shoon;
+ Our signals I see them extendit,
+ Like red risin' blaze o' the moon!"
+
+ "What plague, the French landit!" quo' Symon,
+ And clash gaed his pipe to the wa',
+ "Faith, then there's be loadin' and primin',"
+ Quo' he, "if they 're landit ava.
+
+ "Our youngest son 's in the militia,
+ Our eldest grandson 's volunteer:
+ O' the French to be fu' o' the flesh o',
+ I too in the ranks shall appear."
+
+ His waistcoat pouch fill'd he wi' pouther,
+ And bang'd down his rusty auld gun;
+ His bullets he put in the other,
+ That he for the purpose had run.
+
+ Then humpled he out in a hurry,
+ While Janet his courage bewails,
+ And cried out, "Dear Symon, be wary!"
+ And teughly she hang by his tails.
+
+ "Let be wi' your kindness," quo' Symon,
+ "Nor vex me wi' tears and your cares,
+ For now to be ruled by a woman,
+ Nae laurels shall crown my gray hairs."
+
+ Quo' Janet, "Oh, keep frae the riot!
+ Last night, man, I dreamt ye was dead;
+ This aught days I tentit a pyot
+ Sit chatt'rin' upo' the house-head.
+
+ "And yesterday, workin' my stockin',
+ And you wi' the sheep on the hill,
+ A muckle black corbie sat croakin';
+ I kend it foreboded some ill."
+
+ "Hout, cheer up, dear Janet, be hearty,
+ For ere the next sun may gae down,
+ Wha kens but I 'll shoot Bonaparte,
+ And end my auld days in renown?"
+
+ "Then hear me," quo' Janet, "I pray thee,
+ I 'll tend thee, love, living or dead,
+ And if thou should fa' I 'll die wi' thee,
+ Or tie up thy wounds if thou bleed."
+
+ Syne aff in a fury he stumpled,
+ Wi' bullets, and pouther, and gun;
+ At 's curpin auld Janet too humpled,
+ Awa to the next neighb'rin' town.
+
+ There footmen and yeomen paradin',
+ To scour aff in dirdum were seen,
+ Auld wives and young lasses a-sheddin'
+ The briny saut tears frae their een.
+
+ Then aff wi' his bannet gat Symon,
+ And to the commander he gaes;
+ Quo' he, "Sir, I mean to gae wi' ye, man,
+ And help ye to lounder our faes.
+
+ "I 'm auld, yet I 'm teugh as the wire,
+ Sae we 'll at the rogues have a dash,
+ And, fegs, if my gun winna fire,
+ I 'll turn her butt-end, and I 'll thrash."
+
+ "Well spoken, my hearty old hero,"
+ The captain did smiling reply,
+ But begg'd he wad stay till to-morrow,
+ Till daylight should glent in the sky.
+
+ Whatreck, a' the stour cam to naething;
+ Sae Symon, and Janet his dame,
+ Hale skart frae the wars, without skaithing,
+ Gaed bannin' the French again hame.
+
+
+
+
+COQUET WATER.
+
+AIR--_"Braw Lads of Gala Water."_
+
+
+ Whan winter winds forget to blaw,
+ An' vernal suns revive pale nature,
+ A shepherd lad by chance I saw,
+ Feeding his flocks by Coquet water.
+
+ Saft, saft he sung, in melting lays,
+ His Mary's charms an' matchless feature,
+ While echoes answer'd frae the braes,
+ That skirt the banks of Coquet water.
+
+ "Oh, were that bonnie lassie mine,"
+ Quoth he, "in love's saft wiles I'd daut her;
+ An' deem mysel' as happy syne,
+ As landit laird on Coquet water.
+
+ "Let wealthy rakes for pleasure roam,
+ In foreign lands their fortune fritter;
+ But love's pure joys be mine at home,
+ Wi' my dear lass on Coquet water.
+
+ "Gie fine focks wealth, yet what care I,
+ Gie me her smiles whom I lo'e better;
+ Blest wi' her love an' life's calm joy,
+ Tending my flocks by Coquet water.
+
+ "Flow fair an' clear, thou bonnie stream,
+ For on thy banks aft hae I met her;
+ Fair may the bonnie wild-flowers gleam,
+ That busk the banks of Coquet water."
+
+
+
+
+THE YOUNG MAID'S WISH FOR PEACE.
+
+AIR--_"Far frae Hame," &c._
+
+
+ Fain wad I, fain wad I hae the bloody wars to cease,
+ An' the nations restored again to unity an' peace;
+ Then mony a bonnie laddie, that 's now far owre the sea,
+ Wad return to his lassie, an' his ain countrie.
+
+ My lad was call'd awa for to cross the stormy main,
+ An' to face the battle's bray in the cause of injured Spain;
+ But in my love's departure hard fate has injured me,
+ That has reft him frae my arms, an' his ain countrie.
+
+ When he bade me adieu, oh! my heart was like to break,
+ An' the parting tear dropp'd down for my dear laddie's sake;
+ Kind Heavens protect my Willie, wherever he be,
+ An' restore him to my arms, an' his ain countrie.
+
+ Yes, may the fates defend him upon that hostile shore,
+ Amid the rage of battle, where thund'ring cannons roar;
+ In the sad hour of danger, when deadly bullets flee,
+ Far frae the peacefu' plains of his ain countrie.
+
+ Wae 's me, that vice had proven the source of blood an' war,
+ An' sawn amang the nations the seeds of feud an' jar:
+ But it was cruel Cain, an' his grim posterity,
+ First began the bloody wark in their ain countrie.
+
+ An' oh! what widows weep, an' helpless orphans cry!
+ On a far foreign shore now, the dear, dear ashes lie,
+ Whose life-blood stain'd the gowans of some far foreign lea,
+ Far frae their kith an' kin, an' their ain countrie.
+
+ Hail the day, speed the day, then, when a' the wars are done!
+ An' may ilk British laddie return wi' laurels won;
+ On my dear Willie's brows may they flourish bonnily,
+ An' be wi' the myrtle twined in his ain countrie.
+
+ But I hope the time is near, when sweet peace her olive wand
+ To lay the fiend of war shall soon stretch o'er every land,
+ When swords turn'd into ploughshares and pruning-hooks shall be,
+ An' the nations a' live happy in their ain countrie.
+
+
+
+
+THE FIDDLER'S WIDOW.
+
+
+ There was a musician wha play'd a good stick,
+ He had a sweet wife an' a fiddle,
+ An' in his profession he had right good luck
+ At bridals his elbow to diddle.
+
+ But ah! the poor fiddler soon chanced to die,
+ As a' men to dust must return;
+ An' the poor widow cried, wi' the tear in her e'e,
+ That as lang as she lived she wad mourn.
+
+ Alane by the hearth she disconsolate sat,
+ Lamenting the day that she saw,
+ An' aye as she look'd on the fiddle she grat,
+ That silent now hang on the wa'.
+
+ Fair shane the red rose on the young widow's cheek,
+ Sae newly weel washen wi' tears,
+ As in came a younker some comfort to speak,
+ Wha whisper'd fond love in her ears.
+
+ "Dear lassie," he cried, "I am smit wi' your charms,
+ Consent but to marry me now,
+ I 'm as good as ever laid hair upon thairms,
+ An' I 'll cheer baith the fiddle an' you."
+
+ The young widow blush'd, but sweet smiling she said,
+ "Dear sir, to dissemble I hate,
+ If we twa thegither are doom'd to be wed,
+ Folks needna contend against fate."
+
+ He took down the fiddle as dowie it hung,
+ An' put a' the thairms in tune,
+ The young widow dighted her cheeks an' she sung,
+ For her heart lap her sorrows aboon.
+
+ Now sound sleep the dead in his cauld bed o' clay,
+ For death still the dearest maun sever;
+ For now he 's forgot, an' his widow's fu' gay,
+ An' his fiddle 's as merry as ever.
+
+
+
+
+LAMENT FOR THE DEATH OF AN IRISH CHIEF.
+
+
+ He 's no more on the green hill, he has left the wide forest,
+ Whom, sad by the lone rill, thou, loved dame, deplorest:
+ We saw in his dim eye the beam of life quiver,
+ Its bright orb to light again no more for ever.
+
+ Loud twang'd thy bow, mighty youth, in the foray,
+ Dread gleam'd thy brand in the proud field of glory;
+ And when heroes sat round in the Psalter of Tara,
+ His counsel was sage as was fatal his arrow.
+
+ When in war's loud commotion the hostile Dane landed,
+ Or seen on the ocean with white sail expanded,
+ Like thee, swoll'n stream, down our steep vale that roarest,
+ Fierce was the chieftain that harass'd them sorest.
+
+ Proud stem of our ancient line, nipt while in budding,
+ Like sweet flowers' too early gem spring-fields bestudding,
+ Our noble pine 's fall'n, that waved on our mountain,--
+ Our mighty rock dash'd from the brink of our fountain.
+
+ Our lady is lonely, our halls are deserted--
+ The mighty is fallen, our hope is departed--
+ Loud wail for the fate from our clan that did sever,
+ Whom we shall behold again no more for ever.
+
+
+
+
+THE DEPARTURE OF SUMMER.
+
+
+ Adieu, lovely Summer! I see thee declining,
+ I sigh, for thy exit is near;
+ Thy once glowing beauties by Autumn are pining,
+ Who now presses hard on thy rear.
+
+ The late blowing flowers now thy pale cheek adorning,
+ Droop sick as they nod on the lea;
+ The groves, too, are silent, no minstrel of morning
+ Shrill warbles his song from the tree.
+
+ Aurora peeps silent, and sighs a lorn widow,
+ No warbler to lend her a lay,
+ No more the shrill lark quits the dew-spangled meadow,
+ As wont for to welcome the day.
+
+ Sage Autumn sits sad now on hill, dale, and valley,
+ Each landscape how pensive its mien!
+ They languish, they languish! I see them fade daily,
+ And losing their liv'ry of green.
+
+ O Virtue, come waft me on thy silken pinions,
+ To where purer streamlets still flow,
+ Where summer, unceasing, pervades thy dominions,
+ Nor stormy bleak wint'ry winds blow.
+
+
+
+
+SIR WALTER SCOTT, BART.
+
+
+Sir Walter Scott, the most chivalrous of Scottish poets, and the most
+illustrious of British novelists, was born in Edinburgh, on the 15th of
+August 1771. His father, Walter Scott, Writer to the Signet, was
+descended from a younger branch of the baronial house of the Scotts of
+Harden, of which Lord Polwarth is the present representative. On his
+mother's side his progenitors were likewise highly respectable: his
+maternal grandfather, Dr John Rutherford, was Professor of the Practice
+of Physic in the University of Edinburgh, and his mother's brother, Dr
+Daniel Rutherford, an eminent chemist, afterwards occupied the chair of
+Botany. His mother was a person of a vigorous and cultivated mind. Of a
+family of twelve children, born to his parents, six of whom survived
+infancy, Walter only evinced the possession of the uncommon attribute of
+genius. He was born a healthy child, but soon after became exposed to
+serious peril by being some time tended by a consumptive nurse. When
+scarcely two years old he was seized with an illness which deprived him
+of the proper use of his right limb, a loss which continued during his
+life. With the view of retrieving his strength, he was sent to reside
+with his paternal grandfather, Robert Scott, who rented the farm of
+Sandyknowe, in the vicinity of Smailholm Tower, in Roxburghshire.
+Shortly after his arrival at Sandyknowe, he narrowly escaped destruction
+through the frantic desperation of a maniac attendant; but he had
+afterwards to congratulate himself on being enabled to form an early
+acquaintance with rural scenes. No advantage accruing to his lameness,
+he was, in his fourth year, removed to Bath, where he remained twelve
+months, without experiencing benefit from the mineral waters. During the
+three following years he chiefly resided at Sandyknowe. In his eighth
+year he returned to Edinburgh, with his mind largely stored with border
+legends, chiefly derived from the recitations of his grandmother, a
+person of a romantic inclination and sprightly intelligence. At this
+period, Pope's translation of Homer, and the more amusing songs in
+Ramsay's "Evergreen," were his favourite studies; and he took delight in
+reading aloud, with suitable emphasis, the more striking passages, or
+verses, to his mother, who sought every incentive to stimulate his
+native propensity. In 1778 he was sent to the High School, where he
+possessed the advantage of instruction under Mr Luke Fraser, an able
+scholar, and Dr Adam, the distinguished rector. His progress in
+scholarship was not equal to his talents; he was already a devotee to
+romance, and experienced greater gratification in retiring with a friend
+to some quiet spot in the country, to relate or to listen to a
+fictitious tale, than in giving his principal attention to the
+prescribed tasks of the schoolroom. As he became older, the love of
+miscellaneous literature, especially the works of the great masters of
+fiction, amounted to a passion; and as his memory was singularly
+tenacious, he accumulated a great extent and variety of miscellaneous
+information.
+
+On the completion of his attendance at the High School, he was sent to
+reside with some relations at Kelso; and in this interesting locality
+his growing attachment to the national minstrelsy and legendary lore
+received a fresh impulse. On his return to Edinburgh he entered the
+University, in which he matriculated as a student of Latin and Greek, in
+October 1793. His progress was not more marked than it had been at the
+High School, insomuch that Mr Dalziel, the professor of Greek, was
+induced to give public expression as to his hopeless incapacity. The
+professor fortunately survived to make ample compensation for the
+rashness of his prediction.
+
+The juvenile inclinations of the future poet were entirely directed to a
+military life; but his continued lameness interposed an insuperable
+difficulty, and was a source of deep mortification. He was at length
+induced to adopt a profession suitable to his physical capabilities,
+entering into indentures with his father in his fourteenth year. To his
+confinement at the desk, sufficiently irksome to a youth of his
+aspirations, he was chiefly reconciled by the consideration that his
+fees as a clerk enabled him to purchase books.
+
+Rapid growth in a constitution which continued delicate till he had
+attained his fifteenth year, led to his bursting a blood-vessel in the
+second year of his apprenticeship. While precluded from active duty,
+being closely confined to bed, and not allowed to exert himself by
+speaking, he was still allowed to read; a privilege which accelerated
+his acquaintance with general literature. To complete his recovery, he
+was recommended exercise on horseback; and in obeying the instructions
+of his physician, he gratified his own peculiar tastes by making himself
+generally familiar with localities and scenes famous in Scottish story.
+On the restoration of his health, he at length became seriously engaged
+in the study of law for several continuous years, and, after the
+requisite examinations, was admitted as an advocate, on the 10th of July
+1792, when on the point of attaining his twenty-first year.
+
+In his twelfth year, Scott had composed some verses for his preceptor
+and early friend Dr Adam, which afforded promise of his future
+excellence. But he seems not to have extensively indulged, in early
+life, in the composition of poetry, while his juvenile productions in
+prose wore a stiff formality. On being called to the bar, he at first
+carefully refrained, according to his own statement, from claiming the
+honour of authorship, lest his brethren or the public should suppose
+that his habits were unsuitable to a due attention to the duties of his
+profession. He was relieved of dependence on professional employment by
+espousing, in December 1797, Miss Carpenter, a young French gentlewoman,
+possessed of a considerable annuity, whose acquaintance he had formed at
+Gilsland, a watering-place in Cumberland. In 1800 he was appointed
+Sheriff of Selkirkshire, with a salary of L300 a year. While he
+continued in his father's office he had made himself familiar with the
+French and Italian languages, and had read many of their more celebrated
+authors, especially the writings of Tasso and Ariosto. Some years after
+he came to the bar, he was induced to acquaint himself with the ballad
+poetry of Germany, then in vogue, through the translations of Mr Lewis,
+whose friendship he had recently acquired. In 1796 he made his first
+adventure as an author by publishing translations of "Lenore," and "The
+Wild Huntsman" of Buerger. The attempt proved unsuccessful; but,
+undismayed, he again essayed his skill in translation by publishing, in
+1799, an English version of Goethe's "Goetz of Berlichingen." His
+success as an author was, however, destined to rest on original
+performances, illustrative of the chivalry of his own land.
+
+Towards the recovery and publication of the ancient ballads and songs of
+the Scottish borders, which had only been preserved by the recitations
+of the peasantry, Scott had early formed important intentions. The
+independence of his circumstances now enabled him to execute his
+long-cherished scheme. He made periodical excursions into Liddesdale, a
+wild pastoral district on the Scottish border, anciently peopled by the
+noted Elliots and Armstrongs, in quest of old ballads and traditions;
+and the fruits of his research, along with much curious information,
+partly communicated to him by intelligent correspondents, he gave to the
+world, in 1802, in two volumes octavo, under the title of "Minstrelsy of
+the Scottish Border." He added in the following year a third volume,
+consisting of imitations of ancient ballads, composed by himself and
+others. These volumes issued from the printing-press of his early friend
+and school-fellow, Mr James Ballantyne of Kelso, who had already begun
+to indicate that skill in typography for which he was afterwards so
+justly celebrated. In 1804 he published, from the Auchinleck Manuscript
+in the Advocates' Library, the ancient metrical tale of "Sir Tristrem;"
+and, in an elaborate introduction, he endeavoured to prove that it was
+the composition of Thomas of Ercildoune, better known as Thomas the
+Rhymer. He published in 1805 "The Lay of the Last Minstrel," an original
+ballad poem, which, speedily attaining a wide circulation, procured for
+him an extensive reputation, and the substantial reward of L600.
+
+The prosperity of the poet rose with his fame. In the year following
+that which produced the "Lay," he received his appointment as a
+principal clerk of the Court of Session, an office which afterwards
+brought him L1200 a-year. To literary occupation he now resolved to
+dedicate his intervals of leisure. In 1808 he produced "Marmion," his
+second great poem, which brought him L1000 from the publisher, and at
+once established his fame. During the same year he completed the heavy
+task of editing the works of Dryden, in eighteen volumes. In 1809 he
+edited the state papers and letters of Sir Ralph Sadler, and became a
+contributor to the _Edinburgh Annual Register_, conducted by Southey.
+"The Lady of the Lake," the most happily-conceived and popular of his
+poetical works, appeared in 1810; "Don Roderick," in 1811; "Rokeby," in
+1813; and "The Lord of the Isles," in 1814. "Harold the Dauntless," and
+"The Bridal of Triermain," appeared subsequently, without the author's
+name.
+
+As a poet, Scott had now attained a celebrity unrivalled among his
+contemporaries, and it was in the apprehension of compromising his
+reputation, that, in attempting a new species of composition, he was
+extremely anxious to conceal the name of the author. The novel of
+"Waverley," which appeared in 1814, did not, however, suffer from its
+being anonymous; for, although the sale was somewhat heavy at first, the
+work soon afterwards reached the extraordinary circulation of twelve
+thousand copies. Contrary to reasonable expectation, however, the author
+of "Waverley" did not avow himself, and, numerous as was the catalogue
+of prose fictions which, for more than twenty years, proceeded from his
+pen, he continued as desirous of retaining his secret as were his female
+contemporaries, Lady Nairn and Lady Anne Barnard, to cast a veil over
+their poetical character. The rapidity with which the "Great Unknown"
+produced works of fiction, was one of the marvels of the age; and many
+attempts were made to withdraw the curtain which concealed the
+mysterious author. Successive years produced at least one, and often
+two, novels of a class infinitely superior to the romances of the past
+age, all having reference to the manners and habits of the most
+interesting and chivalrous periods of Scottish or British history,
+which, in these works, were depicted with a power and vivacity
+unattained by the most graphic national historians. Subsequently to the
+publication of "Guy Mannering" and "The Antiquary," in 1815 and 1816,
+and as an expedient to sustain the public interest, Scott commenced a
+new series of novels, under the title of "Tales of my Landlord," these
+being professedly written by a different author; but this resort was
+abandoned as altogether unnecessary for the contemplated object. Each
+successive romance by the author of "Waverley" awakened renewed ardour
+and enthusiasm among the public, and commanded a circulation
+commensurate with the bounds in which the language was understood. Many
+of them were translated into the various European languages. In the year
+1814 he had published an edition of the works of Swift, in nineteen
+volumes octavo.
+
+For some years after his marriage, Scott had occupied a cottage in the
+romantic vicinity of Lasswade, near Edinburgh; but in 1804 he removed to
+Ashestiel, an old mansion, beautifully situated on the banks of the
+Tweed, seven miles above Selkirk, where, for several years, he continued
+to reside during the vacation of the Court. The ruling desire of his
+life was, that by the proceeds of his intellectual labour he might
+acquire an ample demesne, with a suitable mansion of his own, and thus
+in some measure realise in his own person, and in those of his
+representatives, somewhat of the territorial importance of those olden
+barons, whose wassails and whose feuds he had experienced delight in
+celebrating. To attain such distinction as a Scottish _laird_, or
+landholder, he was prepared to incur many sacrifices; nor was this
+desire exceeded by regard for literary reputation. It was unquestionably
+with a view towards the attainment of his darling object, that he taxed
+so severely those faculties with which nature had so liberally endowed
+him, and exhibited a prolificness of authorship, such as has rarely been
+evinced in the annals of literary history. In 1811 he purchased, on the
+south bank of the Tweed, near Melrose, the first portion of that estate
+which, under the name of Abbotsford, has become indelibly associated
+with his history. The soil was then a barren waste, but by extensive
+improvements the place speedily assumed the aspect of amenity and
+beauty. The mansion, a curious amalgamation, in questionable taste, of
+every species of architecture, was partly built in 1811, and gradually
+extended with the increasing emoluments of the owner. By successive
+purchases of adjacent lands, the Abbotsford property became likewise
+augmented, till the rental amounted to about L700 a-year--a return
+sufficiently limited for an expenditure of upwards of L50,000 on this
+favourite spot.
+
+At Abbotsford the poet maintained the character of a wealthy country
+gentleman. He was visited by distinguished persons from the sister
+kingdom, from the Continent, and from America, all of whom he
+entertained in a style of sumptuous elegance. Nor did his constant
+social intercourse with his visitors and friends interfere with the
+regular prosecution of his literary labours: he rose at six, and
+engaged in study and composition till eleven o'clock. During the period
+of his residence in the country, he devoted the remainder of the day to
+his favourite exercise on horseback, the superintendence of improvements
+on his property, and the entertainment of his guests. In March 1820,
+George IV., to whom he was personally known, and who was a warm admirer
+of his genius, granted to him the honour of a baronetcy, being the first
+which was conferred by his Majesty after his accession. Prior to this
+period, besides the works already enumerated, he had given to the world
+his romances of "The Black Dwarf," "Old Mortality," "Rob Roy," "The
+Heart of Midlothian," "The Bride of Lammermoor," "A Legend of Montrose,"
+and "Ivanhoe." The attainment of the baronetcy appears to have
+stimulated him to still greater exertion. In 1820 he produced, besides
+"Ivanhoe," which appeared in the early part of that year, "The
+Monastery" and "The Abbot;" and in the beginning of 1821, the romance of
+"Kenilworth," being twelve volumes published within the same number of
+months. "The Pirate" and "The Fortunes of Nigel" appeared in 1822;
+"Peveril of the Peak" and "Quentin Durward," in 1823; "St Ronan's Well"
+and "Redgauntlet," in 1824; and "The Tales of the Crusaders," in 1825.
+
+During the visit of George IV. to Scotland, in 1822, Sir Walter
+undertook the congenial duty of acting as Master of Ceremonies, which he
+did to the entire satisfaction of his sovereign and of the nation. But
+while prosperity seemed to smile with increasing brilliancy, adversity
+was hovering near. In 1826, Archibald Constable and Company, the famous
+publishers of his works, became insolvent, involving in their
+bankruptcy the printing firm of the Messrs Ballantyne, of which Sir
+Walter was a partner. The liabilities amounted to the vast sum of
+L102,000, for which Sir Walter was individually responsible. To a mind
+less balanced by native intrepidity and fortified by principle, the
+apparent wreck of his worldly hopes would have produced irretrievable
+despondency; but Scott bore his misfortune with magnanimity and manly
+resignation. He had been largely indebted to both the establishments
+which had unfortunately involved him in their fall, in the elegant
+production of his works, as well as in respect of pecuniary
+accommodation; and he felt bound in honour, as well as by legal
+obligation, fully to discharge the debt. He declined to accept an offer
+of the creditors to be satisfied with a composition; and claiming only
+to be allowed time, applied himself with indomitable energy to his
+arduous undertaking, at the age of fifty-five, in the full
+determination, if his life was spared, of cancelling every farthing of
+his obligations. At the crisis of his embarrassments he was engaged in
+the composition of "Woodstock," which shortly afterwards appeared. The
+"Life of Napoleon," which had for a considerable time occupied his
+attention, was published in 1827, in nine vols. octavo. In the course of
+its preparation he had visited both London and Paris in search of
+materials. In the same year he produced "Chronicles of the Canongate,"
+_first series_; and in the year following, the second series of those
+charming tales, and the first portion of his juvenile history of
+Scotland, under the title of "Tales of a Grandfather." A second portion
+of these tales appeared in 1829, and the third and concluding series in
+1830, when he also contributed a graver History of Scotland in two
+volumes to _Lardner's Cabinet Cyclopaedia_. In 1829 likewise appeared
+"Anne of Geierstein," a romance, and in 1830 the "Letters on Demonology
+and Witchcraft." In 1831 he produced a series of "Tales on French
+History," uniform with the "Tales of a Grandfather," and his novels,
+"Count Robert of Paris," and "Castle Dangerous," as a fourth series of
+"Tales of My Landlord." Other productions of inferior mark appeared from
+his pen; he contributed to the _Edinburgh Review_, during the first year
+of its career; wrote the articles, "Chivalry," "Romance," and "Drama,"
+for the sixth edition of the _Encyclopaedia Britannica_; and during his
+latter years contributed somewhat copiously to the _Quarterly Review_.
+
+At a public dinner in Edinburgh, for the benefit of the Theatrical Fund,
+on the 23d of February 1827, Sir Walter made his first avowal as to the
+authorship of the Waverley Novels,--an announcement which scarcely took
+the public by surprise. The physical energies of the illustrious author
+were now suffering a rapid decline; and in his increasing infirmities,
+and liability to sudden and severe attacks of pain, and even of
+unconsciousness, it became evident to his friends, that, in the
+praiseworthy effort to pay his debts, he was sacrificing his health and
+shortening his life. Those apprehensions proved not without foundation.
+In the autumn of 1831, his health became so lamentably broken, that his
+medical advisers recommended a residence in Italy, and entire cessation
+from mental occupation, as the only means of invigorating a constitution
+so seriously dilapidated. But the counsel came too late; the patient
+proceeded to Naples, and afterwards to Rome, but experiencing no benefit
+from the change, he was rapidly conveyed homewards in the following
+summer, in obedience to his express wish, that he might have the
+satisfaction of closing his eyes at Abbotsford. The wish was gratified:
+he arrived at Abbotsford on the 11th of July 1832, and survived till
+the 21st of the ensuing September. According to his own request, his
+remains were interred in an aisle in Dryburgh Abbey, which had belonged
+to one of his ancestors, and had been granted to him by the late Earl of
+Buchan. A heavy block of marble rests upon the grave, in juxtaposition
+with another which has been laid on that of his affectionate partner in
+life, who died in May 1826. The aisle is protected by a heavy iron
+railing.
+
+In stature, Sir Walter Scott was above six feet; but his personal
+appearance, which had otherwise been commanding, was considerably marred
+by the lameness of his right limb, which caused him to walk with an
+awkward effort, and ultimately with much difficulty. His countenance, so
+correctly represented in his numerous portraits and busts, was
+remarkable for depth of forehead; his features were somewhat heavy, and
+his eyes, covered with thick eyelashes, were dull, unless animated by
+congenial conversation. He was of a fair complexion; and his hair,
+originally sandy, became gray from a severe illness which he suffered in
+his 48th year. His general conversation consisted in the detail of
+chivalric adventures and anecdotes of the olden times. His memory was so
+retentive that whatever he had studied indelibly maintained a place in
+his recollection. In fertility of imagination he surpassed all his
+contemporaries. As a poet, if he has not the graceful elegance of
+Campbell, and the fervid energy of Byron, he excels the latter in purity
+of sentiment, and the former in vigour of conception. His style was well
+adapted for the composition of lyric poetry; but as he had no ear for
+music, his song compositions are not numerous. Several of these,
+however, have been set to music, and maintain their popularity.[72] But
+Scott's reputation as a poet is inferior to his reputation as a
+novelist; and while even his best poems may cease to be generally read,
+the author of the Waverley Novels will only be forgotten with the disuse
+of the language. A cabinet edition of these novels, with the author's
+last notes, and illustrated with elegant engravings, appeared in
+forty-eight volumes a short period before his decease; several other
+complete editions have since been published by the late Mr Robert
+Cadell, and by the present proprietors of the copyright, the Messrs
+Black of Edinburgh.
+
+As a man of amiable dispositions and incorruptible integrity, Sir Walter
+Scott shone conspicuous among his contemporaries, the latter quality
+being eminently exhibited in his resolution to pay the whole of his
+heavy pecuniary liabilities. To this effort he fell a martyr; yet it was
+a source of consolation to his survivors, that, by his own extraordinary
+exertions, the policy of life insurance payable at his death, and the
+sum of L30,000 paid by Mr Cadell for the copyright of his works, the
+whole amount of the debt was discharged. It is, however painfully, to be
+remarked, that the object of his earlier ambition, in raising a family,
+has not been realised. His children, consisting of two sons and two
+daughters, though not constitutionally delicate, have all departed from
+the scene, and the only representative of his house is the surviving
+child of his eldest daughter, who was married to Mr John Gibson
+Lockhart, the late editor of the _Quarterly Review_, and his literary
+executor. This sole descendant, a grand-daughter, is the wife of Mr
+Hope, Q.C., who has lately added to his patronymic the name of Scott,
+and made Abbotsford his summer residence. The memory of the illustrious
+Minstrel has received every honour from his countrymen; monuments have
+been raised to him in the principal towns--that in the capital, a rich
+Gothic cross, being one of the noblest decorations of his native city.
+Abbotsford has become the resort of the tourist and of the traveller
+from every land, who contemplate with interest and devotion a scene
+hallowed by the loftiest genius.
+
+ "The grass is trodden by the feet
+ Of thousands, from a thousand lands--
+ The prince, the peasant, tottering age,
+ And rosy schoolboy bands;
+ All crowd to fairy Abbotsford,
+ And lingering gaze, and gaze the more;
+ Hang o'er the chair in which _he_ sat,
+ The latest dress _he_ wore."[73]
+
+
+[72] We regret that, owing to the provision of the copyright act, we are
+unable, in this work, to present four of Sir Walter Scott's most popular
+songs, "The Blue Bonnets over the Border," "Jock o' Hazeldean,"
+"M'Gregor's Gathering," and "Carle, now the King's come." These songs
+must, however, be abundantly familiar to the majority of readers.
+
+[73] From "The Grave of Sir Walter Scott," a poem by Thomas C. Latto
+(see "The Minister's Kail-yard, and other Poems." Edinburgh, 1845,
+12mo). To explain an allusion in the last line of the above stanza, it
+should be noticed, that the last dress of the poet is exhibited to
+visitors at Abbotsford, carefully preserved in a glass case.
+
+
+
+
+IT WAS AN ENGLISH LADYE BRIGHT.[74]
+
+
+ It was an English ladye bright
+ (The sun shines fair on Carlisle wall),
+ And she would marry a Scottish knight,
+ For Love will still be lord of all.
+
+ Blithely they saw the rising sun,
+ When he shone fair on Carlisle wall;
+ But they were sad ere day was done,
+ Though Love was still the lord of all.
+
+ The sire gave brooch and jewel fine,
+ Where the sun shines fair on Carlisle wall;
+ Her brother gave but a flask of wine,
+ For ire that Love was lord of all.
+
+ For she had lands, both meadow and lea,
+ Where the sun shines fair on Carlisle wall,
+ And he swore her death, ere he would see
+ A Scottish knight the lord of all.
+
+ That wine she had not tasted well
+ (The sun shines fair on Carlisle wall),
+ When dead in her true love's arms she fell,
+ For Love was still the lord of all.
+
+ He pierced her brother to the heart,
+ Where the sun shines fair on Carlisle wall--
+ So perish all would true love part,
+ That Love may still be lord of all!
+
+ And then he took the cross divine
+ (Where the sun shines fair on Carlisle wall),
+ And died for her sake in Palestine,
+ So Love was still the lord of all.
+
+ Now all ye lovers, that faithful prove,
+ (The sun shines fair on Carlisle wall)
+ Pray for their souls who died for love,
+ For Love shall still be lord of all!
+
+
+[74] This song appears in the sixth canto of "The Lay of the Last
+Minstrel." "It is the author's object in these songs," writes Lord
+Jeffrey, "to exemplify the different styles of ballad-narrative which
+prevailed in this island at different periods, or in different
+conditions of society. The first (the above) is conducted upon the rude
+and simple model of the old border ditties, and produces its effect by
+the direct and concise narrative of a tragical occurrence."
+
+
+
+
+LOCHINVAR.[75]
+
+
+ Oh, young Lochinvar is come out of the west,
+ Through all the wide border his steed was the best;
+ And save his good broadsword he weapons had none,
+ He rode all unarm'd, and he rode all alone.
+ So faithful in love, and so dauntless in war,
+ There never was knight like the young Lochinvar.
+
+ He stay'd not for brake, and he stopp'd not for stone,
+ He swam the Eske river where ford there was none;
+ But ere he alighted at Netherby gate,
+ The bride had consented, the gallant came late:
+ For a laggard in love, and a dastard in war,
+ Was to wed the fair Ellen of brave Lochinvar.
+
+ So boldly he enter'd the Netherby Hall,
+ Among bridesmen, and kinsmen, and brothers, and all:
+ Then spoke the bride's father, his hand on his sword,
+ (For the poor craven bridegroom said never a word)
+ "Oh, come ye in peace here, or come ye in war,
+ Or to dance at our bridal, young Lord Lochinvar?"
+
+ "I long woo'd your daughter, my suit you denied;--
+ Love swells like the Solway, but ebbs like its tide--
+ And now am I come, with this lost love of mine,
+ To lead but one measure, drink one cup of wine;
+ There are maidens in Scotland more lovely by far,
+ That would gladly be bride to the young Lochinvar."
+
+ The bride kiss'd the goblet; the knight took it up,
+ He quaff'd off the wine, and he threw down the cup;
+ She look'd down to blush, and she look'd up to sigh,
+ With a smile on her lips, and a tear in her eye.
+ He took her soft hand, ere her mother could bar--
+ "Now tread we a measure!" said young Lochinvar.
+
+ So stately his form, and so lovely her face,
+ That never a hall such a galliard did grace;
+ While her mother did fret, and her father did fume,
+ And the bridegroom stood dangling his bonnet and plume;
+ And the bride-maidens whisper'd, "'Twere better, by far,
+ To have match'd our fair cousin with young Lochinvar."
+
+ One touch to her hand, and one word in her ear,
+ When they reach'd the hall-door, and the charger stood near;
+ So light to the croupe the fair lady he swung,
+ So light to the saddle before her he sprung!
+ "She is won! we are gone, over bank, bush, and scaur;
+ They 'll have fleet steeds that follow," quoth young Lochinvar.
+
+ There was mounting 'mong Graemes of the Netherby clan;
+ Forsters, Fenwicks, and Musgraves, they rode and they ran:
+ There was racing, and chasing, on Cannobie Lea,
+ But the lost bride of Netherby ne'er did they see.
+ So daring in love, and so dauntless in war,
+ Have ye e'er heard of gallant like young Lochinvar?
+
+
+[75] This song occurs in the fifth canto of "Marmion." It is founded on
+a ballad entitled "Katharine Janfarie," in the "Minstrelsy of the
+Scottish Border."
+
+
+
+
+WHERE SHALL THE LOVER REST.[76]
+
+
+ Where shall the lover rest,
+ Whom the fates sever
+ From his true maiden's breast,
+ Parted for ever?
+ Where, through groves deep and high,
+ Sounds the far billow;
+ Where early violets die
+ Under the willow.
+ Eleu loro, &c.
+ Soft shall be his pillow.
+
+ There, through the summer day,
+ Cool streams are laving;
+ There, while the tempests sway,
+ Scarce are boughs waving;
+ There, thy rest shalt thou take,
+ Parted for ever;
+ Never again to wake,
+ Never, O never!
+ Eleu loro, &c.
+ Never, O never!
+
+ Where shall the traitor rest,
+ He, the deceiver,
+ Who could win maiden's breast,
+ Ruin, and leave her?
+ In the lost battle,
+ Borne down by the flying,
+ Where mingle war's rattle
+ With groans of the dying.
+ Eleu loro, &c.
+ There shall he be lying.
+
+ Her wing shall the eagle flap
+ O'er the false-hearted;
+ His warm blood the wolf shall lap
+ Ere life be parted.
+ Shame and dishonour sit
+ By his grave ever;
+ Blessing shall hallow it,--
+ Never, O never!
+ Eleu loro, &c.
+ Never, O never!
+
+
+[76] From the third canto of "Marmion."
+
+
+
+
+SOLDIER, REST! THY WARFARE O'ER.[77]
+
+
+ Soldier, rest! thy warfare o'er,
+ Sleep the sleep that knows not breaking;
+ Dream of battle-fields no more,
+ Days of danger, nights of waking.
+ In our isle's enchanted hall,
+ Hands unseen thy couch are strewing,
+ Fairy strains of music fall,
+ Every sense in slumber dewing.
+ Soldier, rest! thy warfare o'er,
+ Dream of fighting fields no more;
+ Sleep the sleep that knows not breaking,
+ Morn of toil, nor night of waking.
+
+ No rude sound shall reach thine ear,
+ Armour's clang, or war-steed champing;
+ Trump nor pibroch summon here,
+ Mustering clan, or squadron tramping.
+ Yet the lark's shrill fife may come
+ At the daybreak from the fallow;
+ And the bittern sound his drum,
+ Booming from the sedgy shallow.
+ Ruder sounds shall none be near,
+ Guards nor wardens challenge here;
+ Here 's no war-steed's neigh and champing,
+ Shouting clans, or squadrons' stamping.
+
+ Huntsman, rest! thy chase is done;
+ While our slumbrous spells assail ye,
+ Dream not, with the rising sun,
+ Bugles here shall sound reveille.
+ Sleep! the deer is in his den;
+ Sleep! nor dream in yonder glen,
+ How thy gallant steed lay dying.
+ Huntsman, rest! thy chase is done,
+ Think not of the rising sun,
+ For at dawning to assail ye,
+ Here no bugles sound reveille.
+
+
+[77] The song of Lady Margaret in the first canto of "The Lady of the
+Lake."
+
+
+
+
+HAIL TO THE CHIEF WHO IN TRIUMPH ADVANCES![78]
+
+
+ Hail to the chief who in triumph advances!
+ Honour'd and bless'd be the ever-green pine!
+ Long may the tree, in his banner that glances,
+ Flourish, the shelter and grace of our line!
+ Heaven send it happy dew,
+ Earth lend it sap anew,
+ Gaily to bourgeon, and broadly to grow,
+ While every Highland glen
+ Sends our shout back agen,
+ Roderigh Vich Alpine dhu, ho! ieroe!
+
+ Ours is no sapling, chance-sown by the fountain,
+ Blooming at Beltane, in winter to fade;
+ When the whirlwind has stripp'd every leaf on the mountain,
+ The more shall Clan-Alpine exult in her shade;
+ Moor'd in the rifted rock
+ Proof to the tempest shock,
+ Firmer he roots him the ruder it blow;
+ Menteith and Breadalbane, then,
+ Echo his praise agen,
+ Roderigh Vich Alpine dhu, ho! ieroe!
+
+ Proudly our pibroch has thrill'd in Glen Fruin,
+ And Bannochar's groans to our slogan replied;
+ Glen Luss and Ross-dhu, they are smoking in ruin,
+ And the best of Loch Lomond lie dead on her side.
+ Widow and Saxon maid
+ Long shall lament our raid,
+ Think of Clan-Alpine with fear and with woe;
+ Lennox and Leven-Glen
+ Shake when they hear agen,
+ Roderigh Vich Alpine dhu, ho! ieroe!
+
+ Row, vassals, row, for the pride of the Highlands!
+ Stretch to your oars for the ever-green pine!
+ Oh, that the rosebud that graces yon islands
+ Were wreathed in a garland around him to twine!
+ O that some seedling gem,
+ Worthy such noble stem,
+ Honour'd and bless'd in their shadow might grow!
+ Loud should Clan-Alpine then
+ Ring from the deepmost glen,
+ Roderigh Vich Alpine dhu, ho! ieroe!
+
+
+[78] The "boat song" in the second canto of "The Lady of the Lake." It
+may be sung to the air of "The Banks of the Devon."
+
+
+
+
+THE HEATH THIS NIGHT MUST BE MY BED.[79]
+
+
+ The heath this night must be my bed,
+ The bracken curtains for my head,
+ My lullaby the warder's tread,
+ Far, far from love and thee, Mary.
+
+ To-morrow eve, more stilly laid,
+ My couch may be the bloody plaid,
+ My vesper song, thy wail, sweet maid!
+ It will not waken me, Mary!
+
+ I may not, dare not, fancy now
+ The grief that clouds thy lovely brow,
+ I dare not think upon thy vow,
+ And all it promised me, Mary.
+
+ No fond regret must Norman know;
+ When bursts Clan-Alpine on the foe,
+ His heart must be like bended bow,
+ His foot like arrow free, Mary.
+
+ A time will come with feeling fraught,
+ For if I fall in battle fought,
+ Thy hapless lover's dying thought
+ Shall be a thought on thee, Mary.
+
+ And if return'd from conquer'd foes,
+ How blithely will the evening close,
+ How sweet the linnet sing repose
+ To my young bride and me, Mary!
+
+
+[79] Song of Norman in "The Lady of the Lake," canto third.
+
+
+
+
+THE IMPRISONED HUNTSMAN.[80]
+
+
+ My hawk is tired of perch and hood,
+ My idle greyhound loathes his food,
+ My horse is weary of his stall,
+ And I am sick of captive thrall;
+ I wish I were as I have been,
+ Hunting the hart in forest green,
+ With bended bow and bloodhound free,
+ For that 's the life is meet for me.
+
+ I hate to learn the ebb of time
+ From yon dull steeple's drowsy chime,
+ Or mark it as the sunbeams crawl,
+ Inch after inch, along the wall.
+ The lark was wont my matins ring,
+ The sable rook my vespers sing:
+ These towers, although a king's they be,
+ Have not a hall of joy for me.
+
+ No more at dawning morn I rise
+ And sun myself in Ellen's eyes,
+ Drive the fleet deer the forest through,
+ And homeward wend with evening dew;
+ A blithesome welcome blithely meet
+ And lay my trophies at her feet,
+ While fled the eve on wing of glee--
+ That life is lost to love and me!
+
+
+[80] "The Lady of the Lake," canto sixth.
+
+
+
+
+HE IS GONE ON THE MOUNTAIN.[81]
+
+
+ He is gone on the mountain,
+ He is lost to the forest,
+ Like a summer-dried fountain,
+ When our need was the sorest.
+ The font re-appearing,
+ From the rain-drops shall borrow;
+ But to us comes no cheering,
+ To Duncan no morrow!
+
+ The hand of the reaper
+ Takes the ears that are hoary,
+ But the voice of the weeper
+ Wails manhood in glory.
+ The autumn winds rushing
+ Wafts the leaves that are searest,
+ But our flower was in flushing
+ When blighting was nearest.
+
+ Fleet foot on the corrie,
+ Sage counsel in cumber,
+ Red hand in the foray,
+ How sound is thy slumber!
+ Like the dew on the mountain,
+ Like the foam on the river,
+ Like the bubble on the fountain,
+ Thou art gone, and for ever.
+
+
+[81] "The Lady of the Lake," canto third.
+
+
+
+
+A WEARY LOT IS THINE, FAIR MAID.[82]
+
+
+ "A weary lot is thine, fair maid,
+ A weary lot is thine!
+ To pull the thorn thy brow to braid,
+ And press the rue for wine!
+ A lightsome eye, a soldier's mien,
+ A feather of the blue,
+ A doublet of the Lincoln green,
+ No more of me ye knew, my love!
+ No more of me ye knew.
+
+ "This morn is merry June, I trow,
+ The rose is budding fain;
+ But she shall bloom in winter snow,
+ Ere we two meet again."
+ He turn'd his charger as he spake,
+ Upon the river shore,
+ He gave his bridle-reins a shake,
+ Said, "Adieu for evermore, my love!
+ And adieu for evermore."
+
+
+[82] "Rokeby," canto third.
+
+
+
+
+ALLEN-A-DALE.[83]
+
+
+ Allen-a-Dale has no faggot for burning,
+ Allen-a-Dale has no furrow for turning,
+ Allen-a-Dale has no fleece for the spinning,
+ Yet Allen-a-Dale has red gold for the winning;
+ Come, read me my riddle! come, hearken my tale!
+ And tell me the craft of bold Allen-a-Dale.
+
+ The Baron of Ravensworth prances in pride,
+ And he views his domains upon Arkindale side,
+ The mere for his net, and the land for his game,
+ The chase for the wild, and the park for the tame;
+ Yet the fish of the lake and the deer of the vale
+ Are less free to Lord Dacre than Allen-a-Dale.
+
+ Allen-a-Dale was ne'er belted a knight,
+ Though his spur be as sharp, and his blade be as bright;
+ Allen-a-Dale is no baron or lord,
+ Yet twenty tall yeomen will draw at his word;
+ And the best of our nobles his bonnet will vail,
+ Who at Rere-cross on Stanmore meets Allen-a-Dale.
+
+ Allen-a-Dale to his wooing is come;
+ The mother she asked of his household and home;
+ "Though the castle of Richmond stand fair on the hill,
+ My hall," quoth bold Allen, "shows gallanter still;
+ 'Tis the blue vault of heaven, with its crescent so pale,
+ And with all its bright spangles," said Allen-a-Dale.
+
+ The father was steel and the mother was stone,
+ They lifted the latch, and they bade him be gone;
+ But loud, on the morrow, their wail and their cry,
+ He had laugh'd on the lass with his bonny black eye,
+ And she fled to the forest to hear a love-tale,
+ And the youth it was told by was Allen-a-Dale.
+
+
+[83] "Rokeby," canto third.
+
+
+
+
+THE CYPRESS WREATH.[84]
+
+
+ Oh, lady! twine no wreath for me,
+ Or twine it of the cypress-tree!
+ Too lively glow the lilies' light,
+ The varnish'd holly 's all too bright,
+ The mayflower and the eglantine
+ May shade a brow less sad than mine;
+ But, lady, weave no wreath for me,
+ Or weave it of the cypress-tree!
+
+ Let dimpled mirth his temples twine
+ With tendrils of the laughing vine;
+ The manly oak, the pensive yew,
+ To patriot and to sage be due;
+ The myrtle bough bids lovers live
+ But that Matilda will not give;
+ Then, lady, twine no wreath for me,
+ Or twine it of the cypress-tree!
+
+ Let merry England proudly rear
+ Her blended roses, bought so dear;
+ Let Albin bind her bonnet blue
+ With heath and harebell dipp'd in dew.
+ On favour'd Erin's crest be seen
+ The flower she loves of emerald green;
+ But, lady, twine no wreath for me,
+ Or twine it of the cypress-tree!
+
+ Strike the wild harp while maids prepare
+ The ivy meet for minstrel's hair;
+ And, while his crown of laurel-leaves,
+ With bloody hand the victor weaves,
+ Let the loud trump his triumph tell;
+ But when you hear the passing-bell,
+ Then, lady, twine a wreath for me,
+ And twine it of the cypress-tree!
+
+ Yes, twine for me the cypress bough;
+ But, O Matilda, twine not now!
+ Stay till a few brief months are past
+ And I have look'd and loved my last!
+ When villagers my shroud bestrew
+ With pansies, rosemary, and rue,--
+ Then, lady, weave a wreath for me,
+ And weave it of the cypress-tree!
+
+
+[84] "Rokeby," canto fifth.
+
+
+
+
+THE CAVALIER.[85]
+
+
+ While the dawn on the mountain was misty and gray,
+ My true love has mounted his steed and away,
+ Over hill, over valley, o'er dale, and o'er down;--
+ Heaven shield the brave gallant that fights for the crown!
+
+ He has doff'd the silk doublet the breastplate to bear,
+ He has placed the steel cap o'er his long flowing hair,
+ From his belt to his stirrup his broadsword hangs down--
+ Heaven shield the brave gallant that fights for the crown!
+
+ For the rights of fair England that broadsword he draws,
+ Her king is his leader, her church is his cause,
+ His watchword is honour, his pay is renown,--
+ God strike with the gallant that strikes for the crown!
+
+ They may boast of their Fairfax, their Waller, and all
+ The roundheaded rebels of Westminster Hall;
+ But tell these bold traitors of London's proud town,
+ That the spears of the north have encircled the crown.
+
+ There 's Derby and Cavendish, dread of their foes;
+ There 's Erin's high Ormond, and Scotland's Montrose!
+ Would you match the base Skippon, and Massey, and Brown,
+ With the barons of England that fight for the crown?
+
+ Now joy to the crest of the brave cavalier,
+ Be his banner unconquer'd, resistless his spear,
+ Till in peace and in triumph his toils he may drown,
+ In a pledge to fair England, her church, and her crown!
+
+
+[85] "Rokeby," canto fifth.
+
+
+
+
+HUNTING SONG.[86]
+
+
+ Waken, lords and ladies gay,
+ On the mountain dawns the day,
+ All the jolly chase is here,
+ With hawk, and horse, and hunting-spear!
+ Hounds are in their couples yelling,
+ Hawks are whistling, horns are knelling,
+ Merrily, merrily, mingle they--
+ "Waken, lords and ladies gay."
+
+ Waken, lords and ladies gay,
+ The mist has left the mountain gray,
+ Springlets in the dawn are steaming,
+ Diamonds on the brake are gleaming:
+ And foresters have busy been
+ To track the buck in thicket green;
+ Now we come to chant our lay,
+ "Waken, lords and ladies gay."
+
+ Waken, lords and ladies gay,
+ To the green-wood haste away;
+ We can shew you where he lies,
+ Fleet of foot and tall of size;
+ We can shew the marks he made
+ When 'gainst the oak his antlers fray'd;
+ You shall see him brought to bay,
+ "Waken, lords and ladies gay."
+
+ Louder, louder chant the lay,
+ Waken, lords and ladies gay!
+ Tell them youth, and mirth, and glee,
+ Run a course as well as we;
+ Time, stern huntsman! who can baulk,
+ Stanch as hound, and fleet as hawk?
+ Think of this, and rise with day,
+ Gentle lords and ladies gay.
+
+
+[86] First published in the continuation of Strutt's Queenhoohall, 1808,
+inserted in the _Edinburgh Annual Register_, of the same year, and set
+to a Welsh air in Thomson's _Select Melodies_, vol. iii., 1817.
+
+
+
+
+OH, SAY NOT, MY LOVE, WITH THAT MORTIFIED AIR.
+
+
+ Oh, say not, my love, with that mortified air,
+ That your spring-time of pleasure is flown;
+ Nor bid me to maids that are younger repair,
+ For those raptures that still are thine own.
+
+ Though April his temples may wreathe with the vine,
+ Its tendrils in infancy curl'd;
+ 'Tis the ardour of August matures us the wine,
+ Whose life-blood enlivens the world.
+
+ Though thy form, that was fashion'd as light as a fay's,
+ Has assumed a proportion more round,
+ And thy glance, that was bright as a falcon's at gaze,
+ Looks soberly now on the ground--
+
+ Enough, after absence to meet me again,
+ Thy steps still with ecstacy move;
+ Enough, that those dear sober glances retain
+ For me the kind language of love.
+
+
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+METRICAL TRANSLATIONS
+
+FROM
+
+The Modern Gaelic Minstrelsy.
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+
+
+ROBERT MACKAY (ROB DONN).
+
+
+Robert Mackay, called _Donn_, from the colour of his hair, which was
+brown or chestnut, was born in the Strathmore of Sutherlandshire, about
+the year 1714.
+
+His calling, with the interval of a brief military service in the
+fencibles, was the tending of cattle, in the several gradations of herd,
+drover, and bo-man, or responsible cow-keeper--the last, in his pastoral
+county, a charge of trust and respectability. At one period he had an
+appointment in Lord Reay's forest; but some deviations into the
+"righteous theft"--so the Highlanders of those parts, it seems, call the
+appropriation of an occasional deer to their own use--forfeited his
+noble employer's confidence. Rob, however, does not appear to have
+suffered in his general character or reputation for an _unconsidered
+trifle_ like this, nor otherwise to have declined in the favour of his
+chief, beyond the necessity of transporting himself to a situation
+somewhat nearer the verge of Cape Wrath than the bosom of the deer
+preserve.
+
+Mackay was happily married, and brought up a large family in habits and
+sentiments of piety; a fact which his reverend biographer connects very
+touchingly with the stated solemnities of the "Saturday night," when the
+lighter chants of the week were exchanged at the worthy drover's
+fireside for the purer and holier melodies of another inspiration.[87]
+As a pendant to this creditable account of the bard's principles, we are
+informed that he was a frequent guest at the presbytery dinner-table; a
+circumstance which some may be so malicious as to surmise amounted to
+nothing more than a purpose to enhance the festive recreations of the
+reverend body--a suspicion, we believe, in this particular instance,
+totally unfounded. He died in 1778; and he has succeeded to some rather
+peculiar honours for a person in his position, or even of his mark. He
+has had a reverend doctor for his editorial biographer,[88] and no less
+than Sir Walter Scott for his reviewer.[89]
+
+The passages which Sir Walter has culled from some literal translations
+that were submitted to him, are certainly the most favourable specimens
+of the bard that we have been able to discover in his volume. The rest
+are generally either satiric rants too rough or too local for
+transfusion, or panegyrics on the living and the dead, in the usual
+extravagant style of such compositions, according to the taste of the
+Highlanders and the usage of their bards; or they are love-lays, of
+which the language is more copious and diversified than the sentiment.
+In the gleanings on which we have ventured, after the illustrious person
+who has done so much honour to the bard by his comments and selections,
+we have attempted to draw out a little more of the peculiar character of
+the poet's genius.
+
+
+[87] Songs and Poems of Robert Mackay, p. 38. (Inverness, 1829. 8vo.)
+
+[88] The Rev. Dr Mackintosh Mackay, successively minister of Laggan and
+Dunoon, now a clergyman in Australia.
+
+[89] _Quarterly Review_, vol. xlv., April 1831.
+
+
+
+
+THE SONG OF WINTER.
+
+ This is selected as a specimen of Mackay's descriptive poetry. It
+ is in a style peculiar to the Highlands, where description runs so
+ entirely into epithets and adjectives, as to render recitation
+ breathless, and translation hopeless. Here, while we have retained
+ the imagery, we have been unable to find room, or rather rhyme, for
+ one half of the epithets in the original. The power of alliterative
+ harmony in the original song is extraordinary.
+
+
+ I.
+
+ At waking so early
+ Was snow on the Ben,
+ And, the glen of the hill in,
+ The storm-drift so chilling
+ The linnet was stilling,
+ That couch'd in its den;
+ And poor robin was shrilling
+ In sorrow his strain.
+
+
+ II.
+
+ Every grove was expecting
+ Its leaf shed in gloom;
+ The sap it is draining,
+ Down rootwards 'tis straining,
+ And the bark it is waning
+ As dry as the tomb,
+ And the blackbird at morning
+ Is shrieking his doom.
+
+
+ III.
+
+ Ceases thriving, the knotted,
+ The stunted birk-shaw;[90]
+ While the rough wind is blowing,
+ And the drift of the snowing
+ Is shaking, o'erthrowing,
+ The copse on the law.
+
+
+ IV.
+
+ 'Tis the season when nature
+ Is all in the sere,
+ When her snow-showers are hailing,
+ Her rain-sleet assailing,
+ Her mountain winds wailing,
+ Her rime-frosts severe.
+
+
+ V.
+
+ 'Tis the season of leanness,
+ Unkindness, and chill;
+ Its whistle is ringing,
+ An iciness bringing,
+ Where the brown leaves are clinging
+ In helplessness, still,
+ And the snow-rush is delving
+ With furrows the hill.
+
+
+ VI.
+
+ The sun is in hiding,
+ Or frozen its beam
+ On the peaks where he lingers,
+ On the glens, where the singers,[91]
+ With their bills and small fingers
+ Are raking the stream,
+ Or picking the midstead
+ For forage--and scream.
+
+
+ VII.
+
+ When darkens the gloaming
+ Oh, scant is their cheer!
+ All benumb'd is their song in
+ The hedge they are thronging,
+ And for shelter still longing,
+ The mortar[92] they tear;
+ Ever noisily, noisily
+ Squealing their care.
+
+
+ VIII.
+
+ The running stream's chieftain[93]
+ Is trailing to land,
+ So flabby, so grimy,
+ So sickly, so slimy,--
+ The spots of his prime he
+ Has rusted with sand;
+ Crook-snouted his crest is
+ That taper'd so grand.
+
+
+ IX.
+
+ How mournful in winter
+ The lowing of kine;
+ How lean-back'd they shiver,
+ How draggled their cover,
+ How their nostrils run over
+ With drippings of brine,
+ So scraggy and crining
+ In the cold frost they pine.
+
+
+ X.
+
+ 'Tis hallow-mass time, and
+ To mildness farewell!
+ Its bristles are low'ring
+ With darkness; o'erpowering
+ Are its waters, aye showering
+ With onset so fell;
+ Seem the kid and the yearling
+ As rung their death-knell.
+
+
+ XI.
+
+ Every out-lying creature,
+ How sinew'd soe'er,
+ Seeks the refuge of shelter;
+ The race of the antler
+ They snort and they falter,
+ A-cold in their lair;
+ And the fawns they are wasting
+ Since their kin is afar.
+
+
+ XII.
+
+ Such the songs that are saddest
+ And dreariest of all;
+ I ever am eerie
+ In the morning to hear ye!
+ When foddering, to cheer the
+ Poor herd in the stall--
+ While each creature is moaning,
+ And sickening in thrall.
+
+
+[90] "Birk-shaw." A few Scotticisms will be found in these versions, at
+once to flavour the style, and, it must be admitted, to assist the
+rhymes.
+
+[91] Birds.
+
+[92] The sides of the cottages--plastered with mud or mortar, instead of
+lime.
+
+[93] Salmon.
+
+
+
+
+DIRGE FOR IAN MACECHAN.
+
+A FRAGMENT.
+
+ Mackay was entertained by Macechan, who was a respectable
+ store-farmer, from his earliest life to his marriage. According to
+ his reverend biographer,[94] the last lines of the elegy, of which
+ the following is a translation, were much approved.
+
+
+ I see the wretch of high degree,
+ Though poverty has struck his race,
+ Pass with a darkness on his face
+ That door of hospitality.
+
+ I see the widow in her tears,
+ Dark as her woe--I see her boy--
+ From both, want reaves the dregs of joy;
+ The flash of youth through rags appears.
+
+ I see the poor's--the minstrel's lot--
+ As brethren they--no boon for song!
+ I see the unrequited wrong
+ Call for its helper, who is not.
+
+ You hear my plaint, and ask me, why?
+ You ask me _when_ this deep distress
+ Began to rage without redress?
+ "With Ian Macechan's dying sigh!"
+
+
+[94] "Poems," p. 318.
+
+
+
+
+THE SONG OF THE FORSAKEN DROVER.
+
+ During a long absence on a droving expedition, Mackay was deprived of
+ his mistress by another lover, whom, in fine, she married. The discovery
+ he made, on his return, led to this composition; which is a sequel to
+ another composed on his distant journey, in which he seems to
+ prognosticate something like what happened. Both are selected by Sir
+ Walter Scott as specimens of the bard, and may be found paraphrastically
+ rendered in a prose version, in the _Quarterly Review_, vol. xlv., p.
+ 371, and in the notes to the last edition of "The Highland Drover," in
+ "Chronicles of the Canongate." With regard to the present specimen, it
+ may be remarked, that part of the original is either so obscure, or so
+ freely rendered by Sir Walter Scott's translator, that we have attempted
+ the present version, not without some little perplexity as to the sense
+ of one or two allusions. We claim, on the whole, the merit of almost
+ literal fidelity.
+
+
+ I.
+
+ I fly from the fold, since my passion's despair
+ No longer must harbour the charms that are there;
+ Anne's[95] slender eyebrows, her sleek tresses so long,
+ Her turreted bosom--and Isabel's[96] song;
+ What has been, and is not--woe 's my thought!
+ It must not be spoken, nor can be forgot.
+
+
+ II.
+
+ I wander'd the fold, and I rambled the grove,
+ And each spot it reported the kiss of my love;
+ But I saw her caressing another--and feel
+ 'Tis distraction to hear them, and see them so leal.
+ What has been, and is not, &c.
+
+
+ III.
+
+ Since 'twas told that a rival beguil'd thee away,
+ The dreams of my love are the dreams of dismay;
+ Though unsummon'd of thee,[97] love has captured thy thrall,
+ And my hope of redemption for ever is small.
+ Day and night, though I strive aye
+ To shake him away, still he clings like the ivy.
+
+
+ IV.
+
+ But, auburn-hair'd Anna! to tell thee my plight,
+ 'Tis old love unrequited that prostrates my might,
+ In presence or absence, aye faithful, my smart
+ Still racks, and still searches, and tugs at my heart--
+ Broken that heart, yet why disappear
+ From my country, without one embrace from my dear?
+
+
+ V.
+
+ She answers with laughter and haughty disdain--
+ "To handle my snood you petition in vain;
+ Six suitors are mine since the year thou wert gone,
+ What art _thou_, that thou should'st be the favourite one?
+ Art thou sick? Ha, ha, for thy woe!
+ Art thou dying for love? Troth, love's payment was slow."[98]
+
+
+ VI.
+
+ Though my anger may feign it requites thy disdain,
+ And vaunts in thy absence, it threatens in vain--
+ All in vain! for thy image in fondness returns,
+ And o'er thy sweet likeness expectancy burns;
+ And I hope--yes, I hope once more,
+ Till my hope waxes high as a tower[99] in its soar.
+
+
+[95] "Anne"--Rob's first love, the heroine of the piece. "Similar in
+interest to the Highland Mary of Burns, is the yellow-haired Anne of Rob
+Donn."--"Life," p. 18.
+
+[96] "Isabel"--the daughter of Ian Macechan, the subject of other
+verses.
+
+[97] "Unsummon'd of thee." The idea is rather quaintly expressed in the
+original thus--"Though thou hast sent me no summons, love has, of his
+own accord, acted the part of a catchpole (or sheriff's officer), and
+will not release me." Such are the homely fancies introduced into some
+of the most passionate strains of the Gaelic muse.
+
+[98] Alluding to his absence, and delay in his courtship.
+
+[99] Rather more modest than the classic's "feriam sidera vertice."
+
+
+
+
+ISABEL MACKAY--THE MAID ALONE.
+
+TO A PIOBRACH TUNE.
+
+ This is one of those lyrics, of which there are many in Gaelic poetry,
+ that are intended to imitate pipe music. They consist of three parts,
+ called Urlar, Siubhal, and Crunluath. The first is a slow, monotonous
+ measure, usually, indeed, a mere repetition of the same words or tones;
+ the second, a livelier or brisker melody, striking into description or
+ narrative; the third, a rapid finale, taxing the reciter's or
+ performer's powers to their utmost pitch of expedition. The heroine of
+ the song is the same Isabel who is introduced towards the commencement
+ of the "Forsaken Drover;" and it appears, from other verses in Mackay's
+ collection, that it was not her fate to be "alone" through life. It is
+ to be understood that when the verses were composed, she was in charge
+ of her father's extensive pastoral _manege_, and not a mere milk-maid or
+ dairy-woman.
+
+
+ URLAR.
+
+ Isabel Mackay is with the milk kye,
+ And Isabel Mackay is alone;
+ Isabel Mackay is with the milk kye,
+ And Isabel Mackay is alone, &c.
+ Seest thou Isabel Mackay with the milk kye,
+ At the forest foot--and alone?
+
+
+ SIUBHAL.
+
+ By the Virgin and Son![100]
+ Thou bride-lacking one,
+ If ever thy time
+ Is coming, begone,
+ The occasion is prime,
+ For Isabel Mackay
+ Is with the milk kye
+ At the skirts of the forest,
+ And with her is none.
+ By the Virgin and Son, &c.
+
+ Woe is the sign!
+ It is not well
+ With the lads that dwell
+ Around us, so brave,
+ When the mistress fine
+ Of Riothan-a-dave
+ Is out with the kine,
+ And with her is none.
+ O, woe is the sign, &c.
+
+ Whoever he be
+ That a bride would gain
+ Of gentle degree,
+ And a drove or twain,
+ His speed let him strain
+ To Riothan-a-dave,
+ And a bride he shall have.
+ Then, to her so fain!
+ Whoever he be, &c.
+
+ And a bride he shall have,
+ The maid that's alone.
+ Isabel Mackay, &c.
+ Oh, seest not the dearie
+ So fit for embracing,
+ Her patience distressing,
+ The bestial a-chasing,
+ And she alone!
+
+ 'Tis a marvellous fashion
+ That men should be slack,
+ When their bosoms lack
+ An object of passion,
+ To look such a lass on,
+ Her patience distressing,
+ The bestial a-chasing,
+ In the field, alone.
+
+
+ CRUNLUATH (FINALE).
+
+ Oh, look upon the prize, sirs,
+ That where yon heights are rising,
+ The whole long twelvemonth sighs in,
+ Because she is alone.
+ Go, learn it from my minstrelsy,
+ Who list the tale to carry,
+ The maiden shuns the public eye,
+ And is ordain'd to tarry
+ 'Mid stoups and cans, and milking ware,
+ Where brown hills rear their ridges bare,
+ And wails her plight the livelong year,
+ To spend the day alone.
+
+
+[100] A common Highland adjuration.
+
+
+
+
+EVAN'S ELEGY.
+
+ Mackay was benighted on a deer-stalking expedition, near a wild hut
+ or shealing, at the head of Loch Eriboll. Here he found its only
+ inmate a poor asthmatic old man, stretched on his pallet,
+ apparently at the point of death. As he sat by his bed-side, he
+ "crooned," so as to be audible, it seems, to the patient, the
+ following elegiac ditty, in which, it will be observed, he alludes
+ to the death, then recent, of Pelham, an eminent statesman of
+ George the Second's reign. As he was finishing his ditty, the old
+ man's feelings were moved in a way which will be found in the
+ appended note. This is one of Sir Walter Scott's extracts in the
+ _Quarterly_, and is now attempted in the measure of the original.
+
+
+ How often, Death! art waking
+ The imploring cry of Nature!
+ When she sees her phalanx breaking,
+ As thou'dst have all--grim feature!
+ Since Autumn's leaves to brownness,
+ Of deeper shade were tending,
+ We saw thy step, from palaces,
+ To Evan's nook descending.
+ Oh, long, long thine agony!
+ A nameless length its tide;
+ Since breathless thou hast panted here,
+ And not a friend beside.
+ Thine errors what, I judge not;
+ What righteous deeds undone;
+ But if remains a se'ennight,
+ Redeem it, dying one!
+
+ Oh, marked we, Death! thy teachings true,
+ What dust of time would blind?
+ Such thy impartiality
+ To our highest, lowest kind.
+ Thy look is upwards, downwards shot,
+ Determined none to miss;
+ It rose to Pelham's princely bower,
+ It sinks to shed like this!
+ Oh, long, long, &c.!
+ So great thy victims, that the noble
+ Stand humbled by the bier;
+ So poor, it shames the poorest
+ To grace them with a tear.
+ Between the minister of state
+ And him that grovels there,
+ Should one remain uncounselled,
+ Is there one whom dool shall spare?
+ Oh, long, long, &c.!
+ The hail that strews the battle-field
+ Not louder sounds its call,
+ Than the falling thousands round us
+ Are voicing words to all.
+ Hearken! least of all the nameless;
+ Evan's hour is going fast;
+ Hearken! greatest of earth's great ones--
+ Princely Pelham's hour is past.
+ Oh, long, long, &c.!
+ Friends of my heart! in the twain we see
+ A type of life's declining;
+ 'Tis like the lantern's dripping light,
+ At either end a-dwining.
+ Where was there one more low than thou--
+ Thou least of meanest things?[101]
+ And where than his was higher place
+ Except the throne of kings?
+ Oh, long, long, &c.!
+
+
+[101] At this humiliating apostrophe, the beggar is reported to have
+instinctively raised his staff--an action which the bard observed just
+in time to avoid its descent on his back.
+
+
+
+
+DOUGAL BUCHANAN.
+
+
+Dougal Buchanan was born at the Mill of Ardoch, in the beautiful valley
+of Strathyre, and parish of Balquhidder, in the year 1716. His parents
+were in circumstances to allow him the education of the parish school;
+on which, by private application, he so far improved, as to be qualified
+to act as teacher and catechist to the Highland locality which borders
+on Loch Rannoch, under the appointment of the Society for Propagating
+Christian Knowledge. Never, it is believed, were the duties of a calling
+discharged with more zeal and efficiency. The catechist was, both in and
+out of the strict department of his office, a universal oracle,[102] and
+his name is revered in the scene of his usefulness in a degree to which
+the honours of canonization could scarcely have added. Pious, to the
+height of a proverbial model, he was withal frank, cheerful, and social;
+and from his extraordinary command of the Gaelic idiom, and its poetic
+phraseology, he must have lent an ear to many a song and many a
+legend[103]--a nourishment of the imagination in which, as well as in
+purity of Gaelic, his native Balquhidder was immeasurably inferior to
+the Rannoch district of his adoption.
+
+The composition of hymns, embracing a most eloquent and musical
+paraphrase of many of the more striking inspirations of scriptural
+poetry, seems to have been the favourite employment of his leisure
+hours. These are sung or recited in every cottage of the Highlands where
+a reader or a retentive memory is to be found.
+
+Buchanan's life was short. He was cut off by typhus fever, at a period
+when his talents had begun to attract a more than local attention. It
+was within a year after his return from superintending the press of the
+first version of the Gaelic New Testament, that his lamented death took
+place. His command of his native tongue is understood to have been
+serviceable to the translator, the Rev. James Stewart of Killin, who had
+probably been Buchanan's early acquaintance, as they were natives of the
+same district. This reverend gentleman is said to have entertained a
+scheme of getting the catechist regularly licensed to preach the gospel
+without the usual academical preparation. The scheme was frustrated by
+his death, in the summer of 1768.
+
+We know of no fact relating to the development of the poetic vein of
+this interesting bard, unless it be found in the circumstance to which
+he refers in his "Diary,"[104] of having been bred a violent Jacobite,
+and having lived many years under the excitement of strong, even
+vindictive feelings, at the fate of his chief and landlord (Buchanan of
+Arnprior and Strathyre), who, with many of his dependents, and some of
+the poet's relations, suffered death for their share in the last
+rebellion. While he relates that the power of religion at length
+quenched this effervescence of his emotions, it may be supposed that
+ardent Jacobitism, with its common accompaniment of melody, may have
+fostered an imagination which every circumstance proves to have been
+sufficiently susceptible. It may be added, as a particular not unworthy
+of memorial in a poet's life, that his remains are deposited in perhaps
+the most picturesque place of sepulture in the kingdom--the peninsula of
+Little Leny, in the neighbourhood of Callander; to which his relatives
+transferred his body, as the sepulchre of many chiefs and considerable
+persons of his clan, and where it is perhaps matter of surprise that his
+Highland countrymen have never thought of honouring his memory with some
+kind of monument.
+
+The poetic remains of Dougal Buchanan do not afford extensive materials
+for translation. The subjects with which he deals are too solemn, and
+their treatment too surcharged with scriptural imagery, to be available
+for the purposes of a popular collection, of which the object is not
+directly religious. The only exception that occurs, perhaps, is his poem
+on "The Skull." Even in this case some moral pictures[105] have been
+omitted, as either too coarsely or too solemnly touched, to be fit for
+our purpose. A few lines of the conclusion are also omitted, as being
+mere amplifications of Scripture--wonderful, indeed, in point of
+vernacular beauty or sublimity, but not fusible for other use. Slight
+traces of imitation may be perceived; "The Grave" of Blair, and some
+passages of "Hamlet," being the apparent models.
+
+
+[102] "Statistical Account of Fortingall."--Stat. Acc., x., p. 549.
+
+[103] The same account observes that though none of his works are
+published but his sacred compositions, he composed "several songs on
+various subjects."
+
+[104] Published at Glasgow, 1836.
+
+[105] These are his descriptions of "The Drunkard," "The Glutton," and
+"The Good and Wicked Pastor."
+
+
+
+
+A CLAGIONN.
+
+THE SKULL.
+
+
+ As I sat by the grave, at the brink of its cave
+ Lo! a featureless skull on the ground;
+ The symbol I clasp, and detain in my grasp,
+ While I turn it around and around.
+ Without beauty or grace, or a glance to express
+ Of the bystander nigh, a thought;
+ Its jaw and its mouth are tenantless both,
+ Nor passes emotion its throat.
+ No glow on its face, no ringlets to grace
+ Its brow, and no ear for my song;
+ Hush'd the caves of its breath, and the finger of death
+ The raised features hath flatten'd along.
+ The eyes' wonted beam, and the eyelids' quick gleam--
+ The intelligent sight, are no more;
+ But the worms of the soil, as they wriggle and coil,
+ Come hither their dwellings to bore.
+ No lineament here is left to declare
+ If monarch or chief art thou;
+ Alexander the Brave, as the portionless slave
+ That on dunghill expires, is as low.
+ Thou delver of death, in my ear let thy breath
+ Who tenants my hand, unfold;
+ That my voice may not die without a reply,
+ Though the ear it addresses is cold.
+ Say, wert thou a May,[106] of beauty a ray,
+ And flatter'd thine eye with a smile?
+ Thy meshes didst set, like the links of a net,
+ The hearts of the youth to wile?
+ Alas every charm that a bosom could warm
+ Is changed to the grain of disgust!
+ Oh, fie on the spoiler for daring to soil her
+ Gracefulness all in the dust!
+ Say, wise in the law, did the people with awe
+ Acknowledge thy rule o'er them--
+ A magistrate true, to all dealing their due,
+ And just to redress or condemn?
+ Or was righteousness sold for handfuls of gold
+ In the scales of thy partial decree;
+ While the poor were unheard when their suit they preferr'd,
+ And appeal'd their distresses to thee?
+ Say, once in thine hour, was thy medicine of power
+ To extinguish the fever of ail?
+ And seem'd, as the pride of thy leech-craft e'en tried
+ O'er omnipotent death to prevail?
+ Alas, that thine aid should have ever betray'd
+ Thy hope when the need was thine own;
+ What salve or annealing sufficed for thy healing
+ When the hours of thy portion were flown?
+ Or--wert thou a hero, a leader to glory,
+ While armies thy truncheon obey'd;
+ To victory cheering, as thy foemen careering
+ In flight, left their mountains of dead?
+ Was thy valiancy laid, or unhilted thy blade,
+ When came onwards in battle array
+ The sepulchre-swarms, ensheathed in their arms,
+ To sack and to rifle their prey?
+ How they joy in their spoil, as thy body the while
+ Besieging, the reptile is vain,
+ And her beetle-mate blind hums his gladness to find
+ His defence in the lodge of thy brain!
+ Some dig where the sheen of the ivory has been,
+ Some, the organ where music repair'd;
+ In rabble and rout they come in and come out
+ At the gashes their fangs have bared.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ Do I hold in my hand a whole lordship of land,
+ Represented by nakedness, here?
+ Perhaps not unkind to the helpless thy mind,
+ Nor all unimparted thy gear;
+ Perhaps stern of brow to thy tenantry thou!
+ To leanness their countenances grew--
+ 'Gainst their crave for respite, when thy clamour for right
+ Required, to a moment, its due;
+ While the frown of thy pride to the aged denied
+ To cover their head from the chill,
+ And humbly they stand, with their bonnet in hand,
+ As cold blows the blast of the hill.
+ Thy serfs may look on, unheeding thy frown,
+ Thy rents and thy mailings unpaid;
+ All praise to the stroke their bondage that broke!
+ While but claims their obeisance the dead.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ Or a head do I clutch, whose devices were such,
+ That death must have lent them his sting--
+ So daring they were, so reckless of fear,
+ As heaven had wanted a king?
+ Did the tongue of the lie, while it couch'd like a spy
+ In the haunt of thy venomous jaws,
+ Its slander display, as poisons its prey
+ The devilish snake in the grass?
+ That member unchain'd, by strong bands is restrain'd,
+ The inflexible shackles of death;
+ And, its emblem, the trail of the worm, shall prevail
+ Where its slaver once harbour'd beneath.
+ And oh! if thy scorn went down to thine urn
+ And expired, with impenitent groan;
+ To repose where thou art is of peace all thy part,
+ And then to appear--at the Throne!
+ Like a frog, from the lake that leapeth, to take
+ To the Judge of thy actions the way,
+ And to hear from His lips, amid nature's eclipse,
+ Thy sentence of termless dismay.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ The hardness of iron thy bones shall environ,
+ To brass-links the veins of thy frame
+ Shall stiffen, and the glow of thy manhood shall grow
+ Like the anvil that melts not in flame!
+ But wert thou the mould of a champion bold
+ For God and his truth and his law?
+ Oh, then, though the fence of each limb and each sense
+ Is broken--each gem with a flaw--
+ Be comforted thou! For rising in air
+ Thy flight shall the clarion obey;
+ And the shell of thy dust thou shalt leave to be crush'd,
+ If they will, by the creatures of prey.
+
+
+[106] Maiden or virgin--_orig._
+
+
+
+
+AM BRUADAR.
+
+THE DREAM.
+
+ We submit these further illustrations of the moral maxims of "The
+ Skull." In the original they are touched in phraseology scarcely
+ unworthy of the poet's Saxon models.
+
+
+ As lockfasted in slumber's arms
+ I lay and dream'd (so dreams our race
+ When every spectral object charms,
+ To melt, like shadow, in the chase),
+
+ A vision came; mine ear confess'd
+ Its solemn sounds. "Thou man distraught!
+ Say, owns the wind thy hand's arrest,
+ Or fills the world thy crave of thought?
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ "Since fell transgression ravaged here
+ And reft Man's garden-joys away,
+ He weeps his unavailing tear,
+ And straggles, like a lamb astray.
+
+ "With shrilling bleat for comfort hie
+ To every pinfold, humankind;
+ Ah, there the fostering teat is dry,
+ The stranger mother proves unkind.
+
+ "No rest for toil, no drink for drought,
+ For bosom-peace the shadow's wing--
+ So feeds expectancy on nought,
+ And suckles every lying thing.
+
+ "Some woe for ever wreathes its chain,
+ And hope foretells the clasp undone;
+ Relief at handbreadth seems, in vain
+ Thy fetter'd arms embrace--'tis gone!
+
+ "Not all that trial's lore unlearns
+ Of all the lies that life betrays,
+ Avails, for still desire returns--
+ The last day's folly is to-day's.
+
+ "Thy wish has prosper'd--has its taste
+ Survived the hour its lust was drown'd;
+ Or yields thine expectation's zest
+ To full fruition, golden-crown'd?
+
+ "The rosebud is life's symbol bloom,
+ 'Tis loved, 'tis coveted, 'tis riven--
+ Its grace, its fragrance, find a tomb,
+ When to the grasping hand 'tis given.
+
+ "Go, search the world, wherever woe
+ Of high or low the bosom wrings,
+ There, gasp for gasp, and throe for throe,
+ Is answer'd from the breast of kings.
+
+ "From every hearth-turf reeks its cloud,
+ From every heart its sigh is roll'd;
+ The rose's stalk is fang'd--one shroud
+ Is both the sting's and honey's fold.
+
+ "Is wealth thy lust--does envy pine
+ Where high its tempting heaps are piled?
+ Look down, behold the fountain shine,
+ And, deeper still, with dregs defiled!
+
+ "Quickens thy breath with rash inhale,
+ And falls an insect[107] in its toil?
+ The creature turns thy life-blood pale,
+ And blends thine ivory teeth with soil.
+
+ "When high thy fellow-mortal soars,
+ His state is like the topmost nest--
+ It swings with every blast that roars,
+ And every motion shakes its crest.
+
+ "And if the world for once is kind,
+ Yet ever has the lot its bend;
+ Where fortune has the crook inclined,
+ Not all thy strength or art shall mend.
+
+ "For as the sapling's sturdy stalk,
+ Whose double twist is crossly strain'd,
+ Such is thy fortune--sure to baulk
+ At this extreme what there was gain'd.
+
+ "When Heaven its gracious manna hail'd,
+ 'Twas vain who hoarded its supply,
+ Not all his miser care avail'd
+ His neighbour's portion to outvie.
+
+ "So, blended all that nature owns,
+ So, warp'd all hopes that mortals bless--
+ With boundless wealth, the sufferer's groans;
+ With courtly luxury, distress.
+
+ "Lift up the balance--heap with gold,
+ Its other shell vile dust shall fill;
+ And were a kingdom's ransom told,
+ The scales would want adjustment still.
+
+ "Life has its competence--nor deem
+ That better than enough were more;
+ Sure it were phantasy to dream
+ With burdens to assuage thy sore.
+
+ "It is the fancy's whirling strife
+ That breeds thy pain--to-day it craves,
+ To-morrow spurns--suffices life
+ When passion asks what passion braves?
+
+ "Should appetite her wish achieve,
+ To herd with brutes her joy would bound;
+ Pleased other paradise to leave,
+ Content to pasture on the ground.
+
+ "But pride rebels, nor towers alone
+ Beyond that confine's lowly sphere--
+ Seems as from the Eternal Throne
+ It aim'd the sceptre's self to tear.
+
+ "'Tis thus we trifle, thus we dare;
+ But, seek we to our bliss the way,
+ Let us to Heaven our path refer,
+ Believe, and worship, and obey.
+
+ "That choice is all--to range beyond
+ Nor must, nor needs; provision, grace,
+ In these He gives, who sits enthroned,
+ Salvation, competence, and peace."
+
+ The instructive vision pass'd away,
+ But not its wisdom's dreamless lore;
+ No more in shadow-tracks I stray,
+ And fondle shadow-shapes no more.
+
+
+[107] _Orig._--The venomous red spider.
+
+
+
+
+DUNCAN MACINTYRE.
+
+
+Duncan Macintyre (Donacha Ban) is considered by his countrymen the most
+extraordinary genius that the Highlands in modern times have produced.
+Without having learned a letter of any alphabet, he was enabled to pour
+forth melodies that charmed every ear to which they were intelligible.
+And he is understood to have had the published specimens of his poetry
+committed to writing by no mean judge of their merit,--the late Dr
+Stewart of Luss,--who, when a young man, became acquainted with this
+extraordinary person, in consequence of his being employed as a kind of
+under-keeper in a forest adjoining to the parish of which the Doctor's
+father was minister.
+
+Macintyre was born in Druimliart of Glenorchy on the 20th of March 1724,
+and died in October 1812. He was chiefly employed in the capacity of
+keeper in several of the Earl of Breadalbane's forests. He carried a
+musket, however, in his lordship's fencibles; which led him to take
+part, much against his inclination, in the Whig ranks at the battle of
+Falkirk. Later in life he transferred his musket to the Edinburgh City
+Guard.
+
+Macintyre's best compositions are those which are descriptive of forest
+scenes, and those which he dedicated to the praise of his wife. His
+verses are, however, very numerous, and embrace a vast variety of
+subjects. From the extraordinary diffusiveness of his descriptions, and
+the boundless luxuriance of his expressions, much difficulty has been
+experienced in reproducing his strains in the English idiom.
+
+
+
+
+MAIRI BHAN OG.
+
+MARY, THE YOUNG, THE FAIR-HAIR'D.
+
+
+ My young, my fair, my fair-hair'd Mary,
+ My life-time love, my own!
+ The vows I heard, when my kindest dearie
+ Was bound to me alone,
+ By covenant true, and ritual holy,
+ Gave happiness all but divine;
+ Nor needed there more to transport me wholly,
+ Than the friends that hail'd thee mine.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ 'Twas a Monday morn, and the way that parted
+ Was far, but I rivall'd the wind,
+ The troth to plight with a maiden true-hearted,
+ That force can never unbind.
+ I led her apart, and the hour that we reckon'd,
+ While I gain'd a love and a bride,
+ I heard my heart, and could tell each second,
+ As its pulses struck on my side.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ I told my ail to the foe that pain'd me,
+ And said that no salve could save;
+ She heard the tale, and her leech-craft it sain'd me,
+ For herself to my breast she gave.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ Forever, my dear, I 'll dearly adore thee
+ For chasing away, away,
+ My fancy's delusion, new loves ever choosing,
+ And teaching no more to stray.
+ I roam'd in the wood, many a tendril surveying,
+ All shapely from branch to stem,
+ My eye, as it look'd, its ambition betraying
+ To cull the fairest from them;
+ One branch of perfume, in blossom all over,
+ Bent lowly down to my hand,
+ And yielded its bloom, that hung high from each lover,
+ To me, the least of the band.
+ I went to the river, one net-cast I threw in,
+ Where the stream's transparence ran,
+ Forget shall I never, how the beauty[108] I drew in,
+ Shone bright as the gloss of the swan.
+ Oh, happy the day that crown'd my affection
+ With such a prize to my share!
+ My love is a ray, a morning reflection,
+ Beside me she sleeps, a star.
+
+
+[108] Gaelic, "gealag"--descriptive of the salmon, from its glossy
+brightness.
+
+
+
+
+BENDOURAIN, THE OTTER MOUNT.
+
+
+Bendourain is a forest scene in the wilds of Glenorchy. The poem, or
+lay, is descriptive, less of the forest, or its mountain fastnesses,
+than of the habits of the creatures that tenant the locality--the
+dun-deer, and the roe. So minutely enthusiastic is the hunter's
+treatment of his theme, that the attempt to win any favour for his
+performance from the Saxon reader, is attended with no small
+risk,--although it is possible that a little practice with the rifle in
+any similar wilderness may propitiate even the holiday sportsman
+somewhat in favour of the subject and its minute details. We must commit
+this forest minstrel to the good-nature of other readers, entreating
+them only to render due acknowledgment to the forbearance which has, in
+the meantime, troubled them only with the first half of the performance,
+and with a single stanza of the finale. The composition is always
+rehearsed or sung to pipe music, of which it is considered, by those who
+understand the original, a most extraordinary echo, besides being in
+other respects a very powerful specimen of Gaelic minstrelsy.
+
+
+ URLAR.
+
+ The noble Otter hill!
+ It is a chieftain Beinn,[109]
+ Ever the fairest still
+ Of all these eyes have seen.
+ Spacious is his side;
+ I love to range where hide,
+ In haunts by few espied,
+ The nurslings of his den.
+ In the bosky shade
+ Of the velvet glade,
+ Couch, in softness laid,
+ The nimble-footed deer;
+ To see the spotted pack,
+ That in scenting never slack,
+ Coursing on their track,
+ Is the prime of cheer.
+ Merry may the stag be,
+ The lad that so fairly
+ Flourishes the russet coat
+ That fits him so rarely.
+ 'Tis a mantle whose wear
+ Time shall not tear;
+ 'Tis a banner that ne'er
+ Sees its colours depart:
+ And when they seek his doom,
+ Let a man of action come,
+ A hunter in his bloom,
+ With rifle not untried:
+ A notch'd, firm fasten'd flint,
+ To strike a trusty dint,
+ And make the gun-lock glint
+ With a flash of pride.
+ Let the barrel be but true,
+ And the stock be trusty too,
+ So, Lightfoot,[110] though he flew,
+ Shall be purple-dyed.
+ He should not be novice bred,
+ But a marksman of first head,
+ By whom that stag is sped,
+ In hill-craft not unskill'd;
+ So, when Padraig of the glen
+ Call'd his hounds and men,
+ The hill spake back again,
+ As his orders shrill'd;
+ Then was firing snell,
+ And the bullets rain'd like hail,
+ And the red-deer fell
+ Like warrior on the field.
+
+
+ SIUBHAL.
+
+ Oh, the young doe so frisky,
+ So coy, and so fair,
+ That gambols so briskly,
+ And snuffs up the air;
+ And hurries, retiring,
+ To the rocks that environ,
+ When foemen are firing,
+ And bullets are there.
+ Though swift in her racing,
+ Like the kinsfolk before her,
+ No heart-burst, unbracing
+ Her strength, rushes o'er her.
+ 'Tis exquisite hearing
+ Her murmur, as, nearing,
+ Her mate comes careering,
+ Her pride, and her lover;--
+ He comes--and her breathing
+ Her rapture is telling;
+ How his antlers are wreathing,
+ His white haunch, how swelling!
+ High chief of Bendorain,
+ He seems, as adoring
+ His hind, he comes roaring
+ To visit her dwelling.
+ 'Twere endless my singing
+ How the mountain is teeming
+ With thousands, that bringing
+ Each a high chief's[111] proud seeming,
+ With his hind, and her gala
+ Of younglings, that follow
+ O'er mountain and beala,[112]
+ All lightsome are beaming.
+ When that lightfoot so airy,
+ Her race is pursuing,
+ Oh, what vision saw e'er a
+ Feat of flight like her doing?
+ She springs, and the spreading grass
+ Scarce feels her treading,
+ It were fleet foot that sped in
+ Twice the time that she flew in.
+ The gallant array!
+ How the marshes they spurn,
+ In the frisk of their play,
+ And the wheelings they turn,--
+ As the cloud of the mind
+ They would distance behind,
+ And give years to the wind,
+ In the pride of their scorn!
+ 'Tis the marrow of health
+ In the forest to lie,
+ Where, nooking in stealth,
+ They enjoy her[113] supply,--
+ Her fosterage breeding
+ A race never needing,
+ Save the milk of her feeding,
+ From a breast never dry.
+ Her hill-grass they suckle,
+ Her mammets[114] they swill,
+ And in wantonness chuckle
+ O'er tempest and chill;
+ With their ankles so light,
+ And their girdles[115] of white,
+ And their bodies so bright
+ With the drink of the rill.
+ Through the grassy glen sporting
+ In murmurless glee,
+ Nor snow-drift nor fortune
+ Shall urge them to flee,
+ Save to seek their repose
+ In the clefts of the knowes,
+ And the depths of the howes
+ Of their own Eas-an-ti.[116]
+
+
+ URLAR.
+
+ In the forest den, the deer
+ Makes, as best befits, his lair,
+ Where is plenty, and to spare,
+ Of her grassy feast.
+ There she browses free
+ On herbage of the lea,
+ Or marsh grass, daintily,
+ Until her haunch is greased.
+ Her drink is of the well,
+ Where the water-cresses swell,
+ Nor with the flowing shell
+ Is the toper better pleased.
+ The bent makes nobler cheer,
+ Or the rashes of the mere,
+ Than all the creagh that e'er
+ Gave surfeit to a guest.
+ Come, see her table spread;
+ The _sorach_[117] sweet display'd
+ The _ealvi_,[118] and the head
+ Of the daisy stem;
+ The _dorach_[119] crested, sleek,
+ And ringed with many a streak,
+ Presents her pastures meek,
+ Profusely by the stream.
+ Such the luxuries
+ That plump their noble size,
+ And the herd entice
+ To revel in the howes.
+ Nobler haunches never sat on
+ Pride of grease, than when they batten
+ On the forest links, and fatten
+ On the herbs of their carouse.
+ Oh, 'tis pleasant, in the gloaming,
+ When the supper-time
+ Calls all their hosts from roaming,
+ To see their social prime;
+ And when the shadows gather,
+ They lair on native heather,
+ Nor shelter from the weather
+ Need, but the knolls behind.
+ Dread or dark is none;
+ Their 's the mountain throne,
+ Height and slope their own,
+ The gentle mountain kind;
+ Pleasant is the grace
+ Of their hue, and dappled dress,
+ And an ark in their distress,
+ In Bendorain dear they find.
+
+
+ SIUBHAL.
+
+ So brilliant thy hue
+ With tendril and flow'ret,
+ The grace of the view,
+ What land can o'erpower it?
+ Thou mountain of beauty,
+ Methinks it might suit thee,
+ The homage of beauty
+ To claim as a queen.
+ What needs it? Adoring
+ Thy reign, we see pouring
+ The wealth of their store in
+ Already, I ween.
+ The seasons--scarce roll'd once,
+ Their gifts are twice told--
+ And the months, they unfold
+ On thy bosom their dower,
+ With profusion so rare,
+ Ne'er was clothing so fair,
+ Nor was jewelling e'er
+ Like the bud and the flower
+ Of the groves on thy breast,
+ Where rejoices to rest
+ His magnificent crest,
+ The mountain-cock, shrilling
+ In quick time, his note;
+ And the clans of the grot
+ With melody's note,
+ Their numbers are trilling.
+ No foot can compare,
+ In the dance of the green,
+ With the roebuck's young heir;
+ And here he is seen
+ With his deftness of speed,
+ And his sureness of tread,
+ And his bend of the head,
+ And his freedom of spring!
+ Over corrie careers he,
+ The wood-cover clears he,
+ And merrily steers he
+ With bound, and with fling,--
+ As he spurns from his stern
+ The heather and fern,
+ And dives in the dern[120]
+ Of the wilderness deep;
+ Or, anon, with a strain,
+ And a twang of each vein
+ He revels amain
+ 'Mid the cliffs of the steep.
+ With the burst of a start
+ When the flame of his heart
+ Impels to depart,
+ How he distances all!
+ Two bounds at a leap,
+ The brown hillocks to sweep,
+ His appointment to keep
+ With the doe, at her call.
+ With her following, the roe
+ From the danger of ken
+ Couches inly, and low,
+ In the haunts of the glen;
+ Ever watchful to hear,
+ Ever active to peer,
+ Ever deft to career,--
+ All ear, vision, and limb.
+ And though Cult[121] and Cuchullin,
+ With their horses and following,
+ Should rush to her dwelling,
+ And our prince[122] in his trim,
+ They might vainly aspire
+ Without rifle and fire
+ To ruffle or nigh her,
+ Her mantle to dim.
+ Stark-footed, lively,
+ Ever capering naively
+ With motion alive, aye,
+ And wax-white, in shine,
+ When her startle betrays
+ That the hounds are in chase,
+ The same as the base
+ Is the rocky decline--
+ She puffs from her chest,
+ And she ambles her crest
+ And disdain is express'd
+ In her nostril and eye;--
+ That eye--how it winks!
+ Like a sunbeam it blinks,
+ And it glows, and it sinks,
+ And is jealous and shy!
+ A mountaineer lynx,
+ Like her race that 's gone by.
+
+
+ CRUNLUATH (FINALE).
+
+ Her lodge is in the valley--here
+ No huntsman, void of notion,
+ Should hurry on the fallow deer,
+ But steal on her with caution;--
+ With wary step and watchfulness
+ To stalk her to her resting place,
+ Insures the gallant wight's success,
+ Before she is in motion.
+ The hunter bold should follow then,
+ By bog, and rock, and hollow, then,
+ And nestle in the gulley, then,
+ And watch with deep devotion
+ The shadows on the benty grass,
+ And how they come, and how they pass;
+ Nor must he stir, with gesture rash,
+ To quicken her emotion.
+ With nerve and eye so wary, sir,
+ That straight his piece may carry, sir,
+ He marks with care the quarry, sir,
+ The muzzle to repose on;
+ And now, the knuckle is applied,
+ The flint is struck, the priming tried,
+ Is fired, the volley has replied,
+ And reeks in high commotion;--
+ Was better powder ne'er to flint,
+ Nor trustier wadding of the lint--
+ And so we strike a telling dint,
+ Well done, my own Nic-Coisean![123]
+
+
+[109] Anglicised into _Ben_.
+
+[110] The deer.
+
+[111] Stag of the first head.
+
+[112] Pass.
+
+[113] Any one who has heard a native attempt the Lowland tongue for the
+first time, is familiar with the personification that turns every
+inanimate object into _he_ or _she_. The forest is here happily
+personified as a nurse or mother.
+
+[114] Bog-holes.
+
+[115] Stripings.
+
+[116] _Gaelic_--Easan-an-tsith.
+
+[117] Primrose.
+
+[118] St John's wort.
+
+[119] A kind of cress, or marshmallow.
+
+[120] _Anglice_--dark.
+
+[121] _Gaelic_--Caoillt; who, with Cuchullin, makes a figure in
+traditional Gaelic poetry.
+
+[122] _Gaelic_--King George.
+
+[123] Literally--"From the barrel of Nic-Coisean." This was the poet's
+favourite gun, to which his muse has addressed a separate song of
+considerable merit.
+
+
+
+
+THE BARD TO HIS MUSKET.[124]
+
+ Macintyre acted latterly as a constable of the City Guard of
+ Edinburgh, a situation procured him by the Earl of Breadalbane, at
+ his own special request; that benevolent nobleman having inquired
+ of the bard what he could do for him to render him independent in
+ his now advanced years. His salary as a peace-officer was sixpence
+ a-day; but the poet was so abundantly satisfied with the attainment
+ of his position and endowments, that he gave expression to his
+ feelings of satisfaction in a piece of minstrelsy, which in the
+ original ranks among his best productions. Of this ode we are
+ enabled to present a faithful metrical translation, quite in the
+ spirit of the original, as far as conversion of the Gaelic into the
+ Scottish idiom is practicable. The version was kindly undertaken at
+ our request by Mr William Sinclair, the ingenious author of "Poems
+ of the Fancy and the Affections," who has appropriately adapted it
+ to the lively tune, "Alister M'Alister." The song, remarks Mr
+ Sinclair, is much in the spirit, though in a more humorous strain,
+ of the famous Sword Song, beginning in the translation, "Come
+ forth, my glittering Bride," composed by Theodore Koerner of
+ Dresden, and the last and most remarkable of his patriotic
+ productions, wherein the soldier addresses his sword as his bride,
+ thereby giving expression to the most glowing sentiments of
+ patriotism. Macintyre addresses as his wife the musket which he
+ carried as an officer of the guard; and is certainly as
+ enthusiastic in praise of his new acquisition, as ever was
+ love-sick swain in eulogy of the most attractive fair one.
+
+
+ Oh! mony a turn of woe and weal
+ May happen to a Highlan' man;
+ Though he fall in love he soon may feel
+ He cannot get the fancied one;
+ The first I loved in time that 's past,
+ I courted twenty years, ochone!
+ But she forsook me at the last,
+ And Duncan then was left alone.
+
+ To Edinbro' I forthwith hied
+ To seek a sweetheart to my mind,
+ An', if I could, to find a bride
+ For the fause love I left behind;
+ Said Captain Campbell of the Guard,
+ "I ken a widow secretly,
+ An' I 'll try, as she 's no that ill faur'd,
+ To put her, Duncan, in your way."
+
+ As was his wont, I trow, did he
+ Fulfil his welcome promise true,
+ He gave the widow unto me,
+ And all her portion with her too;
+ And whosoe'er may ask her name,
+ And her surname also may desire,
+ They call her Janet[125]--great her fame--
+ An' 'twas George who was her grandsire.
+
+ She 's quiet, an' affable, an' free,
+ No vexing gloom or look at hand,
+ As high in rank and in degree
+ As any lady in the land;
+ She 's my support and my relief,
+ Since e'er she join'd me, any how;
+ Great is the cureless cause of grief
+ To him who has not got her now!
+
+ Nic-Coisean[126] I 've forsaken quite,
+ Altho' she liveth still at ease--
+ An' allow the crested stags to fight
+ And wander wheresoe'er they please,
+ A young wife I have chosen now,
+ Which I repent not any where,
+ I am not wanting wealth, I trow,
+ Since ever I espoused the fair.
+
+ I pass my word of honour bright--
+ Most excellent I do her call;
+ In her I ne'er, in any light,
+ Discover'd any fault at all.
+ She is stately, fine, an' straight, an' sound,
+ Without a hidden fault, my friend;
+ In her, defect I never found,
+ Nor yet a blemish, twist, or bend.
+
+ When needy folk are pinch'd, alas!
+ For money in a great degree;
+ Ah, George's daughter--generous lass--
+ Ne'er lets my pockets empty be;
+ She keepeth me in drink, and stays
+ By me in ale-houses and all,
+ An' at once, without a word, she pays
+ For every stoup I choose to call!
+
+ An' every turn I bid her do
+ She does it with a willing grace;
+ She never tells me aught untrue,
+ Nor story false, with lying face;
+ She keeps my rising family
+ As well as I could e'er desire,
+ Although no labour I do try,
+ Nor dirty work for love or hire.
+
+ I labour'd once laboriously,
+ Although no riches I amass'd;
+ A menial I disdain'd to be,
+ An' keep my vow unto the last.
+ I have ceased to labour in the lan',
+ Since e'er I noticed to my wife,
+ That the idle and contented man
+ Endureth to the longest life.
+
+ 'Tis my musket--loving wife, indeed--
+ In whom I faithfully believe,
+ She 's able still to earn my bread,
+ An' Duncan she will ne'er deceive;
+ I 'll have no lack of linens fair,
+ An' plenty clothes to serve my turn,
+ An' trust me that all worldly care
+ Now gives me not the least concern.
+
+
+[124] The "Auld Town Guard" of Edinburgh, which existed before the
+Police Acts came into operation, was composed principally of
+Highlandmen, some of them old pensioners. Their rendezvous, or place of
+resort, was in the vicinity of old St Giles's Church, where they might
+generally be found smoking, snuffing, and speaking in the true Highland
+vernacular. Archie Campbell, celebrated by Macintyre as "Captain
+Campbell," was the last, and a favourable specimen of this class of
+civic functionaries. He was a stout, tall man; and, dressed in his "knee
+breeks and buckles, wi' the red-necked coat, and the cocked hat," he
+considered himself of no ordinary importance. He had a most thorough
+contempt for grammar, and looked upon the Lord Provost as the greatest
+functionary in the world. He delighted to be called "the Provost's
+right-hand man." Archie is still well remembered by many of the
+inhabitants of Edinburgh, as he was quite a character in the city. In
+dealing with a prisoner, Archie used to impress him with the idea that
+he could do great things for him by merely speaking to "his honour the
+Provost;" and when locking a prisoner up in the Tolbooth, he would say
+sometimes--"There, my lad, I cannot do nothing more for you!" He took
+care to give his friends from the Highlands a magnificent notion of his
+great personal consequence, which, of course, they aggrandised when they
+returned to the hills.
+
+[125] A byeword for a regimental firelock.
+
+[126] A favourite fowling-piece, alluded to in Bendourain, and
+elsewhere.
+
+
+
+
+JOHN MACODRUM.
+
+
+Jan Macodrum, the Bard of Uist, was patronised by an eminent judge of
+merit, Sir James Macdonald of Skye,--of whom, after a distinguished
+career at Oxford, such expectations were formed, that on his premature
+death at Rome he was lamented as the Marcellus of Scotland.
+
+Macodrum's name is cited in the Ossianic controversy, upon Sir James's
+report, as a person whose mind was stored with Ossianic poetry, of which
+Macpherson gave to the world the far-famed specimens. A humorous story
+is told of Macodrum (who was a noted humorist) having trifled a little
+with the translator when he applied for a sample of the old Fingalian,
+in the words, "Hast thou got anything of, or on, (equivalent in Gaelic
+to _hast thou anything to get of_) the Fingalian heroes?" "If I have,"
+quoth Macodrum, "I fear it is now irrecoverable."
+
+Macodrum, whose real patronymic is understood to have been Macdonald,
+lived to lament his patron in elegiac strains--a fact that brings the
+time in which he flourished down to 1766.
+
+His poem entitled the "Song of Age," is admired by his countrymen for
+its rapid succession of images (a little too mixed or abrupt on some
+occasions), its descriptive power, and its neatness and flow of
+versification.
+
+
+
+
+ORAN NA H-AOIS,
+
+THE SONG OF AGE.
+
+
+ Should my numbers essay to enliven a lay,
+ The notes would betray the languor of woe;
+ My heart is o'erthrown, like the rush of the stone
+ That, unfix'd from its throne, seeks the valley below.
+ The _veteran of war_, that knows not to spare,
+ And offers us ne'er the respite of peace,
+ Resistless comes on, and we yield with a groan,
+ For under the sun is no hope of release.
+ 'Tis a sadness I ween, how the glow and the sheen
+ Of the rosiest mien from their glory subside;
+ How hurries the hour on our race, that shall lower
+ The arm of our power, and the step of our pride.
+ As scatter and fail, on the wing of the gale,
+ The mist of the vale, and the cloud of the sky,
+ So, dissolving our bliss, comes the hour of distress,
+ Old age, with that face of aversion to joy.
+ Oh! heavy of head, and silent as lead,
+ And unbreathed as the dead, is the person of Age;
+ Not a joint, not a nerve--so prostrate their verve--
+ In the contest shall serve, or the feat to engage.
+ To leap with the best, or the billow to breast,
+ Or the race prize to wrest, were but effort in vain;
+ On the message of death pours an Egypt of wrath,[127]
+ The fever's hot breath, the dart-shot of pain.
+ Ah, desolate eld! the wretch that is held
+ By thy grapple, must yield thee his dearest supplies;
+ The friends of our love at thy call must remove,--
+ What boots how they strove from thy bands to arise?
+ They leave us, deplore as it wills us,--our store,
+ Our strength at the core, and our vigour of mind;
+ Remembrance forsakes us, distraction o'ertakes us,
+ Every love that awakes us, we leave it behind.
+ Thou spoiler of grace, that changest the face
+ To hasten its race on the route to the tomb,
+ To whom nothing is dear, unaffection'd the ear,
+ Emotion is sere, and expression is dumb;
+ Of spirit how void, thy passions how cloy'd,
+ Thy pith how destroy'd, and thy pleasure how gone!
+ To the pang of thy cries not an echo replies,
+ Even sympathy dies--and thy helper is none.
+ We see thee how stripp'd of each bloom that equipp'd
+ Thy flourish, till nipp'd the winter thy rose;
+ Till the spoiler made bare the scalp of the hair,
+ And the ivory[128] tare from its sockets' repose.
+ Thy skinny, thy cold, thy visageless mould,
+ Its disgust is untold, and its surface is dim;
+ What a signal of wrack is the wrinkle's dull track,
+ And the bend of the back, and the limp of the limb!
+ Thou leper of fear--thou niggard of cheer--
+ Where glory is dear, shall thy welcome be found?
+ Thou contempt of the brave--oh, rather the grave,
+ Than to pine as the slave that thy fetters have bound.
+ Like the dusk of the day is thy colour of gray,
+ Thou foe of the lay, and thou phantom of gloom;
+ Thou bane of delight--when thy shivering plight,
+ And thy grizzle of white,[129] and thy crippleness, come
+ To beg at the door; ah, woe for the poor,
+ And the greeting unsure that grudges their bread;
+ All unwelcome they call--from the hut to the hall
+ The confession of all is, "_'Tis time he were dead_!"
+
+The picturesque portion of the description here terminates. With respect
+to the moral and religious application, it is but just to the poet to
+say, that before the close he appeals in pathetic terms to the young,
+warning them not to boast of their strength, or to abuse it; and that he
+concludes his lay with the sentiment, that whatever may be the ills of
+"age," there are worse that await an unrepenting death, and a suffering
+eternity.
+
+
+[127] Alluding to the plagues.
+
+[128] The teeth.
+
+[129] _Gaelic_--Matted, rough, gray beard.
+
+
+
+
+NORMAN MACLEOD;
+
+OR, TORMAID BAN.
+
+
+Single-speech Hamilton may be said to have had his _marrow_ in a
+Highland bard, nearly his contemporary, whose one effort was attended
+with more lasting popularity than the sole oration of that celebrated
+person. The clan song of the Mackenzies is the composition in question,
+and its author is now ascertained to have been a gentleman, or farmer of
+the better class, of the name of Norman Macleod, a native of Assynt[130]
+in Sutherland. The most memorable particular known of this person,
+besides the production of his poetic effort, is his having been the
+father of a Glasgow professor,[131] whom we remember occupying the chair
+of Church History in the university in very advanced age, about 1814,
+assisted by a helper and successor; and of another son, who was the
+respected minister of Rogart till towards the end of last century.
+
+The date of "Caberfae" is not exactly ascertained. It was composed
+during the exile of Lord Seaforth, but, we imagine, before the '45, in
+which he did not take part, and while Macshimei (Lord Lovat) still
+passed for a Whig. In Mackenzie's excellent collection (p. 361), a
+later date is assigned to the production.
+
+The Seaforth tenantry, who (after the manner of the clans) privately
+supported their chief in his exile, appear to have been much aggrieved
+by some proceedings of the loyalist, Monro of Fowlis, who, along with
+his neighbour of Culloden and Lovat, were probably acting under
+government commission, in which the interests of the crown were seconded
+by personal or family antagonism. The loyal family of Sutherland, who
+seem by grant or lease to have had an interest in the estates, also come
+in for a share of the bard's resentment.
+
+All this forms the subject of "Caberfae," which, without having much
+meaning or poetry, served, like the celebrated "Lillibulero," to animate
+armies, and inflame party spirit to a degree that can scarcely be
+imagined. The repetition of "the Staghead, when rises his cabar on,"
+which concludes every strophe, is enough at any time to bring a
+Mackenzie to his feet, or into the forefront of battle,--being a simple
+allusion to the Mackenzie crest, allegorised into an emblem of the stag
+at bay, or ready in his ire to push at his assailant. The cabar is the
+horn, or, rather, the "tine of the first-head,"--no ignoble emblem,
+certainly, of clannish fury and impetuosity. The difficulty of the
+measure compels us to the use of certain metrical freedoms, and also of
+some Gaelic words, for which is craved the reader's indulgence.
+
+
+[130] In Stat. Ac. said to be of Lochbroom, vol. xiv., p. 79.
+
+[131] Hugh Macleod.
+
+
+
+
+CABERFAE,
+
+THE STAGHEAD.[132]
+
+
+ A health to Caberfae,
+ A toast, and a cheery one,
+ That soon return he may,
+ Though long and far his tarrying.
+ The death of shame befal me,
+ Be riven off my eididh[133] too,
+ But my fancy hears thy call--we
+ Should all be _up and ready, O_!
+ 'Tis I have seen thy weapon keen,
+ Thine arm, inaction scorning,
+ Assign their dues to the Munroes,
+ Their _welcome_ in the morning.
+ Nor stood the Catach[134] to his bratach[135]
+ For dread of a belabouring,
+ When up gets the Staghead,
+ And raises his cabar on.
+
+ Woe to the man of Folais,[136]
+ When he to fight must challenge thee;
+ Nor better fared the Roses[137]
+ That lent _Monro_ their valiancy.
+ The Granndach[138] and the Frazer,[139]
+ They tarried not the melee in;
+ Fled Forbes,[140] in dismay, sir,
+ Culloden-wards, undallying.
+ Away they ran, while firm remain,
+ Not one to three, retiring so,
+ The earl,[141] the craven, took to haven,
+ Scarce a pistol firing, O!
+ Mackay[142] of Spoils, his heart recoils,
+ He cries in haste his cabul[143] on,
+ He flies--as soars the Staghead,
+ And raises his cabar on.
+
+ Like feather'd creatures flying,
+ That in the hill-mist shiver,
+ In haste for refuge hieing,
+ To the meadow or the river--
+ So, port they sought, and took to boat,
+ Bewailing what had happened them,
+ To trust was rash, the missing flash
+ Of the rusty guns that weapon'd them.
+ The coracle of many a skull,
+ The relics of his neighbour, on,
+ Monro retreats[144]--for Staghead
+ Is raising his cabar on.
+
+ I own my expectation,--
+ 'Tis this has roused my apathy,
+ That He who rules creation
+ May change the dismal hap of thee,
+ And hasten to restore thee
+ In safety from thy danger,
+ To thine own, in joy and glory,
+ To save us from the stranger.
+ With princely grace to give redress,
+ Nor a taunt to suffer back again;
+ The fell Monro has felt thy blow,
+ And should he dare attack again,
+ Then as he flew, he 'll run anew,
+ The flames to quench he 'll labour on,
+ Of castle fired--when Staghead
+ High raises his cabar on!
+
+ I 've seen thee o'er the lowly,
+ A gracious chieftain ever,
+ The Catach[145] self below thee,
+ And the Gallach[145] cower'd for cover;
+ But ever more their striving,
+ When claim'd respect thine eye,
+ Thy scourge corrected, driving
+ To other lands to fly.
+ Thy loyal crew of clansmen true,
+ No panic fear shall turn them,
+ With steel-cap, blade, and _skene_ array'd,
+ Their banning foes they spurn them.
+ Clan-Shimei[146] then may dare them,
+ They 'll fly, had each a sabre on,
+ Needs but a look--when Staghead
+ Once raises his cabar on.
+
+ Mounts not the wing a fouler thing,
+ Than thy vaunted crest, the eagle,[147] O!
+ Inglorious chief! to boast the thief,
+ That forays with the beagle, O!
+ For shame! preferr'd that ravening bird![148]
+ My song shall raise the mountain-deer;
+ The prey he scorns, the carcase spurns,
+ He loves the cress, the fountain cheer.
+ His lodge is in the forest;--
+ While carion-flesh enticing
+ Thy greedy maw, thou buriest
+ Thou kite of prey! thy claws in
+ The putrid corse of famish'd horse,
+ The greedy hound a-striving
+ To rival thee in gluttony,
+ Both at the bowels riving.
+ Thou called the _true bird_![149]--Never,
+ Thou foster child of evil,[150] ha!
+ How ill match with thy feather[151]
+ The talons[152] of thy devilry!
+ But when thy foray preys on
+ Our harmless flocks, so dastardly,
+ How often has the shepherd
+ With trusty baton master'd thee;
+ Well in thy fright hast timed thy flight,
+ Else, not alone, belabouring,
+ He 'd gored thee with the Staghead,
+ Up-raising his cabar on.[153]
+
+ Woe worth the world, deceiver--
+ So false, so fair of seeming!
+ We 've seen the noble Siphort[154]
+ With all his war-notes[155] screaming;
+ When not a chief in Albain,
+ Mac-Ailein's[156] self though backing him,
+ Could face his frown--as Staghead
+ Arose with his cabar on.
+
+ To join thy might, when call'd the right,
+ A gallant army springing on,
+ Would rise, from Assint to the crags
+ Of Scalpa, rescue bringing on.
+ Each man upon, true-flinted gun,
+ Steel glaive, and trusty dagaichean;
+ With the Island Lord of Sleite,[157]
+ When up rose thy cabar on!
+
+ Came too the men of Muideart,[158]
+ While stream'd their flag its bravery;
+ Their gleaming weapons, blue-dyed,[159]
+ That havock'd on the cavalry.
+ Macalister,[160] Mackinnon,
+ With many a flashing trigger there,
+ The foemen rushing in on,
+ Resistless shew'd their vigour there.
+ May fortune free thee--may we see thee
+ Again in Braun,[161] the turreted,
+ Girt with thy clan! And not a man
+ But will get the scorn he merited.
+ Then wine will play, and usquebae
+ From flaggons, and from badalan,[162]
+ And pipers scream--when Staghead
+ High raises his cabar on.
+
+
+[132] Applicable both to the chief and his crest.
+
+[133] Literally, "_the dress_," (pron. _eidi_,) _i.e._, Highland garb,
+not yet abolished.
+
+[134] Sutherlanders, or Caithness men.
+
+[135] Banner.
+
+[136] Monro of Fowlis.
+
+[137] Rose of Kilravock and his clan.
+
+[138] Grant of Grant.
+
+[139] Lovat.
+
+[140] Of Culloden.
+
+[141] Of Sutherland.
+
+[142] Lord Reay.
+
+[143] Steed. The Celtic "Cabul" and Latin "Caballus" correspond.
+
+[144] Here the bard is a little obscure; but he seems to mean that the
+Monroes made their escape over the skulls of the dead, as if they were
+boats or coracles by which to cross or get away from danger.
+
+[145] The Caithness and Sutherland men.
+
+[146] Lovat's men.
+
+[147] The eagle being the crest of the Monro.
+
+[148] The _eagle_; the crest of Monro of Fowlis. The filthy and cruel
+habits of this predatory bird are here contrasted with the
+forest-manners of the stag in a singular specimen of clan vituperation.
+
+[149] _Fioreun_, the name of the eagle, signifying true bird.
+
+[150] Literally--Accursed by Moses, or the Mosaic law.
+
+[151] The single eagle's feather crested the chieftain's bonnet.
+
+[152] Literally--If thy feather is noble, thy claws are (of) the devil!
+
+[153] This picture of the eagle is not much for edification--nor another
+hit at the lion of the Macdonalds, then at feud with the Seaforth. The
+former is abridged, and the latter omitted; as also a lively detail of
+the _creagh_, in which the Monroes are reproached with their spoilages
+of cheese, butter, and winter-mart beef.
+
+[154] Seaforth.
+
+[155] Literally--Bagpipes.
+
+[156] Macallammore: Argyle.
+
+[157] Macdonald of Sleat.
+
+[158] Clanranald's country.
+
+[159] Literally--Of blue steel.
+
+[160] Mac-Mhic-Alister, the patronymic of Glengary.
+
+[161] Castle Brahan, Seaforth's seat.
+
+[162] _Gaelic_--Barrels of liquor, properly _buidealan_.
+
+
+END OF VOL. I.
+
+
+
+
+GLOSSARY.
+
+
+_A-low_, on fire.
+
+_Ava_, at all.
+
+_Ayont_, beyond.
+
+_Ban_, swear.
+
+_Bang_, to change place hastily.
+
+_Bangster_, a violent person.
+
+_Bawks_, the cross-beams of a roof.
+
+_Bein_, good, suitable.
+
+_Bicker_, a dish for holding liquor.
+
+_Boddle_, an old Scottish coin--value the third of a penny.
+
+_Boggie_, a marsh.
+
+_Brag_, vaunt.
+
+_Braw_, gaily dressed.
+
+_Busk_, to attire oneself.
+
+_Buss_, bush.
+
+_Cantie_, cheerful.
+
+_Castocks_, the pith of stalks of cabbages.
+
+_Caw_, to drive.
+
+_Chat_, talk.
+
+_Chuckies_, chickens.
+
+_Chuffy_, clownish.
+
+_Clavering_, talking idly.
+
+_Cleeding_, clothing.
+
+_Clishmaclavers_, idle talk.
+
+_Clocksie_, vivacious.
+
+_Cock-up_, a hat or cap turned up before.
+
+_Coft_, purchased.
+
+_Cogie_, a hollow wooden vessel.
+
+_Coozy_, warm.
+
+_Cosie_, snug, comfortable.
+
+_Cowt_, cattle.
+
+_Creel_, a basket.
+
+_Croft_, a tenement of land.
+
+_Croon_, to make a plaintive sound.
+
+_Crouse_, brisk.
+
+_Crusie_, a small lamp.
+
+_Cuddle_, embrace.
+
+_Curpin_, the crupper of a saddle.
+
+_Cuttie_, a short pipe.
+
+_Daff_, sport.
+
+_Daut_, caress.
+
+_Daud_, blow.
+
+_Daunder_, to walk thoughtlessly.
+
+_Dautit_, fondled.
+
+_Dirdum_, tumult.
+
+_Disjasket_, having appearance of decay.
+
+_Doited_, stupid.
+
+_Dool_, grief.
+
+_Dorty_, a foolish urchin.
+
+_Douf_, dull.
+
+_Dowie_, sad.
+
+_Draigle_, draggle.
+
+_Dringing_, delaying.
+
+_Drone_, sound of bagpipes.
+
+_Dung_, defeated.
+
+_Eerie_, timorous.
+
+_Eident_, wary.
+
+_Elf_, a puny creature.
+
+_Fashious_, troublesome.
+
+_Fauld_, a fold.
+
+_Ferlies_, remarkable things.
+
+_Fleyt_, frightened.
+
+_Fogie_, a stupid old person.
+
+_Foumart_, a pole-cat.
+
+_Fraise_, flattery.
+
+_Frumpish_, crumpled.
+
+_Gabbit_, a person prone to idle talk.
+
+_Gart_, compelled.
+
+_Giggle_, unmeaning laughter.
+
+_Gin_, if.
+
+_Girse_, grass.
+
+_Glaikit_, stupid.
+
+_Glamrie_, the power of enchantment.
+
+_Glower_, stare.
+
+_Grusome_, frightful.
+
+_Grist_, the fee paid at the mill for grinding.
+
+_Gutchir_, grandfather.
+
+_Gutters_, mud, wet dust.
+
+_Hain_, save, preserve.
+
+_Hap_, cover.
+
+_Havens_, endowments.
+
+_Henny_, honey, a familiar term of affection among the peasantry.
+
+_Hinkum_, that which is put up in hanks or balls, as thread.
+
+_Howe_, a hollow.
+
+_Hyne_, hence.
+
+_Kail_, cabbages, colewort.
+
+_Kebbuck_, a cheese.
+
+_Keil_, red clay, used for marking.
+
+_Ken_, know.
+
+_Kenspeckle_, having a singular appearance.
+
+_Leal_, honest, faithful.
+
+_Leese me_, pleased am I with.
+
+_Lyart_, gray-haired.
+
+_Loof_, the palm of the hand.
+
+_Lowin_, warm.
+
+_Lucky, A_, an old woman.
+
+_Luntin_, smoking.
+
+_Mailin_, a farm.
+
+_Maukin_, a hare.
+
+_Mirk_, dark.
+
+_Mishanter_, a sorry scrape.
+
+_Mittens_, gloves without fingers.
+
+_Mouldie_, crumbling.
+
+_Mouls_, the earth of the grave.
+
+_Mows_, easy.
+
+_Mutch_, a woman's cap.
+
+_Neip_, a turnip.
+
+_Neive_, the closed fist.
+
+_Nippen_, carried off surreptitiously.
+
+_Ouk_, week.
+
+_Owerlay_, a cravat.
+
+_Perk_, push.
+
+_Perlins_, women's ornaments.
+
+_Poortith_, poverty.
+
+_Preed_, tasted.
+
+_Randy_, a scold, a shrew.
+
+_Rate_, slander.
+
+_Rink_, run about.
+
+_Routh_, abundance.
+
+_Rummulgumshin_, common sense.
+
+_Sabbit_, sobbed.
+
+_Scant_, scarce.
+
+_Scartle_, a graip or fork.
+
+_Scrimply_, barely.
+
+_Scug_, shelter.
+
+_Seer_, sure.
+
+_Shaw_, a plantation.
+
+_Shiel_, a sheep shed.
+
+_Skeigh_, timorous.
+
+_Skiffin_, moving lightly.
+
+_Smeddum_, sagacity.
+
+_Snooded_, the hair bound up.
+
+_Spaewife,_ a female fortune-teller.
+
+_Spence_, a larder.
+
+_Steenies_, guineas.
+
+_Sud_, should.
+
+_Sumph_, a soft person.
+
+_Swankie_, a clever young fellow.
+
+_Sweir_, indolent.
+
+_Syne_, then.
+
+_Tabbit_, benumbed.
+
+_Tapsle-teerie_, topsyturvy.
+
+_Ted_, toad.
+
+_Thairms_, strings.
+
+_Thowless_, thoughtless.
+
+_Thraw_, twist.
+
+_Tint_, lost.
+
+_Tirl_, to uncover.
+
+_Tocher_, dowry.
+
+_Toss_, toast.
+
+_Towmond_, a year.
+
+_Trig_, neat, trim.
+
+_Tryst_, appointment.
+
+_Tyced_, made diversion.
+
+_Vauntit_, boasted.
+
+_Weel_, will.
+
+_Whigmigmorum_, political ranting.
+
+_Wile_, choice.
+
+_Wist_, wished.
+
+_Wizen_, the throat.
+
+_Wow_, vow.
+
+
+EDINBURGH: PRINTED BY BALLANTYNE AND COMPANY.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Modern Scottish Minstrel , Volume
+I., by Various
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MODERN SCOTTISH MINSTREL ***
+
+***** This file should be named 18396.txt or 18396.zip *****
+This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:
+ http://www.gutenberg.org/1/8/3/9/18396/
+
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+
+
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