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diff --git a/19525.txt b/19525.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..1f70577 --- /dev/null +++ b/19525.txt @@ -0,0 +1,10252 @@ +Project Gutenberg's The Modern Scottish Minstrel, Volume IV., 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 IV. + The Songs of Scotland of the Past Half Century + +Author: Various + +Release Date: October 11, 2006 [EBook #19525] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MODERN SCOTTISH MINSTREL *** + + + + +Produced by Susan Skinner, Ted Garvin 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. IV. + + +CAMPBELL + + +EDINBURGH: +ADAM & CHARLES BLACK, NORTH BRIDGE, +BOOKSELLERS AND PUBLISHERS TO THE QUEEN.] + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: + +Henry Scott Riddell. + +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 IV. + +EDINBURGH: +ADAM & CHARLES BLACK, NORTH BRIDGE, +BOOKSELLERS AND PUBLISHERS TO HER MAJESTY. + +MDCCCLVII. + + +EDINBURGH: +PRINTED BY BALLANTYNE AND COMPANY, +PAUL'S WORK. + + + + +TO + +FRANCIS BENNOCH, ESQ., F.S.A., + +ONE OF THE MOST ACCOMPLISHED OF LIVING SCOTTISH SONG-WRITERS, +AND THE MUNIFICENT PATRON OF MEN OF LETTERS, + +THIS FOURTH VOLUME + +OF + +The Modern Scottish Minstrel + +IS DEDICATED, + +WITH SINCERE REGARD AND ESTEEM, + +BY + +HIS VERY FAITHFUL SERVANT, + +CHARLES ROGERS. + + + + +THE INFLUENCE OF BURNS + +ON + +SCOTTISH POETRY AND SONG: + +An Essay. + +BY THE REV. GEORGE GILFILLAN. + + +It is exceedingly difficult to settle the exact place of, as well as to +compute the varied influences wielded by, a great original genius. Every +such mind borrows so much from his age and from the past, as well as +communicates so much from his own native stores, that it is difficult to +determine whether he be more the creature or the creator of his period. +But, ere determining the influence exerted by Burns on Scottish song and +poetry, it is necessary first to inquire what he owed to his +predecessors in the art, as well as to the general Scottish atmosphere +of thought, feeling, scenery and manners. + +First of all, Burns felt, in common with his _forbears_ in the genealogy +of Scottish song, the inspiring influences breathing from our +mountain-land, and from the peculiar habits and customs of a "people +dwelling alone, and not reckoned among the nations." He was not born in +a district peculiarly distinguished for romantic beauty--we mean, in +comparison with some other regions of Scotland. The whole course of the +Ayr, as Currie remarks, is beautiful; and beautiful exceedingly the Brig +of Doon, especially as it now shines through the magic of the Master's +poetry. But it yields to many other parts of Scotland, some of which +Burns indeed afterwards saw, although his matured genius was not much +profited by the sight. Ayrshire--even with the peaks of Arran bounding +the view seaward--cannot vie with the scenery around Edinburgh; with +Stirling--its links and blue mountains; with "Gowrie's Carse, beloved of +Ceres, and Clydesdale to Pomona dear;" with Straths Tay and Earn, with +their two fine rivers flowing from finer lakes, through corn-fields, +woods, and rocks, to melt into each other's arms in music, near the fair +city of Perth; with the wilder and stormier courses of the Spey, the +Findhorn, and the Dee; with the romantic and song-consecrated precincts +of the Border; with the "bonnie hills o' Gallowa" and Dumfriesshire; or +with that transcendent mountain region stretching up along Lochs Linnhe, +Etive, and Leven--between the wild, torn ridges of Morven and +Appin--uniting Ben Cruachan to Ben Nevis, and including in its sweep the +lonely and magnificent Glencoe--a region unparalleled in wide Britain +for its quantity and variety of desolate grandeur, where every shape is +bold, every shape blasted, but all blasted at such different angles as +to produce endless diversity, and yet where the whole seems twisted into +a certain terrible harmony; not to speak of the glorious isles + + "Placed far amid the melancholy main," + +Iona, which, being interpreted, means the "Island of the Waves," the +rocky cradle of Scotland's Christianity; Staffa with grass growing above +the unspeakable grandeur which lurks in the cathedral-cave below, and +cows peacefully feeding over the tumultuous surge which forms the organ +of the eternal service; and Skye, with its Loch Coriskin, piercing like +a bright arrow the black breast of the shaggy hills of Cuchullin. Burns +had around him only the features of ordinary Scottish scenery, but from +these he drank in no common draught of inspiration; and how admirably +has he reproduced such simple objects as the "burn stealing under the +lang yellow broom," and the "milk-white thorn that scents the evening +gale," the "burnie wimplin' in its glen," and the + + "Rough bur-thistle spreadin' wide + Amang the bearded bear." + +These objects constituted the poetry of his own fields; they were linked +with his own joys, loves, memories, and sorrows, and these he felt +impelled to enshrine in song. It may, indeed, be doubted if his cast of +mind would have led him to sympathise with bold and savage scenery. In +proof of this, we remember that, although he often had seen the gigantic +ridges of Arran looming through the purple evening air, or with the +"morning suddenly spread" upon their summer summits, or with premature +snow tinging their autumnal tops, he never once alludes to them, so far +as we remember, either in his poetry or prose; and that although he +spent a part of his youth on the wild smuggling coast of Carrick, he has +borrowed little of his imagery from the sea--none, we think, except the +two lines in the "Vision"-- + + "I saw thee seek the sounding shore, + Delighted with the dashing roar." + +His descriptions are almost all of inland scenery. Yet, that there was a +strong sense of the sublime in his mind is manifest from the lines +succeeding the above-- + + "And when the North his fleecy store + Drove through the sky, + I saw grim Nature's visage hoar + Struck thy young eye;" + +as well as from the delight he expresses in walking beside a planting in +a windy day, and listening to the blast howling through the trees and +raving over the plain. Perhaps his mind was most alive to the sublimity +of _motion_, of agitation, of tumultuous energy, as exhibited in a +snow-storm, or in the "torrent rapture" of winds and waters, because +they seemed to sympathise with his own tempestuous passions, even as the +fierce Zanga, in the "Revenge," during a storm, exclaims--- + + "I like this rocking of the battlements. + Rage on, ye winds; burst clouds, and waters roar! + You bear a just resemblance of my fortune, + And suit the gloomy habit of my soul." + +Probably Burns felt little admiration of the calm, colossal grandeur of +mountain-scenery, where there are indeed vestiges of convulsion and +agony, but where age has softened the storm into stillness, and where +the memory of former strife and upheaving only serves to deepen the +feeling of repose--vestiges which, like the wrinkles on the stern brow +of the Corsair, + + "Speak of passion, but of passion past." + +With these records of bygone "majestic pains," on the other hand, the +genius of Milton and Wordsworth seemed made to sympathise; and the +former is never greater than standing on Niphates Mount with Satan, or +upon the "hill of Paradise the highest" with Michael, or upon the +"Specular Mount" with the Tempter and the Saviour; and the latter is +always most himself beside Skiddaw or Helvellyn. Byron professes vast +admiration for Lochnagar and the Alps; but the former is seen through +the enchanting medium of distance and childish memory; and among the +latter, his rhapsodies on Mont Blanc, and the cold "thrones of eternity" +around him, are nothing to his pictures of torrents, cataracts, +thunderstorms; in short, of all objects where unrest--the leading +feeling in _his_ bosom--constitutes the principal element in _their_ +grandeur. It is curious, by the way, how few good descriptions there +exist in poetry of views _from_ mountains. Milton has, indeed, some +incomparable ones, but all imaginary--such, at least, as no actual +mountain on earth can command; but, in other poets, we at this moment +remember no good one. They seem always looking up _to_, not down from, +mountains. Wordsworth has given us, for example, no description of the +view from Skiddaw; and there does not exist, in any Scottish poetical +author, a first-rate picture of the view either from Ben Lomond, +Schehallion, Ben Cruachan, or Ben Nevis. + +After all, Burns was more influenced by some other characteristics of +Scotland than he was by its scenery. There was, first, its romantic +history. _That_ had not then been separated, as it has since been, from +the mists of fable, but lay exactly in that twilight point of view best +adapted for arousing the imagination. To the eye of Burns, as it glared +back into the past, the history of his country seemed intensely +poetical--including the line of early kings who pass over the stage of +Boece' and Buchanan's story as their brethren over the magic glass of +Macbeth's witches--equally fantastic and equally false--the dark +tragedy of that terrible thane of Glammis and Cawdor--the deeds of +Wallace and Bruce--the battle of Flodden--and the sad fate of Queen +Mary; and from most of these themes he drew an inspiration which could +scarcely have been conceived to reside even in them. On Wallace, Bruce, +and Queen Mary, his mind seems to have brooded with peculiar +intensity--on the two former, because they were patriots; and on the +latter, because she was a beautiful woman; and his allusions to them +rank with the finest parts in his or any poetry. He seemed especially +adapted to be the poet-laureate of Wallace--a modern edition, somewhat +improved, of the broad, brawny, ragged bard who actually, it is +probable, attended in the train of Scotland's patriot hero, and whose +constant occupation it was to change the gold of his achievements into +the silver of song. Scottish manners, too, as well as history, exerted a +powerful influence on Scotland's peasant-poet. They were then far more +peculiar than now, and had only been faintly or partially represented by +previous poets. Thus, the christening of the _wean_, with all its +ceremony and all its mirth--Hallowe'en, with its "rude awe and +laughter"--the "Rockin'"--the "Brooze"--the Bridal--and a hundred other +intensely Scottish and very old customs, were all ripe and ready for the +poet, and many of them he has treated, accordingly, with consummate +felicity and genius. It seems almost as if the _final cause_ of their +long-continued existence were connected with the appearance, in due +time, of one who was to extract their finest essence, and to embalm them +for ever in his own form of ideal representation. + +Burns, too, doubtless derived much from previous poets. This is a common +case, as we have before hinted, with even the most original. Had not +Shakspeare and Milton been "celestial thieves," their writings would +have been far less rich and brilliant than they are; although, had they +not possessed true originality, they would not have taken their present +lofty position in the world of letters. So, to say that Burns was much +indebted to his predecessors, and that he often imitated Ramsay and +Fergusson, and borrowed liberally from the old ballads, is by no means +to derogate from his genius. If he took, he gave with interest. The most +commonplace songs, after they had, as he said, "got a brushing" from his +hands, assumed a totally different aspect. Each ballad was merely a +piece of canvas, on which he inscribed his inimitable paintings. +Sometimes even by a single word he proclaimed the presence of the +master-poet, and by a single stroke exalted a daub into a picture. His +imitations of Ramsay and Fergusson far surpass the originals, and remind +you of Landseer's dogs, which seem better than the models from which he +drew. When a king accepts a fashion from a subject, he glorifies it, and +renders it the rage. It was in this royal style that Burns treated the +inferior writers who had gone before him; and although he highly admired +and warmly praised them, he must have felt a secret sense of his own +vast superiority. + +We come now shortly to speak of the influence he has exerted on Scottish +poetry. This was manifold. In the first place, a number were encouraged +by his success to collect and publish their poems, although few of them +possessed much merit; and he complained that some were a wretched +"spawn" of mediocrity, which the sunshine of his fame had warmed and +brought forth prematurely. Lapraik, for instance, was induced by the +praise of Burns to print an edition of his poems, which turned out a +total failure. There was only one good piece in it all, and _that_ was +pilfered from an old magazine. Secondly, Burns exerted an inspiring +influence on some men of real genius, who, we verily believe, would, but +for Burns, have never written, or, at least, written so well--such as +Alexander Wilson, Tannahill, Macneil, Hogg, and the numerous members of +the "Whistle-Binkie" school. In all these writers we trace the influence +of the large "lingering star" of the genius of Burns. "Wattie and Meg," +by Wilson, when it first appeared anonymously, was attributed to Burns. +Tannahill is, in much of his poetry, an echo of Burns, although in +song-writing he is a real original. Macneil was roused by Burns' praises +of whisky to give a _per contra_, in his "Scotland's Scaith; or, the +History of Will and Jean." And although the most of Hogg's poetry is +entirely original, we find the influence of Burns distinctly marked in +some of his songs--such as the "Kye come Hame." + +But there is a wider and more important light in which to regard the +influence of our great national Bard. He first fully revealed the +interest and the beauty which lie in the simpler forms of Scottish +scenery, he darted light upon the peculiarities of Scottish manners, and +he opened the warm heart of his native land. Scotland, previous to +Burns' poetry, was a spring shut up and a fountain sealed. + + "She lay like some unkenned-of isle + Ayont New Holland." + +The glories of her lakes, her glens, her streams, her mountains, the +hardy courage, the burning patriotism, the trusty attachments, the +loves, the games, the superstitions, and the devotion of her +inhabitants, were all unknown and unsuspected as themes for song till +Burns took them up, and less added glory than shewed the glory that was +in them, and shewed also that they opened up a field nearly +inexhaustible. Writers of a very high order were thus attracted to +Scotland, not merely as their native country, but as a theme for poetry; +and, while disdaining to imitate Burns' poetry slavishly, and some of +them not writing in verse at all, they found in Scottish subjects ample +scope for the exercise of their genius; and in some measure to his +influence we may attribute the fictions of Mrs Hamilton and Miss +Ferrier, Scott's poems and novels, Galt's, Lockhart's, Wilson's, +Delta's, and Aird's tales and poetry, and much of the poetry of +Campbell, who, although he never writes in Scotch, has embalmed, in his +"Lochiel's Warning," "Glenara," "Lord Ullin's Daughter," some +interesting subjects connected with Scotland, and has, in "Gertrude of +Wyoming," and in the "Pilgrim of Glencoe," made striking allusions to +Scottish scenery. That the progress of civilisation, apart from Burns, +would have ultimately directed the attention of cultivated men to a +country so peculiar and poetical as Scotland cannot be doubted; but the +rise of Burns hastened the result, as being itself a main element in +propelling civilisation and diffusing genuine taste. His dazzling +success, too, excited emulation in the breasts of our men of genius, as +well as tended to exalt in their eyes a country which had produced such +a stalwart and gifted son. We may, indeed, apply to the feeling of pride +which animates Scotchmen, and particularly Scotchmen in other lands, at +the thought of Burns being their countryman, the famous lines of +Dryden-- + + "Men met each other with erected look, + The steps were higher that they took; + Each to congratulate his friends made haste, + And long inveterate foes saluted as they pass'd." + +The poor man, says Wilson, as he speaks of Burns, always holds up his +head and regards you with an elated look. Scotland has become more +venerable, more beautiful, more glorious in the eyes of her children, +and a fitter theme for poetry, since the feet of Burns rested on her +fields, and since his ardent eyes glowed with enthusiasm as he saw her +scenery, and as he sung her praise; while to many in foreign parts she +is chiefly interesting as being (what a portion of her has long been +called) the Land of Burns. + +The real successors of Burns, it is thus manifest, were not Tannahill or +Macneil, but Sir Walter Scott, Campbell, Aird, Delta, Galt, Allan +Cunningham, and Professor Wilson. To all of these, Burns, along with +Nature, united in teaching the lessons of simplicity, of brawny +strength, of clear common sense, and of the propriety of staying at home +instead of gadding abroad in search of inspiration. All of these have +been, like Burns, more or less intensely Scottish in their subjects and +in their spirit. + +That Burns' errors as a man have exerted a pernicious influence on many +since, is, we fear, undeniable. He had been taught, by the lives of the +"wits," to consider aberration, eccentricity, and "devil-may-careism" as +prime badges of genius, and he proceeded accordingly to astonish the +natives, many of whom, in their turn, set themselves to copy his faults. +But when we subtract some half-dozen pieces, either coarse in language +or equivocal in purpose, the influence of his poetry may be considered +good. (We of course say nothing here of the volume called the "Merry +Muses," still extant to disgrace his memory.) It is doubtful if his +"Willie brew'd a peck o' Maut" ever made a drunkard, but it is certain +that his "Cottar's Saturday Night" has converted sinners, edified the +godly, and made some erect family altars. It has been worth a thousand +homilies. And, taking his songs as a whole, they have done much to stir +the flames of pure love, of patriotism, of genuine sentiment, and of a +taste for the beauties of nature. And it is remarkable that all his +followers and imitators have, almost without exception, avoided his +faults while emulating his beauties; and there is not a sentence in +Scott, or Campbell, or Aird, or Delta, and not many in Wilson or Galt, +that can be charged with indelicacy, or even coarseness. So that, on the +whole, we may assert that, whatever evil he did by the example of his +life, he has done very little--but, on the contrary, much good, both +artistically and morally, by the influence of his poetry. + + + + +CONTENTS. + + PAGE +HENRY SCOTT RIDDELL, 1 + The wild glen sae green, 49 + Scotia's thistle, 50 + The land of gallant hearts, 51 + The yellow locks o' Charlie, 52 + We 'll meet yet again, 53 + Our ain native land, 54 + The Grecian war-song, 56 + Flora's lament, 57 + When the glen all is still, 58 + Scotland yet, 58 + The minstrel's grave, 60 + My own land and loved one, 61 + The bower of the wild, 62 + The crook and plaid, 63 + The minstrel's bower, 65 + When the star of the morning, 66 + Though all fair was that bosom, 67 + Would that I were where wild-woods wave, 68 + O tell me what sound, 69 + Our Mary, 70 + +MRS MARGARET M. INGLIS, 73 + Sweet bard of Ettrick's Glen, 75 + Young Jamie, 76 + Charlie's bonnet's down, laddie, 77 + Heard ye the bagpipe? 78 + Bruce's address, 79 + Removed from vain fashion, 80 + When shall we meet again? 81 + +JAMES KING, 83 + The lake is at rest, 85 + Life 's like the dew, 86 + +ISOBEL PAGAN, 88 + Ca' the yowes to the knowes, 89 + +JOHN MITCHELL, 90 + Beauty, 91 + To the evening star, 92 + O waft me to the fairy clime, 92 + The love-sick maid, 93 + +ALEXANDER JAMIESON, 95 + The maid who wove, 96 + A sigh and a smile, 97 + +JOHN GOLDIE, 98 + And can thy bosom, 100 + Sweet 's the dew, 101 + +ROBERT POLLOK, 103 + The African maid, 105 + +J. C. DENOVAN, 106 + Oh! Dermot, dear loved one, 107 + +JOHN IMLAH, 108 + Kathleen, 109 + Hielan' heather, 110 + Farewell to Scotland, 111 + The rose of Seaton Vale, 112 + Katherine and Donald, 113 + Guid nicht, and joy be wi' you a', 114 + The gathering, 115 + Mary, 116 + Oh! gin I were where Gadie rins, 117 + +JOHN TWEEDIE, 120 + Saw ye my Annie? 121 + +THOMAS ATKINSON, 122 + Mary Shearer, 124 + +WILLIAM GARDINER, 126 + Oh! Scotland's hills for me, 127 + +ROBERT HOGG, 129 + Queen of fairy's song, 131 + When autumn comes, 132 + Bonnie Peggie, O! 133 + A wish burst, 133 + I love the merry moonlight, 135 + Oh, what are the chains of love made of? 136 + +JOHN WRIGHT, 137 + An autumnal cloud, 139 + The maiden fair, 140 + The old blighted thorn, 141 + The wrecked mariner, 141 + +JOSEPH GRANT, 143 + The blackbird's hymn is sweet, 145 + Love's adieu, 146 + +DUGALD MOORE, 147 + Rise, my love, 149 + Julia, 150 + Lucy's grave, 152 + The forgotten brave, 153 + The first ship, 154 + Weep not, 155 + To the Clyde, 156 + +REV. T. G. TORRY ANDERSON, 158 + The Araby maid, 160 + The maiden's vow, 160 + I love the sea, 162 + +GEORGE ALLAN, 163 + Is your war-pipe asleep? 166 + I will think of thee yet, 167 + Lassie, dear lassie, 168 + When I look far down on the valley below me, 169 + I will wake my harp when the shades of even, 170 + +THOMAS BRYDSON, 172 + All lovely and bright, 173 + +CHARLES DOYNE SILLERY, 174 + She died in beauty, 177 + The Scottish blue bells, 177 + +ROBERT MILLER, 179 + Where are they? 179 + Lay of the hopeless, 180 + +ALEXANDER HUME, 182 + My wee, wee wife, 187 + O, poverty! 187 + Nanny, 188 + My Bessie, 189 + Menie Hay, 190 + I 've wander'd on the sunny hill, 192 + Oh! years hae come, 193 + My mountain hame, 194 + +THOMAS SMIBERT, 195 + The Scottish widow's lament, 197 + The hero of St. John D'Acre, 199 + Oh! bonnie are the howes, 200 + Oh! say na you maun gang awa, 201 + +JOHN BETHUNE, 203 + Withered flowers, 207 + A spring song, 208 + +ALLAN STEWART, 211 + The sea boy, 212 + Menie Lorn, 213 + The young soldier, 214 + The land I love, 215 + +ROBERT L. MALONE, 216 + The thistle of Scotland, 217 + Hame is aye hamely, 218 + +PETER STILL, 220 + Jeanie's lament, 221 + Ye needna be courtin' at me, 222 + The bucket for me, 223 + +ROBERT NICOLL, 225 + Orde Braes, 228 + The Muir o' Gorse and Broom, 229 + The bonnie Hieland hills, 230 + The bonnie rowan bush, 231 + Bonnie Bessie Lee, 233 + +ARCHIBALD STIRLING IRVING, 235 + The wild rose blooms, 236 + +ALEXANDER A. RITCHIE, 237 + The Wells o' Wearie, 239 + +ALEXANDER LAING, 241 + Ae happy hour, 243 + Lass gin ye wad lo'e me, 244 + Lass of Logie, 245 + My ain wife, 246 + The maid o' Montrose, 247 + Jean of Aberdeen, 249 + The hopeless exile, 250 + Glen-na-H'Albyn, 250 + +ALEXANDER CARLILE, 252 + Wha 's at the window, 253 + My brothers are the stately trees, 254 + The Vale of Killean, 255 + +JOHN NEVAY, 257 + The emigrant's love-letter, 259 + +THOMAS LYLE, 261 + Kelvin Grove, 264 + The trysting hour, 265 + Harvest song, 266 + +JAMES HOME, 267 + Mary Steel, 268 + Oh, hast thou forgotten? 269 + The maid of my heart, 270 + Song of the emigrant, 271 + This lassie o' mine, 272 + +JAMES TELFER, 273 + Oh, will ye walk the wood wi' me? 273 + I maun gae over the sea, 275 + + +METRICAL TRANSLATIONS FROM THE MODERN GAELIC MINSTRELSY. + + PAGE + +EVAN MACLACHLAN, 279 + A melody of love, 281 + The mavis of the clan, 282 + +JOHN BROWN, 286 + The sisters of Dunolly, 287 + +CHARLES STEWART, D.D., 289 + Luineag--a love carol, 290 + +ANGUS FLETCHER, 292 + The Clachan of Glendaruel, 292 + The lassie of the glen, 294 + + * * * * * + +GLOSSARY, 295 + + + + +THE + +MODERN SCOTTISH MINSTREL. + + + + +HENRY SCOTT RIDDELL. + + +Henry Scott Riddell, one of the most powerful and pleasing of the living +national song-writers, was born on the 23d September 1798, at Sorbie, in +the Vale of Ewes--a valley remarkable for its pastoral beauty, lying in +the south-east of Dumfriesshire. His father was a shepherd, well +acquainted with the duties of his profession, and a man of strong though +uneducated mind. "My father, while I was yet a child," writes Mr +Riddell, in a MS. autobiography, "left Sorbie; but when I had become +able to traverse both _burn_ and _brae_, hill and glen, I frequently +returned to, and spent many weeks together in, the vale of my nativity. +We had gone, under the same employer, to what pastoral phraseology terms +'_an out-bye herding_,' in the wilds of Eskdalemuir, called +Langshawburn. Here we continued for a number of years, and had, in this +remote, but most friendly and hospitable district, many visitors, +ranging from Sir Pulteney Malcolm down to Jock Gray, whom Sir Walter +Scott, through one of his strange mistakes, called Davy Gellatly.... +Among others who constituted a part of the company of these days, was +one whom I have good reason to remember--the Ettrick Shepherd. Nor can I +forbear observing that his seemed one of those hearts that do not become +older in proportion as the head grows gray. Cheerful as the splendour of +heaven, he carried the feelings, and, it may be said, the simplicity and +pursuits of youth, into his maturer years; and if few of the sons of men +naturally possessed such generous influence in promoting, so likewise +few enjoyed so much pleasure in participating in the expedients of +recreation, and the harmless glee of those who meet under the rural +roof--the shepherd's _bien_ and happy home. This was about the time when +Hogg began to write, or at least to publish: as I can remember from the +circumstance of my being able to repeat the most part of the pieces in +his first publication by hearing them read by others before I could read +them myself. It may, perhaps, be worth while to state that at these +meetings the sons of farmers, and even of lairds, did not disdain to +make their appearance, and mingle delightedly with the lads that wore +the crook and plaid. Where pride does not come to chill nor foppery to +deform homely and open-hearted kindness, yet where native modesty and +self-respect induce propriety of conduct, society possesses its own +attractions, and can subsist on its own resources. + +"At these happy meetings I treasured up a goodly store of old Border +ballads, as well as modern songs; for in those years of unencumbered and +careless existence, I could, on hearing a song, or even a ballad, sung +twice, have fixed it on my mind word for word. My father, with his +family, leaving Langshawburn, went to Capplefoot, on the Water of Milk, +and there for one year occupied a farm belonging to Thomas Beattie, Esq. +of Muckledale, and who, when my father was in Ewes, had been his +friend. My employment here was, along with a younger brother, to tend +the cows. In the winter season we entered the Corrie school, but had +only attended a short while when we both took fever, and our attendance +was not resumed. At Langshawburn, my father for several winters hired a +person into his house, who taught his family and that of a neighbouring +shepherd. In consequence of our distance from any place of regular +education, I had also been boarded at several schools--at Devington in +Eskdale, Roberton on Borthwick Water, and Newmill on the Teviot, at each +of which, however, I only remained a short time, making, I suppose, such +progress as do other boys who love the football better than the +spelling-book. + +"At the Whitsunday term my father relinquished his farm, and returned to +his former employment in the Forest of Ettrick, under Mr Scott of +Deloraine, to whom he had been a shepherd in his younger days. With this +family, indeed, and that of Mr Borthwick, then of Sorbie, and late of +Hopesrigg, all his years since he could wear the plaid were passed, with +the exception of the one just mentioned. It was at Deloraine that I +commenced the shepherd's life in good earnest. Through the friendly +partiality of our employer, I was made principal shepherd at an age +considerably younger than it is usual for most others to be intrusted +with so extensive a _hirsel_[1] as was committed to my care. I had by +this time, however, served what might be regarded as a regular +apprenticeship to the employment, which almost all sons of shepherds do, +whether they adhere to herding sheep in after-life or not. Seasons and +emergencies not seldom occur when the aid which the little boy can lend +often proves not much less availing than that of the grown-up man. +Education in this line consequently commences early. A knowledge of the +habits, together with the proper treatment of sheep, and therefore of +pastoral affairs in general, 'grows with the growth' of the individual, +and becomes, as it were, a portion of his nature. I had thus assisted my +father more or less all along; and when a little older, though still a +mere boy, I went for a year to a friend at Glencotha, in Holmswater, as +assistant shepherd or lamb-herd. Another year in the same capacity I was +with a shepherd in Wester Buccleuch. It was at Glencotha that I first +made a sustained attempt to compose in rhyme. When in Wester Buccleuch +my life was much more lonely, and became more tinged with thoughts and +feelings of a romantic cast. Owing to the nature of the stock kept on +the farm, it was my destiny day after day to be out among the mountains +during the whole summer season from early morn till the fall of even. +But the long summer days, whether clear or cloudy, never seemed long to +me--I never wearied among the wilds. My flocks being _hirsled_, as it is +expressed, required vigilance: but, if this was judiciously maintained, +the task was for the most part an easy and pleasant one. I know not if +it be worth while to mention that the hills and glens on which my charge +pastured at this period formed a portion of what in ancient times was +termed the Forest of Rankleburn. The names of places in the district, +though there were no other more intelligible traditions, might serve to +shew that it is a range of country to which both kings and nobles had +resorted. If from morning to night I was away far from the homes of +living men, I was not so in regard to those of the dead. Where a lesser +stream from the wild uplands comes down and meets the Rankleburn, a +church or chapel once stood, surrounded, like most other consecrated +places of the kind, by a burial-ground. There tradition says that five +dukes, some say kings, lie buried under a marble stone. I had heard that +Sir Walter, then Mr Scott, had, a number of years previously, made a +pilgrimage to this place, for the purpose of discovering the sepulchres +of the great and nearly forgotten dead, but without success. This, +however, tended, in my estimation, to confirm the truth of the +tradition; and having enough of time and opportunity, I made many a +toilsome effort of a similar nature, with the same result. With hills +around, wild and rarely trodden, and the ceaseless yet ever-varying +tinkling of its streams, together with the mysterious echoes which the +least stir seemed to awaken, the place was not only lonely, but also +creative of strange apprehensions, even in the hours of open day. It is +strange that the heart will fear the dead, which, perhaps, never feared +the living. Though I could muster and maintain courage to dig +perseveringly among the dust of the long-departed when the sun shone in +the sky, yet when the shadow of night was coming, or had come down upon +the earth, the scene was sacredly secure from all inroad on my part: and +to make the matter sufficiently intelligible, I may further mention +that, some years afterwards, when I took a fancy one evening to travel +eight miles to meet some friends in a shepherd's lone muirland dwelling, +I made the way somewhat longer for the sake of evading the impressive +loneliness of this locality. I had no belief that I should meet accusing +spirits of the dead; but I disliked to be troubled in waging war with +those _eery_ feelings which are the offspring of superstitious +associations. + +"While a lamb-herd at Buccleuch, I read when I could get a book which +was not already threadbare. I had a few chisels, and files, and other +tools, with which I took pleasure in constructing, of wood or bone, +pieces of mechanism; and I kept a diary in which I wrote many minute and +trivial matters, as well, no doubt as I then thought, many a sage +observation. In this, likewise, I wrote rude rhymes on local +occurrences. But I have anticipated a little. On returning home from +Glencotha, and two years before I went to Buccleuch, a younger brother +and I had still another round at herding cattle, which pastured in a +park near by my father's cottage. Our part was to protect a meadow which +formed a portion of it; and the task being easy to protect that for +which the cattle did not much care, nor yet could skaithe greatly though +they should trespass upon it, we were far too idle not to enter upon and +prosecute many a wayward and unprofitable ploy. Our predilections for +taming wild birds--the wilder by nature the better--seemed boundless; +and our family of hawks, and owls, and ravens was too large not to cost +us much toil, anxiety, and even sorrow. We fished in the Ettrick and the +lesser streams. These last suited our way of it best, since we generally +fished with staves and plough-spades--thus far, at least, honourably +giving the objects of our pursuit a fair chance of escape. When the hay +had been won, we went to Ettrick school, at which we continued +throughout the winter, travelling to and from it daily, though it lay at +the distance of five miles. This we, in good weather, accomplished +conveniently enough; but it proved occasionally a serious and toilsome +task through wind and rain, or keen frost and deep snow, when winter +days and the mountain blasts came on. + +"My father after being three years in Stanhopefoot, on the banks of the +Ettrick, went to Deloraineshiels, an _out-bye herding_, under the same +employer. In the winter season either I or some other of the family +assisted him; but so often as the weather was fine, we went to a school +instituted by a farmer in the neighbourhood for behoof of his own +family. When by and by I went to herd the _hirsel_ which my father +formerly tended, like most other regular shepherds I delighted in and +was proud of the employment. A considerable portion of another _hirsel_ +lying contiguous, and which my elder brother herded, was for the summer +season of the year added to mine, so that this already large was made +larger; but exempted as I was from attending to aught else but my flock, +I had pleasant days, for I loved the wilds among which it had become +alike my destiny and duty to walk at will, and 'view the sheep thrive +bonnie.' The hills of Ettrick are generally wild and green, and those of +them on which I daily wandered, musing much and writing often, were as +high, green, and wild, as any of them all.... It may be the partiality +arising from early habit which induces me to think that a man gets the +most comprehensive and distinct view of any subject which may occupy +thought when he is walking, provided fatigue has not overtaken him. +Mental confidence awake amid the stir seems increased by the exercise of +bodily power, and becomes free and fearless as the step rejoicing in the +ample scope afforded by the broad green earth and circumambient sky. On +the same grounds, I have sometimes marvelled if it might not be the +majesty of motion, as one may say, reigning around the seaman's soul, +that made his heart so frank in communication, and in action his arm so +vigorously energetic. At all events, there was in these days always +enough around one to keep interest more or less ardent awake-- + + "'Prompting the heart to pour the impassion'd strain + Afar 'mid solitude's eternal reign, + In numbers fearless all as unconfined, + And wild as wailings of the desert wind.' + +"According to my ability I studied while wandering among the mountains, +and at intervals, adopting my knee for my desk, wrote down the results +of my musing. Let not the shepherd ever forget his dog--his constant +companion and best friend, and without which all his efforts would +little avail! Mine knew well the places where in my rounds I was wont to +pause, and especially the majestic seat which I occupied so often on the +loftiest peak of Stanhopelaw. It had also an adopted spot of rest the +while, and, confident of my habits, would fold itself down upon it ere I +came forward; and would linger still, look wistful, and marvel why if at +any time I passed on without making my wonted delay. I did not follow +these practices only 'when summer days were fine.' The lines of an +epistle written subsequently will convey some idea of my habits:-- + + "'My early years were pass'd far on + The hills of Ettrick wild and lone; + Through summer sheen and winter shade + Tending the flocks that o'er them stray'd. + In bold enthusiastic glee + I sung rude strains of minstrelsy, + Which mingling with died o'er the dale, + Unheeded as the plover's wail. + Oft where the waving rushes shed + A shelter frail around my head, + Weening, though not through hopes of fame, + To fix on these more lasting claim, + I'd there secure in rustic scroll + The wayward fancies of the soul. + Even where yon lofty rocks arise, + Hoar as the clouds on wintry skies, + Wrapp'd in the plaid, and dern'd beneath + The colder cone of drifted wreath, + I noted them afar from ken, + Till ink would freeze within the pen; + So deep the spell which bound the heart + Unto the bard's undying art-- + So rapt the charm that still beguiled + The minstrel of the mountains wild.' + +"The ancients had a maxim--'Revenge is sweet.' In rural, as well as in +other life, there are things said and done which are more or less +ungenerous. These, if at any time they came my way, I repelled as best I +might. But I did not stop here; whether such matters, when occurring, +might concern myself as an individual or not, I took it upon me, as if I +had been a 'learned judge,' to write satires upon such persons as I knew +or conceived to have spoken or acted in aught contrary to good manners. +These squibs were written through the impulse of offended feeling, or +the stirrings of that injudicious spirit which sometimes prompts a man +to exercise a power merely because he possesses it. They were still, +after all, only as things of private experiment, and not intended ever +to go forth to the world--though it happened otherwise. I usually +carried a lot of these writings in my hat, and by and by, unlike most +other young authors, I got a publisher unsought for. This was the wind, +which, on a wild day, swept my hat from my head, and tattering its +contents asunder from their fold, sent them away over hill and dale like +a flock of wild fowl. I recovered some where they had halted in bieldy +places; others of them went further, and fell into other hands, and +particularly into those of a neighbour, who, a short while previously, +had played an unmanly part relating to a sheep and the march which ran +between us. He found his unworthy proceeding boldly discussed, in an +epistle which, I daresay, no other carrier would ever have conveyed to +him but the unblushing mountain blast. He complained to others, whom he +found more or less involved in his own predicament, and the thing went +disagreeably abroad. My master, through good taste and feeling, was +vexed, as I understood, that I should have done anything that gave +ground for accusation, though he did not mention the subject to myself; +but my father, some days after the mischief had commenced, came to me +upon the hill, and not in very good humour, disapproved of my imprudent +conduct. As for the consequences of this untoward event, it proved the +mean of revealing what I had hitherto concealed--procuring for me a sort +of local popularity little to be envied. I made the best improvement of +it, as I then thought, that lay in my power--by writing a satire upon +myself. + +"I continued shepherd at Deloraine two years, and then went in the same +capacity to the late Mr Knox of Todrigg; and if at the former place I +had been well and happy, here I was still more so. His son William, the +poet of 'The Lonely Hearth,' paid me much friendly attention. He +commended my verses, and augured my success as one of the song-writers +of my native land. In those days, I did not write with the most remote +view to publication. My aim did not extend beyond the gratification of +hearing my mountain strains sung by lad or lass, as time and place might +favour. And when, in the dewy gloaming of a summer eve, returning home +from the hill, and 'the kye were in the loan,' I did hear this much, I +thought, no doubt, that + + "'The swell and fall of these wild tones + Were worth the pomp of a thousand thrones.' + +"William Crozier, author of 'The Cottage Muse,' was also my neighbour +and friend at Todrigg, during the summer part of the year; and even at +this hour I feel delight in recalling to memory the happy harmony of +thought and feeling that blended with and enhanced the genial sunshine +of those departed days. I rejoice to dwell upon those remote and +rarely-trodden pastoral solitudes, among which my lot in the early years +of life was so continually cast; few may well conceive how distinctly I +can recall them. Memory, which seems often to constitute the mind +itself, more, perhaps, than any other faculty, can set them so brightly +before me, as if they were painted on a dark midnight sky with brushes +dipped in the essence of living light. To appreciate thoroughly the +grandeur of the mountain solitudes, it is necessary to have dwelt among +the scenes, and to have looked upon them at every season of the +ever-changing year. They are fresh with solemn beauty, when bathed in +the deep dews of a summer morning; or in autumn, if you have attained to +the border of the mystery which has overhung your path, and therefore to +a station high enough for the survey, all that meets the eye shall be as +a dream of poetry itself. The deep folds of white vapour fill up glen +and hollow, till the summit of the mountains, near and far away--far as +sight itself can penetrate--are only seen tinged with the early radiance +of the sun, the whole so combined as to appear a limitless plain of +variegated marble, peaceful as heaven, and solemnly serene as eternity. +What Winter writes with his frozen finger I need not state. When the +venerable old man, Gladstanes, perished among the stormy blasts of these +wilds, I was one of about threescore of men who for three days traversed +them in search of the dead. Then was the scenery of the mountains +impressive, much beyond what can well be spoken. The bridal that loses +the bride through some wayward freak of the fair may be sad enough; so +also the train, in its dark array, that conveys the familiar friend to +the chamber where the light of nature cannot come. But in this latter +case, the hearts that still beat, necessarily know that their part is +resignation, and suspense and anxiety mingle not in the mood of the +living, as it relates to the dead; but otherwise is it with those who +seem already constituting the funeral train of one who should have +been--yet who is not there to be buried. + + "'The feeling is nameless that makes us unglad, + And a strange, wild dismayment it brings; + Which yet hath no match in the solemn and sad + Desolation of men and of things. + + * * * * * + + "'The hill-foxes howl'd round the wanderer's way, + When his aim and his pathway were lost; + And effort has then oft too much of dismay + To pay well the toil it may cost. + If fate has its privilege, death has its power, + And is fearful where'er it may fall, + But worse it may seem 'mong the blasts of the moor, + Where all that approaches portends to devour, + Nor fixes till first it appal. + + "'No mercy obtains in the tempests that rave, + By the sky-frozen elements fed, + And there comes no hand that is willing to save, + And soothe, till the spirit be fled; + But the storms round the thrones of the wilderness break + O'er the frail in the solitude cast, + And howl in their strength and impatience to take + Their course to commix with the roar of the lake + Where it flings forth its foam on the blast. + + "'Lo! 'neath where the heath hangs so dark o'er yon peak, + Another of Adam lay lone, + Where the bield could not shelter the weary and weak, + By the strife of the tempest o'erthrown. + No raven had fed, and the hill-fox had fled, + If there he had yet come abroad, + And the stillness reign'd deep o'er his cold moorland bed, + Which came down in the power of the sleep of the dead + When the spirit return'd to its God.' + + * * * * * + +These are a few out of many more lines written on this subject, which at +the time was so deeply interesting to mind and heart." + +Mr Riddell here states that his poetical style of composition about this +period underwent a considerable change. He laid aside his wayward wit +for serious sentiment, an improvement which he ascribes to his +admiration of the elegant strains of his friend, young Knox. + +"My fortune in life," he proceeds, "had not placed me within the reach +of a library, and I had read almost none; and although I had attempted +to write, I merely followed the course which instinct pointed out. Need +I state further, that if in these days I employed my mind and pen among +the mountains as much as possible, my thoughts also often continued to +pursue the same practice, even when among others, by the 'farmer's +ingle.' I retired to rest when others retired, but if not outworn by +matters of extra toil, the ardour of thought, through love of the poet's +undying art, would, night after night for many hours, debar the inroads +of sleep. The number of schools which I have particularised as having +attended may occasion some surprise at the deficiency of my scholarship. +For this, various reasons are assignable, all of which, however, hinge +upon these two formidable obstacles--the inconveniency of local +position, and the thoughtless inattention of youth. In remote country +places, long and rough ways, conjoined not unfrequently with wild +weather, require that children, before they can enter school, be pretty +well grown up; consequently, they quit it the sooner. They are often +useful at home in the summer season, or circumstances may destine them +to hire away. Among these inconveniences, one serious drawback is, that +the little education they do get is rarely obtained continuously, and +regular progress is interrupted. Much of what has been gained is lost +during the intervals of non-attendance, and every new return to the book +is little else than a new beginning. So was it with me. At the time when +my father hired a teacher into his house, it was for what is termed the +winter quarter, and I was then somewhat too young to be tied down to the +regular routine of school discipline; and if older when boarded away, +the other obstruction to salutary progress began to operate grievously +against me. I acquired bit by bit the common education--reading, +writing, and arithmetic. So far as I remember, grammar was not much +taught at any of these schools, and the spelling of words was very +nearly as little attended to as the meaning which they are appointed to +convey was explained or sought after. + +"But the non-understanding of words is less to be marvelled at than that +a man should not understand himself. At this hour I cannot conceive how +I should have been so recklessly careless about learning and books when +at school, and yet so soon after leaving it seriously inclined towards +them. I see little else for it than to suppose that boys who are bred +where they have no companions are prone to make the most of +companionship when once attained to. And then, in regard to books, as of +these I rarely got more than what might serve as a whet to the appetite, +I might have the desire of those whose longings after what they would +obtain are increased by the difficulties which interpose between them +and the possession. One book which in school I sometimes got a glance +of, I would have given anything to possess: this was a small volume +entitled, 'The Three Hundred Animals.' + +"I cannot forbear mentioning that, when at Deloraine, I was greatly +advantaged by an old woman, called Mary Hogg, whose cottage stood on an +isolated corner of the lands on which my flock pastured. Her husband had +been a shepherd, who, many years previous to this period, perished in a +snow-storm. In her youth she had opportunities of reading history, and +other literature, and she did not only remember well what she had read, +but could give a distinct and interesting account of it. In going my +wonted rounds, few days there were on which I did not call and listen to +her intelligent conversation. She was a singularly good woman--a sincere +Christian; and the books which she lent me were generally of a religious +kind, such as the 'Pilgrim's Progress,' and the 'Holy War;' but here I +also discovered a romance, the first which I had ever seen. It was +printed in the Gothic letter, and entitled 'Prissimus, the Renowned +Prince of Bohemia.' Particular scenes and characters in 'Ivanhoe' +reminded me strikingly of those which I had formerly met with in this +old book of black print. And I must mention that few books interested me +more than 'Bailey's Dictionary.' Day after day I bore it to the +mountains, and I have an impression that it was a more comprehensive +edition of the work than I have ever since been able to meet with. + +"At Todrigg my reading was extended; and having begun more correctly to +appreciate what I did read, the intention which I had sometimes +entertained gathered strength: this was to make an effort to obtain a +regular education. The consideration of the inadequacy of my means had +hitherto bridled my ambition; but having herded as a regular shepherd +nearly three years, during which I had no occasion to spend much of my +income, my prospects behoved to be a little more favourable. It was in +this year that the severest trial which had yet crossed my path had to +be sustained. The death of my father overthrew my happier mood; at the +same time, instead of subduing my secret aim, the event rather +strengthened my determination. My portion of my father's worldly effects +added something considerable to my own gainings; and, resigning my +situation, I bade farewell to the crook and plaid. I went to Biggar, in +Clydesdale, where I knew the schoolmaster was an approved classical +scholar. Besides, my Glencotha reminiscences tended to render me partial +to this part of the world, and in the village I had friends with whom I +could suitably reside. The better to insure attention to what I was +undertaking, I judged it best to attend school during the usual hours. A +learner was already there as old in years, and nearly as stout in form, +as myself, so that I escaped from the wonderment which usually attaches +to singularity much more comfortably than I anticipated. There were also +two others in the school, who had formerly gone a considerable way in +the path of classic lore, and had turned aside, but who, now repenting +of their apostasy, returned to their former faith. These were likewise +well grown up, and I may state that they are now both eminent as +scholars and public men. The individual first mentioned and I sat in the +master's desk, which he rarely, if ever, occupied himself; and although +we were diligent upon the whole, yet occasionally our industry and +conduct as learners were far from deserving approbation. To me the +confinement was frequently irksome and oppressive, especially when the +days were bright with the beauty of sunshine. There were ways, woods, +and even wilds, not far apart from the village, which seemed eternally +wooing the step to retirement, and the mind to solitary contemplation. +Some verses written in this school have been preserved, which will +convey an idea of the cast of feeling which produced them:-- + + "Discontented and uncheery, + Of this noise and learning weary, + Half my mind, to madness driven, + Woos the lore by nature given; + 'Mong fair fields and flowing fountains, + Lonely glens and lofty mountains, + Charm'd with nature's wildest grandeur, + Lately wont was I to wander, + Wheresoever fancy led me, + Came no barrier to impede me; + Still from early morn till even, + In the light of earth and heaven, + Musing on whatever graces, + Livelier scenes or lonelier places, + Till a nameless pleasure found me + Living, like a dream, around me,-- + How, then, may I be contented, + Thus confined and thus tormented! + + "'Still, oh! still 'twere lovelier rather + To be roaming through the heather; + And where flow'd the stream so glassy, + 'Mong its flowers and margins mossy, + Where the flocks at noon their path on + Came to feed by birk and hawthorn; + Or upon the mountain lofty, + Seated where the wind blew softly, + With my faithful friend beside me, + And my plaid from sun to hide me, + And the volume oped before me, + I would trace the minstrel's story, + Or mine own wild harp awaken, + 'Mid the deep green glens of braken, + Free and fearlessly revealing + All the soul of native feeling. + + "''Stead of that eternal humming, + To the ear for ever coming-- + Humming of these thoughtless beings, + In their restless pranks and pleaings; + And the sore-provoked preceptor + Roaring, "Silence!"--O'er each quarter + Silence comes, as o'er the valley, + Where all rioted so gaily, + When the sudden bursting thunder + Overpowers with awe and wonder-- + Till again begins the fuss-- + 'Master, Jock's aye nippin' us!' + I could hear the fountains flowing, + Where the light hill-breeze was blowing, + And the wild-wing'd plover wailing, + Round the brow of heaven sailing; + Bleating flocks and skylarks singing, + Echo still to echo ringing-- + Sounds still, still so wont to waken + That no note of them is taken, + Yet which seem to lend assistance + To the blessing of existence. + + "'Who shall trow thee wise or witty, + Lore of "the Eternal City," + Or derive delight and pleasure + From the blood-stain'd deeds of Caesar, + Thus bewildering his senses + 'Mong these cases, moods, and tenses? + Still the wrong-placed words arranging, + Ever in their finals changing; + Out and in with hic and hockings, + Like a loom for working stockings. + Latin lords and Grecian heroes-- + Oh, ye gods, in mercy spare us! + How may mortals be contented, + Thus confined and thus tormented!' + +"My teacher, the late Richard Scott, was an accurate classical scholar, +which perhaps accounts for his being, unlike some others of his +profession, free from pedantry. He was kind-hearted and somewhat +disposed to indolence, loving more to converse with one of my years than +to instruct him in languages. He had seen a good deal of the world and +its ways, and I learned much from him besides Greek and Latin. We were +great friends and companions, and rarely separate when both of us were +unengaged otherwise. + +"I bore aloof from making many acquaintances; yet, ere long, I became +pretty extensively acquainted with the people of the place. It went +abroad that I was a bard from the mountains, and the rumour affixed to +me a popularity which I did not enjoy. A party of young men in the +village had prepared themselves to act 'the Douglas Tragedy,' and wished +a song, which was to be sung between this and the farce. The air was of +their own fixing, and which, in itself, was wild and beautiful; but, +unfortunately, like many others of our national airs possessed of these +qualities, it was of a measure such as rendered it difficult to write +words for. Since precluded from introducing poetic sentiment, I +substituted a dramatic plot, and being well sung by alternate voices, +the song was well received, and so my fame was enhanced. + +"It was about this time that I wrote 'The Crook and Plaid'--not by +request, but with the intention of supplanting a song, I think of +English origin, called 'The Plough-boy,' and of a somewhat questionable +character. 'The Crook and Plaid' accomplished the end intended, and soon +became popular throughout the land. So soon as I got a glimpse of the +Roman language, I began to make satisfactory progress in its +acquisition. But I daily wrote more or less in my old way--now also +embracing in my attempts prose as well as verse. I wrote a Border +Romance. This was more strongly than correctly expressed. Hogg, who took +the trouble of reading it, gave me his opinion, by saying that there +were more rawness and more genius in it than in any work he had seen. +It, sometime afterwards, had also the honour of being read--for I never +offered it for publication--by one who felt much interest in the +characters and plot--Professor Wilson's lady--who, alas! went too early +to where he himself also now is; lost, though not to fond recollection, +yet to love and life below. I contributed some papers to the _Clydesdale +Magazine_, and I sent a sort of poetic tale to the editor, telling him +to do with it whatever he might think proper. He published it +anonymously, and it was sold about Clydesdale. + +"My intention had been to qualify myself for the University, and, +perhaps in regard to Latin and Greek acquirements, I might have +proceeded thither earlier than I ventured to do; but having now made +myself master of my more immediate tasks, I took more liberty. A +gentleman, who, on coming home after having made his fortune abroad, +took up his residence at Biggar. I had, in these days, an aversion to +coming into contact with rich strangers, and although he lived with a +family which I was accustomed to visit, I bore aloof from being +introduced to him. But he came to me one day on the hill of +Bizzie-berry, and frankly told me that he wished to be acquainted with +me, and therefore had taken the liberty of introducing himself. I found +excuse for not dining with him on that day, but not so the next, nor for +many days afterwards. He was intellectual--and his intelligence was only +surpassed by his generosity. He gave me to understand that his horse was +as much at my service as his own; and one learned, by and by, to keep +all wishes and wants as much out of view as possible, in case that they +should be attended to when you yourself had forgotten them. When he +began to rally me about my limited knowledge of the world, I knew that +some excursion was in contemplation. We, on one occasion, rode down the +Clyde, finding out, so far as we might, all things, both natural and +artificial, worthy of being seen; and when at Greenock, he was anxious +that we should have gone into the Highlands, but I resisted; for +although not so much as a shade of the expenses was allowed to fall on +me, I felt only the more ashamed of the extent of them. + +"I had become acquainted with a number of people whom I delighted to +visit occasionally; one family in particular, who lived amid the beauty +of 'the wild glen sae green.' The song now widely known by this name I +wrote for a member of this delightful family, who at that time herded +one of the _hirsels_ of his father's flocks on 'the heathy hill.' With +the greater number of persons in the district possessing literary tastes +I became more or less intimate. The schoolmasters I found friendly and +obliging; one of these, in particular (now holding a higher office in +the same locality), I often visited. His high poetic taste convinced me +more and more of the value of mental culture, and tended to subdue me +from those more rugged modes of expression in which I took a pride in +conveying my conceptions. With this interesting friend I sometimes took +excursions into rural regions more or less remote, and once we journeyed +to the south, when I had the pleasure of introducing him to the Ettrick +Shepherd. But of my acquaintances, I valued few more than my modest and +poetic friend, the late James Brown of Symington.[2] Though humble in +station, he was high in virtuous worth. His mind, imbued with and +regulated by sound religious and moral principle, was as ingenious and +powerful as his heart was 'leal, warm, and kind.' + +"Entering the University of Edinburgh, I took for the first session the +Greek and Latin classes. Attending them regularly, I performed the +incumbent exercises much after the manner that others did--only, as I +have always understood it to be a rare thing with the late Mr Dunbar, +the Greek Professor, to give much praise to anything in the shape of +poetry, I may mention that marked merit was ascribed to me in his class +for a poetical translation of one of the odes of Anacreon. I had laid +the translation on his desk, in an anonymous state, one day before the +assembling of the class. He read it and praised it, expressing at the +same time his anxiety to know who was the translator; but the translator +having intended not to acknowledge it, kept quiet. He returned to it, +and praising it anew, expressed still more earnestly his desire to know +the author; and so I made myself known, as all _great unknowns_ I think, +with the exception of Junius, are sooner or later destined to do. + +"Of the philosophical classes, those that I liked best were the Logic +and Moral Philosophy--particularly the latter. I have often thought that +it is desirable, could it be possibly found practicable, to have all the +teachers of the higher departments of education not merely of high +scholastic acquirements, but of acknowledged genius. Youth reveres +genius, and delights to be influenced by it; heart and spirit are kept +awake and refreshed by it, and everything connected with its +forthgivings is rendered doubly memorable. It fixes, in a certain sense, +the limit of expectation, and the prevailing sentiment is--we are under +the tuition of the highest among those on earth who teach; if we do not +profit here, we may not hope to do so elsewhere. These remarks I make +with a particular reference to the late Professor Wilson, under the +influence of whose genius and generous warmth of heart many have felt as +I was wont to feel. If it brings hope and gladness to love and esteem +the living, it also yields a satisfaction, though mingled with regret, +to venerate the dead; and now that he is no more, I cannot forbear +recording how he treated a man from the mountains who possessed no +previous claim upon his attention. I had no introduction to him, but he +said that he had heard of me, and would accept of no fee for his class +when I joined it; at least he would not do so, he said, till I should be +able to inform him whether or not I had been pleased with his lectures. +But it proved all the same in this respect at the close as it was at the +commencement of the session. He invited me frequently to his house as a +friend, when other friends were to meet him there, besides requesting me +to come and see him and his family whenever I could make it convenient. +He said that his servant John was very perverse, and would be sure to +drive me by like all others, if he possibly could; so he gave me a +watchword, which he thought John, perverse as he was, would not venture +to resist. I thus became possessed of a privilege of which I did not +fail to avail myself frequently--a privilege which might well have been +gratifying to such as were much less enthusiastic with regard to +literary men and things than I was. To share in the conversation of +those possessed of high literary taste and talent, and, above all, of +poetic genius, is the highest enjoyment afforded by society; and if it +be thus gratifying, it is almost unnecessary to add that it is also +advantageous in no ordinary degree, if, indeed, properly appreciated +and improved. Any one who ever met the late Professor in the midst of +his own happy family, constituted as it was when I had this pleasure, +was not likely soon to forget a scene wherein so much genius, kindness, +loveliness, and worth were blended. If the world does not think with a +deep and undying regret of what once adorned it, and it has now lost, +through the intervention of those shadows which no morning but the +eternal one can remove, I am one, at least, who in this respect cannot +follow its example. + +"Edinburgh, with its 'palaces and towers,' and its many crowded ways, +was at first strangely new to me, being as different, in almost all +respects, to what I had been accustomed as it might seem possible for +contrariety to make earthly things. Though I had friends in it, and +therefore was not solitary, yet its tendency, like that of the noisy and +restless sea, was to render me melancholy. Some features which the +congregated condition of mankind exhibited penetrated my heart with +something like actual dismay. I had seen nothing of the sort, nor yet +even so much as a semblance of it, and therefore I had no idea that +there existed such a miserable shred of degradation, for example, as a +cinder-woman--desolate and dirty as her employment--bowed down--a shadow +among shadows--busily prone, beneath the sheety night sky, to find out +and fasten upon the crumb, whose pilgrimage certainly had not improved +it since falling from the rich man's table. Compassion, though not +naturally so, becomes painful when entertained towards those whom we +believe labouring under suffering which we fain would but cannot +alleviate. + +"I had enough of curiosity for wishing to see all those things which +others spoke of, and characterised as worthy of being seen; but I +contented myself meanwhile with a survey of the city's external +attributes. In a week or two, however, my friend A. F. Harrower, +formerly mentioned, having come into town from Clydesdale, took pleasure +in finding out whatever could interest or gratify me, and of conveying +me thither. With very few exceptions, every forenoon he called at my +lodgings, leaving a note requesting me to meet him at some specified +time and place. I sometimes sent apologies, and at other times went +personally to apologise; but neither of these methods answered well. +Through his persevering attentions towards me, I met with much agreeable +society, and saw much above as well as somewhat below the earth, which I +might never otherwise have seen. In illustration of the latter fact, I +may state that, having gone to London, he returned with two Englishmen, +when he invited me to assist them in exploring the battle-field of +Pinkie. We terminated our excursion by descending one of Sir John Hope's +coal-pits. These humorous and frank English associates amused themselves +by bantering my friend and myself about the chastisement which Scotland +received from the sister kingdom at Pinkie. As did the young rustic +countryman--or, at least, was admonished to do--so did I. When going +away to reside in England, he asked his father if he had any advice to +give him. 'Nane, Jock, nane but this,' he said; 'dinna forget to avenge +the battle o' Pinkie on them.' Ere I slept I wrote, in support of our +native land, the song--'Ours is the land of gallant hearts;' and thus, +in my own way, 'avenged the battle of Pinkie.' + +"One of two other friends with whom I delighted to associate was R. B., +an early school companion, who, having left the mountains earlier than I +did, had now been a number of years in Edinburgh. Of excellent head and +generous heart, he loved the wild, green, and deep solitudes of nature. +The other--G. M'D.--was of powerful and bold intellect, and remarkable +for a retentive memory. Each of us, partial to those regions where +nature strives to maintain her own undisturbed dominion, on all holidays +hied away from the city, to the woodland and mountainous haunts, or the +loneliness of the least frequented shores of the sea. The spirit of our +philosophy varied much--sometimes profound and solemn, and sometimes +humorous; but still we philosophised, wandering on. They were members of +a literary society which met once a week, and which I joined. My +propensity to study character and note its varieties was here afforded a +field opening close upon me; but I was also much profited by performing +my part in carrying forward the business of the institution. During all +the sessions that I attended the University, but especially as these +advanced toward their termination, I entered into society beyond that +which might be regarded as professionally literary. I had an idea then, +as I still have, that, in every process of improvement, care should be +taken that one department of our nature is not cultivated to the neglect +of another. There are two departments--the intellectual and the +moral;--the one implying all that is rational, the other comprising +whatever pertains to feeling and passion, or, more simply, there are the +head and the heart; and if the intellect is to be cultivated, the heart +is not to be allowed to run into wild waste, nor to sink into systematic +apathy. Lore-lighted pages and unremitting abstract studies will make a +man learned; but knowledge is not wisdom; and to know much is not so +desirable, because it is not so beneficial, either to ourselves or +others, as to understand, through the more generous and active +sympathies of our nature, how the information which we possess may be +best applied to useful purposes. This we shall not well know, if the +head be allowed or encouraged to leave the heart behind. If we forget +society it will forget us, and, through this estrangement, a sympathetic +knowledge of human nature may be lost. Thus, in the haunts of seclusion +and solitary thought our acquirements may only prove availing to +ourselves as matters of self-gratification. The benevolent affections, +which ought not merely to be allowed, but taught to expand, may thus not +only be permitted but encouraged to contract, and the exercise of that +studious ingenuity, which perhaps leads the world to admire the +achievements of learning, thus deceive us into a state of existence +little better than cold selfishness itself. Sir Isaac Newton, who soared +so high and travelled so far on the wing of abstract thought, gathering +light from the stars that he might convey it in intelligible shape to +the world, seems to have thought, high as the employment was, that it +was not good, either for the heart or mind of man, to be always away +from that intercourse with humanity and its affairs which is calculated +to awaken and sustain the sympathies of life; and therefore turned to +the contemplation of Him who was _meek and lowly_. And no countenance +has been afforded to monks and hermits who retired from the world, +though it even was to spend their lives in meditation and prayer; for +Heaven had warned man, at an early date, not to withhold the +compassionate feelings of the heart, and the helping-hand, from any in +whom he recognised the attributes of a common nature, saying to him, +'See that thou hide not thyself from thine own flesh.' + +"My last year's attendance at the College Philosophical Classes was at +St Andrews. I had a craving to acquaint myself with a city noted in +story, and I could not, under the canopy of my native sky, have planted +the step among scenes more closely interwoven with past national +transactions, or fraught with more interesting associations. In +attending the Natural Philosophy Class, not being proficient in +mathematic lore, I derived less advantage than had otherwise been the +case with me. Yet I did not sit wholly in the shade, notwithstanding +that the light which shone upon me did not come from that which Campbell +says yielded 'the lyre of Heaven another string.' A man almost always +finds some excuse for deficiency; and I have one involving a philosophy +which I think few will be disposed to do otherwise than acquiesce +in--namely, that it is a happy arrangement in the creation and history +of man, that all minds are not so constituted as to have the same +predilections, or to follow the same bent. Considering that I had +started at a rather late hour of life to travel in the paths of +learning, and having so many things, interesting and important, to +attend to by the way, it was perhaps less remarkable that I should be +one who 'neither kenn'd nor cared' much about lines that had no breadth, +and points which were without either breadth or length, than that I +should have felt gratified to find on my arrival some of my simple +strains sung in a city famed for its scientific acquirements. + +"The ruins which intermingle with the scenery and happy homes of St +Andrews, like gray hairs among those of another hue, rendered venerable +the general aspect of the place. But I did not feel only the city +interesting, but the whole of Fifeshire. By excursions made on the +monthly holidays then as well as subsequently, when in after-years I +returned to visit friends in the royal realm, I acquainted myself with a +goodly number of those haunts and scenes which history and tradition +have rendered attractive. A land, however, or any department of it, +whatever may be its other advantages, is most to be valued in respect of +the intelligence or worth of its inhabitants. And if so, then I am proud +to aver that in Fife I came to possess many intelligent and excellent +friends. Many of these have gone to another land--'the land o' the +leal,' leaving the places which now know them no more, the more +regretfully endeared to recollection. Of those friends who survive, I +cannot forbear an especial mention of one, who is now a professor in the +college in which he was then only a student. A man cannot be truly great +unless he also be good, and I do not alone value him on the colder and +statelier eminence of high intellectual powers and scientific +acquirements, but also, if not much rather, for his generous worth and +his benevolent feeling. My friend is one in whom these qualities are +combined, and as I sincerely think, I will likewise freely say, that +those will assuredly find a time, sooner or later, greatly to rejoice, +whose fate has been so favourable as to place them under the range and +influence of his tuition. + +"I studied at St Andrews College under the late Dr Jackson, who was an +eminent philosopher and friendly man; also under Mr Duncan, of the +Mathematical Chair, whom I regarded as a personification of unworldly +simplicity, clothed in high and pure thought; and I regularly attended, +though not enrolled as a regular student, the Moral Philosophy Class of +Dr Chalmers. Returning to Edinburgh and its university, I became +acquainted, through my friend and countryman, Robert Hogg, with R. A. +Smith, who was desirous that I should assist him with the works in which +he was engaged, particularly 'The Irish Minstrel,' and 'Select +Melodies.' Smith was a man of modest worth and superior intelligence; +peculiarly delicate in his taste and feeling in everything pertaining to +lyric poetry as well as music; his criticisms were strict, and, as some +thought, unnecessarily minute. Diffident and retiring, he was not got +acquainted with at once, but when he gave his confidence, he was found a +pleasant companion and warm-hearted friend. If, as he had sought my +acquaintance, I might have expected more frankness on our meeting, I +soon became convinced that his shyer cast arose alone from excess of +modesty, combined with a remarkable sensitiveness of feeling. Proudly +honourable, he seemed more susceptible of the influences of all sorts +that affect life than any man I ever knew; and, indeed, a little +acquaintance with him was only required to shew that his harp was strung +too delicately for standing long the tear and wear of this world. He had +done much for Scottish melody, both by fixing the old airs in as pure a +state as possible, and by adding to the vast number of these national +treasures some exquisite airs of his own. For a number of the airs in +the works just mentioned, but particularly in the 'Select Melodies,' he +had experienced difficulty in procuring suitable words, owing chiefly to +the crampness of the measures--a serious drawback which appears to +pervade, more or less, the sweetest melodies of other nations as well as +those of our own. A number of these I supplied as well as I could. + +"About this time the native taste for Scottish song in city society +seemed nearly, if not altogether lost, and a kind of songs, such as +'I've been roaming,' 'I'd be a butterfly,' 'Buy a broom,' 'Cherry-ripe,' +&c. (in which if the head contrived to find a meaning, it was still such +as the heart could understand nothing about), seemed alone to be +popular, and to prevail. R. A. Smith disliked this state of things, but, +perhaps, few more so than Mr P. M'Leod, who gave a most splendid +evidence of his taste in his 'Original National Melodies.' Both Smith +and M'Leod were very particular about the quality of the poetry which +they honoured with their music. M'Leod was especially careful in this +respect. He loved the lay of lofty and undaunted feeling as well as of +love and friendship; for his genius is of a manly tone, and has a bold +and liberal flow. And popular as some of the effusions in his work have +become, such as 'Oh! why left I my hame?' and 'Scotland yet!' many +others of them, I am convinced, will yet be popular likewise. When the +intelligence of due appreciation draws towards them, it will take them +up and delight to fling them upon the breezes that blow over the hills +and glens, and among the haunts and homes of the isle of unconquerable +men. To Mr M'Leod's 'National Melodies' I contributed a number of songs. +In the composition of these I found it desirable to lay aside, in some +considerable degree, my pastoral phraseology, for, as conveyed in such +productions, I observed that city society cared little about rural +scenery and sentiment. It was different with my kind and gifted friend +Professor Wilson. He was wont to say that he would not have given the +education, as he was pleased to term it, which I had received afar in +the green bosom of mountain solitude, and among the haunts and homes of +the shepherd--meaning the thing as applicable to poetry--for all that he +had received at colleges. Wilson had introduced my song, 'When the glen +all is still,' into the _Noctes_, and La Sapio composed music for it; +and not only was it sung in Drury-lane, but published in a sheet as the +production of a real shepherd; yet it did not become popular in city +life. In the country it had been popular previous to this, where it is +so still, and where no effort whatever had been made to introduce it. + +"About the time when I had concluded the whole of my college course, the +'Songs of the Ark,'[3] were published by Blackwood. These, as published, +are not what they were at first, and were intended only to be short +songs of a sacred nature, unconnected by intervening narrative, for +which R. A. Smith wished to compose music. Unfortunately, his other +manifold engagements never permitted him to carry his intention into +practice; and seeing no likelihood of any decrease of these engagements, +I gave scope to my thoughts on the subject, and the work became what it +now is. But I ought to mention that this was not my first poetic +publication in palpable shape. Some years previously I published +stanzas, or a monody, on the death of Lord Byron. I had all along +thought much, and with something like mysterious awe, upon the eccentric +temperament, character and history of that great poet, and the tidings +which told the event of his demise impressed me deeply. Being in the +country, and remote from those who could exchange thoughts with me on +the occurrence, I resorted to writing. That which I advanced was much +mixed up with the result, if I may not say of former experience, yet of +former reflection, for I had entertained many conjectures concerning +what this powerful personage would or might yet do; and, indeed, his +wilful waywardness, together with the misery which he represented as +continually haunting him, constituted an impressive advertisement to the +world, and served to keep human attention awake towards him. + +"Those who write because it brings a relief to feeling, will write +rapidly: likely, too, they will write with energy, because not only the +head but also the heart is engaged. 'The Monody,' which is of a goodly +length, I finished in a few days; and though I felt a desire of having +it published, yet it lay over for a time, till, being in Edinburgh, a +friend shewed it to Dr Robert Anderson. I had been well satisfied with +the result, had the production accomplished nothing more than procured +me, as it did, the friendly acquaintance of this excellent, venerable +man. He knew more of the minutiae of literature, together with the +character and habits of the literary men of his day, and of other days +also, than any I had then or have since met with; and he seemed to take +great pleasure in communicating his knowledge to others. He thought well +of 'The Monody,' and warmly advised me to publish it. It was published +accordingly by Mr John Anderson, bookseller, North Bridge, Edinburgh. + +"Some of the reviewers, in regard to the 'Songs of the Ark,' seemed to +think that a sufficiency of eastern scenery did not obtain in them. +Doubtless this was correct; but I remark, that if my object in the +undertaking had been to delineate scenery, I would not have turned my +attention to the East, the scenes of which I never saw. Human nature +being radically the same everywhere, a man, through the sympathies of +that nature, can know to a certain extent what are likely to be the +thoughts and feelings of his fellow-kind in any particular +circumstances--therefore he has data upon which he can venture to give a +representation of them; but it is very different from this in regard to +topographical phenomena. It was therefore not the natural, but, if I may +so call it, the moral scenery in which I was interested, more +particularly since the whole scene of nature here below was, shortly +after the period at which the poem commences, to become a blank of +desolate uniformity, as overwhelmed beneath a waste of waters. + +"At the risk of incurring the charge of vanity, I would venture to +adduce one or two of the favourable opinions entertained in regard to +some of the miscellaneous pieces which went to make up the volume of the +'Songs of the Ark.' Of the piece entitled 'Apathy,' Allan Cunningham +thus wrote:--'Although sufficiently distressful, it is a very bold and +original poem, such as few men, except Byron, would have conceived or +could have written.' Motherwell said of the 'Sea-gray Man,' that it was +'the best of all modern ballads.' This ballad, shortly after I had +composed it, I repeated to the Ettrick Shepherd walking on the banks of +the Yarrow, and he was fully more pleased with it than with anything of +mine I had made him acquainted with. He was wont to call me his +'assistant and successor;' and although this was done humorously, it yet +seemed to furnish him with a privilege on which he proceeded to approve +or disapprove very frankly, that in either case I might profit by his +remarks. He was pleased especially with the half mysterious way in which +I contrived to get quit of the poor old man at last. This, indeed, was a +contrivance; but the idea of the rest of the ballad was taken from an +old man, who had once been a sailor, and who was wont to come to my +mother's, in the rounds which he took in pursuit of charity at regular +periods of the year, so that we called him her pensioner. + +"The summer vacations of college years I passed in the country, +sometimes residing with my mother, and eldest brother, at a small farm +which he had taken at the foot of the Lammermuir hills, in East-Lothian, +called Brookside, and sometimes, when I wished a variety, with another +brother, at Dryden, in Selkirkshire. At both places I had enough of +time, not only for study, but also for what I may call amusement. The +latter consisted in various literary projects which I entered upon, but +particularly those of a poetic kind, and the writing of letters to +friends with whom I regularly, and I may say also copiously +corresponded; for in these we did not merely express immediate thoughts +and feelings of a more personal nature, but remarked with vigorous +frankness upon many standard affairs of this scene of things. To this +general rule of the manner of my life at this time, however, I must +mention an exception. A college companion and I, thinking to advantage +ourselves, and perhaps others, took a school at Fisherrow. The +speculation in the end, as to money matters, served us nothing. It was +easier to get scholars than to get much if anything for teaching them. +Yet neither was the former, in some respects, so easy as might have been +expected. The offspring of man, in that locality, may be regarded as in +some measure amphibious. Boys and girls equally, if not already in the +sea, were, like young turtles, sure to be pointing towards it with an +instinct too intense to err. I never met, indeed, with a race of beings +believed, or even suspected to be rational, that, provided immediate +impulses and inclinations could be gratified, cared so thoroughly little +for consequences. On warm summer days, when we caused the school door to +stand open, it is not easy to say how much of intense interest this +simple circumstance drew towards it. The squint of the unsettled eye was +on the door, out at which the heart and all its inheritance was off and +away long previously, and the more than ordinarily propitious moment for +the limbs following was only as yet not arrived. When that moment came, +off went one, followed by another; and down the narrow and dark lanes +of sooty houses. As well might the steps have proposed to pursue meteors +playing at hide-and-seek among the clouds of a midnight sky that the +tempest was troubling. Nevertheless, Colin Bell, who by virtue of his +ceaseless stir in the exercise of his heathen-god-like abilities, had +constituted himself captain of the detective band, would be up and at +hand immediately, and would say 'Master--sir, Young an' me will bring +them, sir, if ye'll let's.' It was just as good to 'let' as to hinder, +for, for others to be out thus, and he in, seemed to be an advantage +gained over Colin to which he could never be rightly reconciled. He was +bold and frank, and full of expedients in cases of emergency; especially +he appeared capable of rendering more reasons for an error in his +conduct than one could well have imagined could have been rendered for +anything done in life below. Another drawback in the case was, that one +could never be very seriously angry with him. If more real than +pretended at any time, his broad bright eye and bluff face, +magnificently lifted up, like the sun on frost-work, melted down +displeasure and threatened to betray all the policy depending on it; for +in the main never a bit of ill heart had Colin, though doubtlessly he +had in him, deeply established, a trim of rebellion against education +that seemed ever on the alert, and which repulsed even its portended +approach with a vigour resembling the electric energy of the torpedo. + +"As we did not much like this place, we did not remain long in it. I had +meanwhile, however, resources which brought relief. Those friends whose +society I most enjoyed occasionally paid us a visit from Edinburgh; and +in leisure hours I haunted the banks of the Esk, which, with wood, and +especially with wild-roses, are very beautiful around the church of +Inveresk. This beauty was heightened by contrast--for I have ever hated +the scenery of, and the effect produced by, sunny days and dirty +streets. Nor do the scenes where mankind congregate to create bustle, +'dirdum and deray,' often fail of making me more or less melancholy. In +the week of the Musselburgh Races, I only went out one day to toss about +for a few hours in the complicated and unmeaning crowd. I insert the +protest which I entered against it on my return:-- + + "'What boots this turmoil + Of uproar and folly-- + That renders the smile + Of creation unholy? + If that which we love + Is life's best assistant, + The thought still must rove + To the dear and the distant. + Would, then, that I were + 'Mid nature's wild grandeur-- + From this folly afar, + As I wont was to wander; + Where the pale cloudlets fly, + By the soft breezes driven, + And the mountains on high + Kiss the azure of heaven. + Where down the deep glen + The rivulet is rolling, + And few, few of men + Through the solitudes strolling. + Oh! bliss I could reap, + When day was returning; + O'er the wild-flowers asleep, + 'Mong the dews of the morning; + And there were it joy, + When the shades of the gloaming, + With the night's lullaby, + O'er the world were coming-- + To roam through the brake, + In the paths long forsaken; + My hill-harp retake, + And its warblings awaken. + The heart is in pain, + And the mind is in sadness-- + And when comes, oh! when, + The return of its gladness? + The forest shall fade + At the winter's returning, + And the voice of the shade + Shall be sorrow and mourning. + Man's vigour shall fail + As his locks shall grow hoary, + And where is the tale + Of his youth and his glory? + My life is a dream-- + My fate darkly furl'd; + I a hermit would seem + 'Mid the crowd of the world. + Oh! let me be free + Of these scenes that encumber, + And enjoy what may be + Of my days yet to number!' + +"I have dwelt at the greater length on these matters, trivial though +they be, in consequence of my non-intention of tracing minutely the +steps and stages of my probationary career. These, with me, I suppose, +were much like what they are and have been with others. My acquaintance +was a little extended with those that inhabit the land, and in some +cases a closer intimacy than mere acquaintance took place, and more +lasting friendships were formed. + +"My brother having taken a farm near Teviothead, I left Brookside, and +as all the members of the family were wont to account that in which my +mother lived their home, it of course was mine. But, notwithstanding +that the change brought me almost to the very border of the vale of my +nativity, I regretted to leave Brookside. It was a beautiful and +interesting place, and the remembrance of it is like what Ossian says of +joys that are past--'sweet and mournful to the soul.' I loved the place, +was partial to the peacefulness of its retirement, its solitude, and the +intelligence of its society. I was near the laird's library, and I had a +garden in the glen. The latter was formed that I might gather home to +it, when in musing moods among the mountains, the wild-flowers, in order +to their cultivation, and my having something more of a possessory right +over them. It formed a contrast to the scenery around, and lured to +relaxation. Occasionally 'the lovely of the land' brought, with +industrious delight, plants and flowers, that they might have a share in +adorning it. Even when I was from home it was, upon the whole, well +attended to; for although, according to taste or caprice, changes were +made, yet I readily forgave the annoyances that might attend alteration, +and especially those by the hands that sometimes printed me pleasing +compliments on the clay with the little stones lifted from the walks. If +the things which I have written and given to the world, or may yet give, +continue to be cared for, these details may not be wholly without use, +inasmuch as they will serve to explain frequent allusions which might +otherwise seem introduced at capricious random, or made without a +meaning. + +"Shortly after becoming a probationer, I came to reside in this +district, and, not long after, the preacher who officiated in the +preaching-station here died. The people connected with it wished me to +become his successor, which, after some difficulties on their part had +been surmounted, I became. I had other views at the time which were +promising and important; but as there had been untoward disturbances in +the place, owing to the lack of defined rights and privileges, I had it +in my power to become a peacemaker, and, besides, I felt it my duty to +comply with a call which was both cordial and unanimous. I now laid +wholly aside those things which pertain to the pursuits of romantic +literature, and devoted myself to the performance of incumbent duties. +In consequence of no house having been provided for the preacher, and no +one to be obtained but at a very inconvenient distance, I was in this +respect very inconveniently situated. Travelling nine miles to the scene +of my official duties, it was frequently my hap to preach in a very +uncomfortable condition, when, indeed, the wet would be pouring from my +arms on the Bible before me, and oozing over my shoes when the foot was +stirred on the pulpit floor. But, by and by, the Duke of Buccleuch built +a dwelling-house for me, the same which I still occupy." + +To the ministerial charge of the then preaching station of Teviothead Mr +Riddell was about to receive ordination, at the united solicitation of +his hearers, when he was suddenly visited with severe affliction. Unable +to discharge pulpit duty for a period of years, the pastoral +superintendence of the district was devolved on another; and on his +recovery, with commendable forbearance, he did not seek to interfere +with the new ecclesiastical arrangement. This procedure was generously +approved of by the Duke of Buccleuch, who conferred upon him the right +to occupy the manse cottage, along with a grant of land, and a small +annuity. + +Mr Riddell's autobiography proceeds:--"In the hope of soon obtaining a +permanent and comfortable settlement at Teviothead, I had ventured to +make my own, by marriage, her who had in heart been mine through all my +college years, and who for my sake had, in the course of these, rejected +wealth and high standing in life. The heart that, for the sake of leal +faith and love, could despise wealth and its concomitants, and brave the +risk of embracing comparative poverty, even at its best estate, was not +one likely overmuch to fear that poverty when it appeared, nor flinch +with an altered tone from the position which it had adopted, when it +actually came. This, much rather, fell to my part. It preyed upon my +mind too deeply not to prove injurious in its effects; and it did this +all the more, that the voice of love, true to its own law, had the words +of hope and consolation in it, but never those of complaint. It appeared +the _acme_ of the severity of fate itself to have lived to be the mean +of placing a heart and mind so rich in disinterested affection on so +wild and waste a scene of trial. + +"From an experience of fourteen years, in which there were changes in +almost all things except in the affection which bound two hearts in one, +before the hands were united, it might be expected that I should give +some eminent admonitions concerning the imprudence of men, and +particularly of students, allowing their hearts to become interested in, +and the remembrance of their minds more fraught with the rich beauty of +auburn ringlets than in the untoward confusion, for example, of +irregular Greek verbs; yet I much fear that admonition would be of no +use. If their fate be woven of a texture similar to that of mine, how +can they help it? A man may have an idea that to cling to the shelter +which he has found, and indulge in the sleep that has overtaken him amid +the stormy blasts of the waste mountains, may be little else than +opening for himself the gates of death, yet the toils of the way through +which he has already passed may also have rendered him incapable of +resisting the dangerous rest and repose of his immediate accommodation. +In regard to my own love affairs, I, throughout all these long years +which I have specified, might well have adopted, as the motto of both +mind and heart, these lines-- + + "'Oh, poortith cauld and restless love, + Ye wreck my peace between ye.' + +I had, as has already been hinted, a rival, who, if not so devotedly +attached as I, nevertheless was by far too much so for any one who is +destined to love without encouragement. He was as rich in proportion as +I was poor. The gifts of love, called the gifts of friendship, which he +contrived to bestow were costly; mine, as fashioned forth by a higher +hand than that of art, might be equally rich and beautiful in the main, +yet wild-flowers, though yellow as the gold, and though wrapped in +rhymes, are light ware when weighed against the solid material. He, in +personal appearance, manners, and generosity of heart, was one with whom +it was impossible to be acquainted and not to esteem; and another +feature of this affair was, that we were friends, and almost constant +companions for some years. When in the country I had to be with him as +continually as possible; and when I went to the city, it was his wont to +follow me. Here, then, was a web strangely woven by the fingers of a +wayward fate. Feelings were brought into daily exercise which might seem +the least compatible with being brought into contact and maintained in +harmony. And these things, which are strictly true, if set forth in the +contrivances of romance might, or in all likelihood would, be pronounced +unnatural or overstrained. The worth and truth of the heart to which +these fond anxieties related left me no ground to fear for losing that +regard which I valued as 'light and life' itself; but in another way +there reached me a matchless misery, and which haunted me almost as +constantly as my own shadow when the sun shone. Considering the dark +uncertainty of my future prospects in life, that regard I felt it +fearful almost beyond measure even to seek to retain, incurring the +responsibility of marring the fortune of one whom nevertheless I could +not bear the thought of another than myself having the bliss of +rendering blessed. If selfishness be thus seen to exist even in love +itself, I would fain hope that it is of an elevated and peculiar kind, +and not that which grovels, dragging downwards, and therefore justly +deserving of the name. I am the more anxious in regard to this on +account of its being in my own case felt so deeply. It maintained its +ground with more or less firmness at all times, and ultimately +triumphed, in despite of all efforts made to the contrary over the +suggestions of prudence and even the sterner reasonings of the sense of +justice. In times of sadness and melancholy, which, like the preacher's +days of darkness, were many, when hope scarcely lit the gloom of the +heart on which it sat though the band of love was about its brow, I +busied myself in endeavouring to form resolutions to resign my +pretensions to the warmer regard of her who was the object of all this +serious solicitude; but neither she herself, nor time and place seemed, +so far as I could see, disposed in the least to aid me in these efforts +of self-control and denial; and, indeed, even at best, I much suspect +that the resolutions of lovers in such cases are only like the little +dams which the rivulet forms in itself by the frail material of stray +grass-piles, and wild-rose leaves, easily overturned by the next slight +impulse that the wave receives. In a ballad called 'Lanazine,' written +somewhat in the old irregular style, sentiments relating to this matter, +a little--and only a little--disguised, are set forth. The following is +a portion of these records, written from time to time for the sake of +preserving to the memory what might once be deeply interesting to the +heart:-- + + "'O who may love with warm true heart, + And then from love refrain? + Who say 'tis fit we now should part + And never meet again? + + "'The heart once broken bleeds no more, + And a deep sound sleep it hath, + Where the stir of pain ne'er travels o'er + The solitude of death. + + "'The moon is set, and the star is gone, + And the cure, though cruel, cures, + But the heart left lone must sorrow on, + While the tie of life endures. + + "'He had nor gold nor land, and trow'd + Himself unworthy all, + And sternly in his soul had vow'd + His fond love to recall. + + "'For her he loved he would not wrong, + Since fate would ne'er agree, + And went to part with a sore, sore heart, + In the bower of the greenwood tree. + + "'The dews were deep, and the leaves were green, + And the eve was soft and still; + But strife may reach the vale I ween, + Though no blasts be on the hill. + + "'The leaves were green, and the dews were deep, + And the foot was light upon + The grass and flowers, round the bower asleep; + But parting there could be none. + + "'He spoke the word with a struggle hard, + And the fair one forward sprung, + Nor ever wist, till like one too blest, + Her arms were round him flung. + + "'For the fair one whom he'd woo'd before, + While the chill night breezes sigh'd, + Could wot not why she loved him more + Than ere she thus was tried. + + "'A red--not weak--came o'er her cheek, + And she turn'd away anon; + But since nor he nor she could speak, + Still parting there could be none. + + "'I could have lived alone for thee,' + He said; 'So lived could I,' + She answer'd, while it seem'd as she + Had wish'd even then to die. + + "'For pale, pale grew her cheek I ween, + While his arms, around her thrown, + Left space no plea to come between, + So parting there could be none. + + "'She cool'd his brow with the heart's own drop, + While the brain seem'd burning there, + And her whisper reach'd the realm of hope + Through the darkness of despair. + + "'She bade his soul be still and free, + In the light of love to live, + And soothed it with the sympathy + Which a woman's heart can give. + + "'And it seem'd more than all before + E'er given to mortal man, + The radiance came, and with it bore + The angel of the dawn. + + "'For ever since Eve her love-bower would weave, + As the first of all her line, + No one on earth had had more of worth + Than the lovely Lanazine. + + "'And if Fortune's frown would o'er him come down, + Less marvel it may be, + Since he woo'd all while to make his own + A lovelier far than she.' + + * * * * * + +"Notwithstanding the ever-living solicitude and sad suffering +constituting the keen and trying experience of many years, as arising in +consequence of this attachment and untoward circumstances, it has +brought more than a sufficient compensation; and were it possible, and +the choice given, I would assuredly follow the same course, and suffer +it all over again, rather than be without 'that treasure of departed +sorrow' that is even now at my right hand as I write these lines. + +"'The Christian Politician'[4] was published during the time of my +indisposition. This work I had written at leisure hours, with the hopes +of its being beneficial to the people placed under my care, by giving +them a general and connected view of the principles and philosophical +bearing of the Christian religion. In exhorting them privately, I +discovered that many of them understood that religion better in itself, +than they appeared to comprehend the manner in which it stood in +connexion with the surrounding circumstances of this life. In other +words, they were acquainted with doctrines and principles whose +application and use, whether in regard to thought, or feeling, or daily +practice, they did not so clearly recognise. To remedy this state of +things, I wrote 'The Christian Politician' in a style as simple as the +subjects treated of in it would well admit of, giving it a +conversational cast, instead of systematic arrangement, that it might +be the less forbidding to those for whom it was principally intended. +Being published, however, at the time when, through my indisposition, I +could take no interest in it, it was sent forth in a somewhat more +costly shape than rightly suited the original design; and although +extensively introduced and well received, it was in society of a higher +order than that which it was its object chiefly to benefit. + +"My latest publication is a volume of 'Poems and Songs,'[5] published by +Messrs Sutherland and Knox of Edinburgh. 'The Cottagers of Glendale,' +the 'Lay of Life,' and some others of the compositions in this volume, +were written during the period of my convalescence; the songs are, for +the greater part, the production of 'the days of other years.' Many of +the latter had been already sung in every district of the kingdom, but +had been much corrupted in the course of oral transmission. These +wanderers of the hill-harp are now secured in a permanent form." + +To this autobiographical sketch it remains to be added, that Mr Riddell +is possessed of nearly all the qualities of a great master of the +Scottish lyre. He has viewed the national character where it is to be +seen in its most unsophisticated aspects, and in circumstances the most +favourable to its development. He has lived, too, among scenes the best +calculated to foster the poetic temperament. "He has got," wrote +Professor Wilson, "a poet's education: he has lived the greater part of +his days amidst pastoral scenes, and tended sheep among the green and +beautiful solitudes of nature." Sufficiently imaginative, he does not, +like his minstrel predecessor the Ettrick Shepherd, soar into the +regions of the supernatural, or roam among the scenes of the viewless +world. He sings of the mountain wilds and picturesque valleys of +Caledonia, and of the simple joys and habits of rural or pastoral life. +His style is essentially lyrical, and his songs are altogether true to +nature. Several of his songs, such as "Scotland Yet," "The Wild Glen sae +Green," "The Land of Gallant Hearts," and "The Crook and Plaid," will +find admirers while Scottish lyric poetry is read or sung. + +In 1855, Mr Riddell executed a translation of the Gospel of Matthew into +the Scottish language by command of Prince Lucien Bonaparte, a +performance of which only a limited number of copies have been printed +under the Prince's auspices. At present, he is engaged in preparing a +romance connected with Border history. + +FOOTNOTES: + +[1] A flock of sheep. + +[2] See Minstrel, vol. iii. p. 186. + +[3] "Songs of the Ark, with other Poems." Edin. 1831. 8vo. + +[4] "The Christian Politician, or the Right Way of Thinking." Edinburgh, +1844, 8vo. This work, now nearly out of print, we would especially +commend to the favourable attention of the Religious Tract Society.--ED. + +[5] "Poems, Songs, and Miscellaneous Pieces." Edinburgh, 1847, 12mo. + + + + +THE WILD GLEN SAE GREEN. + +AIR--_"The Posy, or Roslin Castle."_ + + + When my flocks upon the heathy hill are lying a' at rest, + And the gloamin' spreads its mantle gray o'er the world's dewy breast, + I'll take my plaid and hasten through yon woody dell unseen, + And meet my bonnie lassie in the wild glen sae green. + + I'll meet her by the trysting-tree, that's stannin' a' alane, + Where I hae carved her name upon yon little moss gray stane, + There I will fauld her to my breast, and be mair bless'd I ween + Than a' that are aneath the sky, in the wild glen sae green. + + Her head reclined upon this heart, in simple bliss I'll share + The pure, pure kiss o' tender love that owns nae earthly care, + And spirits hovering o'er us shall bless the heartfelt scene, + While I woo my bonnie lassie in the wild glen sae green. + + My fauldin' plaid shall shield her frae the gloamin's chilly gale; + The star o' eve shall mark our joy, but shall not tell our tale-- + Our simple tale o' tender love--that tauld sae oft has been + To my bonnie, bonnie lassie, in the wild glen sae green. + + It may be sweet at morning hour, or at the noon o' day, + To meet wi' those that we lo'e weel in grove or garden gay; + But the sweetest bliss o' mortal life is at the hour o' e'en, + Wi' a bonnie, bonnie lassie, in the wild glen sae green. + + O! I could wander earth a' o'er, nor care for aught o' bliss, + If I might share, at my return, a joy sae pure as this; + And I could spurn a' earthly wealth--a palace and a queen, + For my bonnie, bonnie lassie, in the wild glen sae green! + + + + +SCOTIA'S THISTLE. + + + Scotia's thistle guards the grave, + Where repose her dauntless brave; + Never yet the foot of slave + Has trode the wilds of Scotia. + Free from tyrant's dark control-- + Free as waves of ocean roll-- + Free as thoughts of minstrel's soul, + Still roam the sons of Scotia. + + Scotia's hills of hoary hue, + Heaven wraps in wreathes of blue, + Watering with its dearest dew + The heathy locks of Scotia. + Down each green-wood skirted vale, + Guardian spirits, lingering, hail + Many a minstrel's melting tale, + As told of ancient Scotia. + + When the shades of eve invest + Nature's dew-bespangled breast, + How supremely man is blest + In the glens of Scotia! + There no dark alarms convey + Aught to chase life's charms away; + There they live, and live for aye, + Round the homes of Scotia. + + Wake, my hill harp! wildly wake! + Sound by lee and lonely lake, + Never shall this heart forsake + The bonnie wilds of Scotia. + Others o'er the ocean's foam + Far to other lands may roam, + But for ever be my home + Beneath the sky of Scotia! + + + + +THE LAND OF GALLANT HEARTS. + + + Ours is the land of gallant hearts, + The land of lovely forms, + The island of the mountain-harp, + The torrents and the storms; + The land that blooms with freeman's tread, + And withers with the slave's, + Where far and deep the green woods spread, + And wild the thistle waves. + + Ere ever Ossian's lofty voice + Had told of Fingal's fame, + Ere ever from their native clime + The Roman eagles came, + Our land had given heroes birth, + That durst the boldest brave, + And taught above tyrannic dust, + The thistle tufts to wave. + + What need we say how Wallace fought, + And how his foemen fell? + Or how on glorious Bannockburn + The work went wild and well? + Ours is the land of gallant hearts, + The land of honour'd graves, + Whose wreath of fame shall ne'er depart + While yet the thistle waves. + + + + +THE YELLOW LOCKS O' CHARLIE. + + + The gathering clans, 'mong Scotia's glens, + Wi' martial steps are bounding, + And loud and lang, the wilds amang, + The war pipe's strains are sounding; + The sky and stream reflect the gleam + Of broadswords glancing rarely, + To guard till death the hills of heath + Against the foes o' Charlie. + + Then let on high the banners fly, + And hearts and hands rise prouder, + And wake amain the warlike strain + Still louder, and still louder; + For we ha'e sworn, ere dawn the morn + O'er Appin's mountains early, + Auld Scotland's crown shall nod aboon + The yellow locks o' Charlie. + + While banners wave aboon the brave + Our foemen vainly gather, + And swear to claim, by deeds o' fame, + Our hills and glens o' heather. + For seas shall swell to wild and fell, + And crown green Appin fairly, + Ere hearts so steel'd to foemen yield + The rights o' royal Charlie. + + Then wake mair loud the pibroch proud, + And let the mountains hoary + Re-echo round the warlike sound + That speaks of Highland glory. + For strains sublime, through future time, + Shall tell the tale unsparely, + How Scotland's crown was placed aboon + The yellow locks o' Charlie. + + + + +WE'LL MEET YET AGAIN. + + + We'll meet yet again, my loved fair one, when o'er us + The sky shall be bright, and the bower shall be green, + And the visions of life shall be lovely before us + As the sunshine of summer that sleeps o'er the scene. + The woodlands are sad when the green leaves are fading, + And sorrow is deep when the dearest must part, + But for each darker woe that our spirit is shading + A joy yet more bright shall return to the heart. + + We'll meet yet again, when the pain, disconcerting + The peace of our minds in a moment like this, + Shall melt into nought, like the tears of our parting, + Or live but in mem'ry to heighten our bliss. + We have loved in the hours when a hope scarce could find us; + We've loved when our hearts were the lightest of all, + And the same tender tie that has bound still shall bind us, + When the dark chain of fate shall have ceased to enthral. + + We'll meet yet again, when the spirit of gladness + Shall breathe o'er the valley, and brighten its flowers, + And the lone hearts of those who have long been in sadness + Shall gather delight from the transport of ours; + Yes, thine are the charms, love, that never can perish, + And thine is the star that my guide still shall be, + Alluring the hope in this soul that shall cherish + Its life's dearest treasures, to share them with thee. + + + + +OUR AIN NATIVE LAND. + + + Our ain native land! our ain native land! + There's a charm in the words that we a' understand, + That flings o'er the bosom the power of a spell, + And makes us love mair what we a' love so well. + The heart may have feelings it canna conceal, + As the mind has the thoughts that nae words can reveal, + But alike he the feelings and thought can command + Who names but the name o' our ain native land. + + Our ain native land! our ain native land! + Though bleak be its mountains and rugged its strand, + The waves aye seem bless'd, dancing wild o'er the sea, + When woke by the winds from the hills o' the free. + Our sky oft is dark, and our storms loud and cauld, + But where are the hearts that sic worth can unfauld + As those that unite, and uniting expand, + When they hear but the name o' our ain native land? + + Our ain native land! our ain native land! + To hear of her famed ones let none e'er demand, + For the hours o' a' time far too little would prove + To name but the names that we honour and love. + The bard lives in light, though his heart it be still, + And the cairn of the warrior stands gray on the hill, + And songster and sage can alike still command + A garland of fame from our ain native land. + + Our ain native land! our ain native land! + Her wild woods are glorious, her waterfalls grand, + And her songs still proclaim, as they ring through the glen, + The charms of her maids and the worth of her men. + Her thistle shall cease in the breezes to wave, + And the floweret to bloom on the patriot's grave, + Ere we cease to defend, with our heart and our hand, + The freedom and faith of our ain native land. + + + + +THE GRECIAN WAR SONG. + + + On! on to the fields, where of old + The laurels of freedom were won; + Let us think, as the banners of Greece we unfold, + Of the brave in the pages of glory enroll'd, + And the deeds by our forefathers done! + O yet, if there's aught that is dear, + Let bravery's arm be its shield; + Let love of our country give power to each spear, + And beauty's pale cheek dry its long-gather'd tear + In the light of the weapons we wield. + Awake then to glory, that Greece yet may be + The land--the proud land of the famed and the free! + + Rear! rear the proud trophies once more, + Where Persia's hosts were o'erthrown; + Let the song of our triumph arise on our shore, + Till the mountains give back the far sounds, as of yore, + To the fields where our foemen lie strewn! + Oh ne'er shall our bold efforts cease + Till the garlands of freedom shall wave + In breezes, which, fraught with the tidings of peace, + Shall wander o'er all the fair islands of Greece, + And cool not the lip of a slave; + Awake then to glory! that Greece yet may be + The land--the proud land of the famed and the free! + + + + +FLORA'S LAMENT. + + + More dark is my soul than the scenes of yon islands, + Dismantled of all the gay hues that they wore; + For lost is my hope since the Prince of the Highlands + 'Mong these, his wild mountains, can meet me no more. + Ah! Charlie, how wrung was this heart when it found thee + Forlorn, and the die of thy destiny cast; + Thy Flora was firm 'mid the perils around thee, + But where were the brave of the land that had own'd thee, + That she--only she--should be true to the last? + + The step's in the bark on the dark heaving waters, + That now should have been on the floor of a throne; + And, alas for auld Scotland, her sons and her daughters! + Thy wish was their welfare, thy cause was their own. + But 'lorn may we sigh where the hill-winds awaken, + And weep in the glen where the cataracts foam, + And sleep where the dew-drops are deep on the bracken; + Thy foot has the land of thy fathers forsaken, + And more--never more will it yield thee a home. + + Oh! yet when afar, in the land of the stranger, + If e'er on thy spirit remembrance may be + Of her who was true in these moments of danger, + Reprove not the heart that still lives but for thee. + The night-shrouded flower from the dawning shall borrow + A ray, all the glow of its charms to renew, + But Charlie, ah! Charlie, no ray to thy Flora + Can dawn from thy coming to chase the dark sorrow + Which death, in thine absence, alone can subdue. + + + + +WHEN THE GLEN ALL IS STILL. + +AIR--_"Cold Frosty Morning."_ + + + When the glen all is still, save the stream of the fountain, + When the shepherd has ceased o'er the dark heath to roam, + And the wail of the plover awakes on the mountain, + Inviting her mate to return to his home-- + Oh! meet me, Eliza, adown by the wild-wood, + Where the wild daisies sleep 'mong the low-lying dew, + And our bliss shall be sweet as the visions of childhood, + And pure as the fair star, in heaven's deep blue. + + Thy locks shall be braided in drops of the gloaming, + And fann'd by the far-travell'd breeze of the lawn; + The spirits of heaven shall know of thy coming, + And watch o'er our joy till the hour of the dawn. + No woes shall we know of dark fortune's decreeing, + Of the past and the future my dreams may not be, + For the light of thine eye seems the home of my being, + And my soul's fondest thoughts shall be gather'd to thee. + + + + +SCOTLAND YET.[6] + + + Gae, bring my guid auld harp ance mair,-- + Gae, bring it free and fast,-- + For I maun sing another sang + Ere a' my glee be past; + And trow ye as I sing, my lads, + The burden o't shall be + Auld Scotland's howes, and Scotland's knowes, + And Scotland's hills for me-- + I'll drink a cup to Scotland yet + Wi' a' the honours three. + + The heath waves wild upon her hills, + And foaming frae the fells, + Her fountains sing o' freedom still, + As they dance down the dells; + And weel I lo'e the land, my lads, + That's girded by the sea; + Then Scotland's dales, and Scotland's vales, + And Scotland's hills for me-- + I'll drink a cup to Scotland yet + Wi' a' the honours three. + + The thistle wags upon the fields + Where Wallace bore his blade, + That gave her foemen's dearest bluid + To dye her auld gray plaid; + And looking to the lift, my lads, + He sang this doughty glee-- + Auld Scotland's right, and Scotland's might, + And Scotland's hills for me-- + I'll drink a cup to Scotland yet + Wi' a' the honours three. + + They tell o' lands wi' brighter skies, + Where freedom's voice ne'er rang; + Gie me the hills where Ossian lies, + And Coila's minstrel sang; + For I've nae skill o' lands, my lads, + That ken nae to be free; + Then Scotland's right, and Scotland's might, + And Scotland's hills for me-- + I'll drink a cup to Scotland yet + Wi' a' the honours three. + +FOOTNOTES: + +[6] This song, set to music by Mr Peter M'Leod, was published in a +separate form, and the profits, which amounted to a considerable sum, +given for the purpose of placing a parapet and railing around the +monument of Burns on the Calton Hill, Edinburgh. + + + + +THE MINSTREL'S GRAVE. + + + I sat in the vale, 'neath the hawthorns so hoary, + And the gloom of my bosom seem'd deep as their shade, + For remembrance was fraught with the far-travell'd story, + That told where the dust of the minstrel was laid: + I saw not his harp on the wild boughs above me, + I heard not its anthems the mountains among; + But the flow'rets that bloom'd on his grave were more lovely + Than others would seem to the earth that belong. + + "Sleep on," said my soul, "in the depths of thy slumber + Sleep on, gentle bard! till the shades pass away; + For the lips of the living the ages shall number + That steal o'er thy heart in its couch of decay: + Oh! thou wert beloved from the dawn of thy childhood, + Beloved till the last of thy suffering was seen, + Beloved now that o'er thee is waving the wild-wood, + And the worm only living where rapture hath been. + + "Till the footsteps of time are their travel forsaking, + No form shall descend, and no dawning shall come, + To break the repose that thy ashes are taking, + And call them to life from their chamber of gloom: + Yet sleep, gentle bard! for, though silent for ever, + Thy harp in the hall of the chieftain is hung; + No time from the mem'ry of mankind shall sever + The tales that it told, and the strains that it sung." + + + + +OUR OWN LAND AND LOVED ONE. + +AIR--_"Buccleuch Gathering."_ + + + No sky shines so bright as the sky that is spread + O'er the land that gave birth to the first breath we drew-- + Such radiance but lives in the eye of the maid + That is dear to our heart--to our heart ever true. + + With her--yes, with her that this spirit has bless'd, + 'Neath my dear native sky let my home only be; + And the valley of flowers, and the heath-covered waste, + Shall alike have a spell of enchantment for me. + + Let her eye pour its light o'er the joy of my heart, + Or mingle its beam with the gloom of my woe, + And each shadow of care from the soul shall depart, + Save of care that on her it is bliss to bestow. + + My thought shall not travel to sun-lighted isles, + Nor my heart own a wish for the wealth they may claim, + But live and be bless'd in rewarding her smiles + With the song of the harp that shall hallow her name. + + The anthems of music delightful may roll, + Or eloquence flow as the waves of the sea, + But the sounds that enchantment can shed o'er the soul + Are--the lass that we love, and the land that is free! + + + + +THE BOWER OF THE WILD. + + + I form'd a green bower by the rill o' yon glen, + Afar from the din and the dwellings of men; + Where still I might linger in many a dream, + And mingle my strains wi' the voice o' the stream. + From the cave and the cliff, where the hill foxes roam, + Where the earn has his nest and the raven his home, + I brought the young flower-buds ere yet they had smiled, + And taught them to bloom round my bower of the wild. + + But the fair maidens came, from yon vale far away, + And sought my lone grotto still day after day, + And soon were the stems of their fair blossoms shorn + That the flowers of the bard might their ringlets adorn. + Full fair were they all, but the maiden most fair + Would still have no flower till I pull'd it with care; + And gentle, and simple, and modest, and mild, + She stole my lone heart in the bower of the wild. + + The summer is past, and the maidens are gone, + And this heart, like my grotto, is wither'd and lone, + And yet, with the winter, I'll cease not to mourn, + Unless, with the blossoms, these fair ones return. + Oh! had they ne'er come, or had ne'er gone away, + I sing in my sorrow still day after day. + The scene seems a desert--the charm is exiled, + And woe to my blooms and my bower of the wild! + + + + +THE CROOK AND PLAID. + +AIR--_"The Ploughman."_ + + + I winna love the laddie that ca's the cart and pleugh, + Though he should own that tender love, that's only felt by few; + For he that has this bosom a' to fondest love betray'd, + Is the faithfu' shepherd laddie that wears the crook and plaid; + For he's aye true to his lassie--he's aye true to his lassie, + Who wears the crook and plaid. + + At morn he climbs the mountains wild his fleecy flocks to view, + While o'er him sweet the laverock sings, new sprung frae 'mang the dew; + His doggie frolics roun' and roun', and may not weel be stay'd, + Sae blithe it is the laddie wi' that wears the crook and plaid; + And he's aye true, &c. + + At noon he leans him down upon the high and heathy fell, + And views his flocks, beneath him a', fair feeding in the dell; + And there he sings the sangs o' love, the sweetest ever made; + O! how happy is the laddie that wears the crook and plaid; + And he's aye true, &c. + + He pu's the bells o' heather red, and the lily-flowers sae meek, + Ca's the lily like my bosom, and the heath-bell like my cheek; + His words are sweet and tender, as the dews frae heaven shed; + And weel I love to list the lad who wears the crook and plaid; + For he's aye true, &c. + + When the dews begin to fauld the flowers, and the gloamin' shades draw on, + When the star comes stealing through the sky, and the kye are on the loan, + He whistles through the glen sae sweet, the heart is lighter made + To ken the laddie hameward hies who wears the crook and plaid; + For he's aye true, &c. + + Beneath the spreading hawthorn gray, that's growing in the glen, + He meets me in the gloamin' aye, when nane on earth can ken, + To woo and vow, and there I trow, whatever may be said, + He kens aye unco weel the way to row me in his plaid; + For he's aye true, &c. + + The youth o' mony riches may to his fair one ride, + And woo across the table cauld his madam-titled bride; + But I'll gang to the hawthorn gray, where cheek to cheek is laid, + Oh! nae wooers like the laddie that rows me in his plaid; + And he's aye true, &c. + + To own the truth o' tender love what heart wad no comply, + Since love gives purer happiness than aught aneath the sky? + If love be in the bosom, then the heart is ne'er afraid; + And through life I'll love the laddie that wears the crook and plaid; + For he's aye true, &c. + + + + +THE MINSTREL'S BOWER. + +AIR--_"Bonnie Mary Hay."_ + + + Oh, lassie! if thou'lt gang to yonder glen wi' me, + I'll weave the wilds amang a bonnie bower for thee; + I'll weave a bonnie bower o' the birks and willows green, + And to my heart thou'lt be what nae other e'er has been. + + When the dew is on the flower, and the starlight on the lea, + In the bonnie green-wood bower I'll wake my harp to thee; + I'll wake my hill-harp's strain, and the echoes o' the dell + Shall restore the tales again that its notes o' love shall tell. + + Oh, lassie! thou art fair as the morning's early beam, + As the image of a flower reflected frae the stream; + There's kindness in thy heart, and there's language in thine e'e, + But ah! its looks impart nae sweet tale o' love to me! + + Oh, lassie! wert thou mine I wad love thee wi' such love + As the lips can ne'er define, and the cold can never prove; + In the bower by yonder stream our happy home should be, + And our life a blissful dream, while I lived alone for thee. + + When I am far away my thoughts on thee shall rest, + Allured, as by a ray, frae the dwellings o' the blest; + For beneath the clouds o' dew, where'er my path may be, + Oh! a maiden fair as thou, I again shall never see! + + + + +WHEN THE STAR OF THE MORNING. + + + When the star of the morning is set, + And the heavens are beauteous and blue, + And the bells of the heather are wet + With the drops of the deep-lying dew; + 'Mong the flocks on the mountains that lie, + 'Twas blithesome and blissful to be, + When these all my thoughts would employ; + But now I must think upon thee. + + When noontide displays all its powers, + And the flocks to the valley return, + To lie and to feed 'mong the flowers + That bloom on the banks of the burn; + O sweet, sweet it was to recline + 'Neath the shade of yon hoar hawthorn-tree, + And think on the charge that was mine; + But now I must think upon thee. + + When Gloaming stole down from the rocks, + With her fingers of shadowy light, + And the dews of the eve in her locks, + To spread down a couch for the night; + 'Twas sweet through yon green birks to stray, + That border the brook and the lea; + But now, 'tis a wearisome way, + Unless it were travell'd with thee. + + All lovely and pure as thou art, + And generous of thought and of will, + Oh Mary! speak thou to this heart, + And bid its wild beating be still; + I'd give all the ewes in the fold-- + I'd give all the lambs on the lea, + By night or by day to behold + One look of true kindness from thee. + + + + +THOUGH ALL FAIR WAS THAT BOSOM. + + + Though all fair was that bosom, heaving white, + While hung this fond spirit o'er thee; + And though that eye, with beauty's light, + Still bedimm'd every eye before thee; + Oh! charms there were still more divine, + When woke that melting voice of thine, + The charms that caught this soul of mine, + And taught it to adore thee. + + Then died the woes of the heart away + With the thoughts of joys departed; + For my soul seem'd but to live in thy lay, + While it told of the faithful-hearted. + Methought how sweet it were to be + Far in some wild green glen with thee; + From all of life and of longing free, + Save what pure love imparted. + + Oh! I could stray where the drops of dew + Never fell on the desert round me, + And dwell where the fair flowers never grew + If the hymns of thy voice still found me. + Thy smile itself could the soul invest + With all that here makes mortals bless'd; + While every thought thy lips express'd + In deeper love still bound me. + + + + +WOULD THAT I WERE WHERE WILD WOODS WAVE. + + + Would that I were where wild woods wave + Aboon the beds where sleep the brave; + And where the streams o' Scotia lave + Her hills and glens o' grandeur! + + Where freedom reigns, and friendship dwells, + Bright as the sun upon the fells, + When autumn brings the heather-bells + In all their native splendour. + The thistle wi' the hawthorn joins, + The birks mix wi' the mountain pines, + And heart with dauntless heart combines + For ever to defend her. + Then would I were, &c. + + There roam the kind, and live the leal, + By lofty ha' and lowly shiel; + And she for whom the heart must feel + A kindness still mair tender. + Fair, where the light hill breezes blaw, + The wild-flowers bloom by glen and shaw; + But she is fairer than them a', + Wherever she may wander. + Then would I were, &c. + + Still, far or near, by wild or wood, + I'll love the generous, wise, and good; + But she shall share the dearest mood + That Heaven to life may render. + What boots it then thus on to stir, + And still from love's enjoyment err, + When I to Scotland and to her + Must all this heart surrender. + Then would I were, &c. + + + + +OH! TELL ME WHAT SOUND. + +AIR--_"Paddy's Resource."_ + + + Oh! tell me what sound is the sweetest to hear-- + The sound that can most o'er our being prevail? + 'Tis the sweet melting voice of the maid we love dear, + When chanting the songs of her own native vale. + More thrilling is this than the tone of the gale, + Awakening the wind-harp's wild wandering lore; + More sweet than the songster that sings in the dale, + When the strains of the rest of the warblers are o'er. + + Oh! tell me what light, of the earth or the sky, + Can the deepest delight to the spirit impart? + 'Tis the bright beaming radiance that lives in the eye + Of the maid that affection has bound to the heart. + More charming is this than the glory of art, + More lovely than rays from yon heavens above; + It heightens each joy, as it soothes every smart, + Enchanting our souls with the magic of love. + + Oh! tell me what drop is most melting and meek + That aught 'neath the azure of heaven can share? + 'Tis the tear-drop that falls o'er the dear maiden's cheek + When she breathes o'er her lover her sigh and her prayer! + More tender is this--more celestial and fair-- + Than the dew-drop that springs from the chamber of morn; + A balm that still softens the ranklings of care, + And heals every wound that the bosom hath borne. + + + + +OUR MARY.[7] + + + Our Mary liket weel to stray + Where clear the burn was rowin', + And trouth she was, though I say sae, + As fair as ought ere made o' clay, + And pure as ony gowan. + + And happy, too, as ony lark + The clud might ever carry; + She shunn'd the ill, and sought the good, + E'en mair than weel was understood; + And a' fouk liket Mary. + + But she fell sick wi' some decay, + When she was but eleven; + And as she pined frae day to day, + We grudged to see her gaun away, + Though she was gaun to Heaven. + + There's fears for them that's far awa', + And fykes for them are flitting, + But fears and cares, baith grit and sma', + We, by and by, o'er-pit them a'; + But death there's nae o'er-pitting. + + And nature's bands are hard to break, + When thus they maun be broken; + And e'en the form we loved to see, + We canna lang, dear though it be, + Preserve it as a token. + + But Mary had a gentle heart-- + Heaven did as gently free her; + Yet lang afore she reach'd that part, + Dear sir, it wad hae made ye start + Had ye been there to see her. + + Sae changed, and yet sae sweet and fair, + And growing meek and meeker, + Wi' her lang locks o' yellow hair, + She wore a little angel's air, + Ere angels cam to seek her. + + And when she couldna stray out by, + The wee wild-flowers to gather; + She oft her household plays wad try, + To hide her illness frae our eye, + Lest she should grieve us farther. + + But ilka thing we said or did, + Aye pleased the sweet wee creature; + Indeed ye wad hae thought she had + A something in her made her glad + Ayont the course o' nature. + + For though disease, beyont remeed, + Was in her frame indented, + Yet aye the mair as she grew ill, + She grew and grew the lovelier still, + And mair and mair contented. + + But death's cauld hour cam' on at last, + As it to a' is comin'; + And may it be, whene'er it fa's, + Nae waur to others than it was + To Mary, sweet wee woman! + +FOOTNOTES: + +[7] This exquisite lay forms a portion of "The Cottagers of Glendale," +Mr Riddell's longest ballad poem. + + + + +MRS MARGARET M. INGLIS. + + +The writer of spirited and elegant poetry, Mrs Margaret Maxwell Inglis +was the youngest daughter of Alexander Murray, a medical practitioner, +who latterly accepted a small government situation in the town of +Sanquhar, Dumfriesshire. She was born at Sanquhar on the 27th October +1774, and at an early age became the wife of a Mr Finlay, who held a +subordinate post in the navy. On the death of her husband, which took +place in the West Indies, she resided with the other members of her +family in Dumfries; and in 1803, she married Mr John Inglis, only son of +John Inglis, D.D., minister of Kirkmabreck, in Galloway. By the death of +Mr Inglis in 1826, she became dependent, with three children by her +second marriage, on a small annuity arising from an appointment which +her late husband had held in the Excise. She relieved the sadness of her +widowhood by a course of extensive reading, and of composition both in +prose and verse. In 1838 she published, at the solicitation of friends, +a duodecimo volume, entitled "Miscellaneous Collection of Poems, chiefly +Scriptural Pieces." Of the compositions in this volume, there are +several of very superior merit, while the whole are marked by a vein of +elegant fancy. + +Mrs Inglis died in Edinburgh on the 21st December 1843. Eminently gifted +as a musician, she could boast of having been complimented by the poet +Burns on the grace with which she had, in his presence, sung his own +songs. Of retiring and unobtrusive habits, she mixed sparingly in +general society; but among her intimate friends, she was held in +estimation for the extent of her information and the unclouded +cheerfulness of her disposition. She has left some MSS. of poems and +songs, from which we have been privileged to make selections for the +present work. + + + + +SWEET BARD OF ETTRICK'S GLEN.[8] + +AIR--_"Banks of the Devon."_ + + + Sweet bard of Ettrick's glen! + Where art thou wandering? + Miss'd is thy foot on the mountain and lea. + Why round yon craggy rocks + Wander thy heedless flocks, + While lambies are list'ning and bleating for thee? + Cold as the mountain stream, + Pale as the moonlight beam, + Still is thy bosom, and closed is thine e'e. + Wild may the tempest's wave + Sweep o'er thy lonely grave; + Thou art deaf to the storm--it is harmless to thee. + + Like a meteor's brief light, + Like the breath of the morning, + Thy life's dream hath pass'd as a shadow gone by; + Till thy soft numbers stealing + O'er mem'ry's warm feeling, + Each line is embalm'd with a tear or a sigh. + Sweet was thy melody, + Rich as the rose's dye, + Shedding its odours o'er sorrow or glee; + Love laugh'd on golden wing, + Pleasure's hand touch'd the string, + All taught the strain to sing, Shepherd, by thee. + + Cold on Benlomond's brow + Flickers the drifted snow, + While down its sides the wild cataracts foam; + Winter's mad winds may sweep + Fierce o'er each glen and steep, + Thy rest is unbroken, and peaceful thy home. + And when on dewy wing + Comes the sweet bird of spring, + Chanting its notes on the bush or the tree; + The Bird of the Wilderness, + Low in the waving grass, + Shall, cow'ring, sing sadly its farewell to thee. + +FOOTNOTES: + +[8] This song was composed by Mrs Inglis, in honour of the Ettrick +Shepherd, shortly after the period of his death. + + + + +YOUNG JAMIE.[9] + +AIR--_"Drummond Castle."_ + + + Leafless and bare were the shrub and the flower, + Cauld was the drift that blew over yon mountain, + But caulder my heart at his last ling'ring hour, + Though warm was the tear-drap that fell frae my e'e. + O saft is the tint o' the gowan sae bonny, + The blue heather-bell and the rose sweet as ony, + But softer the blink o' his bonnie blue e'e, + And sweeter the smile o' young Jamie. + + Dark lowers the cloud o'er yon mountain sae hie, + Faint gloams the sun through the mists o' the ocean, + Rough rows the wave on whose bosom I see + The wee bit frail bark that bears Jamie frae me. + Oh, lang may I look o'er yon wild waste sae dreary, + And lang count the hours, now so lonesome and weary, + And oft may I see the leaf fade frae the tree, + Ere I see the blithe blink o' his bonnie blue e'e. + + Cheerless and wae, on yon snaw-cover'd thorn, + Mournfu' and lane is the chirp o' the Robin, + He looks through the storm, but nae shelter can see; + Come, Robin, and join the sad concert wi' me. + Oh, lang may I look o'er yon foam-crested billow, + And Hope dies away like a storm-broken willow; + Sweet Robin, the blossom again ye may see, + But I'll ne'er see the blink o' his bonnie blue e'e. + +FOOTNOTES: + +[9] Printed for the first time. + + + + +CHARLIE'S BONNET'S DOWN, LADDIE. + +AIR--_"Tullymet."_ + + + Let Highland lads, wi' belted plaids, + And bonnets blue and white cockades, + Put on their shields, unsheathe their blades, + And conquest fell begin; + And let the word be Scotland's heir: + And when their swords can do nae mair, + Lang bowstrings o' their yellow hair + Let Hieland lasses spin, laddie. + Charlie's bonnet's down, laddie, + Kilt yer plaid and scour the heather; + Charlie's bonnet's down, laddie, + Draw yer dirk and rin. + + Mind Wallace wight, auld Scotland's light, + And Douglas bright, and Scrymgeour's might, + And Murray Bothwell's gallant knight, + And Ruthven light and trim-- + Kirkpatrick black, wha in a crack + Laid Cressingham upon his back, + Garr'd Edward gather up his pack, + And ply his spurs and rin, laddie. + Charlie's bonnet's down, &c. + + + + +HEARD YE THE BAGPIPE? + + + Heard ye the bagpipe, or saw ye the banners + That floated sae light o'er the fields o' Kildairlie; + Saw ye the broadswords, the shields and the tartan hose, + Heard ye the muster-roll sworn to Prince Charlie? + Saw ye brave Appin, wi' bonnet and belted plaid, + Or saw ye the Lords o' Seaforth and Airlie; + Saw ye the Glengarry, M'Leod, and Clandonachil, + Plant the white rose in their bonnets for Charlie? + + Saw ye the halls o' auld Holyrood lighted up, + Kenn'd ye the nobles that revell'd sae rarely; + Saw ye the chiefs of Lochiel and Clanronald, + Wha rush'd frae their mountains to follow Prince Charlie? + But saw ye the blood-streaming fields of Culloden, + Or kenn'd ye the banners were tatter'd sae sairly; + Heard ye the pibroch sae wild and sae wailing, + That mourn'd for the chieftains that fell for Prince Charlie. + + Wha, in yon Highland glen, weary and shelterless, + Pillows his head on the heather sae barely; + Wha seeks the darkest night, wha maunna face the light, + Borne down by lawless might--gallant Prince Charlie? + Wha, like the stricken deer, chased by the hunter's spear, + Fled frae the hills o' his father sae scaredly; + But wha, by affection's chart, reigns in auld Scotland's heart-- + Wha but the royal, the gallant Prince Charlie? + + + + +BRUCE'S ADDRESS. + + + When the morning's first ray saw the mighty in arms, + And the tyrant's proud banners insultingly wave, + And the slogan of battle from beauty's fond arms + Roused the war-crested chieftain, his country to save; + The sunbeam that rose on our mountain-clad warriors, + And reflected their shields in the green rippling wave, + In its course saw the slain on the fields of their fathers, + And shed its last ray on their cold bloody graves. + + O'er those green beds of honour our war-song prepare, + And the red sword of vengeance triumphantly wave, + While the ghosts of the slain cry aloud--Do not spare, + Lead to victory and freedom, or die with the brave; + For the high soul of freedom no tyrant can fetter, + Like the unshackled billows our proud shores that lave; + Though oppressed, he will watch o'er the home of his fathers, + And rest his wan cheek on the tomb of the brave. + + To arms, then! to arms! Let the battle-cry rise, + Like the raven's hoarse croak, through their ranks let it sound; + Set their knell on the wing of each arrow that flies, + Till the shouts of the free shake the mountains around; + Let the cold-blooded, faint-hearted changeling now tremble, + For the war-shock shall reach to his dark-centered cave, + While the laurels that twine round the brows of the victors + Shall with rev'rence be strew'd o'er the tombs of the brave. + + + + +REMOVED FROM VAIN FASHION. + + + Removed from vain fashion, + From title's proud ken, + In a straw-cover'd cottage, + Deep hid in yon glen, + There dwells a sweet flow'ret, + Pure, lovely, and fair, + Though rear'd, like the snowdrop, + 'Midst hardships' chill air. + + No soft voice of kindred, + Or parent she knows-- + In the desert she blooms, + Like the sweet mountain rose, + Like the little stray'd lammie + That bleats on the lea; + She's soft, kind, and gentle, + And dear, dear to me. + + Though the rich dews of fortune + Ne'er water'd this stem, + Nor one fostering sunbeam + Matured the rich gem-- + Oh! give me that pure bosom, + Her lot let me share, + I'll laugh at distinction, + And smile away care. + + + + +WHEN SHALL WE MEET AGAIN? + + + When shall we meet again, + Meet ne'er to sever? + When shall Peace wreath her chain + Round us for ever? + When shall our hearts repose, + Safe from each breath that blows, + In this dark world of woes? + Never! oh, never! + + Fate's unrelenting hand + Long may divide us, + Yet in one holy land + One God shall guide us. + Then, on that happy shore, + Care ne'er shall reach us more, + Earth's vain delusions o'er, + Angels beside us. + + There, where no storms can chill, + False friends deceive us, + Where, with protracted thrill, + Hope cannot grieve us; + There with the pure in heart, + Far from fate's venom'd dart, + There shall we meet to part + Never! oh, never! + + + + +JAMES KING. + + +James King was born in Paisley in 1776. His paternal ancestors, for a +course of centuries, were farmers in the vicinity of Gleniffer Braes. +Having been only one year at school, he was, at the age of eight, +required to assist his father in his trade of muslin-weaving. Joining a +circulating library, he soon acquired an acquaintance with books; he +early wrote verses, and became the intimate associate of Tannahill, who +has honourably mentioned him in one of his poetical epistles. In his +fifteenth year he enlisted in a fencible regiment, which was afterwards +stationed at Inverness. On its being disembodied in 1798, he returned to +the loom at Paisley, where he continued till 1803, when he became a +recruit in the Renfrewshire county militia. He accompanied this regiment +to Margate, Deal, Dover, Portsmouth, and London, and subsequently to +Leith, the French prisoners' depot at Penicuick, and the Castle of +Edinburgh. At Edinburgh his poetical talents recommended him to some +attention from Sir Walter Scott, the Ettrick Shepherd, and several +others of the poets of the capital. + +Accused of exciting disaffection, and promoting an attempt made by a +portion of his comrades to resist lawful authority while the regiment +was stationed at Perth, King, though wholly innocent of the charge, +fearing the vengeance of the adjutant, who was hostile to him, contrived +to effect his escape. By a circuitous route, so as to elude the +vigilance of parties sent to apprehend him, he reached the district of +Galloway, where he obtained employment as a shepherd and agricultural +labourer. He subsequently wrought as a weaver at Crieff till 1815, when, +on his regiment being disembodied, he was honourably acquitted from the +charge preferred against him, and granted his discharge. He now settled +as a muslin-weaver, first at Glasgow, and afterwards at Paisley and +Charleston. He died at Charleston, near Paisley, on the 27th September +1849, in his seventy-third year. + +Of vigorous intellect, lively fancy, and a keen appreciation of the +humorous, King was much esteemed among persons of a rank superior to his +own. His mind was of a fine devotional cast, and his poetical +compositions are distinguished by earnestness of expression and +sentiment. + + + + +THE LAKE IS AT REST. + + + The lake is at rest, love, + The sun's on its breast, love, + How bright is its water, how pleasant to see; + Its verdant banks shewing + The richest flowers blowing, + A picture of bliss and an emblem of thee! + + Then, O fairest maiden! + When earth is array'd in + The beauties of heaven o'er mountain and lea, + Let me still delight in + The glories that brighten, + For they are, dear Anna, sweet emblems of thee. + + But, Anna, why redden? + I would not, fair maiden, + My tongue could pronounce what might tend to betray; + The traitor, the demon, + That could deceive woman, + His soul's all unfit for the glories of day. + + Believe me then, fairest, + To me thou art dearest; + And though I in raptures view lake, stream, and tree, + With flower blooming mountains, + And crystalline fountains, + I view them, fair maid, but as emblems of thee. + + + + +LIFE'S LIKE THE DEW. + +AIR--_"Scott's Boat Song."_ + + + No sound was heard o'er the broom-cover'd valley, + Save the lone stream o'er the rock as it fell, + Warm were the sunbeams, and glancing so gaily, + That gold seem'd to dazzle along the flower'd vale. + At length from the hill I heard, + Plaintively wild, a bard, + Yet pleasant to me was his soul's ardent flow; + "Remember what Morard says, + Morard of many days, + Life's like the dew on the hill of the roe. + + "Son of the peaceful vale, keep from the battle plain, + Sad is the song that the bugle-horns sing; + Though lovely the standard it waves o'er the mangled slain, + Widows' sighs stretching its broad gilded wing. + Hard are the laws that bind + Poor foolish man and blind; + But free thou may'st walk as the breezes that blow, + Thy cheeks with health's roses spread, + Till time clothes with snow thy head, + Fairer than dew on the hill of the roe. + + "Wouldst thou have peace in thy mind when thou'rt hoary, + Shun vice's paths in the days of thy bloom; + Innocence leads to the summit of glory, + Innocence gilds the dark shades of the tomb. + The tyrant, whose hands are red, + Trembles alone in bed; + But pure is the peasant's soul, pure as the snow, + No horror fiends haunt his rest, + Hope fills his placid breast, + Hope bright as dew on the hill of the roe." + + Ceased the soft voice, for gray mist was descending, + Slow rose the bard and retired from the hill, + The blackbird's mild notes with the thrush's were blending, + Oft scream'd the plover her wild notes and shrill, + Yet still from the hoary bard, + Methought the sweet song I heard, + Mix'd with instruction and blended with woe; + And oft as I pass along, + Chimes in mine ear his song, + "Life's like the dew on the hill of the roe." + + + + +ISOBEL PAGAN. + + +The author of a sweet pastoral lyric, which has been praised both by +Robert Burns and Allan Cunningham, Isobel Pagan claims a biographical +notice. She was born in the parish of New Cumnock, Ayrshire, about the +year 1741. Deserted by her relations in youth, and possessing only an +imperfect education, she was led into a course of irregularities which +an early moral training would have probably prevented. She was lame and +singularly ill-favoured, but her manners were spirited and amusing. Her +chief employment was the composition of verses, and these she sung as a +mode of subsistence. She published, in 1805, a volume of doggerel +rhymes, and was in the habit of satirising in verse those who had +offended her. Her one happy effort in song-making has preserved her +name. She lived chiefly in the neighbourhood of Muirkirk. She died on +the 3d November 1821, in her eightieth year, and her remains were +interred in the churchyard of Muirkirk. A tombstone marks her grave. + + + + +CA' THE YOWES TO THE KNOWES.[10] + + + Ca' the yowes to the knowes, + Ca' them where the heather grows, + Ca' them where the burnie rows, + My bonnie dearie. + + As I gaed down the water-side, + There I met my shepherd lad, + He row'd me sweetly in his plaid, + An' he ca'd me his dearie. + + "Will ye gang down the water-side, + And see the waves sae sweetly glide + Beneath the hazels spreading wide? + The moon it shines fu' clearly. + + "Ye shall get gowns and ribbons meet, + Cauf-leather shoon to thy white feet, + And in my arms ye'se lie and sleep, + And ye shall be my dearie." + + "If ye'll but stand to what ye've said, + I'se gang wi' you, my shepherd lad, + And ye may row me in your plaid, + And I shall be your dearie." + + "While water wimples to the sea, + While day blinks in the lift sae hie, + Till clay-cauld death shall blin' my e'e, + Ye shall be my dearie." + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[10] Of this song a new version was composed by Burns, the original +chorus being retained. Burns' version commences--"Hark the mavis' +evening sang." + + + + +JOHN MITCHELL. + + +John Mitchell, the Paisley bard, died in that place on the 12th August +1856, in his seventieth year. He was born at Paisley in 1786. The labour +of weaving he early sought to relieve by the composition of verses. He +contributed pieces, both in prose and verse, to the _Moral and Literary +Observer_, a small Paisley periodical of the year 1823, and of which he +was the publisher. In 1838, he appeared as the author of "A Night on the +Banks of the Doon, and other Poems," a volume which was followed in 1840 +by "The Wee Steeple's Ghaist, and other Poems and Songs," the latter +being dedicated to Professor Wilson. In the year 1840, he likewise +produced, jointly with a Mr Dickie, the "Philosophy of Witchcraft," a +work which, published by Messrs Oliver and Boyd, was well received. His +next publication appeared in 1845, with the title, "One Hundred Original +Songs." His last work, "My Gray Goose Quill, and other Poems and Songs," +was published in 1852. + +Mitchell employed himself latterly in forwarding the sale of his +publications, and succeeded by this course in securing a comfortable +maintenance. He wrote verses with much readiness, and occasionally with +considerable power. His songs, which we have selected for the present +work, are distinguished by graceful simplicity and elegant pathos. Had +Mitchell written less, and more carefully, he had reached a higher niche +in the Temple of National Song. His manners were eccentric, and he was +not unconscious of his poetical endowments. + + + + +BEAUTY. + + + What wakes the Poet's lyre? + 'Tis Beauty; + What kindles his poetic fire? + 'Tis Beauty; + What makes him seek, at evening's hour, + The lonely glen, the leafy bower, + When dew hangs on each little flower? + Oh! it is Beauty. + + What melts the soldier's soul? + 'Tis Beauty; + What can his love of fame control? + 'Tis Beauty; + For oft, amid the battle's rage, + Some lovely vision will engage + His thoughts and war's rough ills assuage: + Such power has Beauty. + + What tames the savage mood? + 'Tis Beauty; + What gives a polish to the rude? + 'Tis Beauty; + What gives the peasant's lowly state + A charm which wealth cannot create, + And on the good alone will wait? + 'Tis faithful Beauty. + + Then let our favourite toast + Be Beauty; + Is it not king and peasant's boast? + Yes, Beauty; + Then let us guard with tender care + The gentle, th' inspiring fair, + And Love will a diviner air + Impart to Beauty. + + + + +TO THE EVENING STAR. + + + Star of descending Night! + Lovely and fair, + Robed in thy mellow light, + Subtle and rare; + Whence are thy silvery beams, + That o'er lone ocean gleams, + And in our crystal streams + Dip their bright hair? + + Far in yon liquid sky, + Where streamers play + And the red lightnings fly, + Hold'st thou thy way; + Clouds may envelop thee, + Winds rave o'er land and sea, + O'er them thy march is free + As thine own ray. + + + + +OH! WAFT ME TO THE FAIRY CLIME. + + + Oh! waft me to the fairy clime + Where Fancy loves to roam, + Where Hope is ever in her prime, + And Friendship has a home; + There will I wander by the streams + Where Song and Dance combine, + Around my rosy waking dreams + Ecstatic joys to twine. + + On Music's swell my thoughts will soar + Above created things, + And revel on the boundless shore + Of rapt imaginings. + The rolling spheres beyond earth's ken + My fancy will explore, + And seek, far from the haunts of men, + The Poet's mystic lore. + + Love will add gladness to the scene, + And strew my path with flowers; + And Joy with Innocence will lean + Amid my rosy bowers. + Then waft me to the fairy clime + Where Fancy loves to roam, + Where Hope is ever in her prime, + And Friendship has a home. + + + + +THE LOVE-SICK MAID. + + + The love-sick maid, the love-sick maid, + Ah! who will comfort bring to the love-sick maid? + Can the doctor cure her woe + When she will not let him know + Why the tears incessant flow + From the love-sick maid? + + The flaunting day, the flaunting day, + She cannot bear the glare of the flaunting day! + For she sits and pines alone, + And will comfort take from none; + Nay, the very colour's gone + From the love-sick maid. + + The secret 's out, the secret 's out, + A doctor has been found, and the secret 's out! + For she finds at e'ening's hour, + In a rosy woodland bower, + Charms worth a prince's dower + To a love-sick maid. + + + + +ALEXANDER JAMIESON. + + +Alexander Jamieson was born in the village of Dalmellington, Ayrshire, +on the 29th January 1789. After a course of study at the University of +Edinburgh, he obtained licence as a medical practitioner. In 1819, he +settled as a surgeon and apothecary in the town of Alloa. A skilful +mechanician, he constructed a small printing-press for his own use; he +was likewise ardently devoted to the study of botany. He composed verses +with remarkable facility, many of which he contributed to the _Stirling +Journal_ newspaper. His death was peculiarly melancholy: he had formed +one of a pic-nic party, on a fine summer day, to the summit of +Bencleugh, one of the Ochils, and descending by a shorter route to visit +a patient at Tillicoultry, he missed his footing, and was precipitated +about two hundred feet into one of the ravines. He was early next +morning discovered by a shepherd, but only survived a few hours +afterwards. His death took place on the 26th July 1826. Possessed of +varied talents, and excellent dispositions, Jamieson was deeply +regretted by his friends. He left a widow, who died lately in +Dunfermline. His songs, of which two specimens are adduced, afford +evidence of power. + + + + +THE MAID WHO WOVE.[11] + +_"Russian Air."_ + + + The maid who wove the rosy wreath + With every flower--hath wrought a spell, + And though her chaplets fragrance breathe + And balmy sweets--I know full well, + 'Neath every bud, or blossom gay, + There lurks a chain--Love's tyranny. + + Though round her ruby lips, enshrin'd, + Sits stillness, soft as evening skies-- + Though crimson'd cheek you seldom find, + Or glances from her downcast eyes-- + There lurks, unseen, a world of charms, + Which ne'er betray young Love's alarms. + + O trust not to her silent tongue; + Her settled calm, or absent smile; + Nor dream that nymph, so fair and young, + May not enchain in Love's soft guile; + For where Love is--or what's Love's spell-- + No mortal knows--no tongue can tell. + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[11] This song was addressed by Mr Jamieson to Miss Jane Morrison of +Alloa, the heroine of Motherwell's popular ballad of "Jeanie Morrison," +and who had thus the singular good fortune to be celebrated by two +different poets. For some account of Miss Morrison, now Mrs Murdoch, see +vol. iii. p. 233. + + + + +A SIGH AND A SMILE. + +WELSH AIR--_"Sir William Watkin Wynne."_ + + + From Beauty's soft lip, like the balm of its roses, + Or breath of the morning, a sigh took its flight; + Nor far had it stray'd forth, when Pity proposes + The wanderer should lodge in this bosom a night. + + But scarce had the guest, in that peaceful seclusion, + His lodging secured, when a conflict arose, + Each feeling was changed, every thought was delusion, + Nor longer my breast knew the calm of repose. + + They say that young Love is a rosy-cheek'd bowyer, + At random the shafts from his silken string fly, + But surely the urchin of peace is destroyer, + Whose arrows are dipp'd in the balm of a sigh. + + O yes! for he whisper'd, "To Beauty's shrine hie thee; + There worship to Cupid, and wait yet awhile; + A cure she can give, with the balm can supply thee, + The wound from a sigh can be cured by a smile." + + + + +JOHN GOLDIE. + + +A short-lived poet and song-writer of some promise, John Goldie was born +at Ayr on the 22d December 1798. His father, who bore the same Christian +name, was a respectable shipmaster. Obtaining an ample education at the +academy of his native town, he became, in his fifteenth year, assistant +to a grocer in Paisley; he subsequently held a similar situation in a +stoneware and china shop in Glasgow. In 1821 he opened, on his own +account, a stoneware establishment at Ayr; but proving unfortunate in +business, he abandoned the concerns of trade. From his boyhood being +devoted to literature he now resolved on its cultivation as a means of +support. Already known as an occasional contributor, both in prose and +verse, to the public press, he received the appointment of assistant +editor of the _Ayr Courier_, and shortly after obtained the entire +literary superintendence of that journal. In 1821, he published a +pamphlet of respectable verses; and in the following year appeared as +the author of a duodecimo volume of "Poems and Songs," which he +inscribed to the Ettrick Shepherd. Of the compositions in the latter +publication, the greater portion, he intimates in the preface, "were +composed at an early age, chiefly betwixt the years of sixteen and +twenty;" and as the production of a very young man, the volume is +altogether creditable to his genius and taste. + +Deprived of the editorship of the _Courier_, in consequence of a change +in the proprietary, Goldie proceeded to London, in the hope of forming +a connexion with some of the leading newspapers in the metropolis. +Unsuccessful in this effort, he formed the project of publishing _The +London Scotsman_, a newspaper to be chiefly devoted to the consideration +of Scottish affairs. Lacking that encouragement necessary to the +ultimate success of this adventure, he abandoned the scheme after the +third publication, and in very reduced circumstances returned to +Scotland. He now projected the _Paisley Advertiser_, of which the first +number appeared on the 9th October 1824. The editorship of this +newspaper he retained till his death, which took place suddenly on the +27th February 1826, in his twenty-eighth year. + +Of a vigorous intellect, and possessed of a correct literary taste, +Goldie afforded excellent promise of eminence as a journalist. As a poet +and song-writer, a rich vein of humour pervades certain of his +compositions, while others are marked by a plaintive tenderness. Of +sociable and generous dispositions, he was much esteemed by a circle of +admiring friends. His personal appearance was pleasing, and his +countenance wore the aspect of intelligence. + + + + +AND CAN THY BOSOM? + +AIR--_"Loudon's Bonnie Woods and Braes."_ + + + And can thy bosom bear the thought + To part frae love and me, laddie? + Are all those plighted vows forgot, + Sae fondly pledged by thee, laddie? + Canst thou forget the midnight hour, + When in yon love-inspiring bower, + You vow'd by every heavenly power + You'd ne'er lo'e ane but me, laddie? + Wilt thou--wilt thou gang and leave me-- + Win my heart and then deceive me? + Oh! that heart will break, believe me, + Gin' ye part wi' me, laddie. + + Aft ha'e ye roos'd my rosy cheek, + Aft praised my sparkling e'e, laddie, + Aft said nae bliss on earth ye'd seek, + But love and live wi' me, laddie. + But soon those cheeks will lose their red, + Those eyes in endless sleep be hid, + And 'neath the turf the heart be laid + That beats for love and thee, laddie. + Wilt thou--wilt thou gang and leave me-- + Win my heart and then deceive me? + Oh! that heart will break, believe me, + Gin ye part frae me, laddie. + + You'll meet a form mair sweet and fair, + Where rarer beauties shine, laddie, + But, oh! the heart can never bear + A love sae true as mine, laddie. + But when that heart is laid at rest-- + That heart that lo'ed ye last and best-- + Oh! then the pangs that rend thy breast + Will sharper be than mine, laddie. + Broken vows will vex and grieve me, + Till a broken heart relieve me-- + Yet its latest thought, believe me, + Will be love an' thine, laddie. + + + + +SWEET'S THE DEW. + + + Sweet's the dew-deck'd rose in June + And lily fair to see, Annie, + But there's ne'er a flower that blooms + Is half so fair as thee, Annie. + Beside those blooming cheeks o' thine + The opening rose its beauties tine, + Thy lips the rubies far outshine, + Love sparkles in thine e'e, Annie. + + The snaw that decks yon mountain top + Nae purer is than thee, Annie; + The haughty mien and pridefu' look + Are banish'd far frae thee, Annie. + And in thy sweet angelic face + Triumphant beams each modest grace; + And ne'er did Grecian chisel trace + A form sae bright as thine, Annie. + + Wha could behold thy rosy cheek + And no feel love's sharp pang, Annie; + What heart could view thy smiling looks, + And plot to do thee wrang, Annie? + Thy name in ilka sang I'll weave, + My heart, my soul, wi' thee I'll leave, + And never, till I cease to breathe, + I'll cease to think on thee, Annie. + + + + +ROBERT POLLOK. + + +Robert Pollok, author of the immortal poem, "The Course of Time," was +the son of a small farmer in the parish of Eaglesham, Renfrewshire, +where he was born on the 19th October 1798. With a short interval of +employment in the workshop of a cabinetmaker, he was engaged till his +seventeenth year in services about his father's farm. Resolving to +prepare for the ministry in the Secession Church, he took lessons in +classical learning at the parish school of Fenwick, Ayrshire, and in +twelve months fitted himself for the university. He attended the +literary and philosophical classes in Glasgow College, during five +sessions, and subsequently studied in the Divinity Hall of the United +Secession Church. He wrote verses in his boyhood, in his eighteenth year +composed a poetical essay, and afterwards produced respectable +translations from the Classics as college exercises. His great poem, +"The Course of Time," was commenced in December 1824, and finished +within the space of nineteen months. On the 24th March 1827, the poem +was published by Mr Blackwood; and on the 2d of the following May the +author received his license as a probationer. The extraordinary success +of his poem had excited strong anticipations in respect of his +professional career, but these were destined to disappointment. Pollok +only preached four times. His constitution, originally robust, had +suffered from over exertion in boyhood, and more recently from a course +of sedulous application in preparing for license, and in the production +of his poem. To recruit his wasted strength, a change of climate was +necessary, and that of Italy was recommended. The afflicted poet only +reached Southampton, where he died a few weeks after his arrival, on the +18th September 1827. In Millbrook churchyard, near Southampton, where +his remains were interred, a monument has been erected to his memory. + +Besides his remarkable poem, Pollok published three short tales relative +to the sufferings of the Covenanters. He had projected a large work +respecting the influences which Christianity had exercised upon +literature. Since his death, several short poetical pieces from his pen +have, along with a memoir, been published by his brother. In person he +was of the ordinary height, and of symmetrical form. His complexion was +pale brown; his features small, and his eyes dark and piercing. "He +was," writes Mr Gabriel Neil, who enjoyed his friendship, "of plain +simple manners, with a well-cultivated mind; he loved debate, and took +pleasure in good-humoured controversy." The copyright of "The Course of +Time" continues to produce emolument to the family. + + + + +THE AFRICAN MAID. + + + On the fierce savage cliffs that look down on the flood, + Where to ocean the dark waves of Gabia haste, + All lonely, a maid of black Africa stood, + Gazing sad on the deep and the wide roaring waste. + + A bark for Columbia hung far on the tide, + And still to that bark her dim wistful eye clave; + Ah! well might she gaze--in the ship's hollow side, + Moan'd her Zoopah in chains--in the chains of a slave. + + Like the statue of Sorrow, forgetting to weep, + Long dimly she follow'd the vanishing sail, + Till it melted away where clouds mantle the deep; + Then thus o'er the billows she utter'd her wail:-- + + "O my Zoopah come back! wilt thou leave me to woe? + Come back, cruel ship, and take Monia too! + Ah ye winds, wicked winds! what fiend bids ye blow + To waft my dear Zoopah far, far from my view? + + * * * * * + + "Great Spirit! why slumber'd the wrath of thy clouds, + When the savage white men dragg'd my Zoopah away? + Why linger'd the panther far back in his woods? + Was the crocodile full of the flesh of his prey? + + "Ah cruel white monsters! plague poison their breath, + And sleep never visit the place of their bed! + On their children and wives, on their life and their death, + Abide still the curse of an African maid!" + + + + +J. C. DENOVAN. + + +J. C. Denovan was born at Edinburgh in 1798. Early evincing a +predilection for a seafaring life, he was enabled to enter a sloop of +war, with the honorary rank of a midshipman. After accomplishing a +single voyage, he was necessitated, by the death of his father, to +abandon his nautical occupation, and to seek a livelihood in Edinburgh. +He now became, in his sixteenth year, apprentice to a grocer; and he +subsequently established himself as a coffee-roaster in the capital. He +died in 1827. Of amiable dispositions, he was an agreeable and +unassuming member of society. He courted the Muse to interest his hours +of leisure, and his poetical aspirations received the encouragement of +Sir Walter Scott and other men of letters. + + + + +OH DERMOT, DEAR LOVED ONE! + + + Thou hast left me, dear Dermot! to cross the wide seas, + And thy Norah lives grieving in sadness forlorn, + She laments and looks back on the past happy days + When thy presence had left her no object to mourn + Those days that are past, + Too joyous to last, + A pang leaves behind them, 'tis Heaven's decree; + No joy now is mine, + In sadness I pine, + Till Dermot, dear Dermot, returns back to me. + + O Dermot, dear Dermot! why, why didst thou leave + The girl who holds thee so dear in her heart? + Oh! couldst thou hold a thought that would cause her to grieve, + Or think for one moment from Norah to part? + Couldst thou reconcile + To leave this dear isle, + In a far unknown country, where dangers there be? + Oh! for thy dear sake + This poor heart will break, + If thou, dear beloved one, return not to me. + + In silence I 'll weep till my Dermot doth come, + Alone will I wander by moon, noon, and night, + Still praying of Heaven to send him safe home + To her who 'll embrace him with joy and delight. + Then come, like a dove, + To thy faithful love, + Whose heart will entwine thee, fond, joyous, and free; + From danger's alarms + Speed to her open arms, + O Dermot, dear loved one! return back to me. + + + + +JOHN IMLAH. + + +John Imlah, one of the sweetest and most patriotic of Scottish +song-writers, was born in North Street, Aberdeen, about the close of the +year 1799. His progenitors were farmers in the parish of Fyvie, but his +father followed the profession of an innkeeper. Of seven sons, born in +succession to his parents, the poet was the youngest. On completing an +ordinary education at the grammar-school, he was apprenticed to a +pianoforte maker in Aberdeen. Excelling as a piano-tuner he, in this +capacity, sought employment in London, and was fortunate in procuring an +engagement from the Messrs Broadwood. For the first six months of the +year he performed the duties of a tuner in the metropolis, and during +the remaining six months prosecuted his vocation in Scotland. Attached +to his native country, he took delight in celebrating her strains. He +composed songs from his boyhood. In 1827, he published "May Flowers," a +duodecimo volume of lyrics, chiefly in the Scottish dialect, which he +followed by a second volume of "Poems and Songs" in 1841. He contributed +to Macleod's "National Melodies" and the _Edinburgh Literary Journal_. +On the 9th January 1846, his death took place at Jamaica, whither he had +gone on a visit to one of his brothers. + +Imlah was a person of amiable dispositions and agreeable manners. Of his +numerous lyrics, each is distinguished by a rich fancy, and several of +his songs will maintain a lasting place in the national minstrelsy. + + + + +KATHLEEN. + +AIR--_"The Humours of Glen."_ + + + O distant but dear is that sweet island, wherein + My hopes with my Kathleen and kindred abide; + And far though I wander from thee, emerald Erin! + No space can the links of my love-chain divide. + Fairest spot of the earth! brightest gem of the ocean! + How oft have I waken'd my wild harp in thee! + While, with eye of expression, and heart of emotion, + Listen'd, Kathleen mavourneen, cuishlih ma chree! + + The bloom of the moss-rose, the blush of the morning, + The soft cheek of Kathleen discloses their dye; + What ruby can rival the lip of mavourneen? + What sight-dazzling diamond can equal her eye? + Her silken hair vies with the sunbeam in brightness, + And white is her brow as the surf of the sea; + Thy footstep is like to the fairy's in lightness, + Of Kathleen mavourneen, cuishlih ma chree! + + Fair muse of the minstrel! beloved of my bosom! + As the song of thy praise and my passion I breathed, + Thy fair fingers oft, with the triad leaf'd blossom, + Sweet Erin's green emblem, my wild harp have wreathed; + While with soft melting murmurs the bright river ran on, + That by thy bower follows the sun to the sea; + And oh! soon dawn the day I review the sweet Shannon + And Kathleen mavourneen, cuishlih ma chree! + + + + +HIELAN' HEATHER. + +AIR--_"O'er the Muir amang the Heather."_ + + + Hey for the Hielan' heather! + Hey for the Hielan' heather! + Dear to me, an' aye shall be, + The bonnie braes o' Hielan' heather! + + The moss-muir black an' mountain blue, + Whare mists at morn an' gloamin' gather; + The craigs an' cairns o' hoary hue, + Whare blooms the bonnie Hielan' heather! + Hey for the Hielan' heather! + + Whare monie a wild bird wags its wing, + Baith sweet o' sang an' fair o' feather; + While cavern'd cliffs wi' echo ring, + Amang the hills o' Hielan' heather! + Hey for the Hielan' heather! + + Whare, light o' heart an' light o' heel, + Young lads and lasses trip thegither; + The native Norlan rant and reel + Amang the halesome Hielan' heather! + Hey for the Hielan' heather! + + The broom an' whin, by loch an' lin, + Are tipp'd wi' gowd in simmer weather; + How sweet an' fair! but meikle mair + The purple bells o' Hielan' heather! + Hey for the Hielan' heather! + + Whare'er I rest, whare'er I range, + My fancy fondly travels thither; + Nae countrie charms, nae customs change + My feelings frae the Hielan' heather! + Hey, for the Hielan' heather! + + + + +FAREWELL TO SCOTLAND. + +AIR--_"Kinloch."_ + + + Loved land of my kindred, farewell--and for ever! + Oh! what can relief to the bosom impart; + When fated with each fond endearment to sever, + And hope its sweet sunshine withholds from the heart! + Farewell, thou fair land! which, till life's pulse shall perish, + Though doom'd to forego, I shall never forget, + Wherever I wander, for thee will I cherish + The dearest regard and the deepest regret. + + Farewell, ye great Grampians, cloud-robed and crested! + Like your mists in the sunbeam ye melt in my sight; + Your peaks are the king-eagle's thrones--where have rested + The snow-falls of ages--eternally white. + Ah! never again shall the falls of your fountains + Their wild murmur'd music awake on mine ear; + No more the lake's lustre, that mirrors your mountains, + I'll pore on with pleasure--deep, lonely, yet dear. + + Yet--yet Caledonia! when slumber comes o'er me, + Oh! oft will I dream of thee, far, far, away; + But vain are the visions that rapture restore me, + To waken and weep at the dawn of the day. + Ere gone the last glimpse, faint and far o'er the ocean, + Where yet my heart dwells--where it ever shall dwell, + While tongue, sigh and tear, speak my spirit's emotion, + My country--my kindred--farewell, oh farewell! + + + + +THE ROSE OF SEATON VALE. + + + A bonnie Rose bloom'd wild and fair, + As sweet a bud I trow + As ever breathed the morning air, + Or drank the evening dew. + A Zephyr loved the blushing flower, + With sigh and fond love tale; + It woo'd within its briery bower + The rose of Seaton Vale. + + With wakening kiss the Zephyr press'd + This bud at morning light; + At noon it fann'd its glowing breast, + And nestled there at night. + But other flowers sprung up thereby, + And lured the roving gale; + The Zephyr left to droop and die + The Rose of Seaton Vale. + + A matchless maiden dwelt by Don, + Loved by as fair a youth; + Long had their young hearts throbb'd as one + Wi' tenderness and truth. + Thy warmest tear, soft Pity, pour-- + For Ellen's type and tale + Are in that sweet, ill-fated flower, + The Rose of Seaton Vale. + + + + +KATHERINE AND DONALD. + + + Young Donald dearer loved than life + The proud Dunallan's daughter; + But, barr'd by feudal hate and strife, + In vain he loved and sought her. + She loved the Lord of Garry's glen, + The chieftain of Clanronald; + A thousand plaided Highlandmen + Clasp'd the claymore for Donald. + + On Scotland rush'd the Danish hordes, + Dunallan met his foemen; + Beneath him bared ten thousand swords + Of vassal, serf, and yeomen. + The fray was fierce--and at its height + Was seen a visor'd stranger, + With red lance foremost in the fight, + Unfearing Dane and danger. + + "Be praised--brave knight! thy steel hath striven + The sharpest in the slaughter; + Crave what thou wilt of me--though even + My fair--my darling daughter!" + He lifts the visor from his face-- + The chieftain of Clanronald! + And foes enclasp in friends' embrace, + Dunallan and young Donald. + + Dunallan's halls ring loud with glee-- + The feast-cup glads Glengarry; + The joy that should for ever be + When mutual lovers marry. + The shout and shell the revellers raise, + Dunallan and Clanronald; + And minstrel measures pour to praise + Fair Kath'rine and brave Donald! + + + + +GUID NIGHT, AN' JOY BE WI' YOU A'. + + + Guid night, and joy be wi' you a'! + Since it is sae that I maun gang; + Short seem'd the gate to come, but ah! + To gang again as wearie lang. + Sic joyous nights come nae sae thrang + That I sae sune sou'd haste awa'; + But since it's sae that I maun gae, + Guid night, and joy be wi' ye a'! + + This night I ween we've had the heart + To gar auld Time tak' to his feet; + That makes us a' fu' laith to part, + But aye mair fain again to meet! + To dree the winter's drift and weet + For sic a night is nocht ava, + For hours the sweetest o' the sweet; + Guid night, an' joy be wi' you a'! + + Our bald-pow'd daddies here we've seen, + In younker revels fidgin' fain; + Our gray-hair'd grannies here hae been, + Like daffin hizzies, young again! + To mony a merrie auld Scot's strain + We've deftly danced the time awa': + We met in mirth--we part wi' pain, + Guid night, an' joy be wi' you a'! + + My nimble gray neighs at the yett, + My shouthers roun' the plaid I throw; + I've clapt the spur upon my buit, + The guid braid bonnet on my brow! + Then night is wearing late I trow-- + My hame lies mony a mile awa'; + The mair's my need to mount and go, + Guid night, an' joy be wi' you a'! + + + + +THE GATHERING.[12] + + + Rise, rise! Lowland and Highlandman, + Bald sire to beardless son, each come and early; + Rise, rise! mainland and islandmen, + Belt on your broad claymores--fight for Prince Charlie; + Down from the mountain steep, + Up from the valley deep, + Out from the clachan, the bothie, and shieling, + Bugle and battle-drum + Bid chief and vassal come, + Bravely our bagpipes the pibroch is pealing. + + Men of the mountains--descendants of heroes! + Heirs of the fame as the hills of your fathers; + Say, shall the Southern--the Sassenach fear us + When to the war-peal each plaided clan gathers? + Too long on the trophied walls + Of your ancestral halls, + Red rust hath blunted the armour of Albin; + Seize then, ye mountain Macs, + Buckler and battle-axe, + Lads of Lochaber, Braemar, and Breadalbin! + + When hath the tartan plaid mantled a coward? + When did the blue bonnet crest the disloyal? + Up, then, and crowd to the standard of Stuart, + Follow your leader--the rightful--the royal! + Chief of Clanronald, + Donald Macdonald! + Lovat! Lochiel! with the Grant and the Gordon! + Rouse every kilted clan, + Rouse every loyal man, + Gun on the shoulder, and thigh the good sword on! + +FOOTNOTES: + +[12] A MS. copy of this song had been sent by the author to the Ettrick +Shepherd. Having been found among the Shepherd's papers after his +decease, it was regarded as his own composition, and has consequently +been included in the posthumous edition of his songs, published by the +Messrs Blackie. The song appears in Imlah's "May Flowers," published in +1827. + + + + +MARY. + +AIR--_"The Dawtie."_ + + There lives a young lassie + Far down yon lang glen, + How I lo'e that lassie + There's nae ane can ken! + Oh! a saint's faith may vary, + But faithfu' I'll be-- + For weel I lo'e Mary, + And Mary lo'es me. + + Red, red as the rowan + Her smiling wee mou, + An' white as the gowan + Her breast and her brow; + Wi' the foot o' a fairy + She links o'er the lea-- + Oh! weel I lo'e Mary, + An' Mary lo'es me. + + Where yon tall forest timmer, + An' lowly broom bower, + To the sunshine o' simmer, + Spread verdure an' flower; + There, when night clouds the cary, + Beside her I'll be-- + For weel I lo'e Mary, + An' Mary lo'es me! + + + + +OH! GIN I WERE WHERE GADIE RINS.[13] + + + Oh! gin I were where Gadie rins, + Where Gadie rins, where Gadie rins-- + Oh, gin I were where Gadie rins + By the foot o' Bennachie. + + I've roam'd by Tweed, I've roam'd by Tay, + By Border Nith, and Highland Spey, + But dearer far to me than they + The braes o' Bennachie. + + When blade and blossoms sprout in spring, + And bid the burdies wag the wing, + They blithely bob, and soar, and sing + By the foot o' Bennachie. + + When simmer cleeds the varied scene + Wi' licht o' gowd and leaves o' green, + I fain would be where aft I've been + At the foot o' Bennachie. + + When autumn's yellow sheaf is shorn, + And barn-yards stored wi' stooks o' corn, + 'Tis blithe to toom the clyack horn + At the foot o' Bennachie. + + When winter winds blaw sharp and shrill + O'er icy burn and sheeted hill, + The ingle neuk is gleesome still + At the foot o' Bennachie. + + Though few to welcome me remain, + Though a' I loved be dead and gane, + I'll back, though I should live alane, + To the foot o' Bennachie. + + Oh, gin I were where Gadie rins, + Where Gadie rins, where Gadie rins-- + Oh, gin I were where Gadie rins + By the foot o' Bennachie. + +FOOTNOTES: + +[13] The chorus of this song, which is said to have been originally +connected with a plaintive Jacobite ditty, now lost, has suggested +several modern songs similar in manner and sentiment. Imlah composed two +songs with this chorus. The earlier of these compositions appears in the +"May Flowers." It is evidently founded upon a rumour, which prevailed in +Aberdeenshire during the first quarter of the century, to the effect, +that a Scottish officer, serving in Egypt, had been much affected on +hearing a soldier's wife _crooning_ to herself the original words of the +air. We have inserted in the text Imlah's second version, as being +somewhat smoother in versification. It is the only song which we have +transcribed from his volume, published in 1841. But the most popular +words which have been attached to the air and chorus were the +composition of a student in one of the colleges of Aberdeen, nearly +thirty years since, who is now an able and accomplished clergyman of the +Scottish Church. Having received the chorus and heard the air from a +comrade, he immediately composed the following verses, here printed from +the author's MS.:-- + + Oh, an' I were where Gadie rins, + Where Gadie rins, where Gadie rins, + Oh, an' I were where Gadie rins, + At the back o' Bennachie! + + I wish I were where Gadie rins, + 'Mong fragrant heath and yellow whins, + Or, brawlin' doun the bosky lins + At the back o' Bennachie; + + To hear ance mair the blackbird's sang, + To wander birks and braes amang, + Wi' friens and fav'rites, left sae lang, + At the back o' Bennachie. + + How mony a day, in blithe spring-time, + How mony a day, in summer's prime, + I wil'd awa' my careless time + On the heights o' Bennachie. + + Ah! Fortune's flowers wi' thorns are rife, + And walth is won wi' grief and strife-- + Ae day gie me o' youthfu' life + At the back o' Bennachie. + + Oh, Mary! there, on ilka nicht, + When baith our hearts were young and licht, + We've wander'd whan the moon was bricht + Wi' speeches fond and free. + + Oh! ance, ance mair where Gadie rins, + Where Gadie rins, where Gadie rins-- + Oh! micht I dee where Gadie rins + At the back o' Bennachie. + +"The air," communicates the reverend author of this song, "is +undoubtedly old, from its resemblance to several Gaelic and Irish airs. +'Cuir's chiste moir me,' and several others, might be thought to have +been originally the same _in the first part_. The second part of the air +is, I think, modern." The Gadie is a rivulet, and Bennachie a mountain, +in Aberdeenshire. + + + + +JOHN TWEEDIE. + + +John Tweedie was born in the year 1800, in the vicinity of Peebles, +where his father was a shepherd. Obtaining a classical education, he +proceeded to the University of Edinburgh, to prosecute his studies for +the Established Church. By acting as a tutor during the summer months, +he was enabled to support himself at the university, and after the usual +curriculum, he was licensed as a probationer. Though possessed of +popular talents as a preacher, he was not successful in obtaining a +living in the Church. During his probationary career, he was employed as +a tutor in the family of the minister of Newbattle, assisted in the +parish of Eddleston, and ultimately became missionary at Stockbridge, +Edinburgh. He died at Linkfieldhall, Musselburgh, on the 29th February +1844. Tweedie was a person of amiable dispositions and unaffected piety; +he did not much cultivate his gifts as a poet, but the following song +from his pen, to the old air, "Saw ye my Maggie," has received a +considerable measure of popularity.[14] + +FOOTNOTES: + +[14] In the "Cottagers of Glendale," Mr H. S. Riddell alludes to two of +Tweedie's brothers, who perished among the snow in the manner described +in that poem. The present memoir is prepared from materials chiefly +supplied by Mr Riddell. + + + + +SAW YE MY ANNIE? + + + Saw ye my Annie, + Saw ye my Annie, + Saw ye my Annie, + Wading 'mang the dew? + My Annie walks as light + As shadow in the night + Or downy cloudlet light + Alang the fields o' blue. + + What like is your Annie, + What like is your Annie, + What like is your Annie, + That we may ken her be? + She's fair as nature's flush, + Blithe as dawning's blush, + And gentle as the hush + When e'ening faulds her e'e. + + Yonder comes my Annie, + Yonder comes my Annie, + Yonder comes my Annie, + Bounding o'er the lea. + Lammies play before her, + Birdies whistle o'er her, + I mysell adore her, + In heavenly ecstasy. + + Come to my arms, my Annie, + Come to my arms, my Annie, + Come to my arms, my Annie, + Speed, speed, like winged day. + My Annie's rosy cheek + Smiled fair as morning's streak, + We felt, but couldna speak, + 'Neath love's enraptured sway. + + + + +THOMAS ATKINSON. + + +Thomas Atkinson, a respectable writer of prose and verse, was born at +Glasgow about the year 1800. Having completed an apprenticeship to Mr +Turnbull, bookseller, Trongate, he entered into copartnership with Mr +David Robertson, subsequently King's publisher in the city. Of active +business habits, he conducted, along with his partner, an extensive +bookselling trade, yet found leisure for the pursuits of elegant +literature. At an early age he published "The Sextuple Alliance," a +series of poems on the subject of Napoleon Bonaparte, which afforded +considerable promise, and received the commendation of Sir Walter Scott. +In 1827, he published "The Ant," a work in two volumes, one of which +consists of entirely original, and the other of selected matter. "The +Chameleon," a publication of the nature of an annual, commenced in 1831, +and extended to three octavo volumes. Of this work, a _melange_ of prose +and poetry, the contents for the greater part were of his own +composition. The last volume appeared in September 1833, shortly before +his death. + +Deeply interested in the public affairs, Atkinson was distinguished as a +public speaker. At the general election, subsequent to the passing of +the Reform Bill, he was invited to become a candidate in the liberal +interest for the parliamentary representation of the Stirling burghs, in +opposition to Lord Dalmeny, who was returned. Naturally of a sound +constitution, the exertions of his political canvass superinduced an +illness, which terminated in pulmonary consumption. During a voyage he +had undertaken to Barbadoes for the recovery of his health, he died at +sea on the 10th October 1833. His remains, placed in an oaken coffin, +which he had taken along with him, were buried in the deep. He +bequeathed a sum, to be applied, after accumulation, in erecting a +building in Glasgow for scientific purposes. A monument to his memory +has been erected in the Glasgow Necropolis. The following stanzas were +composed by the dying poet at the outset of his voyage, and less than +three weeks prior to his decease; they are dated the "River Mersey," +21st September 1833:-- + + I could not, as I gazed my last--there was on me a spell, + In all its simple agony--breathe that lone word--"Farewell," + Which hath no hope that clings to it, the closer as it dies, + In song alone 'twould pass the lips that loved the dear disguise. + + I go across a bluer wave than now girds round my bark, + As forth the dove went trembling--but to my Father's ark + Shall I return? I may not ask my doubting heart, but yet + To hope and wish in one--how hard the lesson to forget. + + * * * * * + + But drooping head and feeble limbs--and, oh! a beating heart, + Remind the vow'd to sing no more of all his weary part; + Yet, with a voice that trembles as the sounds unloose the spell, + In this, his last and rudest lay, he now can breathe--"Farewell." + +In the "Chameleon" several of Mr Atkinson's songs are set to music, but, +with the exception of "Mary Shearer," none of them are likely to obtain +popularity. + + + + +MARY SHEARER. + + + She's aff and awa', like the lang summer-day, + And our hearts and our hills are now lanesome and dreary; + The sun-blinks o' June will come back ower the brae, + But lang for blithe Mary fu' mony may weary. + For mair hearts than mine + Kenn'd o' nane that were dearer; + But nane mair will pine + For the sweet Mary Shearer! + + She cam' wi' the spring, just like ane o' its flowers, + And the blue-bell and Mary baith blossom'd thegither; + The bloom o' the mountain again will be ours, + But the rose o' the valley nae mair will come hither. + Their sweet breath is fled-- + Her kind looks still endear her; + For the heart maun be dead + That forgets Mary Shearer! + + Than her brow ne'er a fairer wi' jewels was hung; + An e'e that was brighter ne'er glanced on a lover; + Sounds safter ne'er dropt frae an aye-saying tongue, + Nor mair pure is the white o' her bridal-bed cover. + Oh! he maun be bless'd + Wha's allow'd to be near her; + For the fairest and best + O' her kind 's Mary Shearer! + + But farewell Glenlin, and Dunoon, and Loch Striven, + My country and kin,--since I 've sae lov'd the stranger; + Whare she 's been maun be either a pine or a heaven-- + Sae across the braid warld for a while I'm a ranger. + Though I try to forget, + In my heart still I 'll wear her, + For mine may be yet-- + Name and a'--Mary Shearer! + + + + +WILLIAM GARDINER. + + +William Gardiner, the author of "Scotland's Hills," was born at Perth +about the year 1800. He established himself as a bookseller in +Cupar-Fife. During a period of residence in Dundee, in acquiring a +knowledge of his trade, he formed the acquaintance of the poet Vedder. +With the assistance of this gifted individual, he composed his popular +song of "Scotland's Hills." Introduced at a theatre in Dundee, it was +received with marked approbation. It was first printed, in January 1829, +in the _Fife Herald_ newspaper, with a humorous preface by Vedder, and +was afterwards copied into the _Edinburgh Literary Gazette_. It has +since found a place in many of the collections of Scottish song, and has +three different times been set to music. + +Gardiner was unfortunate as a bookseller, and ultimately obtained +employment in the publishing office of the _Fife Herald_. He died at +Perth on the 4th July 1845. Some years before his death, he published a +volume of original and selected compositions, under the title of +"Gardiner's Miscellany." He was a person of amiable dispositions; and to +other good qualities of a personal character, added considerable skill +in music. + + + + +O SCOTLAND'S HILLS FOR ME![15] + + + O these are not my country's hills, + Though they seem bright and fair; + Though flow'rets deck their verdant sides, + The heather blooms not there. + Let me behold the mountain steep, + And wild deer roaming free-- + The heathy glen, the ravine deep-- + O Scotland's hills for me! + + The rose, through all this garden-land, + May shed its rich perfume, + But I would rather wander 'mong + My country's bonnie broom. + There sings the shepherd on the hill, + The ploughman on the lea; + There lives my blithesome mountain maid, + O Scotland's hills for me! + + The throstle and the nightingale + May warble sweeter strains + Than thrills at lovely gloaming hour + O'er Scotland's daisied plains; + Give me the merle's mellow note, + The linnet's liquid lay; + The laverocks on the roseate cloud-- + O Scotland's hills for me! + + And I would rather roam beneath + Thy scowling winter skies, + Than listlessly attune my lyre + Where sun-bright flowers arise. + The baron's hall, the peasant's cot + Protect alike the free; + The tyrant dies who breathes thine air; + O Scotland's hills for me! + +FOOTNOTES: + +[15] At the request of one Roger, a music-master in Edinburgh, who had +obtained a copy of the first two stanzas, a third was added by Mr Robert +Chambers, and in this form the song appears in some of the collections. +Mr Chambers's stanza proceeds thus:-- + + In southern climes the radiant sun + A brighter light displays; + But I love best his milder beams + That shine on Scotland's braes. + Then dear, romantic native land + If e'er I roam from thee, + I'll ne'er forget the cheering lay; + O Scotland's hills for me! + + + + + +ROBERT HOGG. + + +Robert Hogg was born in the parish of Stobo, about the close of the +century. His father was William Hogg, eldest brother of the Ettrick +Shepherd. William Hogg was also a shepherd, a sensible, well-conducted +man, and possessed of considerable literary talent. Receiving a +classical education at the grammar-school of Peebles, Robert proceeded +to the University of Edinburgh, with the intention of studying for the +Church. Abandoning his original views, he became corrector of the press, +or reader in the printing-office of Messrs Ballantyne. John Wilson, the +future vocalist, was his yoke-fellow in office. His official duties were +arduous, but he contrived to find leisure for contributing, both in +prose and verse, to the periodicals. His literary talents attracted the +favourable notice of Mr J. G. Lockhart, who, on being appointed, in +1825, to conduct the _Quarterly Review_, secured his services as +secretary or literary assistant. He therefore proceeded to London, but +as it was found there was not sufficient occasion for his services in +his new appointment, he returned in a few months to the duties of his +former situation. For a short period he acted as amanuensis to Sir +Walter Scott, while the "Life of Napoleon" was in progress. According to +his own account,[16] this must have been no relief from his ordinary +toils, for Sir Walter was at his task from early morning till almost +evening, excepting only two short spaces for meals. When _Chambers's +Edinburgh Journal_ was commenced, Hogg was asked by his former +schoolfellow, Mr Robert Chambers, to undertake the duties of assistant +editor, on a salary superior to that which he then received; but this +office, from a conscientious scruple about his ability to give +satisfaction, he was led to decline. He was an extensive contributor, +both in prose and verse, to the two first volumes of this popular +periodical; but before the work had gone further, his health began to +give way, and he retired to his father's house in Peeblesshire, where he +died in 1834. He left a young wife and one child. + +Robert Hogg was of low stature and of retiring manners. He was fond of +humour, but was possessed of the strictest integrity and purity of +heart. His compositions are chiefly scattered among the contemporary +periodical literature. He contributed songs to the "Scottish and Irish +Minstrels" and "Select Melodies" of R. A. Smith; and a ballad, entitled +"The Tweeddale Raide," composed in his youth, was inserted by his uncle +in the "Mountain Bard." Those which appear in the present work are +transcribed from a small periodical, entitled "The Rainbow," published +at Edinburgh, in 1821, by R. Ireland; and from the Author's Album, in +the possession of Mr Henry Scott Riddell, to whom it was presented by +his parents after his decease. In the "Rainbow," several of Hogg's +poetical pieces are translations from the German, and from the Latin of +Buchanan. All his compositions evince taste and felicity of expression, +but they are defective in startling originality and power.[17] + +FOOTNOTES: + +[16] See Lockhart's "Life of Sir Walter Scott." + +[17] We have to acknowledge our obligations to Mr Robert Chambers for +many of the particulars contained in this memoir. + + + + +QUEEN OF FAIRIE'S SONG. + + + Haste, all ye fairy elves, hither to me, + Over the holme so green, over the lea, + Over the corrie, and down by the lake, + Cross ye the mountain-burn, thread ye the brake, + Stop not at muirland, wide river, nor sea: + Hasten, ye fairy elves, hither to me! + + Come when the moonbeam bright sleeps on the hill; + Come at the dead of night when all is still; + Come over mountain steep, come over brae, + Through holt and valley deep, through glen-head gray; + Come from the forest glade and greenwood tree; + Hasten, ye fairy elves, hither to me! + + Were ye by woodland or cleugh of the brae, + Were ye by ocean rock dash'd by the spray, + Were ye by sunny dell up in the ben, + Or by the braken howe far down the glen, + Or by the river side; where'er ye be, + Hasten, ye fairy elves, hither to me! + + Hasten, ye fairy elves, hither to-night, + Haste to your revel sports gleesome and light, + To bathe in the dew-drops, and bask in the Leven, + And dance on the moonbeams far up the heaven, + Then sleep on the rosebuds that bloom on the lea; + Hasten, ye fairy elves, hither to me! + + + + +WHEN AUTUMN COMES. + + + When autumn comes an' heather bells + Bloom bonnie owre yon moorland fells, + An' corn that waves on lowland dales + Is yellow ripe appearing; + + Bonnie lassie will ye gang + Shear wi' me the hale day lang; + An' love will mak' us eithly bang + The weary toil o' shearing? + + An' if the lasses should envy, + Or say we love, then you an' I + Will pass ilk ither slyly by, + As if we werena caring. + + But aye I wi' my heuk will whang + The thistles, if in prickles strang + Your bonnie milk-white hands they wrang, + When we gang to the shearing. + + An' aye we'll haud our rig afore, + An' ply to hae the shearing o'er, + Syne you will soon forget you bore + Your neighbours' jibes and jeering. + + For then, my lassie, we'll be wed, + When we hae proof o' ither had, + An' nae mair need to mind what's said + When we're thegither shearing. + + + + +BONNIE PEGGIE, O! + + + Gang wi' me to yonder howe, bonnie Peggie, O! + Down ayont the gowan knowe, bonnie Peggie, O! + When the siller burn rins clear, + When the rose blooms on the brier, + An' where there is none to hear, bonnie Peggie, O! + + I hae lo'ed you e'en an' morn, bonnie Peggie, O! + You hae laugh'd my love to scorn, bonnie Peggie, O! + My heart's been sick and sair, + But it shall be sae nae mair, + I've now gotten a' my care, bonnie Peggie, O! + + You hae said you love me too, bonnie Peggie, O! + An' you've sworn you will be true, bonnie Peggie, O! + Let the world gae as it will, + Be it weel or be it ill, + Nae hap our joy shall spill, bonnie Peggie, O! + + Gang wi' me to yonder howe, bonnie Peggie, O! + Where the flowers o' simmer grow, bonnie Peggie, O! + Nae mair my love is cross'd, + Sorrow's sairest pang is past, + I am happy at the last, bonnie Peggie, O! + + + + +A WISH BURST. + + + Oh, to bound o'er the bonnie blue sea, + With the winds and waves for guides, + From all the wants of Nature free + And all her ties besides. + Beyond where footstep ever trode + Would I hold my onward way, + As wild as the waves on which I rode, + And fearless too as they. + + The angry winds with lengthen'd sweep + Were music to mine ear; + I'd mark the gulfs of the yawning deep + Close round me without fear. + When winter storms burst from the cloud + And trouble the ocean's breast, + I'd joy me in their roaring loud, + And mid their war find rest. + + By islands fair in the ocean placed, + With waves all murmuring round, + My wayward course should still be traced, + And still no home be found. + When calm and peaceful sleeps the tide, + And men look out to sea, + My bark in silence by should glide, + Their wonder and awe to be. + + When sultry summer suns prevail, + And rest on the parching land, + The cool sea breeze would I inhale, + O'er the ocean breathing bland. + A restless sprite, that likes delight, + In calm and tempest found, + 'Twere joy to me o'er the bonnie blue sea + For ever and aye to bound. + + + + +I LOVE THE MERRY MOONLIGHT.[18] + + + I love the merry moonlight, + So wooingly it dances, + At midnight hours, round leaves and flowers, + On which the fresh dew glances. + + I love the merry moonlight, + On lake and pool so brightly + It pours its beams, and in the stream's + Rough current leaps so lightly. + + I love the merry moonlight, + It ever shines so cheerily + When night clouds flit, that, but for it, + Would cast a shade so drearily. + + I love the merry moonlight, + For when it gleams so mildly + The passions rest that rule the breast + At other times so wildly. + + I love the merry moonlight, + For 'neath it I can borrow + Such blissful dreams, that this world seems + Without a sin or sorrow. + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[18] Printed from the author's MS., in the possession of Mr H. S. +Riddell. + + + + +OH, WHAT ARE THE CHAINS OF LOVE MADE OF?[19] + + + Oh, what are the chains of Love made of, + The only bonds that can, + As iron gyves the body, thrall + The free-born soul of man? + + Can you twist a rope of beams of the sun, + Or have you power to seize, + And round your hand, like threads of silk, + Wind up the wandering breeze? + + Can you collect the morning dew + And, with the greatest pains, + Beat every drop into a link, + And of these links make chains? + + More fleeting in their nature still, + And less substantial are + Than sunbeam, breeze, and drop of dew, + Smile, sigh, and tear--by far. + + And yet of these Love's chains are made, + The only bonds that can, + As iron gyves the body, thrall + The free-born soul of man. + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[19] Printed for the first time from the original MS. + + + + +JOHN WRIGHT. + + +A son of genius and of misfortune, John Wright was born on the 1st +September 1805, at the farm-house of Auchincloigh, in the parish of +Sorn, Ayrshire. From his mother, a woman of much originality and +shrewdness, he inherited a strong inclination towards intellectual +culture. His school education was circumscribed, but he experienced +delight in improving his mind, by solitary musings amidst the amenities +of the vicinity of Galston, a village to which his father had removed. +At the age of seven, he began to assist his father in his occupation of +a coal driver; and in his thirteenth year he was apprenticed to the +loom. His master supplied him with books, which he perused with avidity, +and he took an active part in the weekly meetings of apprentices for +mutual literary improvement; but his chief happiness was still +experienced in lonely rambles amidst the interesting scenes of the +neighbourhood, which, often celebrated by the poets, were especially +calculated to foment his own rapidly developing fancy. He fell in love, +was accepted, and ultimately cast off--incidents which afforded him +opportunities of celebrating the charms, and deploring the inconstancy +of the fair. He composed a poem, of fifteen hundred lines, entitled +"Mahomet, or the Hegira," and performed the extraordinary mental effort +of retaining the whole on his memory, at the period being unable to +write. "The Retrospect," a poem of more matured power, was announced in +1824. At the recommendation of friends, having proceeded to Edinburgh to +seek the counsel of men of letters, he submitted the MS. of his poem to +Professor Wilson, Dr M'Crie, Mr Glassford Bell, and others, who +severally expressed their approval, and commended a publication. "The +Retrospect," accordingly, appeared with a numerous list of subscribers, +and was well received by the press. The poet now removed to Cambuslang, +near Glasgow, where he continued to prosecute his occupation of weaving. +He entered into the married state by espousing Margaret Chalmers, a +young woman of respectable connexions and considerable literary tastes. +The desire of obtaining funds to afford change of climate to his wife, +who was suffering from impaired health, induced him to propose a second +edition of his poems, to be published by subscription. During the course +of his canvass, he unfortunately contracted those habits of intemperance +which have proved the bane of so many of the sons of genius. Returning +to the loom at Cambuslang, he began to exchange the pleasures of the +family hearth for the boisterous excitement of the tavern. He separated +from his wife and children, and became the victim of dissipation. In +1853, some of his literary friends published the whole of his poetical +works in a duodecimo volume, in the hope of procuring the means of +extricating him from his painful condition. The attempt did not succeed. +He died in an hospital in Glasgow, of fever, contracted by intemperance. +As a poet, he was possessed of a rich fancy, with strong descriptive +powers. His "Retrospect" abounds with beautiful passages; and some of +his shorter poems and songs are destined to survive. + + + + +AN AUTUMNAL CLOUD. + + + Oh! would I were throned on yon glossy golden cloud, + Soaring to heaven with the eagle so proud, + Floating o'er the sky + Like a spirit, to descry + Each bright realm,--and, when I die, + May it be my shroud! + + I would skim afar o'er ocean, and drink of bliss my fill, + O'er the thunders of Ni'gara and cataracts of Nile,-- + With rising rainbows wreathed, + In mist and darkness sheathed, + Where nought but spirits breathed + Around me the while. + + Above the mighty Alps (o'er the tempest's angry god + Careering on the avalanche) should be my bless'd abode. + There, where Nature lowers more wild + Than her most uncultured child, + Revels beauty--as one smiled + O'er life's darkest mood. + + Our aerial flight should be where eye hath never been, + O'er the stormy Polar deep, where the icy Alps are seen, + Where Death sits, crested high, + As he would invade the sky, + Whilst the living valleys lie + In their beautiful green! + + Spirit of the peaceful autumnal eve! + Child of enchantment! behind thee leave + Thy semblance mantled o'er me; + Too full thy tide of glory + For Fancy to restore thee, + Or Memory give! + + + + +THE MAIDEN FAIR. + + + The moon hung o'er the gay greenwood, + The greenwood o'er the mossy stream, + That roll'd in rapture's wildest mood, + And flutter'd in the fairy beam. + Through light clouds flash'd the fitful gleam + O'er hill and dell,--all Nature lay + Wrapp'd in enchantment, like the dream + Of her that charm'd my homeward way! + + Long had I mark'd thee, maiden fair! + And drunk of bliss from thy dark eye, + And still, to feed my fond despair, + Bless'd thy approach, and, passing by, + I turn'd me round to gaze and sigh, + In worship wild, and wish'd thee mine, + On that fair breast to live and die, + O'er-power'd with transport so divine! + + Still sacred be that hour to love, + And dear the season of its birth, + And fair the glade, and green the grove, + Its bowers ne'er droop in wintry dearth + Of melody and woodland mirth!-- + The hour, the spot, so dear to me! + That wean'd my soul from all on earth, + To be for ever bless'd in thee. + + + + +THE OLD BLIGHTED THORN. + + + All night, by the pathway that crosses the moor, + I waited on Mary, I linger'd till morn, + Yet thought her not false--she had ever been true + To her tryst by the old blighted thorn. + + I had heard of Love lighting to darken the heart, + Fickle, fleeting as wind and the dews of the morn; + Such were not my fears, though I sigh'd all night long, + And wept 'neath the old blighted thorn. + + The snows, that were deep, had awaken'd my dread, + I mark'd as footprints far below by the burn; + I sped to the valley--I found her deep sunk, + On her way to the old blighted thorn! + + I whisper'd, "My Mary!"--she spoke not: I caught + Her hand, press'd her pale cheek--'twas icy and cold; + Then sunk on her bosom--its throbbings were o'er-- + Nor knew how I quitted my hold. + + + + +THE WRECKED MARINER. + + + Stay, proud bird of the shore! + Carry my last breath with thee to the cliff, + Where waits our shatter'd skiff-- + One that shall mark nor it nor lover more. + + Fan with thy plumage bright + Her heaving heart to rest, as thou dost mine; + And, gently to divine + The tearful tale, flap out her beacon-light. + + Again swoop out to sea, + With lone and lingering wail--then lay thy head, + As thou thyself wert dead, + Upon her breast, that she may weep for me. + + Now let her bid false Hope + For ever hide her beam, nor trust again + The peace-bereaving strain-- + Life has, but still far hence, choice flowers to crop. + + Oh! bid not her repine, + And deem my loss too bitter to be borne, + Yet all of passion scorn + But the mild, deep'ning memory of mine. + + Thou art away, sweet wind! + Bear the last trickling tear-drop on thy wing, + And o'er her bosom fling + The love-fraught pearly shower till rest it find! + + + + +JOSEPH GRANT. + + +Joseph Grant, a short-lived poet and prose writer, was born on the farm +of Affrusk, parish of Banchory-Ternan, Kincardineshire, on the 26th of +May 1805. He was instructed in the ordinary branches at the parish +school, and employed as a youth in desultory labour about his father's +farm. From boyhood he cherished a passionate love for reading, and was +no less ardent in his admiration of the picturesque and beautiful in +nature. So early as his fourteenth year he composed verses of some +merit. In 1828, he published "Juvenile Lays," a collection of poems and +songs; and in 1830, "Kincardineshire Traditions"--a small volume of +ballads--both of which obtained a favourable reception. Desirous of +emanating from the retirement of his native parish, he accepted, in +1831, the situation of assistant to a shop-keeper in Stonehaven, and +soon afterwards proceeded to Dundee, where he was employed in the office +of the _Dundee Guardian_ newspaper, and subsequently as clerk to a +respectable writer. + +Grant furnished a series of tales and sketches for _Chambers's Edinburgh +Journal_. In 1834, he published a second small volume of "Poems and +Songs;" and subsequently, in the same year, committed to the press a +prose work, entitled "Tales of the Glens," which he did not, however, +survive to publish. After an illness of fifteen weeks, of a pulmonary +complaint, he died on the 14th April 1835, in his thirtieth year. His +remains were interred in the churchyard of Strachan, Kincardineshire, +where a tombstone, inscribed with some elegiac verses, has been erected +to his memory. The "Tales of the Glens" were published shortly after his +decease, under the editorial care of the late Mr James M'Cosh, of +Dundee, editor of the _Northern Warder_ newspaper; and, in 1836, an +edition of his collected works was published at Edinburgh, with a +biographical preface by the poet Nicol. + +Of a fine genius, a gentle and amiable nature, and pure Christian +sentiments, Grant afforded eminent promise, with a prolonged career, of +becoming an ornament to literature. Cut down in the bloom of youth, his +elegy has been recorded by the Brechin poet, Alexander Laing-- + + "A kinder, warmer heart than his + Was ne'er to minstrel given; + And kinder, holier sympathies + Ne'er sought their native heaven." + + + + +THE BLACKBIRD'S HYMN IS SWEET. + + + The blackbird's hymn is sweet + At fall of gloaming, + When slow, o'er grove and hill, + Night's shades are coming; + But there is a sound that far + More deeply moves us-- + The low sweet voice of her + Who truly loves us. + + Fair is the evening star + Rising in glory, + O'er the dark hill's brow, + Where mists are hoary; + But the star whose rays + The heart falls nearest, + Is the love-speaking eye + Of our heart's dearest. + + Oh, lonely, lonely is + The human bosom, + That ne'er has nursed the sweets + Of young Love's blossom! + The loveliest breast is like + A starless morning, + When clouds frown dark and cold, + And storms are forming. + + + + +LOVE'S ADIEU. + + + The e'e o' the dawn, Eliza, + Blinks over the dark green sea, + An' the moon 's creepin' down to the hill-tap, + Richt dim and drowsilie. + An' the music o' the mornin' + Is murmurin' alang the air; + Yet still my dowie heart lingers + To catch one sweet throb mair. + + We've been as blest, Eliza, + As children o' earth can be, + Though my fondest wish has been knit by + The bonds of povertie; + An' through life's misty sojourn, + That still may be our fa', + But hearts that are link'd for ever + Ha'e strength to bear it a'. + + The cot by the mutterin' burnie, + Its wee bit garden an' field, + May ha'e mair o' the blessin's o' Heaven + Than lichts o' the lordliest bield; + There 's many a young brow braided + Wi' jewels o' far-off isles, + But woe may be drinkin' the heart-springs, + While we see nought but smiles. + + But adieu, my ain Eliza! + Where'er my wanderin's be, + Undyin' remembrance will make thee + The star o' my destinie; + An' well I ken, thou loved one, + That aye, till I return, + Thou 'lt treasure pure faith in thy bosom, + Like a gem in a gowden urn. + + + + +DUGALD MOORE. + + +A poet of remarkable ingenuity and power, Dugald Moore was born in +Stockwell Street, Glasgow, in 1805. His father, who was a private +soldier in one of the Highland regiments, died early in life, leaving +his mother in circumstances of poverty. From his mother's private +tuition, he received the whole amount of his juvenile education. When a +child he was sent to serve as a tobacco-boy for a small pittance of +wages, and as a youth was received into the copper-printing branch of +the establishment of Messrs James Lumsden and Son, booksellers, Queen +Street. He very early began to write verses, and some of his +compositions having attracted the notice of Mr Lumsden, senior, that +benevolent gentleman afforded him every encouragement in the prosecution +of his literary tastes. Through Mr Lumsden's personal exertions in +procuring subscribers, he was enabled to lay before the public in 1829 a +volume of poems entitled "The African, a Tale, and other Poems." Of this +work a second edition was required in the following year, when he +likewise gave to the world a second volume, with the title "Scenes from +the Flood; the Tenth Plague, and other Poems." "The Bridal Night, and +other Poems," a volume somewhat larger than its predecessors, appeared +from his pen in 1831. The profits of these publications enabled him to +commence on his own account as a bookseller and stationer in the city. +His shop, No. 96 Queen Street, became the rendezvous of men of letters, +and many of the influential families gave its occupant the benefit of +their custom. + +In 1833, Moore published "The Bard of the North, a series of Poetical +Tales, illustrative of Highland Scenery and Character;" in 1835, "The +Hour of Retribution, and other Poems;" and in 1839, "The Devoted One, +and other Poems." He died unmarried, after a brief illness, on the 2d +January 1841, in his thirty-sixth year, leaving a competency for the +support of his aged mother. Buried in the Necropolis of the city, a +massive monument, surmounted by a bust, has been raised by his personal +friends in tribute to his memory. Though slightly known to fame, Moore +is entitled to rank among the most gifted of the modern national poets. +Possessed of a vigorous conception, a lofty fancy, intense energy of +feeling, and remarkable powers of versification, his poetry is +everywhere impressed with the most decided indications of genius. He has +chosen the grandest subjects, which he has adorned with the richest +illustration, and an imagery copious and sublime. Had he occupied his +Muse with themes less exalted, he might have enjoyed a wider temporary +popularity; as it is, his poems will find admirers in future times. + + + + +RISE, MY LOVE. + + + Rise, my love! the moon, unclouded, + Wanders o'er the dark blue sea; + Sleep the tyrant's eye has shrouded, + Hynda comes to set thee free! + Leave those vaults of pain and sorrow, + On the long and dreaming deep; + A bower will greet us ere to-morrow, + Where our eyes may cease to weep. + + Oh! some little isle of gladness, + Smiling in the waters clear, + Where the dreary tone of sadness + Never smote the lonely ear-- + Soon will greet us, and deliver + Souls so true, to freedom's plan; + Death may sunder us, but never + Tyrant's threats, nor fetters can. + + Then our lute's exulting numbers, + Unrestrain'd will wander on, + While the night has seal'd in slumbers, + Fair creation, all her own. + And we'll wed, while music stealeth + Through the starry fields above, + While each bounding spirit feeleth + All the luxury of love. + + Then we'll scorn oppression's minions, + All the despot's bolts and powers; + While Time wreathes his heavy pinions + With love's brightest passion-flowers. + Rise, then! let us fly together, + Now the moon laughs on the sea; + East or west, I care not whither, + When with love and liberty! + + + + +JULIA. + + + Born where the glorious star-lights trace + In mountain snows their silver face, + Where Nature, vast and rude, + Looks as if by her God design'd + To fill the bright eternal mind, + With her fair magnitude. + + Hers was a face, to which was given + Less portion of the earth than heaven, + As if each trait had stole + Its hue from Nature's shapes of light; + As if stars, flowers, and all things bright + Had join'd to form her soul. + + Her heart was young--she loved to breathe + The air which spins the mountain's wreath, + To wander o'er the wild, + To list the music of the deep, + To see the round stars on it sleep, + For she was Nature's child! + + Nursed where the soul imbibes the print + Of freedom--where nought comes to taint, + Or its warm feelings quell: + She felt love o'er her spirit driven, + Such as the angels felt in heaven, + Before they sinn'd and fell. + + Her mind was tutor'd from its birth, + From all that's beautiful on earth-- + Lights which cannot expire-- + From all their glory, she had caught + A lustre, till each sense seem'd fraught + With heaven's celestial fire. + + The desert streams familiar grown, + The stars had language of their own, + The hills contain'd a voice + With which she could converse, and bring + A charm from each insensate thing, + Which bade her soul rejoice. + + She had the feeling and the fire, + That fortune's stormiest blast could tire, + Though delicate and young; + Her bosom was not formed to bend-- + Adversity, that firmest friend, + Had all its fibres strung. + + Such was my love--she scorn'd to hide + A passion which she deem'd a pride! + Oft have we sat and view'd + The beauteous stars walk through the night, + And Cynthia lift her sceptre bright, + To curb old Ocean's mood. + + She'd clasp me as if ne'er to part, + That I might feel her beating heart-- + Might read her living eye; + Then pause! I've felt the pure tide roll + Through every vein, which to my soul, + Said--Nature could not lie. + + + + +LUCY'S GRAVE. + + + My spirit could its vigil hold + For ever at this silent spot; + But, ah! the heart within is cold, + The sleeper heeds me not: + The fairy scenes of love and youth, + The smiles of hope, the tales of truth, + By her are all forgot: + Her spirit with my bliss is fled-- + I only weep above the dead! + + I need not view the grassy swell, + Nor stone escutcheon'd fair; + I need no monument to tell + That thou art lying there: + I feel within, a world like this, + A fearful blank in all my bliss-- + An agonized despair, + Which paints the earth in cheerful bloom, + But tells me, thou art in the tomb! + + I knew Death's fatal power, alas + Could doom man's hopes to pine, + But thought that many a year would pass + Before he scatter'd mine! + Too soon he quench'd our morning rays, + Brief were our loves of early days-- + Brief as those bolts that shine + With beautiful yet transient form, + Round the dark fringes of the storm! + + I little thought, when first we met, + A few short months would see + Thy sun, before its noontide, set + In dark eternity! + While love was beaming from thy face, + A lover's eye but ill could trace + Aught that obscured its ray; + So calm its pain thy bosom bore, + I thought not death was at its core! + + The silver moon is shining now + Upon thy lonely bed, + Pale as thine own unblemish'd brow, + Cold as thy virgin head; + She seems to breathe of many a day + Now shrouded with thee in the clay, + Of visions that have fled, + When we beneath her holy flame, + Dream'd over hopes that never came! + + Hark! 'tis the solemn midnight bell, + It mars the hallow'd scene; + And must we bid again--farewell! + Must life still intervene? + Its charms are vain! my heart is laid + E'en with thine own, celestial maid! + A few short days have been + An age of pain--a few may be + A welcome passport, love! to thee. + + + + +THE FORGOTTEN BRAVE. + + + 'Tis finish'd, they 've died for their forefathers' land, + As the patriot sons of the mountain should die, + With the mail on each bosom, the sword in each hand, + On the heath of the desert they lie. + Like their own mountain eagles they rush'd to the fight, + Like the oaks of their deserts they braved its rude blast; + Their blades in the morning look'd dazzling and bright, + But red when the battle was past. + + They rush'd on, exulting in honour, and met + The foes of their country in battle array; + But the sun of their glory in darkness hath set, + And the flowers of the forest are faded away! + Oh! far from the scenes of their childhood they sleep, + No friend of their bosom, no loved one is near, + To add a gray stone to their cairns on the steep, + Or drop o'er their ashes a tear. + + + + +THE FIRST SHIP. + + + The sky in beauty arch'd + The wide and weltering flood, + While the winds in triumph march'd + Through their pathless solitude-- + Rousing up the plume on ocean's hoary crest, + That like space in darkness slept, + When his watch old Silence kept, + Ere the earliest planet leapt + From its breast. + + A speck is on the deeps, + Like a spirit in her flight; + How beautiful she keeps + Her stately path in light! + She sweeps the shining wilderness in glee-- + The sun has on her smiled, + And the waves, no longer wild, + Sing in glory round that child + Of the sea. + + 'Twas at the set of sun + That she tilted o'er the flood, + Moving like God alone + O'er the glorious solitude-- + The billows crouch around her as her slaves. + How exulting are her crew-- + Each sight to them is new, + As they sweep along the blue + Of the waves! + + Fair herald of the fleets + That yet shall cross the wave, + Till the earth with ocean meets + One universal grave, + What armaments shall follow thee in joy! + Linking each distant land + With trade's harmonious band, + Or bearing havoc's brand + To destroy! + + + + +WEEP NOT. + + + Though this wild brain is aching, + Spill not thy tears with mine; + Come to my heart, though breaking, + Its firmest half is thine. + Thou wert not made for sorrow, + Then do not weep with me; + There is a lovely morrow, + That yet will dawn on thee. + + When I am all forgotten-- + When in the grave I lie-- + When the heart that loved thee 's broken, + And closed the sparkling eye; + Love's sunshine still will cheer thee, + Unsullied, pure, and deep; + For the God who 's ever near thee, + Will never see thee weep. + + + + +TO THE CLYDE. + + + When cities of old days + But meet the savage gaze, + Stream of my early ways + Thou wilt roll. + Though fleets forsake thy breast, + And millions sink to rest-- + Of the bright and glorious west + Still the soul. + + When the porch and stately arch, + Which now so proudly perch + O'er thy billows, on their march + To the sea, + Are but ashes in the shower; + Still the jocund summer hour, + From his cloud will weave a bower + Over thee. + + When the voice of human power + Has ceased in mart and bower, + Still the broom and mountain flower + Will thee bless. + And the mists that love to stray + O'er the Highlands, far away, + Will come down their deserts gray + To thy kiss. + + And the stranger, brown with toil, + From the far Atlantic soil, + Like the pilgrim of the Nile, + Yet may come + To search the solemn heaps + That moulder by thy deeps, + Where desolation sleeps, + Ever dumb. + + Though fetters yet should clank + O'er the gay and princely rank + Of cities on thy bank, + All sublime; + Still thou wilt wander on, + Till eternity has gone, + And broke the dial stone + Of old Time. + + + + +REV. T. G. TORRY ANDERSON. + + +The author of the deservedly popular words and air of "The Araby Maid," +Thomas Gordon Torry Anderson was the youngest son of Patrick Torry, +D.D., titular bishop of St Andrews, Dunkeld, and Dunblane. His mother, +Jane Young, was the daughter of Dr William Young, of Fawsyde, +Kincardineshire. Born at Peterhead on the 9th July 1805, he received his +elementary education at the parish school of that place. He subsequently +prosecuted his studies in Marischal College, Aberdeen, and the +University of Edinburgh. In 1827, he received holy orders, and was +admitted to the incumbency of St John's Episcopal Church, Portobello. He +subsequently became assistant in St George's Episcopal Church, +Edinburgh, and was latterly promoted to the pastorate of St Paul's +Episcopal Church, Dundee. + +Devoted to the important duties of the clerical office, Mr Torry +Anderson experienced congenial recreation in the cultivation of music +and song, and in the occasional composition of both. He composed, in +1833, the words and air of "The Araby Maid," which speedily obtained a +wide popularity. The music and words of the songs, entitled "The +Maiden's Vow," and "I Love the Sea," were composed in 1837 and 1854, +respectively. To a work, entitled "Poetical Illustrations of the +Achievements of the Duke of Wellington and his Companions in Arms," +published in 1852, he extensively contributed. During the summer of +1855, he fell into bad health, and was obliged to resign his incumbency. +He afterwards resided on his estate of Fawsyde, to which he had +succeeded, in 1850, on the death of his uncle, Dr Young. He died at +Aberdeen on the 20th of June 1856, in his fifty-first year. He was three +times married--first, in 1828, to Mrs Gaskin Anderson of Tushielaw, +whose name he adopted to suit the requirements of an entail; secondly, +he espoused, in 1838, Elizabeth Jane, daughter of Dr Thomas Sutter, +R.N.; and lastly, Mrs Hill, widow of Mr William Hill, R.N., whom he +married in 1854. He has left a widow and six children. + + + + +THE ARABY MAID. + + + Away on the wings of the wind she flies, + Like a thing of life and light-- + And she bounds beneath the eastern skies, + And the beauty of eastern night. + + Why so fast flies the bark through the ocean's foam, + Why wings it so speedy a flight? + 'Tis an Araby maid who hath left her home, + To fly with her Christian knight. + + She hath left her sire and her native land, + The land which from childhood she trode, + And hath sworn, by the pledge of her beautiful hand, + To worship the Christian's God. + + Then away, away, oh swift be thy flight, + It were death one moment's delay; + For behind there is many a blade glancing bright-- + Then away--away--away! + + They are safe in the land where love is divine, + In the land of the free and the brave-- + They have knelt at the foot of the holy shrine, + Nought can sever them now but the grave. + + + + +THE MAIDEN'S VOW. + + + The maid is at the altar kneeling, + Hark the chant is loudly pealing-- + Now it dies away! + + Her prayers are said at the holy shrine, + No other thought but thought divine + Doth her sad bosom fill. + + The world to her is nothing now, + For she hath ta'en a solemn vow + To do her father's will. + + But why hath one so fair, so young, + The joys of life thus from her flung-- + Why hath she ta'en the veil? + + Her lover fell where the brave should fall, + Amidst the fight, when the trumpet's call + Proclaim'd the victory. + + He fought, he fell, a hero brave-- + And though he fill a lowly grave, + His name can never die. + + The victory's news to the maiden came-- + They loudly breathed her lover's name, + Who for his country fell. + + But vain the loudest trumpet tone + Of fame to her, when he was gone + To whom the praise was given! + + Her sun of life had set in gloom-- + Its joys were withered in his tomb-- + She vow'd herself to Heaven. + + + + +I LOVE THE SEA. + + + I love the sea, I love the sea, + My childhood's home, my manhood's rest, + My cradle in my infancy-- + The only bosom I have press'd. + I cannot breathe upon the land, + Its manners are as bonds to me, + Till on the deck again I stand, + I cannot feel that I am free. + + Then tell me not of stormy graves-- + Though winds be high, there let them roar; + I 'd rather perish on the waves + Than pine by inches on the shore. + I ask no willow where I lie, + My mourner let the mermaid be, + My only knell the sea-bird's cry, + My winding-sheet the boundless sea! + + + + +GEORGE ALLAN. + + +George Allan was the youngest son of John Allan, farmer at Paradykes, +near Edinburgh, where he was born on the 2d February 1806. Ere he had +completed his fourteenth year, he became an orphan by the death of both +his parents. Intending to prosecute his studies as a lawyer, he served +an apprenticeship in the office of a Writer to the Signet. He became a +member of that honourable body, but almost immediately relinquished +legal pursuits, and proceeded to London, resolved to commence the career +of a man of letters. In the metropolis his literary aspirations were +encouraged by Allan Cunningham and Mr and Mrs S. C. Hall. In 1829, he +accepted an appointment in Jamaica; but, his health suffering from the +climate of the West Indies, he returned in the following year. Shortly +after his arrival in Britain, he was fortunate in obtaining the +editorship of the _Dumfries Journal_, a respectable Conservative +newspaper. This he conducted with distinguished ability and success for +three years, when certain new arrangements, consequent on a change in +the proprietary, rendered his services unnecessary. A letter of Allan +Cunningham, congratulating him on his appointment as a newspaper editor, +is worthy of quotation, from its shrewd and sagacious counsels:-- + + "Study to fill your paper," writes Cunningham, "with + such agreeable and diversified matter as will allure + readers; correct intelligence, sprightly and elegant + paragraphs, remarks on men and manners at once free + and generous; and local intelligence pertaining to the + district, such as please men of the Nith in a far land. + These are the staple commodity of a newspaper, and + these you can easily have. A few literary paragraphs + you can easily scatter about; these attract + booksellers, and booksellers will give advertisements + where they find their works are noticed. Above all + things, write cautiously concerning all localities; if + you praise much, a hundred will grumble; if you are + severe, one only may complain, but twenty will shake + the head. You will have friends on one side of the + water desiring one thing, friends on the other side + desiring the reverse, and in seeking to please one you + vex ten. An honest heart, a clear head, and a good + conscience, will enable you to get well through all." + +On terminating his connexion with the _Dumfries Journal_, Allan +proceeded to Edinburgh, where he was immediately employed by the Messrs +Chambers as a literary assistant. In a letter addressed to a friend, +about this period, he thus expresses himself regarding his enterprising +employers:-- + + "They are never idle. Their very recreations are made conducive + to their business, and they go through their labours with a + spirit and cheerfulness, which shew how consonant these are with + their dispositions." "Mr Robert Chambers," he adds, "is the most + mild, unassuming, kind-hearted man I ever knew, and is perfectly + uneasy if he thinks there is any one uncomfortable about him. The + interest which he has shewn in my welfare has been beyond + everything I ever experienced, and the friendly yet delicate way + in which he is every other day asking me if I am all comfortable + at home, and bidding me apply to him when I am in want of + anything, equally puzzles me to understand or express due thanks + for." + +Besides contributing many interesting articles to _Chambers's Edinburgh +Journal_, and furnishing numerous communications to the _Scotsman_ +newspaper, Allan wrote a "Life of Sir Walter Scott," in an octavo +volume, which commanded a wide sale, and was much commended by the +public press. In preparing that elegant work, the "Original National +Melodies of Scotland," the ingenious editor, Mr Peter M'Leod, was +favoured by him with several songs, which he set forth in that +publication, with suitable music. In 1834, some of his relatives +succeeded, by political influence, in obtaining for him a subordinate +situation in the Stamp Office,--one which at once afforded him a certain +subsistence, and did not necessarily preclude the exercise of his +literary talents. But a constitutional weakness of the nervous system +did not permit of his long enjoying the smiles of fortune. He died +suddenly at Janefield, near Leith, on the 15th August 1835, in his +thirtieth year. In October 1831, he had espoused Mrs Mary Hill, a widow, +eldest daughter of Mr William Pagan, of Curriestanes, and niece of Allan +Cunningham, who, with one of their two sons, still survives. Allan was a +man of singularly gentle and amiable dispositions, a pleasant companion, +and devoted friend. In person he was tall and rather thin, with a +handsome, intelligent countenance. An enthusiast in the concerns of +literature, it is to be feared that he cut short his career by +overstrained application. His verses are animated and vigorous, and are +largely imbued with the national spirit.[20] + +FOOTNOTES: + +[20] We are indebted to William Pagan, Esq. of Clayton, author of "Road +Reform," for much of the information contained in this memoir. Mr Pagan +kindly procured for our use the whole of Mr Allan's papers and MSS. + + + + +IS YOUR WAR-PIPE ASLEEP?[21] + + + Is your war-pipe asleep, and for ever, M'Crimman? + Is your war-pipe asleep, and for ever? + Shall the pibroch, that welcom'd the foe to Benaer, + Be hush'd when we seek the dark wolf in his lair, + To give back our wrongs to the giver? + To the raid and the onslaught our chieftains have gone, + Like the course of the fire-flaught the clansmen pass'd on, + With the lance and the shield 'gainst the foe they have boon'd them, + And have ta'en to the field with their vassals around them; + Then raise your wild slogan-cry--on to the foray! + Sons of the heather-hill, pinewood, and glen, + Shout for M'Pherson, M'Leod, and the Moray, + Till the Lomonds re-echo the challenge again! + + +II.--(M'CRIMMAN.) + + Youth of the daring heart! bright be thy doom + As the bodings which light up thy bold spirit now, + But the fate of M'Crimman is closing in gloom, + And the breath of the gray wraith hath pass'd o'er his brow; + Victorious, in joy, thou'lt return to Benaer, + And be clasp'd to the hearts of thy best beloved there, + But M'Crimman, M'Crimman, M'Crimman, never-- + Never! Never! Never! + + +III.--(CLANSMEN.) + + Wilt thou shrink from the doom thou canst shun not, M'Crimman? + Wilt thou shrink from the doom thou canst shun not? + If thy course must be brief, let the proud Saxon know + That the soul of M'Crimman ne'er quail'd when a foe + Bared his blade in the land he had won not! + Where the light-footed roe leaves the wild breeze behind, + And the red heather-bloom gives its sweets to the wind, + There our broad pennon flies, and the keen steeds are prancing, + 'Mid the startling war-cries, and the war-weapons glancing, + Then raise your wild slogan-cry--on to the foray! + Sons of the heather-hill, pinewood, and glen; + Shout for M'Pherson, M'Leod, and the Moray, + Till the Lomonds re-echo the challenge again! + +FOOTNOTES: + +[21] In Blackie's "Book of Scottish Song," this song is attributed to +the Rev. George Allan, D.D. It is also inserted among the songs of the +Ettrick Shepherd, published by the Messrs Blackie. The latter blunder is +accounted for by the fact that a copy of the song, which was sent to the +Shepherd by Mr H. S. Riddell, as a specimen of Mr Allan's poetical +talents, had been found among his papers subsequent to his decease. This +song, with the two immediately following, appeared in M'Leod's "National +Melodies," but they are here transcribed from the author's MSS. + + + + +I WILL THINK OF THEE YET. + + + I will think of thee yet, though afar I may be, + In the land of the stranger, deserted and lone, + Though the flowers of this earth are all wither'd to me, + And the hopes which once bloom'd in my bosom are gone, + I will think of thee yet, and the vision of night + Will oft bring thine image again to my sight, + And the tokens will be, as the dream passes by, + A sigh from the heart and a tear from the eye. + + I will think of thee yet, though misfortune fall chill + O'er my path, as yon storm-cloud that lours on the lea, + And I'll deem that this life is worth cherishing still, + While I know that one heart still beats warmly for me. + Yes! Grief and Despair may encompass me round, + 'Till not e'en the shadow of peace can be found; + But mine anguish will cease when my thoughts turn to you + And the wild mountain land which my infancy knew. + + I will think of thee; oh! if I e'er can forget + The love that grew warm as all others grew cold, + 'Twill but be when the sun of my reason hath set, + Or memory fled from her care-haunted hold; + But while life and its woes to bear on is my doom, + Shall my love, like a flower in the wilderness, bloom; + And thine still shall be, as so long it hath been, + A light to my soul when no other is seen. + + + + +LASSIE, DEAR LASSIE. + + + Lassie, dear lassie, the dew 's on the gowan, + And the brier-bush is sweet whar the burnie is rowin', + But the best buds of Nature may blaw till they weary, + Ere they match the sweet e'e or the cheek o' my dearie! + + I wander alane, when the gray gloamin' closes, + And the lift is spread out like a garden o' roses; + But there 's nought which the earth or the sky can discover + Sae fair as thysell to thy fond-hearted lover! + + The snaw-flake is pure frae the clud when it 's shaken, + And melts into dew ere it fa's on the bracken, + Oh sae pure is the heart I hae won to my keepin'! + But warm as the sun-blink that thaw'd it to weepin'! + + Then come to my arms, and the bosom thou 'rt pressing + Will tell by its throbs a' there's joy in confessing, + For my lips could repeat it a thousand times over, + And the tale still seem new to thy fond-hearted lover. + + + + +WHEN I LOOK FAR DOWN ON THE VALLEY BELOW ME.[22] + + + When I look far down on the valley below me, + Where lowly the lot of the cottager's cast, + While the hues of the evening seem ling'ring to shew me + How calmly the sun of this life may be pass'd, + How oft have I wish'd that kind Heaven had granted + My hours in such spot to have peacefully run, + Where, if pleasures were few, they were all that I wanted, + And Contentment 's a blessing which wealth never won. + + I have mingled with mankind, and far I have wander'd, + Have shared all the joys youth so madly pursues; + I have been where the bounties of Nature were squander'd + Till man became thankless and learn'd to refuse! + Yet _there_ I still found that man's innocence perish'd, + As the senses might sway or the passions command; + That the scenes where alone the soul's treasures were cherish'd, + Were the peaceful abodes of my own native land. + + Then why should I leave this dear vale of my choice + And the friends of my bosom, so faithful and true, + To mix in the great world, whose jarring and noise + Must make my soul cheerless though sorrows were few? + Ah! too sweet would this life of probation be render'd, + Our feelings ebb back from Eternity's strand, + And the hopes of Elysium in vain would be tender'd, + Could we have all we wish'd in our dear native land. + +FOOTNOTES: + +[22] Printed, for the first time, from the author's MS. + + + + +I WILL WAKE MY HARP WHEN THE SHADES OF EVEN.[23] + + + I will wake my harp when the shades of even + Are closing around the dying day, + When thoughts that wear the hues of Heaven + Are weaning my heart from the world away; + And my strain will tell of a land and home + Which my wand'ring steps have left behind, + Where the hearts that throb and the feet that roam + Are free as the breath of their mountain wind. + + I will wake my harp when the star of Vesper + Hath open'd its eye on the peaceful earth, + When not a leaf is heard to whisper + That a dew-drop falls, or a breeze hath birth. + And you, dear friends of my youthful years, + Will oft be the theme of my lonely lay, + And a smile for the past will gild the tears + That tell how my heart is far away. + + I will wake my harp when the moon is holding + Her star-tent court in the midnight sky, + When the spirits of love, their wings unfolding, + Bring down sweet dreams to each fond one's eye. + And well may I hail that blissful hour, + For my spirit will then, from its thrall set free, + Return to my own lov'd maiden's bower, + And gather each sigh that she breathes for me. + + Thus, still when those pensive hours are bringing + The feelings and thoughts which no lips can tell, + I will charm each cloud from my soul by singing + Of all I have left and lov'd so well. + Oh! Fate may smile, and Sorrow may cease, + But the dearest hope we on earth can gain + Is to come, after long sad years, in peace, + And be join'd with the friends of our love, again. + +FOOTNOTES: + +[23] Printed for the first time. + + + + +THOMAS BRYDSON. + + +Thomas Brydson was born in Glasgow in 1806. On completing the usual +course of study at the Universities of Glasgow and Edinburgh, he became +a licentiate of the Established Church. He assisted in the Middle +Church, Greenock, and in the parish of Kilmalcolm, Renfrewshire, and +was, in 1839, ordained minister of Levern Chapel, near Paisley. In 1842, +he was translated to the full charge of Kilmalcolm, where he continued +to minister with much acceptance till his death, which took place +suddenly on the 28th January 1855. + +A man of fine fancy and correct taste, Mr Brydson was, in early life, +much devoted to poetical composition. In 1829, he published a duodecimo +volume of "Poems;" and a more matured collection of his poetical pieces +in 1832, under the title of "Pictures of the Past." He contributed, in +prose and verse, to the _Edinburgh Literary Journal_; the _Republic of +Letters_, a Glasgow publication; and some of the London annuals. Though +fond of correspondence with his literary friends, and abundantly +hospitable, he latterly avoided general society, and, in a great +measure, confined himself to his secluded parish of Kilmalcolm. Among +his parishioners he was highly esteemed for the unction and fervour +which distinguished his public ministrations, as well as for the +gentleness of his manners and the generosity of his heart. Of domestic +animals he was devotedly fond. He took delight in pastoral scenery, and +in solitary musings among the hills. His poetry is pervaded by elegance +of sentiment and no inconsiderable vigour of expression. + + + + +ALL LOVELY AND BRIGHT. + + + All lovely and bright, 'mid the desert of time, + Seem the days when I wander'd with you, + Like the green isles that swell in this far distant clime, + On the deeps that are trackless and blue. + + And now, while the torrent is loud on the hill, + And the howl of the forest is drear, + I think of the lapse of our own native rill-- + I think of thy voice with a tear. + + The light of my taper is fading away, + It hovers, and trembles, and dies; + The far-coming morn on her sea-paths is gray, + But sleep will not come to mine eyes. + + Yet why should I ponder, or why should I grieve + O'er the joys that my childhood has known? + We may meet, when the dew-flowers are fragrant at eve, + As we met in the days that are gone. + + + + +CHARLES DOYNE SILLERY. + + +Though a native of Ireland, Charles Doyne Sillery has some claim to +enrolment among the minstrels of Caledonia. His mother was a +Scotchwoman, and he was himself brought up and educated in Edinburgh. He +was born at Athlone, in Ireland, on the 2d of March 1807. His father, +who bore the same Christian and middle names, was a captain of the Royal +Artillery.[24] He distinguished himself in the engagements of Talavera +on the 27th and 28th of July 1809; but from his fatigues died soon +after. His mother, Catherine Fyfe, was the youngest daughter of Mr +Barclay Fyfe, merchant in Leith. She subsequently became the wife of +James Watson, Esq., now of Tontley Hall, Berkshire. + +Of lively and playful dispositions, Sillery did not derive much +advantage from scholastic training. His favourite themes were poetry and +music, and these he assiduously cultivated, much to the prejudice of +other important studies. At a subsequent period he devoted himself with +ardour to his improvement in general knowledge. He read extensively, and +became conversant with the ancient and some of the modern languages. +Disappointed in obtaining a commission in the Royal Artillery, on which +he had calculated, he proceeded to India as midshipman in a merchant +vessel. Conceiving a dislike to a seafaring life, after a single voyage, +he entered on the study of medicine in the University of Edinburgh. From +early youth he composed verses. In 1829, while only in his twenty-second +year, he published, by subscription, a poem, in nine cantos, entitled +"Vallery; or, the Citadel of the Lake." This production, which refers to +the times of Chivalry, was well received; and, in the following year, +the author ventured on the publication of a second poem, in two books, +entitled "Eldred of Erin." In the latter composition, which is pervaded +by devotional sentiment, the poet details some of his personal +experiences. In 1834 he published, in a small duodecimo volume, "The +Exiles of Chamouni; a Drama," a production which received only a limited +circulation. About the same period, he became a contributor of verses to +the _Edinburgh Literary Journal_. He ultimately undertook the editorial +superintendence of a religious periodical. + +Delicate in constitution, and of a highly nervous temperament, Sillery +found the study of medicine somewhat uncongenial, and had formed the +intention of qualifying himself for the Church. He calculated on early +ecclesiastical preferment through the favour of Her Majesty Queen +Adelaide, to whom he had been presented, and who had evinced some +interest on his behalf. But his prospects were soon clouded by the slow +but certain progress of an insidious malady. He was seized with +pulmonary consumption, and died at Edinburgh on the 16th May 1836, in +his twenty-ninth year. + +Of sprightly and winning manners, Sillery was much cherished in the +literary circles of the capital. He was of the ordinary height, and of +an extremely slender figure; and his eye, remarkably keen and piercing, +was singularly indicative of power. Poetry, in its every department, he +cherished with the devotion of an enthusiast; and though sufficiently +modest on the subject of his own poetical merits, he took delight in +singing his own songs. Interested in the history of the Middle Ages, he +had designed to publish an "Account of Ancient Chivalry." Latterly, his +views were more concentrated on the subject of religion. Shortly before +his death, he composed a "Discourse on the Sufferings of Christ," the +proof-sheets of which he corrected on his deathbed. As a poet, with more +advanced years, he would have obtained a distinguished place. With +occasional defects, the poem of "Vallery" is possessed of much boldness +of imagery, and force and elegance of expression. + +FOOTNOTES: + +[24] Captain Doyne Sillery was born in Drogheda, Ireland, of which place +his father was mayor during the Rebellion of 1798, and where he +possessed considerable property. He was descended from one of the most +ancient and illustrious families in France, of which the representative +took refuge in England during the infamous persecution of the +Protestants in the sixteenth century. On the reduction of priestly power +in Ireland by Cromwell, the family settled in that portion of the United +Kingdom. The family name was originally Brulart. Nicolas Brulart, +Marquis de Sillery, Lord de Pinsieux, de Marinis, and de Berny, acquired +much reputation from the many commissions in which he served in France. +(See "L'Histoire Genealogique et Chronologique des Chanceliers de +France," tom. vi. p. 524). On the maternal side Captain Sillery was +lineally descended from Edward Hyde, Earl of Clarendon, the famous +chancellor. + + + + +SHE DIED IN BEAUTY. + + + She died in beauty! like a rose + Blown from its parent stem; + She died in beauty! like a pearl + Dropp'd from some diadem. + + She died in beauty! like a lay + Along a moonlit lake; + She died in beauty! like the song + Of birds amid the brake. + + She died in beauty! like the snow + On flowers dissolved away; + She died in beauty! like a star + Lost on the brow of day. + + She _lives_ in glory! like night's gems + Set round the silver moon; + She lives in glory! like the sun + Amid the blue of June! + + + + +THE SCOTTISH BLUE BELLS. + + + Let the proud Indian boast of his jessamine bowers, + His pastures of perfume, and rose-cover'd dells; + While humbly I sing of those wild little flowers-- + The blue-bells of Scotland, the Scottish blue-bells. + + Wave, wave your dark plumes, ye proud sons of the mountain, + For brave is the chieftain your prowess who quells, + And dreadful your wrath as the foam-flashing fountain, + That calms its wild waves 'mid the Scottish blue-bells. + + Then strike the loud harp to the land of the river, + The mountain, the valley, with all their wild spells, + And shout in the chorus for ever and ever-- + The blue-bells of Scotland, the Scottish blue-bells. + + Sublime are your hills when the young day is beaming, + And green are your groves with their cool crystal wells, + And bright are your broadswords, like morning dews gleaming + On blue-bells of Scotland, on Scottish blue-bells. + + Awake! ye light fairies that trip o'er the heather, + Ye mermaids, arise from your coralline cells-- + Come forth with your chorus, all chanting together-- + The blue-bells of Scotland, the Scottish blue-bells. + + Then strike the loud harp to the land of the river, + The mountain, the valley, with all their wild spells, + And shout in the chorus for ever and ever-- + The blue-bells of Scotland, the Scottish blue-bells. + + + + +ROBERT MILLER. + + +Robert Miller, the author of the two following songs, was a native of +Glasgow, and was educated for the legal profession. He contributed +verses to the periodicals, but did not venture on any separate +publication. He died at Glasgow, in September 1834, at the early age of +twenty-four. His "Lay of the Hopeless" was written within a few days of +his decease. + + + + +WHERE ARE THEY? + + + The loved of early days! + Where are they?--where? + Not on the shining braes, + The mountains bare;-- + Not where the regal streams + Their foam-bells cast-- + Where childhood's time of dreams + And sunshine pass'd. + + Some in the mart, and some + In stately halls, + With the ancestral gloom + Of ancient walls; + Some where the tempest sweeps + The desert waves; + Some where the myrtle weeps + On Roman graves. + + And pale young faces gleam + With solemn eyes; + Like a remember'd dream + The dead arise; + In the red track of war + The restless sweep; + In sunlit graves afar + The loved ones sleep. + + The braes are dight with flowers, + The mountain streams + Foam past me in the showers + Of sunny gleams; + But the light hearts that cast + A glory there, + In the rejoicing past, + Where are they?--where? + + + + +LAY OF THE HOPELESS. + + + Oh! would that the wind that is sweeping now + O'er the restless and weary wave, + Were swaying the leaves of the cypress bough + O'er the calm of my early grave-- + And my heart with its pulses of fire and life, + Oh! would it were still as stone. + I am weary, weary, of all the strife, + And the selfish world I 've known. + + I 've drunk up bliss from a mantling cup, + When youth and joy were mine; + But the cold black dregs are floating up, + Instead of the laughing wine; + And life hath lost its loveliness, + And youth hath spent its hour, + And pleasure palls like bitterness, + And hope hath not a flower. + + And love! was it not a glorious eye + That smiled on my early dream? + It is closed for aye, where the long weeds sigh, + In the churchyard by the stream: + And fame--oh! mine were gorgeous hopes + Of a flashing and young renown: + But early, early the flower-leaf drops + From the withering seed-cup down. + + And beauty! have I not worshipp'd all + Her shining creations well? + The rock--the wood--the waterfall, + Where light or where love might dwell. + But over all, and on my heart, + The mildew hath fallen sadly, + I have no spirit, I have no part + In the earth that smiles so gladly! + + I only sigh for a quiet bright spot + In the churchyard by the stream, + Whereon the morning sunbeams float, + And the stars at midnight dream; + Where only Nature's sounds may wake + The sacred and silent air, + And only her beautiful things may break + Through the long grass gathering there. + + + + +ALEXANDER HUME. + + +Alexander Hume was born at Kelso on the 1st of February 1809. His +father, Walter Hume, occupied a respectable position as a retail trader +in that town. Of the early history of our author little has been +ascertained. His first teacher was Mr Ballantyne of Kelso, a man +somewhat celebrated in his vocation. To his early preceptor's kindness +of heart, Hume frequently referred with tears. While under Mr +Ballantyne's scholastic superintendence, his love of nature first became +apparent. After school hours it was his delight to wander by the banks +of the Tweed, or reclining on its brink, to listen to the music of its +waters. From circumstances into which we need not inquire, his family +was induced to remove from Kelso to London. The position they occupied +we have not learned; but young Hume is remembered as being a quick, +intelligent, and most affectionate boy, eager, industrious, +self-reliant, and with an occasional dash of independence that made him +both feared and loved. He might have been persuaded to adopt almost any +view, but an attempt at coercion only excited a spirit of antagonism. To +use an old and familiar phrase, "he might break, but he would not bend." + +About this period (1822 or 1823), when irritated by those who had +authority over him, he suddenly disappeared from home, and allied +himself to a company of strolling players, with whom he associated for +several months. He had an exquisite natural voice, and sung the melting +melodies of Scotland in a manner seldom equalled. With the itinerant +manager he was a favourite, because he was fit for anything--tragedy, +comedy, farce, a hornpipe, and, if need be, a comic song, in which +making faces at the audience was an indispensable accomplishment. His +greatest hit, we are told, was in the absurdly extravagant song, "I am +such a Beautiful Boy;" when he used to say that in singing one verse, he +opened his mouth so wide that he had difficulty in closing it; but it +appears he had neither difficulty nor reluctance in closing his +engagement. Getting tired of his new profession, and disgusted with his +associates, poorly clad and badly fed, he slipped away when his +companions were fast asleep, and returned to London. Here, weary and +footsore, he presented himself to a relative, who received him kindly, +and placed him in a position where by industry he might provide for his +necessities. + +In 1827, he obtained a situation with Forbes & Co. of Mark Lane, the +highly respectable agents for Berwick & Co. of Edinburgh, the celebrated +brewers of Scotch ale. His position being one of considerable +responsibility, he was obliged to find security in the sum of L500, +which he obtained from the relative who had always stood his friend. But +such was his probity and general good conduct, that his employers +cancelled the security, and returned the bond as a mark of their +appreciation of his integrity and worth. + +About this period it was that he first gave utterance to his feelings in +verse. Impulsive and impassioned naturally, his first strong attachment +roused the deepest feelings of the man, and awoke the dormant passion of +the poet. The non-success of his first wooing only made his song the +more vehement for a while, but as no flame can burn intensely for ever, +his love became more subdued, and his song gradually assumed that +touching pathos which has ever characterised the best lyrics of +Scotland. + +Some time between the years 1830 and 1833, he became a member of the +Literary and Scientific Institution, Aldersgate Street, where he made +the acquaintance of many kindred spirits, young men of the same standing +as himself, chiefly occupied in the banks, offices, and warehouses of +the city of London. There they had classes established for the study of +history, for the discussion of philosophical and literary subjects, and +for the practice of elocution. The recitations of the several members +awoke the embers that smouldered in his heart from the time he had left +the stage. His early experience had made him acquainted with the manner +in which the voice ought to be modulated to make the utterance +effective; and although he seldom ventured to recite, he was always a +fair critic and a deeply interested auditor. The young ambition of a few +had led them to aspire to authorship, and they established a monthly +magazine. Although the several articles were not of the highest order, +they were, nevertheless, quite equal to the average periodical writings +of the day. In this magazine it is believed that Hume published his +first song. It had been sent in the ordinary way, signed _Daft Wattie_, +and the editor, not appreciating the northern dialect in which it was +written, had tossed it aside. Shortly afterwards, one of the managers on +turning over the rejected papers was attracted by the verses, read them, +and was charmed. He placed them back in the editor's box, certifying +them as fit for publication by writing across them, + + "Musical as is Apollo's lute," + +to which he signed his name, William Raine. This circumstance soon led +to an intimate acquaintance with Mr Raine, who was a man of considerable +original power, excellent education, and of a social and right manly +nature. This new acquaintance coloured the whole of Hume's future life. +They became fast friends, and were inseparable. The imagination of Hume +was restrained by the acute judgment and critical ability of Mr Raine. +When Hume published his first volume of "Songs," it would perhaps be +difficult to determine whether their great success and general +popularity resulted from the poet whose name they bore, or from the +friend who weighed and suggested corrections in almost every song, until +they finally came before the public in a collected form. The volume was +dedicated to Allan Cunningham, and in the preface he says: "I composed +them by no rules excepting those which my own observation and feelings +formed; I knew no other. As I thought and felt, so have I written. Of +all poetical compositions, songs, especially those of the affections, +should be natural, warm gushes of feeling--brief, simple, and condensed. +As soon as they have left the singer's lips, they should be fast around +the hearer's heart." + +In 1837, Hume married Miss Scott, a lady well calculated to attract the +eye and win the heart of a poet. He remained connected with the house of +Berwick & Co. until 1840, when, to recover his health, which had been +failing for some time, he was advised to visit America, where he +travelled for several months. On his return to England, he entered into +an engagement with the Messrs Lane of Cork, then the most eminent +brewers in the south of Ireland. To this work he devoted himself with +great energy, and was duly rewarded for his labour by almost immediate +success. The article he sold became exceedingly popular in the +metropolis; nor was he disappointed in the hope of realising +considerable pecuniary advantages. + +For several years he had written very little. The necessity to make +provision for a rapidly increasing family, and the ambition to take a +high position in the business he had chosen, occupied his every hour, +and became with him a passion as strong as had ever moved him in works +of the imagination. + +In 1847 there were slight indications of a return of the complaint from +which he had suffered in 1840, and he again crossed the Atlantic. +Although he returned considerably improved in health, he was by no means +well. Fortunately he had secured the services of a Mr Macdonald as an +assistant in his business, whose exertions in his interest were +unremitting. Mr Hume's health gradually declined, and ultimately +incapacitated him for the performance of any commercial duty. In May +1851 he died at Northampton, leaving a widow and six children. + +As a song writer, Hume is entitled to an honourable place among those +authors whose writings have been technically called "the Untutored Muse +of Scotland." His style is eminently graceful, and a deep and genuine +pathos pervades his compositions. We confidently predict that some of +his lyrics are destined to obtain a lasting popularity. In 1845, a +complete edition of his "Songs and Poems" was published at London in a +thin octavo volume. + + + + +MY WEE, WEE WIFE. + +AIR--_"The Boatie Rows."_ + + + My wee wife dwells in yonder cot, + My bonnie bairnies three; + Oh! happy is the husband's lot, + Wi' bairnies on his knee. + My wee, wee wife, my wee, wee wife, + My bonnie bairnies three; + How bright is day how sweet is life! + When love lights up the e'e. + + The king o'er me may wear a crown, + Have millions bow the knee, + But lacks he love to share his throne, + How poor a king is he! + My wee, wee wife, my wee, wee wife, + My bonnie bairnies three, + Let kings ha'e thrones, 'mang warld's strife, + Your hearts are thrones to me. + + I 've felt oppression's galling chain, + I 've shed the tear o' care, + But feeling aye lost a' its pain, + When my wee wife was near. + My wee, wee wife, my wee, wee wife, + My bonnie bairnies three, + The chains we wear are sweet to bear, + How sad could we go free! + + + + +O POVERTY! + +AIR--_"The Posie."_ + + + Eliza was a bonnie lass, and oh! she lo'ed me weel, + Sic love as canna find a tongue, but only hearts can feel; + But I was poor, her faither doure, he wadna look on me; + O poverty! O poverty! that love should bow to thee. + + I went unto her mother, and I argued and I fleech'd, + I spak o' love and honesty, and mair and mair beseech'd; + But she was deaf to a' my grief, she wadna look on me; + O poverty! O poverty! that love should bow to thee. + + I next went to her brother, and I painted a' my pain, + I told him o' our plighted troth, but it was a' in vain; + Though he was deep in love himsel', nae feeling he'd for me; + O poverty! O poverty! that love should bow to thee. + + Oh! wealth it makes the fool a sage, the knave an honest man, + And canker'd gray locks young again, if he has gear and lan'; + To age maun beauty ope her arms, though wi' a tearfu' e'e; + O poverty! O poverty! that love should bow to thee. + + But wait a wee, oh! love is slee, and winna be said nay, + It breaks a' chains, except its ain, but it will ha'e its way; + In spite o' fate we took the gate, now happy as can be; + O poverty! O poverty! we're wed in spite o' thee. + + + + +NANNY. + +AIR--_"Fee him, Father."_ + + + There 's mony a flower beside the rose, + And sweets beside the honey; + But laws maun change ere life disclose + A flower or sweet like Nanny. + Her e'e is like the summer sun, + When clouds can no conceal it, + Ye 're blind if it ye look upon, + Oh! mad if ere ye feel it. + + I 've mony bonnie lassies seen, + Baith blithesome, kind, an' canny; + But oh! the day has never been + I 've seen another Nanny! + She 's like the mavis in her sang, + Amang the brakens bloomin', + Her lips ope to an angel's tongue, + But kiss her, oh! she's woman. + + + + +MY BESSIE. + +AIR--_"The Posie."_ + + + My Bessie, oh! but look upon these bonnie budding flowers, + Oh! do they no remember ye o' mony happy hours, + When on this green and gentle hill we aften met to play, + An' ye were like the morning sun, an' life a nightless day? + + The gowans blossom'd bonnilie, I 'd pu' them from the stem, + An' rin in noisy blithesomeness to thee, my Bess, wi' them, + To place them in thy lily breast, for ae sweet smile on me, + I saw nae mair the gowans then, then saw I only thee. + + Like two fair roses on a tree, we flourish'd an' we grew, + An' as we grew, sweet love grew too, an' strong 'tween me an' you; + How aft ye 'd twine your gentle arms in love about my neck, + An' breathe young vows that after-years o' sorrow has na brak! + + We 'd raise our lisping voices in auld Coila's melting lays, + An' sing that tearfu' tale about Doon's bonnie banks and braes; + But thoughtna' we o' banks and braes, except those at our feet, + Like yon wee birds we sang our sang, yet ken'd no that 'twas sweet. + + Oh! is na this a joyous day, a' Nature's breathing forth, + In gladness an' in loveliness owre a' the wide, wide earth? + The linties they are lilting love, on ilka bush an' tree, + Oh! may such joy be ever felt, my Bess, by thee and me! + + + + +MENIE HAY. + +AIR--_"Heigh-ho! for Somebody."_ + + + A wee bird sits upon a spray, + And aye it sings o' Menie Hay, + The burthen o' its cheery lay + Is "Come away, dear Menie Hay! + Sweet art thou, O Menie Hay! + Fair I trow, O Menie Hay! + There 's not a bonnie flower in May + Shows a bloom wi' Menie Hay." + + A light in yonder window 's seen, + And wi' it seen is Menie Hay; + Wha gazes on the dewy green, + Where sits the bird upon the spray? + "Sweet art thou, O Menie Hay! + Fair I trow, O Menie Hay! + At sic a time, in sic a way, + What seek ye there, O Menie Hay?" + + "What seek ye there, my daughter dear? + What seek ye there, O Menie Hay?" + "Dear mother, but the stars sae clear + Around the bonnie Milky Way." + "Sweet are thou, O Menie Hay! + Slee I trow, O Menie Hay! + Ye something see ye daurna say, + Paukie, winsome Menie Hay!" + + The window 's shut, the light is gane, + And wi' it gane is Menie Hay; + But wha is seen upon the green, + Kissing sweetly Menie Hay? + "Sweet art thou, O Menie Hay! + Slee I trow, O Menie Hay! + For ane sae young ye ken the way, + And far from blate, O Menie Hay!" + + "Gae scour the country, hill and dale; + Oh! waes me, where is Menie Hay? + Search ilka nook, in town or vale, + For my daughter, Menie Hay." + "Sweet art thou, O Menie Hay! + Slee I trow, O Menie Hay! + I wish you joy, young Johnie Fay, + O' your bride, sweet Menie Hay." + + + + +I 'VE WANDER'D ON THE SUNNY HILL. + + + I 've wander'd on the sunny hill, I 've wander'd in the vale, + Where sweet wee birds in fondness meet to breathe their am'rous tale; + But hills or vales, or sweet wee birds, nae pleasures gae to me-- + The light that beam'd its ray on me was Love's sweet glance from thee. + + The rising sun, in golden beams, dispels the night's dark gloom-- + The morning dew to rose's hue imparts a freshening bloom; + But sunbeams ne'er so brightly play'd in dance o'er yon glad sea, + Nor roses laved in dew sae sweet as Love's sweet glance from thee. + + I love thee as the pilgrims love the water in the sand, + When scorching rays or blue simoom sweep o'er their withering hand; + The captive's heart nae gladlier beats when set from prison free, + Than I when bound wi' Beauty's chain in Love's sweet glance from thee. + + I loved thee, bonnie Bessie, as the earth adores the sun, + I ask'd nae lands, I craved nae gear, I prized but thee alone; + Ye smiled in look, but no in heart--your heart was no for me; + Ye planted hope that never bloom'd in Love's sweet glance from thee. + + + + +OH! YEARS HAE COME. + + + Oh! years hae come, an' years hae gane, + Sin' first I sought the warld alane, + Sin' first I mused wi' heart sae fain + On the hills o' Caledonia. + But oh! behold the present gloom, + My early friends are in the tomb, + And nourish now the heather bloom + On the hills o' Caledonia. + + My father's name, my father's lot, + Is now a tale that 's heeded not, + Or sang unsung, if no forgot + On the hills o' Caledonia. + O' our great ha' there 's left nae stane-- + A' swept away, like snaw lang gane; + Weeds flourish o'er the auld domain + On the hills o' Caledonia. + + The Ti'ot's banks are bare and high, + The stream rins sma' an' mournfu' by, + Like some sad heart maist grutten dry + On the hills o' Caledonia. + The wee birds sing no frae the tree, + The wild-flowers bloom no on the lea, + As if the kind things pitied me + On the hills o' Caledonia. + + But friends can live, though cold they lie, + An' mock the mourner's tear an' sigh, + When we forget them, then they die + On the hills o' Caledonia. + An' howsoever changed the scene, + While mem'ry an' my feeling 's green, + Still green to my auld heart an' e'en + Are the hills o' Caledonia. + + + + +MY MOUNTAIN HAME. + +AIR--_"Gala Water."_ + + My mountain hame, my mountain hame! + My kind, my independent mother; + While thought and feeling rule my frame, + Can I forget the mountain heather? + Scotland dear! + + I love to hear your daughters dear + The simple tale in song revealing, + Whene'er your music greets my ear + My bosom swells wi' joyous feeling-- + Scotland dear! + + Though I to other lands may gae, + Should Fortune's smile attend me thither, + I 'll hameward come, whene'er I may, + And look again on the mountain heather-- + Scotland dear! + + When I maun die, oh! I would lie + Where life and me first met together; + That my cauld clay, through its decay, + Might bloom again in the mountain heather-- + Scotland dear! + + + + +THOMAS SMIBERT. + + +A poet and indefatigable prose-writer, Thomas Smibert was born in +Peebles on the 8th February 1810. Of his native town his father held for +a period the office of chief magistrate. With a view of qualifying +himself for the medical profession, he became apprentice to an +apothecary, and afterwards attended the literary and medical classes in +the University of Edinburgh. Obtaining licence as a surgeon, he +commenced practice in the village of Inverleithen, situated within six +miles of his native town. He was induced to adopt this sphere of +professional labour from an affection which he had formed for a young +lady in the vicinity, who, however, did not recompense his devotedness, +but accepted the hand of a more prosperous rival. Disappointed in love, +and with a practice scarcely yielding emolument sufficient to pay the +annual rent of his apothecary's store, he left Inverleithen after the +lapse of a year, and returned to Peebles. He now began to turn his +attention to literature, and was fortunate in procuring congenial +employment from the Messrs Chambers, as a contributor to their popular +_Journal_. Of this periodical he soon attained the position of +sub-editor; and in evidence of the indefatigable nature of his services +in this literary connexion, it is worthy of record that, during the +period intervening between 1837 and 1842, he contributed to the +_Journal_ no fewer than five hundred essays, one hundred tales, and +about fifty biographical sketches. Within the same period he edited a +new edition of Paley's "Natural Theology," with scientific notes, and +wrote extensively for a work of the Messrs Chambers, entitled +"Information for the People." In 1842, he was appointed to the +sub-editorship of the _Scotsman_ newspaper. The bequest of a relative +afterwards enabled him to relinquish stated literary occupation, but he +continued to exhibit to the world pleasing evidences of his learning and +industry. He became a frequent contributor to _Hogg's Instructor_, an +Edinburgh weekly periodical; produced a work on "Greek History;" and +collated a "Rhyming Dictionary." A large, magnificently illustrated +volume, the "Clans of the Highlands of Scotland," was his most ambitious +and successful effort as a prose-writer. His poetical compositions, +which were scattered among a number of the periodicals, he was induced +to collect and publish in a volume, with the title, "Io Anche! Poems +chiefly Lyrical;" Edinburgh, 1851, 12mo. An historical play from his +pen, entitled "Conde's Wife," founded on the love of Henri Quatre for +Marguerite de Montmorency, whom the young Prince of Conde had wedded, +was produced in 1842 by Mr Murray in the Theatre Royal, Edinburgh, and +during a run of nine nights was received with applause. + +Smibert died at Edinburgh on the 16th January 1854, in his forty-fourth +year. With pleasing manners, he was possessed of kindly dispositions, +and was much cherished for his intelligent and interesting conversation. +In person he was strong built, and his complexion was fair and ruddy. He +was not undesirous of reputation both as a poet and prose-writer, and +has recorded his regret that he had devoted so much time to evanescent +periodical literature. His poetry is replete with patriotic sentiment, +and his strain is forcible and occasionally brilliant. His songs +indicate a fine fancy and deep pathos. + + + + +THE SCOTTISH WIDOW'S LAMENT. + + + Afore the Lammas tide + Had dun'd the birken-tree, + In a' our water side + Nae wife was bless'd like me. + A kind gudeman, and twa + Sweet bairns were 'round me here, + But they're a' ta'en awa' + Sin' the fa' o' the year. + + Sair trouble cam' our gate, + And made me, when it cam', + A bird without a mate, + A ewe without a lamb. + Our hay was yet to maw, + And our corn was to shear, + When they a' dwined awa' + In the fa' o' the year. + + I downa look a-field, + For aye I trow I see + The form that was a bield + To my wee bairns and me; + But wind, and weet, and snaw, + They never mair can fear, + Sin' they a' got the ca' + In the fa' o' the year. + + Aft on the hill at e'ens, + I see him 'mang the ferns-- + The lover o' my teens, + The faither o' my bairns; + For there his plaid I saw, + As gloamin' aye drew near, + But my a's now awa' + Sin' the fa' o' the year. + + Our bonnie rigs theirsel', + Reca' my waes to mind; + Our puir dumb beasties tell + O' a' that I hae tyned; + For wha our wheat will saw, + And wha our sheep will shear, + Sin' my a' gaed awa' + In the fa' o' the year? + + My hearth is growing cauld, + And will be caulder still, + And sair, sair in the fauld + Will be the winter's chill; + For peats were yet to ca', + Our sheep they were to smear, + When my a' passed awa' + In the fa' o' the year. + + I ettle whiles to spin, + But wee, wee patterin' feet + Come rinnin' out and in, + And then I just maun greet; + I ken it 's fancy a', + And faster rows the tear, + That my a' dwined awa' + In the fa' o' the year. + + Be kind, O Heaven abune! + To ane sae wae and lane, + And tak' her hamewards sune + In pity o' her maen. + Lang ere the March winds blaw, + May she, far far frae here, + Meet them a' that's awa + Sin' the fa' o' the year! + + + + +THE HERO OF ST JOHN D'ACRE.[25] + + + Once more on the broad-bosom'd ocean appearing + The banner of England is spread to the breeze, + And loud is the cheering that hails the uprearing + Of glory's loved emblem, the pride of the seas. + No tempest shall daunt her, + No victor-foe taunt her, + What manhood can do in her cause shall be done-- + Britannia's best seaman, + The boast of her freemen, + Will conquer or die by his colours and gun. + + On Acre's proud turrets an ensign is flying, + Which stout hearts are banded till death to uphold; + And bold is their crying, and fierce their defying, + When trench'd in their ramparts, unconquer'd of old. + But lo! in the offing, + To punish their scoffing, + Brave Napier appears, and their triumph is done; + No danger can stay him, + No foeman dismay him, + He conquers or dies by his colours and gun. + + Now low in the dust is the Crescent flag humbled, + Its warriors are vanquish'd, their freedom is gone; + The strong walls have tumbled, the proud towers are crumbled, + And England's flag waves over ruin'd St John. + But Napier now tenders + To Acre's defenders + The aid of a friend when the combat is won; + For mercy's sweet blossom + Blooms fresh in his bosom, + Who conquers or dies by his colours and gun. + + "All hail to the hero!" his country is calling, + And "hail to his comrades!" the faithful and brave, + They fear'd not for falling, they knew no appalling, + But fought like their fathers, the lords of the wave. + And long may the ocean, + In calm and commotion, + Rejoicing convey them where fame may be won, + And when foes would wound us + May Napier be round us, + To conquer or die by their colours and gun! + +FOOTNOTES: + +[25] Admiral Sir Charles Napier. + + + + +OH! BONNIE ARE THE HOWES. + + + Oh! bonnie are the howes + And sunny are the knowes + That feed the kye and yowes + Where my life's morn dawn'd; + And brightly glance the rills + That spring amang the hills + And ca' the merry mills + In my ain dear land. + + But now I canna see + The lammies on the lea, + Nor hear the heather bee + On this far, far strand. + I see nae father's ha', + Nae burnie's waterfa', + But wander far awa' + Frae my ain dear land. + + My heart was free and light, + My ingle burning bright, + When ruin cam' by night + Through a foe's fell hand. + I left my native air, + I gaed to come nae mair; + And now I sorrow sair + For my ain dear land. + + But blithely will I bide + Whate'er may yet betide + When ane is by my side + On this far, far strand. + My Jean will soon be here + This waefu' heart to cheer, + And dry the fa'ing tear + For my ain dear land. + + + + +OH! SAY NA YOU MAUN GANG AWA'. + + + Oh! say na you maun gang awa', + Oh! say na you maun leave me; + The dreaded hour that parts us twa + Of peace and hope will reave me. + + When you to distant shores are gane + How could I bear to tarry, + Where ilka tree and ilka stane + Would mind me o' my Mary? + + I couldna wander near yon woods + That saw us oft caressing, + And on our heads let fa' their buds + In earnest o' their blessing. + + Ilk stane wad mind me how we press'd + Its half-o'erspreading heather, + And how we lo'ed the least the best + That made us creep thegither. + + I couldna bide, when you are gane, + My ain, my winsome dearie, + I couldna stay to pine my lane-- + I live but when I 'm near ye. + + Then say na you maun gang awa', + Oh! say na you maun leave me; + For ah! the hour that parts us twa + Of life itself will reave me. + + + + +JOHN BETHUNE. + + +The younger of two remarkable brothers, whose names are justly entitled +to remembrance, John Bethune, was born at the Mount, in the parish of +Monimail, Fifeshire, during the summer of 1810. The poverty of his +parents did not permit his attendance at a public school; he was taught +reading by his mother, and writing and arithmetic by his brother +Alexander,[26] who was considerably his senior. After some years' +employment as a cow-herd, he was necessitated, in his twelfth year, to +break stones on the turnpike-road. At the recommendation of a comrade, +he apprenticed himself, early in 1824, to a weaver in a neighbouring +village. In his new profession he rapidly acquired dexterity, so that, +at the end of one year, he could earn the respectable weekly wages of +fifteen shillings. Desirous of assisting his aged parents, he now +purchased a loom and settled as a weaver on his own account, with his +elder brother as his apprentice. A period of mercantile embarrassments +which followed, severely affecting the manufacturing classes, pressed +heavily on the subject of this notice; his earnings became reduced to +six shillings weekly, and he was obliged to exchange the labours of the +shuttle for those of the implements of husbandry. During the period of +his apprenticeship, his thoughts had been turned to poetical +composition, but it was subsequent to the commercial disasters of 1825 +that he began earnestly to direct his attention towards the concerns of +literature. Successive periods of bad health unfitting him for continued +labour in the fields, were improved by extensive reading and +composition. Before he had completed his nineteenth year he had produced +upwards of twenty poetical compositions, each of considerable length, +and the whole replete with power, both of sentiment and expression. Till +considerably afterwards, however, his literary productions were only +known to his brother Alexander, or at furthest to his parents. "Up to +the latter part of 1835," writes his brother in a biographical sketch, +"the whole of his writing had been prosecuted as stealthily as if it had +been a crime punishable by law. There being but one apartment in the +house, it was his custom to write by the fire, with an old copy-book, +upon which his paper lay, resting on his knee, and this, through life, +was his only writing-desk. On the table, which was within reach, an old +newspaper was kept constantly lying, and as soon as the footsteps of any +one were heard approaching the door, copy-book, pens, and ink-stand +were thrust under this covering, and before the visitor came in, he had, +in general, a book in his hand, and appeared to have been reading." + +For a number of years Bethune had wrought as a day-labourer in the +grounds of Inchrye, in the vicinity of his birthplace. On the death of +the overseer on that property he was appointed his successor, entering +on the duties at the term of Martinmas 1835, his brother accompanying +him as his assistant. The appointment yielded L26 yearly, with the right +of a cow's pasturage--emoluments which considerably exceeded the average +of his previous earnings. To the duties of his new situation he applied +himself with his wonted industry, still continuing to dedicate only his +evenings and the intervals of toil to literary occupation. But his +comparative prosperity was of short duration. During the summer +following his appointment at Inchrye the estate changed owners, and the +new proprietor dispensed with his services at the next term. In another +year the landlord required the little cottage at Lochend, occupied by +his parents. Undaunted by these reverses, John Bethune and his brother +summoned stout courage; they erected a cottage at Mount Pleasant, near +Newburgh, the walls being mostly reared by their own hands. The future +career of Bethune was chiefly occupied in literary composition. He +became a contributor to the _Scottish Christian Herald_, _Wilson's Tales +of the Borders_, and other serial publications. In 1838 appeared "Tales +and Sketches of the Scottish Peasantry," the mutual production of the +poet and his brother--a work which, published in Edinburgh, was well +received. A work on "Practical Economy," on which the brothers had +bestowed much pains, and which had received the favourable opinion of +persons of literary eminence, was published in May 1839, but failed to +attract general interest. This unhappy result deeply affected the health +of the poet, whose constitution had already been much shattered by +repeated attacks of illness. He was seized with a complaint which proved +the harbinger of pulmonary consumption. He died at Mount Pleasant on the +1st September 1839, in his thirtieth year. + +With a more lengthened career, John Bethune would have attained a high +reputation, both as an interesting poet and an elegant prose-writer. His +genius was versatile and brilliant; of human nature, in all its +important aspects, he possessed an intuitive perception, and he was +practically familiar with the character and habits of the sons of +industry. His tales are touching and simple; his verses lofty and +contemplative. In sentiment eminently devotional, his life was a model +of genuine piety. His Poems, prefaced by an interesting Memoir, were +published by his surviving brother in 1840; and from the profits of a +second edition, published in the following year, a monument has been +erected over his grave in the churchyard of Abdie. + +FOOTNOTES: + +[26] Alexander Bethune, the elder brother of the poet, and his constant +companion and coadjutor in literary work, was born at Upper Rankeillor, +in the parish of Monimail, in July 1804. His education was limited to a +few months' attendance at a subscription school in his sixth year, with +occasional lessons from his parents. Like his younger brother, he +followed the occupation of a labourer, frequently working in the quarry +or breaking stones on the public road. Early contracting a taste for +literature, his leisure hours were devoted to reading and composition. +In 1835, several of his productions appeared in _Chambers' Edinburgh +Journal_. "Tales and Sketches of the Scottish Peasantry," a volume by +the brothers, of which the greater portion was written by Alexander, was +published in 1838; their joint-treatise on "Practical Economy" in the +year following. In 1843, Alexander published a small volume of tales, +entitled "The Scottish Peasant's Fireside," which was favourably +received. During the same year he was offered the editorship of the +_Dumfries Standard_ newspaper, with a salary of L100 a-year, but he was +unable to accept the appointment from impaired health. He died at Mount +Pleasant, near Newburgh, on the 13th June 1843, and his remains were +interred in his brother's grave in Abdie churchyard. An interesting +volume of his Memoirs, "embracing Selections from his Correspondence and +Literary Memoirs," was published in 1845 by Mr William M'Combie. + + + + +WITHER'D FLOWERS. + + + Adieu! ye wither'd flow'rets! + Your day of glory's past; + But your latest smile was loveliest, + For we knew it was your last. + No more the sweet aroma + Of your golden cups shall rise, + To scent the morning's stilly breath, + Or gloaming's zephyr-sighs. + + Ye were the sweetest offerings + Which Friendship could bestow-- + A token of devoted love + In pleasure or in woe! + Ye graced the head of infancy, + By soft affection twined + Into a fairy coronal + Its sunny brows to bind. + + * * * * * + + But ah! a dreary blast hath blown + Athwart you in your bloom, + And, pale and sickly, now your leaves + The hues of death assume. + We mourn your vanish'd loveliness, + Ye sweet departed flowers; + For ah! the fate which blighted you + An emblem is of ours. + + * * * * * + And though, like you, sweet flowers of earth, + We wither and depart, + And leave behind, to mourn our loss, + Full many an aching heart; + Yet when the winter of the grave + Is past, we hope to rise, + Warm'd by the Sun of Righteousness, + To blossom in the skies. + + + + +A SPRING SONG. + + + There is a concert in the trees, + There is a concert on the hill, + There 's melody in every breeze, + And music in the murmuring rill. + The shower is past, the winds are still, + The fields are green, the flow'rets spring, + The birds, and bees, and beetles fill + The air with harmony, and fling + The rosied moisture of the leaves + In frolic flight from wing to wing, + Fretting the spider as he weaves + His airy web from bough to bough; + In vain the little artist grieves + Their joy in his destruction now. + + Alas! that, in a scene so fair, + The meanest being e'er should feel + The gloomy shadow of despair + Or sorrow o'er his bosom steal. + But in a world where woe is real, + Each rank in life, and every day, + Must pain and suffering reveal, + And wretched mourners in decay-- + When nations smile o'er battles won, + When banners wave and streamers play, + The lonely mother mourns her son + Left lifeless on the bloody clay; + And the poor widow, all undone, + Sees the wild revel with dismay. + + Even in the happiest scenes of earth, + When swell'd the bridal-song on high, + When every voice was tuned to mirth, + And joy was shot from eye to eye, + I 've heard a sadly-stifled sigh; + And, 'mid the garlands rich and fair, + I 've seen a cheek, which once could vie + In beauty with the fairest there, + Grown deadly pale, although a smile + Was worn above to cloak despair. + Poor maid! it was a hapless wile + Of long-conceal'd and hopeless love + To hide a heart, which broke the while + With pangs no lighter heart could prove. + + The joyous spring and summer gay + With perfumed gifts together meet, + And from the rosy lips of May + Breathe music soft and odours sweet; + And still my eyes delay my feet + To gaze upon the earth and heaven, + And hear the happy birds repeat + Their anthems to the coming even; + Yet is my pleasure incomplete; + I grieve to think how few are given + To feel the pleasures I possess, + While thousand hearts, by sorrow riven, + Must pine in utter loneliness, + Or be to desperation driven. + + Oh! could we find some happy land, + Some Eden of the deep blue sea, + By gentle breezes only fann'd, + Upon whose soil, from sorrow free, + Grew only pure felicity! + Who would not brave the stormiest main + Within that blissful isle to be, + Exempt from sight or sense of pain? + There is a land we cannot see, + Whose joys no pen can e'er portray; + And yet, so narrow is the road, + From it our spirits ever stray-- + Shed light upon that path, O God! + And lead us in the appointed way. + + There only joy shall be complete, + More high than mortal thoughts can reach, + For there the just and good shall meet, + Pure in affection, thought, and speech; + No jealousy shall make a breach, + Nor pain their pleasure e'er alloy; + There sunny streams of gladness stretch, + And there the very air is joy. + There shall the faithful, who relied + On faithless love till life would cloy, + And those who sorrow'd till they died + O'er earthly pain and earthly woe, + See Pleasure, like a whelming tide, + From an unbounded ocean flow. + + + + +ALLAN STEWART. + + +Allan Stewart, a short-lived poet of no inconsiderable merit, was born +in the village of Houston, Renfrewshire, on the 30th January 1812. His +father prosecuted the humble vocation of a sawyer. Deprived of his +mother in early life, the loss was in some degree repaired by the kind +attentions of his maternal aunt, Martha Muir, whose letters on religious +subjects have been published. Receiving an ordinary education at school, +he followed the trade of a weaver in Paisley. His leisure hours were +employed in reading, and in the composition of verses. He died of typhus +fever, at Paisley, on the 12th November 1837, in his twenty-sixth year. +His "Poetical Remains" were published in 1838, in a thin duodecimo +volume, with a well-written biographical sketch from the pen of his +friend, Mr Charles Fleming. + +Stewart was a person of modest demeanour, and of a thoughtful and +somewhat melancholy cast. His verses are generally of a superior order; +his songs abound in sweetness of expression and elegance of sentiment. + + + + +THE SEA-BOY. + +AIR--_"The Soldier's Tear."_ + + + The storm grew faint as daylight tinged + The lofty billows' crest; + And love-lit hopes, with fears yet fringed, + Danced in the sea-boy's breast. + And perch'd aloft, he cheer'ly sung + To the billows' less'ning roar-- + "O Ellen, so fair, so free, and young, + I 'll see thee yet once more!" + + And O what joy beam'd in his eye, + When, o'er the dusky foam, + He saw, beneath the northern sky, + The hills that mark'd his home! + His heart with double ardour strung, + He sung this ditty o'er-- + "O Ellen, so fair, so free, and young, + I 'll see thee yet once more!" + + Now towers and trees rise on his sight, + And many a dear-loved spot; + And, smiling o'er the blue waves bright, + He saw young Ellen's cot. + The scenes on which his memory hung + A cheerful aspect wore; + He then, with joyous feeling, sung, + "I 'll see her yet once more!" + + The land they near'd, and on the beach + Stood many a female form; + But ah! his eye it could not reach + His hope in many a storm. + He through the spray impatient sprung, + And gain'd the wish'd-for shore; + But Ellen, so fair, so sweet, and young, + Was gone for evermore! + + + + +MENIE LORN. + + + While beaus and belles parade the streets + On summer gloamings gay, + And barter'd smiles and borrow'd sweets, + And all such vain display; + My walks are where the bean-field's breath + On evening's breeze is borne, + With her, the angel of my heart-- + My lovely Menie Lorn. + + Love's ambuscades her auburn hair, + Love's throne her azure eye, + Where peerless charms and virtues rare + In blended beauty lie. + The rose is fair at break of day, + And sweet the blushing thorn, + But sweeter, fairer far than they, + The smile of Menie Lorn. + + O tell me not of olive groves, + Where gold and gems abound; + Of deep blue eyes and maiden loves, + With every virtue crown'd. + I ask no other ray of joy + Life's desert to adorn, + Than that sweet bliss, which ne'er can cloy-- + The love of Menie Lorn. + + + + +THE YOUNG SOLDIER. + +AIR--_"The Banks of the Devon."_ + + + O say not o' war the young soldier is weary, + Ye wha in battle ha'e witness'd his flame; + Remember his daring when danger was near ye, + Forgive ye the sigh that he heaves for his hame. + Past perils he heeds not, nor dangers yet coming, + Frae dark-brooding terror his young heart is free; + But it pants for the place whar in youth he was roaming; + He turns to the north wi' the tear in his e'e. + + 'Tis remembrance that saftens what war never daunted, + 'Tis the hame o' his birth that gives birth to the tear; + The warm fondled hopes his first love had implanted, + He langs now to reap in his Jeanie sae dear. + An' aften he thinks on the bonnie clear burnie, + Whar oft in love's fondness they daff'd their young day; + Nae tear then was shedded, for short was the journey + 'Tween Jeanie's broom bower and the blaeberry brae. + + An' weel does he mind o' that morning, when dressing, + In green Highland garb, to cross the wide sea; + His auld mither grat when she gi'ed him her blessing-- + 'Twas a' that the puir body then had to gi'e. + The black downy plume on his bonnie cheek babbit, + As he stood at the door an' shook hands wi' them a'; + But sair was his heart, an' sair Jeanie sabbit, + Whan down the burn-side she convoy'd him awa'. + + Now high-headed Alps an' dark seas divide them, + Wilds ne'er imagined in love's early dream; + Their Alps then the knowes, whare the lambs lay beside them, + Their seas then the hazel an' saugh-shaded stream. + An' wha couldna sigh when memory 's revealing + The scenes that surrounded our life's early hame? + The hero whose heart is cauld to that feeling + His nature is harsh, and not worthy the name. + + + + +THE LAND I LOVE. + + + The land I lo'e, the land I lo'e, + Is the land of the plaid and bonnet blue, + Of the gallant heart, the firm and true, + The land of the hardy thistle. + + Isle of the freeborn, honour'd and blest, + Isle of beauty, in innocence dress'd, + The loveliest star on ocean's breast + Is the land of the hardy thistle. + + Fair are those isles of Indian bloom, + Whose flowers perpetual breathe perfume; + But dearer far are the braes o' broom + Where blooms the hardy thistle. + + No luscious fig-tree blossoms there, + No slaves the scented shrubb'ry rear; + Her sons are free as the mountain air + That shakes the hardy thistle. + + Lovely 's the tint o' an eastern sky, + And lovely the lands that 'neath it lie; + But I wish to live, and I wish to die + In the land of the hardy thistle! + + + + +ROBERT L. MALONE. + + +Robert L. Malone was a native of Anstruther, in Fife, where he was born +in 1812. His father was a captain in the navy, and afterwards was +employed in the Coast Guard. He ultimately settled at Rothesay, in Bute. +Receiving a common school education, Robert entered the navy in his +fourteenth year. He served on board the gun-brig _Marshall_, which +attended the Fisheries department in the west; next in the Mediterranean +ocean; and latterly in South America. Compelled, from impaired health, +to renounce the seafaring life, after a service of ten years, he +returned to his family at Rothesay, but afterwards settled in the town +of Greenock. In 1845, he became a clerk in the Long-room of the Customs +at Greenock, an appointment which he retained till nigh the period of +his death. A lover of poetry from his youth, he solaced the hours of +sickness by the composition of verses. He published, in 1845, a +duodecimo volume of poetry, entitled, "The Sailor's Dream, and other +Poems," a work which was well received. His death took place at Greenock +on the 6th of July 1850, in his thirty-eighth year. Of modest and +retiring dispositions, Malone was unambitious of distinction as a poet. +His style is bold and animated, and some of his pieces evince +considerable power. + + + + +THE THISTLE OF SCOTLAND. + +AIR--_"Humours o' Glen."_ + + + Though fair blooms the rose in gay Anglia's bowers, + And green be thy emblem, thou gem of the sea, + The greenest, the sweetest, the fairest of flowers, + Is the thistle--the thistle of Scotland, for me! + + Far lovelier flowers glow, the woodlands adorning, + And breathing perfume over moorland and lea, + But there breathes not a bud on the freshness of morning + Like the thistle--the thistle of Scotland, for me! + + What scenes o' langsyne even thy name can awaken, + Thou badge of the fearless, the fair, and the free, + And the tenderest chords of the spirit are shaken; + The thistle--the thistle of Scotland, for thee! + + Still'd be my harp, and forgotten its numbers, + And cold as the grave my affections must be, + Ere thy name fail to waken my soul from her slumbers; + The thistle--the thistle of Scotland, for me! + + On the fields of their fame, while proud laurels she gathers, + Caledonia plants, wi' the tear in her e'e, + Thy soft downy seeds on the graves of our fathers; + The thistle--the thistle of Scotland, for me! + + + + +HAME IS AYE HAMELY. + +AIR--_"Love's Young Dream."_ + + + Oh! hame is aye hamely still, though poor at times it be, + An' ye winna find a place like hame in lands beyond the sea; + Though ye may wander east an' west, in quest o' wealth or fame, + There 's aye a pulse within the heart beats hame, hame, hame, + Oh! there 's aye a pulse within the heart beats hame, hame, hame. + + There 's gowd in gowpens got, they say, on India's sunny strand, + Then wha would bear to linger here in this bleak, barren land? + I 'll hie me ower the heaving wave, and win myself a name, + And in a palace or a grave forget my Hieland hame. + + 'Twas thus resolved the peasant boy, and left his native stream, + And Fortune crown'd his every wish, beyond his fondest dream; + His good sword won him wealth and power and long and loud acclaim, + But could not banish from his thoughts his dear-loved mountain hame. + + No! The peasant's heart within the peer beat true to nature still, + For on his vision oft would rise the cottage on the hill; + And young companions, long forgot, would join him in the game, + As erst in life's young morning, around his Hieland hame. + + Oh! in the Brahmin, mild and gray, his father's face he saw; + He thought upon his mother's tears the day he gaed awa'; + And her he loved--his Hieland girl--there 's magic in the name-- + They a' combine to wile him back to his far Hieland hame. + + He sigh'd for kindred hearts again, and left the sunny lands, + And where his father's cottage stood a stately palace stands; + And with his grandchild on his knee--the old man's heart on flame-- + 'Tis thus he trains his darling boy to cherish thoughts of hame. + + Oh! hame is aye hamely, dear, though poor at times it be, + Ye winna find a spot like hame in lands beyond the sea; + Oh! ye may wander east or west, in quest o' wealth or fame, + But there 's aye a pulse within the heart beats hame, hame, hame, + Oh! there 's aye a pulse within the heart beats hame, hame, hame. + + + + +PETER STILL. + + +Peter Still was born in the parish of Fraserburgh, Aberdeenshire, on the +1st day of January 1814. At the time of his birth his father rented a +farm, but, being unfortunate, he was compelled to seek the support of +his family by manual labour. With a limited education at the +parish-school of Longside, whither his parents had removed, the subject +of this memoir was sent, in his eleventh year, to tend cattle. When +somewhat older, he found employment as a farm-servant; but having +married in his twentieth year, he afterwards followed the more +precarious occupation of a day-labourer. Of a delicate constitution, he +suffered much from impaired health, being frequently, for months +together, confined to the sick-chamber. During the periods of +convalescence from illness, he composed verses, which he gave to the +world in three separate publications. His last work--"The Cottar's +Sunday, and other Poems"--appeared in 1845, in a handsome duodecimo +volume. He closed a life of much privation and suffering at Peterhead, +on the 21st March 1848. + +Of sound religious principles and devoted Christian feeling, Still +meekly submitted to the bitterness of his lot in life. He was fortunate +in arresting the attention of some, who occasionally administered to his +wants, and contributed, by their patronage, to the increase of his +reputation. His verses are largely pervaded with poetical fervour and +religious sentiment, while his songs are generally true to nature. In +person he was tall and slender, of a long thin countenance, large dark +blue eyes, and curling black hair. + + + + +JEANIE'S LAMENT. + +AIR--_"Lord Gregory."_ + + + I never thocht to thole the waes + It 's been my lot to dree; + I never thocht to sigh sae sad + Whan first I sigh'd for thee. + I thocht your heart was like mine ain, + As true as true could be; + I couldna think there was a stain + In ane sae dear to me. + + Whan first amang the dewy flowers, + Aside yon siller stream, + My lowin' heart was press'd to yours, + Nae purer did they seem; + Nae purer seem'd the draps o' dew, + The flowers on whilk they hung, + Than seem'd the heart I felt in you + As to that heart I clung. + + But I was young an' thochtless then, + An' easy to beguile; + My mither's warnin's had nae weight + 'Bout man's deceitfu' smile. + But noo, alas! whan she is dead, + I 've shed the sad, saut tear, + And hung my heavy, heavy head + Aboon my father's bier! + + They saw their earthly hope betray'd, + They saw their Jeanie fade; + They couldna thole the heavy stroke, + An' baith are lowly laid! + Oh, Jamie! but thy name again + Shall ne'er be breathed by me, + For, speechless through yon gow'ny glen, + I 'll wander till I die. + + + + +YE NEEDNA' BE COURTIN' AT ME. + +AIR--_"John Todd."_ + + + "Ye needna' be courtin' at me, auld man, + Ye needna' be courtin' at me; + Ye 're threescore an' three, an' ye 're blin' o' an e'e, + Sae ye needna' be courtin' at me, auld man, + Ye needna' be courtin' at me. + + "Stan' aff, noo, an' just lat me be, auld man, + Stan' aff, noo, an' just lat me be; + Ye 're auld an' ye 're cauld, an' ye 're blin' an' ye 're bald, + An' ye 're nae for a lassie like me, auld man, + Ye 're nae for a lassie like me." + + "Ha'e patience, an' hear me a wee, sweet lass, + Ha'e patience, an' hear me a wee; + I 've gowpens o' gowd, an' an aumry weel stow'd, + An' a heart that lo'es nane but thee, sweet lass, + A heart that lo'es nane but thee. + + "I 'll busk you as braw as a queen, sweet lass, + I 'll busk you as braw as a queen; + I 've guineas to spare, an', hark ye, what 's mair, + I 'm only twa score an' fifteen, sweet lass, + Only twa score an' fifteen." + + "Gae hame to your gowd an' your gear, auld man, + Gae hame to your gowd an' your gear; + There 's a laddie I ken has a heart like mine ain, + An' to me he shall ever be dear, auld man, + To me he shall ever be dear. + + "Get aff, noo, an' fash me nae mair, auld man, + Get aff, noo, an' fash me nae mair; + There 's a something in love that your gowd canna move-- + I 'll be Johnie's although I gang bare, auld man, + I 'll be Johnie's although I gang bare." + + + + +THE BUCKET FOR ME. + + + The bucket, the bucket, the bucket for me! + Awa' wi' your bickers o' barley bree; + Though good ye may think it, I 'll never mair drink it-- + The bucket, the bucket, the bucket for me! + There 's health in the bucket, there 's wealth in the bucket, + There 's mair i' the bucket than mony can see; + An' aye whan I leuk in 't, I find there 's a beuk in 't + That teaches the essence o' wisdom to me. + + Whan whisky I swiggit, my wifie aye beggit, + An' aft did she sit wi' the tear in her e'e; + But noo--wad you think it?--whan water I drink it + Right blithesome she smiles on the bucket an' me. + The bucket 's a treasure nae mortal can measure, + It 's happit my wee bits o' bairnies an' me; + An' noo roun' my ingle, whare sorrows did mingle, + I 've pleasure, an' plenty, an' glances o' glee. + + The bucket 's the bicker that keeps a man sicker, + The bucket 's a shield an' a buckler to me; + In pool or in gutter nae langer I 'll splutter, + But walk like a freeman wha feels he is free. + + Ye drunkards, be wise noo, an' alter your choice noo-- + Come cling to the bucket, an' prosper like me; + Ye 'll find it is better to swig "caller water," + Than groan in a gutter without a bawbee! + + + + +ROBERT NICOLL. + + +One of the most gifted and hopeful of modern Scottish song writers, +Robert Nicoll, was born at Little Tulliebeltane, in the parish of +Auchtergaven, Perthshire, on the 7th January 1814. Of a family of nine +children, he was the second son. His father, who bore the same Christian +name, rented a farm at the period of his birth and for five years +afterwards, when, involved in an affair of cautionary, he was reduced to +the condition of an agricultural labourer. Young Nicoll received the +rudiments of his education from his mother, a woman of superior +shrewdness and information; subsequently to his seventh year he tended +cattle in the summer months, to procure the means of attending the +parish school during the other portion of the year. From his childhood +fond of reading, books were his constant companions--in the field, on +the highway, and during the intervals of leisure in his father's +cottage. In his thirteenth year, he wrote verses and became the +correspondent of a newspaper. Apprenticed to a grocer and wine-merchant +in Perth, and occupied in business from seven o'clock morning till nine +o'clock evening, he prosecuted mental culture by abridging the usual +hours of rest. At the age of nineteen he communicated a tale to +_Johnstone's Magazine_, an Edinburgh periodical, which was inserted, and +attracted towards him the notice of Mr Johnstone, the ingenious +proprietor. By this gentleman he was introduced, during a visit he made +to the capital, to some men of letters, who subsequently evinced a warm +interest in his career. + +In 1834, Nicoll opened a small circulating library in Dundee, occupying +his spare time in reading and composition, and likewise taking part in +public meetings convened for the support of Radical or extreme liberal +opinions. To the liberal journals of the town he became a frequent +contributor both in prose and verse, and in 1835 appeared as the author +of a volume of "Poems and Lyrics." This publication was highly esteemed +by his friends, and most favourably received by the press. Abandoning +business in Dundee, which had never been prosperous, he meditated +proceeding as a literary adventurer to London, but was induced by Mr +Tait, his friendly publisher, and some other well-wishers, to remain in +Edinburgh till a suitable opening should occur. In the summer of 1836 he +was appointed editor of the _Leeds Times_ newspaper, with a salary of +L100. The politics of this journal were Radical, and to the exposition +and advocacy of these opinions he devoted himself with equal ardour and +success. But the unremitting labour of conducting a public journal soon +began materially to undermine the energies of a constitution which, +never robust, had been already impaired by a course of untiring literary +occupation. The excitement of a political contest at Leeds, during a +general parliamentary election, completed the physical prostration of +the poet; he removed from Leeds to Knaresborough, and from thence to +Laverock Bank, near Edinburgh, the residence of his friend Mr Johnstone. +His case was hopeless; after lingering a short period in a state of +entire prostration, he departed this life in December 1837, in his +twenty-fourth year. His remains, attended by a numerous assemblage, were +consigned to the churchyard of North Leith. + +Possessed of strong poetical genius, Robert Nicoll has attained a +conspicuous and honoured niche in the temple of the national minstrelsy. +Several of his songs, especially "Bonnie Bessie Lee" and "Orde Braes," +have obtained an equal popularity with the best songs of Burns. Since +the period of his death, four different editions of his "Poems" have +been called for. The work has latterly been published by the Messrs +Blackie of Glasgow in a handsome form, prefaced by an interesting +memoir. Nicoll's strain is eminently smooth and simple; and, though many +of his lyrics published after his decease had not the benefit of his +revision, he never falls into mediocrity. Of extensive sympathies, he +portrays the loves, hopes, and fears of the human heart; while he +depicts nature only in her loveliness. His sentiments breathe a devoted +and simple piety, the index of an unblemished life. In person Nicoll was +rather above the middle height, with a slight stoop. His countenance, +which was of a sanguine complexion, was thoughtful and pleasing; his +eyes were of a deep blue, and his hair dark brown. In society he was +modest and unobtrusive, but was firm and uncompromising in the +maintenance of his opinions. His political views were founded on the +belief that the industrial classes had suffered oppression from the +aristocracy. The solace of his hours of leisure were the songs and music +of his country. He married shortly prior to his decease, but was not +long survived by his widow. A monument to his memory, towards which +nearly L100 has lately been subscribed, is about to be erected on the +Orde Braes, in his native parish. + + + + +ORDE BRAES. + + + There 's nae hame like the hame o' youth, + Nae ither spot sae fair; + Nae ither faces look sae kind + As the smilin' faces there. + An' I ha'e sat by mony streams, + Ha'e travell'd mony ways; + But the fairest spot on the earth to me + Is on bonnie Orde Braes. + + An ell-lang wee thing then I ran + Wi' the ither neeber bairns, + To pu' the hazel's shining nuts, + An' to wander 'mang the ferns; + An' to feast on the bramble-berries brown, + An' gather the glossy slaes, + By the burnie's side, an' aye sinsyne + I ha'e loved sweet Orde Braes. + + The memories o' my father's hame, + An' its kindly dwellers a', + O' the friends I loved wi' a young heart's love + Ere care that heart could thraw, + Are twined wi' the stanes o' the silver burn, + An' its fairy crooks an' bays, + That onward sang 'neath the gowden broom + Upon bonnie Orde Braes. + + Aince in a day there were happy hames + By the bonnie Orde's side: + Nane ken how meikle peace an' love + In a straw-roof'd cot can bide. + But thae hames are gane, an' the hand o' time + The roofless wa's doth raze; + Laneness an' sweetness hand in hand + Gang ower the Orde Braes. + + Oh! an' the sun were shinin' now, + An', oh! an' I were there, + Wi' twa three friends o' auld langsyne, + My wanderin' joy to share. + For though on the hearth o' my bairnhood's hame + The flock o' the hills doth graze, + Some kind hearts live to love me yet + Upon bonnie Orde Braes. + + + + +THE MUIR O' GORSE AND BROOM. + + + I winna bide in your castle ha's, + Nor yet in your lofty towers; + My heart is sick o' your gloomy hame, + An' sick o' your darksome bowers; + An' oh! I wish I were far awa' + Frae their grandeur an' their gloom, + Where the freeborn lintie sings its sang + On the Muir o' Gorse an' Broom. + + Sae weel as I like the healthfu' gale, + That blaws fu' kindly there, + An' the heather brown, an' the wild blue-bell + That wave on the muirland bare; + An' the singing birds, an' the humming bees, + An' the little lochs that toom + Their gushing burns to the distant sea + O'er the Muir o' Gorse an' Broom. + + Oh! if I had a dwallin' there, + Biggit laigh by a burnie's side, + Where ae aik tree, in the summer time, + Wi' its leaves that hame might hide; + Oh! I wad rejoice frae day to day, + As blithe as a young bridegroom; + For dearer than palaces to me + Is the Muir o' Gorse an' Broom! + + In a lanely cot on a muirland wild, + My mither nurtured me; + O' the meek wild-flowers I playmates made, + An' my hame wi' the wandering bee. + An', oh! if I were far awa' + Frae your grandeur an' your gloom, + Wi' them again, an' the bladden gale, + On the Muir o' Gorse an' Broom. + + + + +THE BONNIE HIELAND HILLS. + + + Oh! the bonnie Hieland hills, + Oh! the bonnie Hieland hills, + The bonnie hills o' Scotland O! + The bonnie Hieland hills. + + There are lands on the earth where the vine ever blooms, + Where the air that is breathed the sweet orange perfumes; + But mair dear is the blast the lane shepherd that chills + As it wantons along o'er our ain Hieland hills. + Oh! the bonnie Hieland hills. + + There are rich garden lands wi' their skies ever fair; + But o' riches or beauty we mak na our care; + Wherever we wander ae vision aye fills + Our hearts to the burstin'--our ain Hieland hills. + Oh! the bonnie Hieland hills. + + In our lone and deep valleys fair maidens there are, + Though born in the midst o' the elements' war; + O sweet are the damsels that sing by our rills, + As they dash to the sea frae our ain Hieland hills. + Oh! the bonnie Hieland hills. + + On the moss-cover'd rock wi' their broadswords in hand, + To fight for fair freedom, their sons ever stand; + A storm-nursed bold spirit each warm bosom fills, + That guards frae a' danger our ain Hieland hills. + Oh! the bonnie Hieland hills, + Oh! the bonnie Hieland hills; + The bonnie hills o' Scotland O! + The bonnie Hieland hills. + + + + +THE BONNIE ROWAN BUSH. + + + The bonnie rowan bush + In yon lane glen, + Where the burnie clear doth gush + In yon lane glen; + My head is white and auld, + An' my bluid is thin an' cauld; + But I lo'e the bonnie rowan bush + In yon lane glen. + + My Jeanie first I met + In yon lane glen, + When the grass wi' dew was wet + In yon lane glen; + The moon was shining sweet, + An' our hearts wi' love did beat, + By the bonnie, bonnie rowan bush + In yon lane glen. + + Oh! she promised to be mine, + In yon lane glen; + Her heart she did resign, + In yon lane glen; + An' mony a happy day + Did o'er us pass away, + Beside the bonnie rowan bush + In yon lane glen. + + Sax bonnie bairns had we + In yon lane glen-- + Lads an' lassies young an' spree, + In yon lane glen; + An' a blither family + Than ours there cou'dna be, + Beside the bonnie rowan bush + In yon lane glen. + + Now my auld wife's gane awa' + Frae yon lane glen, + An' though summer sweet doth fa' + On yon lane glen-- + To me its beauty's gane, + For, alake! I sit alane + Beside the bonnie rowan bush + In yon lane glen. + + + + +BONNIE BESSIE LEE. + + + Bonnie Bessie Lee had a face fu' o' smiles, + And mirth round her ripe lip was aye dancing slee; + And light was the footfa', and winsome the wiles, + O' the flower o' the parochin, our ain Bessie Lee! + Wi' the bairns she would rin, and the school laddies paik, + And o'er the broomy braes like a fairy would flee, + Till auld hearts grew young again wi' love for her sake-- + There was life in the blithe blink o' bonnie Bessie Lee! + + She grat wi' the waefu', and laughed wi' the glad, + And light as the wind 'mang the dancers was she; + And a tongue that could jeer, too, the little limmer had, + Whilk keepit aye her ain side for bonnie Bessie Lee! + She could sing like the lintwhite that sports 'mang the whins, + An' sweet was her note as the bloom to the bee-- + It has aft thrilled my heart whaur our wee burnie rins, + Where a' thing grew fairer wi' bonnie Bessie Lee.[27] + + And she whiles had a sweetheart, and sometimes had twa, + A limmer o' a lassie; but atween you and me, + Her warm wee bit heartie she ne'er threw awa', + Though mony a ane had sought it frae bonnie Bessie Lee. + But ten years had gane since I gazed on her last-- + For ten years had parted my auld hame and me-- + And I said to mysel', as her mither's door I passed, + Will I ever get anither kiss frae bonnie Bessie Lee? + + But Time changes a' thing--the ill-natured loon! + Were it ever sae rightly, he 'll no let it be; + And I rubbit at my e'en, and I thought I would swoon, + How the carle had come roun' about our ain Bessie Lee! + The wee laughing lassie was a gudewife grown auld, + Twa weans at her apron, and ane on her knee, + She was douce too, and wise-like--and wisdom's sae cauld; + I would rather hae the ither ane than this Bessie Lee. + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[27] The last four lines of this stanza are not the production of +Nicoll, but have been contributed for the present work by Mr Alexander +Wilson, of Perth. The insertion of the lines prevents the occurrence of +a half stanza, which has hitherto interfered with the singing of this +popular song. + + + + +ARCHIBALD STIRLING IRVING. + + +Archibald Stirling Irving was born in Edinburgh on the 18th of December +1816. His father, John Irving, Writer to the Signet, was the intimate +early friend of Sir Walter Scott, and is "the prosperous gentleman" +referred to in the general Introduction to the Waverley Novels. Having a +delicate constitution, young Irving was unable to follow any regular +profession, but devoted himself, when health permitted, to the concerns +of literature. He made himself abundantly familiar with the Latin +classics, and became intimately conversant with the more distinguished +British poets. Possessed of a remarkably retentive memory, he could +repeat some of the longest poems in the language. Receiving a handsome +annuity from his father, he resided in various of the more interesting +localities of Scottish scenery, some of which he celebrated in verse. He +published anonymously, in 1841, a small volume of "Original Songs," of +which the song selected for the present work may be regarded as a +favourable specimen. He died at Newmills, near Ardrossan, on the 20th +September 1851, in his thirty-fifth year. Some time before his death, he +exclusively devoted himself to serious reflection and Scriptural +reading. He married in October 1850, and his widow still survives. + + + + +THE WILD-ROSE BLOOMS. + +TUNE--_"Caledonia."_ + + + The wild-rose blooms in Drummond woods, + The trees are blossom'd fair, + The lake is smiling to the sun, + And Mary wand'ring there. + The powers that watch'd o'er Mary's birth + Did nature's charms despoil; + They stole for her the rose's blush, + The sweet lake's dimpled smile. + + The lily for her breast they took, + Nut-brown her locks appear; + But when they came to make her eyes, + They robb'd the starry sphere. + But cruel sure was their design, + Or mad-like their device-- + For while they filled her eyes with fire, + They made her heart of ice. + + + + +ALEXANDER A. RITCHIE.[28] + + +Alexander Abernethy Ritchie, author of "The Wells o' Wearie," was born +in the Canongate, Edinburgh, in 1816. In early youth he evinced a lively +appreciation of the humorous and the pathetic, and exhibited remarkable +artistic talent, sketching from nature with fidelity and ease. His +parents being in humble circumstances, he was apprenticed as a +house-painter, and soon became distinguished for his skill in the +decorative branch of his profession. On the expiry of his +apprenticeship, he cultivated painting in a higher department of the +art, and his pictures held a highly respectable place at the annual +exhibitions of the Scottish Academy. Among his pictures which became +favourites may be mentioned the "Wee Raggit Laddie," "The Old Church +Road," "The Gaberlunzie," "Tak' your Auld Cloak about ye," and "The +Captive Truant." His illustrations of his friend, Mr James Ballantine's +works, "The Gaberlunzie's Wallet" and "The Miller of Deanhaugh," and of +some other popular works, evince a lively fancy and keen appreciation of +character. He executed a number of water-colour sketches of the more +picturesque and interesting lanes and alleys of Edinburgh; and +contributed to the _Illustrated London News_ representations of +remarkable events as they occurred in the Scottish capital. He died +suddenly at St John's Hill, Canongate, Edinburgh, in 1850, in the +thirty-fourth year of his age. Ritchie was possessed of a vast fund of +humour, and was especially esteemed for the simplicity of his manners +and his kindly dispositions. He excelled in reading poetry, whether +dramatic or descriptive, and sung his own songs with intense feeling. He +lived with his aged mother, whom he regarded with dutiful affection, and +who survives to lament his loss. Shortly before his death he composed +the following hymn, which has been set to appropriate music:-- + + Father of blissfulness, + Grant me a resting-place + Now my sad spirit is longing for rest. + Lord, I beseech Thee, + Deign Thou to teach me + Which path to heaven is surest and best: + Lonely and dreary, + Laden and weary, + Oh! for a home in the land of the blest! + + Father of holiness, + Look on my lowliness; + From this sad bondage, O Lord, set me free; + Grant that, 'mid love and peace, + Sorrow and sin may cease, + While in the Saviour my trust it shall be. + When Death's sleep comes o'er me, + On waking--before me + The portals of glory all open I 'll see. + +FOOTNOTES: + +[28] We are indebted to Mr James Ballantine, of Edinburgh, for the +particulars contained in this memoir. + + + + +THE WELLS O' WEARIE. + +AIR--_"Bonnie House o' Airlie."_ + + + Sweetly shines the sun on auld Edinbro' toun, + And mak's her look young and cheerie; + Yet I maun awa' to spend the afternoon + At the lanesome Wells o' Wearie. + + And you maun gang wi' me, my winsome Mary Grieve, + There 's nought in the world to fear ye; + For I ha'e ask'd your minnie, and she has gi'en ye leave + To gang to the Wells o' Wearie. + + Oh, the sun winna blink in thy bonnie blue e'en, + Nor tinge the white brow o' my dearie, + For I 'll shade a bower wi' rashes lang and green + By the lanesome Wells o' Wearie. + + But, Mary, my love, beware ye dinna glower + At your form in the water sae clearly, + Or the fairy will change you into a wee, wee flower, + And you 'll grow by the Wells o' Wearie. + + Yestreen as I wander'd there a' alane, + I felt unco douf and drearie, + For wanting my Mary, a' around me was but pain + At the lanesome Wells o' Wearie. + + Let fortune or fame their minions deceive, + Let fate look gruesome and eerie; + True glory and wealth are mine wi' Mary Grieve, + When we meet by the Wells o' Wearie. + + Then gang wi' me, my bonnie Mary Grieve, + Nae danger will daur to come near ye; + For I ha'e ask'd your minnie, and she has gi'en ye leave, + To gang to the Wells o' Wearie. + + + + +ALEXANDER LAING. + + +One of the simplest and most popular of the living national +song-writers, Alexander Laing, was born at Brechin on the 14th May 1787. +His father, James Laing, was an agricultural labourer. With the +exception of two winters' schooling, he was wholly self-taught. Sent to +tend cattle so early as his eighth year, he regularly carried books and +writing-materials with him to the fields. His books were procured by the +careful accumulation of the halfpence bestowed on him by the admirers of +his juvenile tastes. In his sixteenth year, he entered on the business +of a flax-dresser, in his native town--an occupation in which he was +employed for a period of fourteen years. He afterwards engaged in +mercantile concerns, and has latterly retired from business. He now +resides at Upper Tenements, Brechin, in the enjoyment of a well-earned +competency. + +Mr Laing early wrote verses. In 1819, several songs from his pen +appeared in the "Harp of Caledonia"--a respectable collection of +minstrelsy, edited by John Struthers. He subsequently became a +contributor to the "Harp of Renfrewshire" and the "Scottish Minstrel," +edited by R. A. Smith. His lyrics likewise adorn the pages of +Robertson's "Whistle Binkie" and the "Book of Scottish Song." He +published, in 1846, a collected edition of his poems and songs, in a +duodecimo volume, under the designation of "Wayside Flowers." A second +edition appeared in 1850. He has been an occasional contributor to the +local journals; furnished a number of anecdotes for the "Laird of +Logan," a humorous publication of the west of Scotland; and has compiled +some useful elementary works for the use of Sabbath-schools. His lyrics +are uniformly pervaded by graceful simplicity, and the chief themes of +his inspiration are love and patriotism. Than his song entitled "My Ain +Wife," we do not know a lay more beautifully simple. His "Hopeless +Exile" is the perfection of tenderness. + + + + +AE HAPPY HOUR. + +AIR--_"The Cock Laird."_ + + + The dark gray o' gloamin', + The lone leafy shaw, + The coo o' the cushat, + The scent o' the haw; + The brae o' the burnie, + A' bloomin' in flower, + An' twa' faithfu' lovers, + Make ae happy hour. + + A kind winsome wifie, + A clean canty hame, + An' smilin' sweet babies + To lisp the dear name; + Wi' plenty o' labour, + An' health to endure, + Make time to row round aye + The ae happy hour. + + Ye lost to affection, + Whom avarice can move + To woo an' to marry + For a' thing but love; + Awa' wi' your sorrows, + Awa' wi' your store, + Ye ken na the pleasure + O' ae happy hour. + + + + +LASS, GIN YE WAD LO'E ME. + +AIR--_"Lass, gin I come near you."_ + + + "Lass, gin ye wad lo'e me, + Lass, gin ye wad lo'e me, + Ye'se be ladye o' my ha', + Lass, gin ye wad lo'e me. + A canty but, a cosie ben, + Weel plenish'd ye may trow me; + A brisk, a blithe, a kind gudeman-- + Lass, gin ye wad lo'e me!" + + "Walth, there 's little doubt ye ha'e, + An' bidin' bein an' easy; + But brisk an' blithe ye canna be, + An' you sae auld an' crazy. + Wad marriage mak' you young again? + Wad woman's love renew you? + Awa', ye silly doitet man, + I canna, winna lo'e you!" + + "Witless hizzie, e'en 's you like, + The ne'er a doit I 'm carin'; + But men maun be the first to speak, + An' wanters maun be speerin'. + Yet, lassie, I ha'e lo'ed you lang, + An' now I'm come to woo you; + I 'm no sae auld as clashes gang, + I think you 'd better lo'e me." + + "Doitet bodie! auld or young, + Ye needna langer tarry, + Gin ane be loutin' o'er a rung, + He 's no for me to marry. + Gae hame an' ance bethink yoursel' + How ye wad come to woo me, + An' mind me i' your latter-will, + Bodie, gin ye lo'e me!" + + + + +LASS OF LOGIE. + +AIR--_"Lass of Arranteenie."_ + + + I 've seen the smiling summer flower + Amang the braes of Yarrow; + I 've heard the raving winter wind + Amang the hills of Barra; + I 've wander'd Scotland o'er and o'er, + Frae Teviot to Strathbogie; + But the bonniest lass that I ha'e seen + Is bonnie Jean of Logie. + + Her lips were like the heather bloom, + In meekest dewy morning; + Her cheeks were like the ruddy leaf, + The bloomy brier adorning; + Her brow was like the milky flower + That blossoms in the bogie; + And love was laughing in her een-- + The bonnie lass of Logie. + + I said, "My lassie, come wi' me, + My hand, my hame are ready; + I ha'e a lairdship of my ain, + And ye shall be my ladye. + I 've ilka thing baith out and in, + To make you blithe and vogie;" + She hung her head and sweetly smiled-- + The bonnie lass of Logie! + + But she has smiled, and fate has frown'd, + And wrung my heart with sorrow; + The bonnie lass sae dear to me + Can never be my marrow. + For, ah! she loves another lad-- + The ploughman wi' his cogie; + Yet happy, happy may she be, + The bonnie lass of Logie! + + + + +MY AIN WIFE. + +AIR--_"John Anderson, my Jo."_ + + + I wadna gi'e my ain wife + For ony wife I see; + For, Oh! my dainty ain wife, + She 's aye sae dear to me. + A bonnier yet I 've never seen, + A better canna be; + I wadna gi'e my ain wife + For ony wife I see. + + Though beauty is a fadin' flower, + As fadin' as it 's fair, + It looks fu' well in ony wife, + An' mine has a' her share. + She ance was ca'd a bonnie lass-- + She 's bonnie aye to me; + I wadna gi'e my ain wife + For ony wife I see. + + Oh, couthy is my ingle-cheek, + An' cheery is my Jean; + I never see her angry look, + Nor hear her word on ane. + She 's gude wi' a' the neebours roun', + An' aye gude wi' me; + I wadna gi'e my ain wife + For ony wife I see. + + But Oh, her looks sae kindly, + They melt my heart outright, + When ower the baby at her breast + She hangs wi' fond delight. + She looks intill its bonnie face, + An' syne looks to me; + I wadna gi'e my ain wife + For ony wife I see. + + + + +THE MAID O' MONTROSE. + +AIR--_"O tell me the Way for to Woo."_ + + + O sweet is the calm dewy gloaming, + When saftly by Rossie-wood brae, + The merle an' mavis are hymning + The e'en o' the lang summer's day! + An' sweet are the moments when o'er the blue ocean, + The full moon arising in majesty glows; + An' I, breathing o'er ilka tender emotion, + Wi' my lovely Mary, the Maid o' Montrose. + + The fopling sae fine an' sae airy, + Sae fondly in love wi' himsel', + Is proud wi' his ilka new dearie, + To shine at the fair an' the ball; + But gie me the grove where the broom's yellow blossom + Waves o'er the white lily an' red smiling rose, + An' ae bonnie lassie to lean on my bosom-- + My ain lovely Mary, the Maid o' Montrose. + + O what is the haill warld's treasure, + Gane nane o' its pleasures we prove? + An' where can we taste o' true pleasure, + Gin no wi' the lassie we love? + O sweet are the smiles an' the dimples o' beauty, + Where lurking the loves an' the graces repose; + An' sweet is the form an' the air o' the pretty, + But sweeter is Mary, the Maid o' Montrose. + + O Mary, 'tis no for thy beauty, + Though few are sae bonnie as thee; + O Mary, 'tis no for thy beauty, + Though handsome as woman can be. + The rose bloom is gane when the chill autumn's low'ring; + The aik's stately form when the wild winter blows; + But the charms o' the mind are the ties mair enduring-- + These bind me to Mary, the Maid o' Montrose. + + + + +JEAN OF ABERDEEN. + +AIR--_"Miss Forbes's Farewell to Banff."_ + + + Ye 've seen the blooming rosy brier, + On stately Dee's wild woody knowes; + Ye 've seen the op'ning lily fair, + In streamy Don's gay broomy howes: + An' ilka bonnie flower that grows, + Amang their banks and braes sae green-- + These borrow a' their finest hues + Frae lovely Jean of Aberdeen. + + Ye 've seen the dew-ey'd bloomy haw, + When morning gilds the welkin high; + Ye 've heard the breeze o' summer blaw, + When e'ening steals alang the sky. + But brighter far is Jeanie's eye, + When we 're amang the braes alane, + An' softer is the bosom-sigh + Of lovely Jean of Aberdeen. + + Though I had a' the valleys gay, + Around the airy Bennochie; + An' a' the fleecy flocks that stray + Amang the lofty hills o' Dee; + While Mem'ry lifts her melting ee, + An' Hope unfolds her fairy scene, + My heart wi' them I'd freely gie + To lovely Jean of Aberdeen. + + + + +THE HOPELESS EXILE. + +AIR--_"Alas! for Poor Teddy Macshane."_ + + + Oh! where has the exile his home? + Oh! where has the exile his home? + Where the mountain is steep, + Where the valley is deep, + Where the waves of the Ohio foam; + Where no cheering smile + His woes may beguile-- + Oh! there has the exile his home. + + Oh! when will the exile return? + Oh! when will the exile return? + When our hearts heave no sigh, + When our tears shall be dry, + When Erin no longer shall mourn; + When his name we disown, + When his mem'ry is gone-- + Oh! then will the exile return! + + + + +GLEN-NA-H'ALBYN.[29] + +AIR--_"O rest thee, my Darling."_ + + + On the airy Ben-Nevis the wind is awake, + The boat 's on the shallow, the ship on the lake; + Ah! now in a moment my country I leave; + The next I am far away--far on the wave! + Oh! fare thee well, fare thee well, Glen-na-h'Albyn! + Oh! fare thee well, fare thee well, Glen-na-h'Albyn! + + I was proud of the power and the fame of my chief, + And to build up his House was the aim of my life; + And now in his greatness he turns me away, + When my strength is decay'd and my locks worn gray. + Oh! fare thee well! + + Farewell the gray stones of my ancestors' graves, + I go to my place 'neath the foam of the waves; + Or to die unlamented on Canada's shore, + Where none of my fathers were gathered before! + Oh! fare thee well, fare thee well, Glen-na-h'Albyn! + Oh! fare thee well, fare thee well, Glen-na-h'Albyn! + +FOOTNOTES: + +[29] "Glen-na-h'Albyn, or Glen-more-na-h'Albyn, the great Glen of +Caledonia, is a name applied to the valley which runs in a direction +from north-east to south-west, the whole breadth of the kingdom, from +the Moray Firth at Inverness to the Sound of Mull below Fort-William, +and is almost filled with lakes." + + + + +ALEXANDER CARLILE. + + +Alexander Carlile was born at Paisley in the year 1788. His progenitors +are said to have been remarkable for their acquaintance with the arts, +and relish for elegant literature. His eldest brother, the late Dr +Carlile of Dublin attained much eminence as a profound thinker and an +accomplished theologian. Having received a liberal education, first at +the grammar-school of Paisley, and afterwards in the University of +Glasgow, the subject of this sketch settled as a manufacturer in his +native town. Apart from the avocations of business, much of his time has +been devoted to the concerns of literature; he has contributed to the +more esteemed periodicals, and composed verses for several works on the +national minstrelsy. At an early period he composed the spirited and +popular song, beginning "Oh, wha's at the window, wha, wha?" which has +since obtained a place in all the collections. His only separate +publication, a duodecimo volume of "Poems," appeared in 1855, and has +been favourably received. Mr Carlile is much devoted to the interests of +his native town, and has sedulously endeavoured to promote the moral and +social welfare of his fellow-townsmen. His unobtrusive worth and elegant +accomplishments have endeared him to a wide circle of friends. His +latter poetical compositions have been largely pervaded by religious +sentiment. + + + + +WHA'S AT THE WINDOW?[30] + + + Oh, wha's at the window, wha, wha? + Oh, wha's at the window, wha, wha? + Wha but blithe Jamie Glen, + He 's come sax miles and ten, + To tak' bonnie Jeannie awa, awa, + To tak' bonnie Jeannie awa. + + He has plighted his troth, and a', and a', + Leal love to gi'e, and a', and a', + And sae has she dune, + By a' that 's abune, + For he lo'es her, she lo'es him, 'bune a', 'bune a', + He lo'es her, she lo'es him, 'bune a'. + + Bridal-maidens are braw, braw, + Bridal-maidens are braw, braw, + But the bride's modest e'e, + And warm cheek are to me + 'Bune pearlins, and brooches, and a', and a', + 'Bune pearlins, and brooches, and a'. + + It 's mirth on the green, in the ha', the ha', + It 's mirth on the green, in the ha', the ha'; + There 's quaffing and laughing, + There 's dancing and daffing, + And the bride's father 's blithest of a', of a', + The bride's father 's blithest of a'. + + It 's no that she 's Jamie's ava, ava, + It 's no that she 's Jamie's ava, ava, + That my heart is sae eerie + When a' the lave 's cheerie, + But it 's just that she 'll aye be awa, awa, + It 's just that she 'll aye be awa. + +FOOTNOTES: + +[30] The title of this song seems to have been suggested by that of a +ballad recovered by Cromek, and published in his "Remains of Nithsdale +and Galloway Song," p. 219. The first line of the old ballad runs thus: +"Oh, who is this under my window."--ED. + + + + +MY BROTHERS ARE THE STATELY TREES. + + + My brothers are the stately trees + That in the forests grow; + The simple flowers my sisters are, + That on the green bank blow. + With them, with them, I am a child + Whose heart with mirth is dancing wild. + + The daisy, with its tear of joy, + Gay greets me as I stray; + How sweet a voice of welcome comes + From every trembling spray! + How light, how bright, the golden-wing'd hours + I spend among those songs and flowers! + + I love the Spirit of the Wind, + His varied tones I know; + His voice of soothing majesty, + Of love and sobbing woe; + Whate'er his varied theme may be, + With his my spirit mingles free. + + I love to tread the grass-green path, + Far up the winding stream; + For there in nature's loneliness, + The day is one bright dream. + And still the pilgrim waters tell + Of wanderings wild by wood and dell. + + Or up the mountain's brow I toil + Beneath a wid'ning sky, + Seas, forests, lakes, and rivers wide, + Crowding the wondering eye. + Then, then, my soul on eagle's wings, + To cloudless regions upwards springs! + + The stars--the stars! I know each one, + With all its soul of love, + They beckon me to come and live + In their tearless homes above; + And then I spurn earth's songs and flowers, + And pant to breathe in heaven's own bowers. + + + + +THE VALE OF KILLEAN. + + + O yes, there 's a valley as calm and as sweet + As that vale in whose bosom the bright waters meet; + So bland in its beauty, so rich in its green, + 'Mid Scotia's dark mountains--the Vale of Killean. + + The flocks on its soft lap so peacefully roam, + The stream seeks the deep lake as the child seeks its home, + That has wander'd all day, to its lullaby close, + Singing blithe 'mid the wild-flowers, and fain would repose. + + How solemn the broad hills that curtain around + This sanctuary of nature, 'mid a wilderness found, + Whose echoes low whisper, "Bid the world farewell, + And with lowly contentment here peacefully dwell!" + + Then build me a cot by that lake's verdant shore, + 'Mid the world's wild turmoil I 'll mingle no more, + And the tidings evoking the sigh and the tear, + Of man's crimes and his follies, no more shall I hear. + + Young Morn, as on tiptoe he ushers the day, + Will teach fading Hope to rekindle her ray; + And pale Eve, with her rapture tear, soft will impart + To the soul her own meekness--a rich glow to the heart. + + The heavings of passion all rocked to sweet rest, + As repose its still waters, so repose shall this breast; + And 'mid brightness and calmness my spirit shall rise, + Like the mist from the mountain to blend with the skies. + + + + +JOHN NEVAY. + + +John Nevay, the bard of Forfar, was born in that town on the 28th of +January 1792. He was educated at the schools of his native place, and +considerably improved himself in classical learning, at an early age, +under the tuition of Mr James Clarke, sometime master of the Burgh +School, and the friend and correspondent of Burns. Fond of solitary +rambles in the country, he began, while a mere youth, to portray in +verse his impressions of the scenery which he was in the habit of +surveying. He celebrated the green fields, the lochs and mountains near +the scene of his nativity, and was rewarded with the approving smiles of +the family circle. Acquiring facility in the production of verses, he +was at length induced to venture on a publication. In 1818 he gave to +the world a "Pamphlet of Rhymes," which, obtaining a ready sale, induced +him to publish a second small collection of verses in 1821. After an +interval devoted to mental improvement, he appeared, in 1834, as the +author of "The Peasant, a Poem in Nine Cantos, with other Poems," in one +volume, 12mo. In the following year he published "The Child of Nature, +and other Poems," in a thin duodecimo volume. In 1853 he printed, by +subscription, a third volume, entitled "Rosaline's Dream, in Four Duans, +and other Poems," which was accompanied with an introductory essay by +the Rev. George Gilfillan. His latest production--"The Fountain of the +Rock, a Poem"--appeared in a pamphlet form, in 1855. He has repeatedly +written prose tales for the periodicals, and has contributed verses to +_Blackwood's Magazine_ and the _Edinburgh Literary Journal_. + +From the labour of a long career of honourable industry, John Nevay is +now enjoying the pleasures of retirement. He continues to compose verses +with undiminished ardour, and has several MS. poems ready for the press. +He has also prepared a lengthened autobiography. As a poet, his +prevailing themes are the picturesque objects of nature. His lyrical +pieces somewhat lack simplicity. His best production--"The Emigrant's +Love-letter"--will maintain a place in the national minstrelsy. It was +composed during the same week with Motherwell's "Jeanie Morrison," which +it so peculiarly resembles both in expression and sentiment. + + + + +THE EMIGRANT'S LOVE-LETTER. + + + My young heart's luve! twal' years ha'e been + A century to me; + I ha'e na seen thy smile, nor heard + Thy voice's melodie. + The mony hardships I ha'e tholed + Sin' I left Larocklea, + I maun na tell, for it would bring + The saut tear in thine e'e. + + But I ha'e news, an' happy news, + To tell unto my love-- + What I ha'e won, to me mair dear + That it my heart can prove. + Its thochts unchanged, still it is true, + An' surely sae is thine; + Thou never, never canst forget + That twa waur ane langsyne. + + The simmer sun blinks on the tarn, + An' on the primrose brae, + Where we, in days o' innocence, + Waur wont to daff an' play; + An' I amang the mossy springs + Wade for the hinny blooms-- + To thee the rush tiara wove, + Bedeck'd wi' lily plumes. + + When on the ferny knowe we sat, + A happy, happy pair-- + Thy comely cheek laid on my knee, + I plaited thy gowden hair. + Oh! then I felt the holiest thocht + That e'er enter'd my mind-- + It, Mary, was to be to thee + For ever true an' kind. + + Though fair the flowers that bloom around + My dwallin' owre the sea-- + Though bricht the streams, an' green the bowers, + They are na _sae_ to me. + I hear the bulbul's mellow leed + Upo' the gorgeous paum-- + The sweet cheep o' the feather'd bee + Amang the fields o' baum. + + But there are nae auld Scotland's burds, + Sae dear to childhood's days-- + The laverock, lintie, shulf, an' yyoite, + That taught us luve's sweet lays. + Gin' thou e'er wauk'st alane to think + On him that's owre the sea, + Their cheerfu' saft luve-lilts will tell + My heart's luve-thochts to thee. + + Lat joy be in thy leal, true heart, + An' bricht smile in thine e'e-- + The bonnie bark is in the bay, + I 'm coming hame to thee; + I 'm coming hame to thee, Mary, + Wi' mony a pearl fine, + An' I will lay them in thy lap, + For the kiss o' sweet langsyne. + + + + +THOMAS LYLE. + + +Thomas Lyle, author of the highly popular song, "Kelvin Grove," is a +native of Paisley. Attending the philosophical and medical classes in +the University of Glasgow, he obtained the diploma of surgeon in the +year 1816. He commenced medical practice in Glasgow, where he remained +till 1826, when he removed to the parish of Airth in Stirlingshire. The +latter locality afforded him abundant opportunities for prosecuting his +favourite study of botany; and he frequently proceeded at early dawn to +great distances in quest of curious or rare plants, so as to gratify his +peculiar tastes without interfering with the duties of his profession, +or the conveniences of his patients. At an earlier period of life, +having cherished a love for the ancient national music, he was in the +habit of collecting and noting such of the older airs as were rapidly +passing into oblivion. He was particularly struck with one of these +airs, which he deemed worthy of more suitable words than those to which +it was commonly sung.[31] At this period he often resorted, in his +botanical rambles, to the wooded and sequestered banks of the Kelvin, +about two miles north-west of Glasgow;[32] and in consequence, he was +led to compose for his favourite tune the words of his beautiful song, +"Kelvin Grove." "The Harp of Renfrewshire" was now in the course of +being published, in sixpence numbers, under the editorship of his +college friend and professional brother, John Sim, and to this work he +contributed his new song. In a future number of the work, the song +appeared without his name, as was requested, but with some unauthorised +alterations. Of these he complained to Mr Sim, who laid the blame on Mr +John Murdoch, who had succeeded him in the editorship, and Mr Lyle did +not further prosecute inquiry on the subject. On the retirement of Mr +Murdoch, the editorship of "The Harp of Renfrewshire" was intrusted to +the poet Motherwell, who incautiously ascribed the song to Mr Sim in the +index of the work. Sim died in the West Indies before this period;[33] +and, in the belief that the song had been composed by him, Mr Purdie, +music-seller in Edinburgh, made purchase of the copyright from his +representatives, and published the words, with music arranged for the +piano by Robert Archibald Smith. Mr Lyle now asserted his title to the +authorship, and on Mr Sim's letter regarding the alterations being +submitted to Messrs Motherwell and Smith, a decision in favour of his +claim was pronounced by these gentlemen. Mr Lyle was shortly after +invited by Mr Smith to contribute songs for the "Irish Minstrel," one of +his numerous musical publications. + +In 1827 Mr Lyle published the results of his researches into the song +literature of his country, in a duodecimo volume, entitled "Ancient +Ballads and Songs, chiefly from Tradition, Manuscripts, and scarce +Works, with Biographical and Illustrative Notices." Of this work, the +more interesting portion consists of "Miscellaneous Poems, by Sir +William Mure, Knight of Rowallan," together with several songs of +various merit by the editor. + +Having acted as medical practitioner at Airth during the period of +twenty-eight years, Mr Lyle, in the close of 1853, returned to Glasgow, +where he soon found himself actively employed by the medical boards of +the city during the prevalence of the Asiatic Cholera. At the present +time he is one of the city district surgeons. A man of the most retiring +dispositions, he has hitherto avoided public reputation, and has written +verses, as he has studied botany, solely for his amusement. He will, +however, be remembered as the writer of some exquisitely sweet and +simple lyrics. + +FOOTNOTES: + +[31] The former words to this air commenced, "Oh, the shearing's no for +you, bonnie lassie, O!" + +[32] The wooded scenery of the Kelvin will in a few years be included +within the boundaries of the city, which has already extended within a +very limited space of the "grove" celebrated in the song. + +[33] See vol. iii., p. 226. + + + + +KELVIN GROVE. + + + Let us haste to Kelvin Grove, bonnie lassie, O! + Through its mazes let us rove, bonnie lassie, O! + Where the rose in all her pride, + Paints the hollow dingle side, + Where the midnight fairies glide, bonnie lassie, O! + + Let us wander by the mill, bonnie lassie, O! + To the cove beside the rill, bonnie lassie, O! + Where the glens rebound the call + Of the roaring water's fall, + Through the mountains rocky hall, bonnie lassie, O! + + O Kelvin banks are fair, bonnie lassie, O! + When in summer we are there, bonnie lassie, O! + There the May pink's crimson plume + Throws a soft but sweet perfume + Round the yellow banks of broom, bonnie lassie, O! + + Though I dare not call thee mine, bonnie lassie, O! + As the smile of fortune 's thine, bonnie lassie, O! + Yet with fortune on my side, + I could stay thy father's pride, + And win thee for my bride, bonnie lassie, O! + + But the frowns of fortune lower, bonnie lassie, O! + On thy lover at this hour, bonnie lassie, O! + Ere yon golden orb of day + Wake the warblers on the spray, + From this land I must away, bonnie lassie, O! + + Then farewell to Kelvin grove, bonnie lassie, O! + And adieu to all I love, bonnie lassie, O! + To the river winding clear, + To the fragrant-scented breer, + Even to thee of all most dear, bonnie lassie, O! + + When upon a foreign shore, bonnie lassie, O! + Should I fall midst battle's roar, bonnie lassie, O! + Then, Helen! shouldst thou hear + Of thy lover on his bier, + To his memory shed a tear, bonnie lassie, O! + + + + +THE TRYSTING HOUR. + + + The night-wind's Eolian breezes, + Chase melody over the grove, + The fleecy clouds wreathing in tresses, + Float rosy the woodlands above; + Then tarry no longer, my true love, + The stars hang their lamps in the sky, + 'Tis lovely the landscape to view, love, + When each bloom has a tear in its eye. + + So stilly the evening is closing, + Bright dew-drops are heard as they fall, + Eolian whispers reposing + Breathe softly, I hear my love call; + Yes, the light fairy step of my true love + The night breeze is wafting to me; + Over heathbell and violet blue, love, + Perfuming the shadowy lea. + + + + +HARVEST SONG.[34] + + + The harvest morning breaks + Breathing balm, and the lawn + Through the mist in rosy streaks + Gilds the dawn, + While fairy troops descend, + With the rolling clouds that bend + O'er the forest as they wend + Fast away, when the day + Chases cloudy wreaths away + From the land. + + The harvest breezes swell, + And the song pours along, + From the reapers in the dell, + Joyous throng! + The tiny gleaners come, + Picking up their harvest home, + As they o'er the stubble roam, + Dancing here, sporting there, + All the balmy sunny air + Is full of song. + + The harvest evening falls, + While each flower round the bower, + Breathing odour, now recalls + The lover's hour. + The moon enthroned in blue + Lights the rippling lake anew, + And the wailing owls' whoo! whoo! + From the glen again, again, + Wakes the stillness of the scene + On my adieu. + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[34] Contributed by Mr Lyle to the present work. + + + + +JAMES HOME. + + +James Home, the author of "Mary Steel," and other popular songs, was +born, early in the century, on the farm of Hollybush, about a mile south +of Galashiels. During a period of about thirty years, he has been +engaged in the humble capacity of a dry-stone mason in Peeblesshire. He +resides in the hamlet of Rachan Mill in that county, where, in addition +to his ordinary employment, he holds the office of postmaster. + +Home has not ventured on a publication, and latterly has abandoned the +composition of verses. In youth he was, writes a correspondent, "an +enthusiast in love, music, and poetry." A number of his songs and +poetical pieces, which he had addressed to friends, have long been +popular in the south of Scotland. His song entitled "This Lassie o' +Mine" has enjoyed an uncommon measure of general favour. His +compositions are replete with pathos; he has skilfully told the lover's +tale; and has most truthfully depicted the joys and sorrows, hopes and +fears of human life. Some of his best pieces appear in the "Unknown +Poets" of Mr Alexander Campbell,--a work which only reached a single +number. Of mild dispositions, modest manners, and industrious habits, +Home is much respected in private life. Of a somewhat sanguine +complexion, his countenance betokens superior intellectual power. He +enjoys the comfort of a suitable partner in life, and is a respected +office-bearer of the Free Church congregation at Broughton. + + + + +MARY STEEL. + + + I 'll think o' thee, my Mary Steel, + When the lark begins to sing, + And a thousan', thousan' joyfu' hearts + Are welcoming the spring: + When the merle and the blackbird build their nest + In the bushy forest tree, + And a' things under the sky seem blest, + My thoughts shall be o' thee. + + I 'll think o' thee, my Mary Steel, + When the simmer spreads her flowers, + And the lily blooms and the ivy twines + In beauty round the bowers; + When the cushat coos in the leafy wood, + And the lambs sport o'er the lea, + And every heart 's in its happiest mood, + My thoughts shall be o' thee. + + I 'll think o' thee, my Mary Steel, + When har'st blithe days begin, + And shearers ply, in the yellow ripe field, + The foremost rig to win; + When the shepherd brings his ewes to the fauld, + Where light-hair'd lasses be, + And mony a tale o' love is tauld, + My thoughts shall be o' thee. + + I 'll think o' thee, my Mary Steel, + When the winter winds rave high, + And the tempest wild is pourin' doun + Frae the dark and troubled sky: + When a hopeless wail is heard on land, + And shrieks frae the roaring sea, + And the wreck o' nature seems at hand, + My thoughts shall be o' thee! + + + + +OH, HAST THOU FORGOTTEN? + + + Oh, hast thou forgotten the birk tree's shade, + And this warm, true heart o' mine, Mary? + Oh, hast thou forgotten the promise thou made, + When so fondly 't was pressed to thine, Mary? + + Oh, hast thou forgotten, what I ne'er can forget, + The hours we have spent together? + Those hours which, like stars in my memory, yet + Shine on as brightly as ever! + + Oh, hast thou forgotten that moment of bliss, + So fraught with the heart's full feeling? + As we clung to each other in the last embrace, + The soul of love revealing! + + Oh, hast thou forgotten that sacred spot, + Where the farewell word was spoken? + Is the sigh, and the tear, and all forgot, + The vow and the promise broken? + + Then for ever farewell, thou false fair one; + Though other arms caress thee, + Though a fairer youth thy heart should gain, + And a smoother tongue should bless thee:-- + + Yet never again on thy warm young cheek + Will breathe a soul more warm than mine, + And never again will a lover speak + Of love more pure to thine. + + + + +THE MAID OF MY HEART. + +AIR--_"The Last Rose of Summer."_ + + + When the maid of my heart, with the dark rolling eye, + The only beloved of my bosom is nigh, + I ask not of Heaven one bliss to impart, + Save that which I feel with the maid of my heart. + + When around and above us there 's nought to be seen, + But the moon on the sky and the flower on the green, + And all is at rest in the glen and the hill, + Save the soul-stirring song of the breeze and the rill. + + Then the maid of my heart to my bosom is press'd, + Then all I hold dear in this world is possess'd; + Then I ask not of Heaven one bliss to impart, + Save that which I feel with the maid of my heart. + + + + +SONG OF THE EMIGRANT. + + + Oh! the land of hills is the land for me, + Where the maiden's step is light and free; + Where the shepherd's pipe, and the hunter's horn, + Awake the joys of the rosy morn. + + There 's a voice in the wind, when it comes from the lake, + That tells how the foamy billows break; + There 's a voice in the wind, when it comes from the wood, + That tells of dreary solitude. + + But, oh! when it comes from the mountain fells, + Where the Spirit of Song and Freedom dwells, + Where in youth's warm day I woke that strain + I ne'er in this world can wake again. + + The warm blood leaps in its wonted course, + And fresh tears gush from their briny source, + As if I had hail'd in the passing wind + The all I have loved and left behind. + + + + +THIS LASSIE O' MINE.[35] + +TUNE--_"Wattie's Ramble."_ + + + O, saw ye this sweet bonnie lassie o' mine? + Or saw ye the smile on her cheek sae divine? + Or saw ye the kind love that speaks in her e'e? + Sure naebody e'er was sae happy as me. + + It 's no that she dances sae light on the green, + It 's no the simplicity marked in her mien-- + But, O! it 's the kind love that speaks in her e'e + That keeps me aye happy as happy can be. + + To meet her alane 'mang the green leafy trees, + When naebody kens, an' when naebody sees; + To breathe out the soul in a saft melting kiss-- + On earth sure there 's naething is equal to this. + + I have felt every bliss which the soul can enjoy, + When friends circle round, and nought to annoy; + I have felt every joy which illumines the breast + When the full flowing bowl is most warmly caress'd. + + But, O! there 's a sweet and a heavenly charm + In life's early day, when the bosom is warm, + When soul meets with soul in a saft melting kiss, + On earth sure there 's naething is equal to this. + +FOOTNOTES: + +[35] This song was formerly introduced in this work (vol. ii. p. 70) as +the composition of the Ettrick Shepherd. The error is not ours; we found +the song in the latest or posthumous edition of the Shepherd's songs, p. +201 (Blackie, Glasgow), and we had no reason to suspect the +authenticity. We have since ascertained that a copy of the song, having +been handed to the Shepherd by the late Mr Peter Roger, of Peebles, +Hogg, with the view of directing attention to the real author, +introduced it shortly after in his _Noctes Bengerianae_, in the +"Edinburgh Literary Journal" (vol. i. p. 258). Being included in this +periodical paper, the editor of his posthumous works had assumed that +the song was the Shepherd's own composition. So much for uncertainty as +to the authorship of our best songs! + + + + +JAMES TELFER. + + +James Telfer, an ingenious prose writer and respectable poet, was born +about the commencement of the century, near the source of the river Jed, +in the parish of Southdean, and county of Roxburgh. Passionate in his +admiration of Hogg's "Queen's Wake," he early essayed imitations of some +of the more remarkable portions of that poem. In 1824 he published at +Jedburgh a volume of "Border Ballads and Miscellaneous Poems," which he +inscribed to the Bard of Ettrick. "Barbara Gray," an interesting prose +tale, appeared from his pen in 1835, printed at Newcastle. A collected +edition of his best productions in prose and verse was published at +London in 1852, with the title of "Tales and Sketches." He has long been +a contributor to the provincial journals. + +Some of Mr Telfer's ballads are respectable specimens of this class of +compositions; and his tales in prose are written with much vigour, the +narrative of "Barbara Gray" being especially interesting. For many years +he has taught an adventure school at Saughtree, Liddisdale; and with +emoluments not much beyond twenty pounds a-year, he has contrived to +support a family. He has long maintained a literary correspondence with +his ingenious friend, Mr Robert White of Newcastle; and his letters, +some of which we have seen, abound with curious and interesting +speculations. + + + + +OH, WILL YE WALK THE WOOD WI' ME?[36] + + + "Oh, will ye walk the wood wi' me? + Oh, will ye walk the green? + Or will ye sit within mine arms, + My ain kind Jean?" + + "It 's I 'll not walk the wood wi' thee, + Nor yet will I the green; + And as for sitting in your arms, + It 's what I dinna mean." + + "Oh! slighted love is ill to thole, + And weel may I compleen; + But since that better mayna be, + I e'en maun thol 't for Jean." + + "Gang up to May o' Mistycleugh, + Ye saw her late yestreen; + Ye'll find in her a lightsome love + Ye winna find in Jean." + + "Wi' bonny May o' Mistycleugh + I carena to be seen; + Her lightsome love I'd freely gie + For half a blink frae Jean." + + "Gang down to Madge o' Miryfaulds, + I ken for her ye green; + Wi' her ye 'll get a purse o' gowd-- + Ye 'll naething get wi' Jean." + + "For doity Madge o' Miryfaulds + I dinna care a preen; + The purse o' gowd I weel could want, + If I could hae my Jean." + + "Oh, yes! I 'll walk the wood wi' thee; + Oh, yes! I 'll walk the green; + But first ye 'll meet me at the kirk, + And mak' me aye your Jean." + +FOOTNOTES: + +[36] Portions of the first and second verses of this song are fragments +of an older ditty.--_Note by the Author._ + + + + +I MAUN GAE OVER THE SEA. + + + "Sweet summer now is by, + And cauld winter is nigh, + The wan leaves they fa' frae the tree; + The hills are white wi' snaw, + And the frosty winds blaw, + And I maun gie over the sea, Mary, + And I maun gie over the sea. + + "But winter will gang by, + And summer come wi' joy, + And Nature again will be free; + And wooers you will find, + And mair ye 'll never mind + The laddie that 's over the sea, Mary, + The laddie that 's over the sea." + + "Oh, Willie, since it 's sae, + My heart is very wae + To leave a' my friends and countrie; + But wi' thee I will gang, + Though the way it be lang, + And wi' thee I 'll cross the saut sea, Willie, + And wi' thee I 'll cross the saut sea." + + "The way is vera far, + And terrible is war, + And great are the hardships to dree; + And if I should be slain, + Or a prisoner ta'en, + My jewel, what would come o' thee, Mary? + My jewel, what would come o' thee? + + "Sae at hame ye maun bide, + And should it sae betide + That a bride to another ye be, + For ane that lo'ed ye dear + Ye 'll whiles drap a tear; + I 'll aften do the same for thee, Mary, + I 'll aften do the same for thee." + + The rowan tear down fell, + Her bosom wasna well, + For she sabbit most wofullie; + "Oure the yirth I wad gang, + And never count it lang, + But I fear ye carena for me, Willie, + But I fear ye carena for me." + + Nae langer could he thole, + She tore his vera soul, + He dighted her bonnie blue e'e; + "Oh, what was it you said, + Oh my ain loving maid? + I 'll never love a woman but thee, Mary, + I 'll never love a woman but thee!" + + The fae is forced to yield, + And freedom has the field; + "Away I will ne'er gang frae thee; + Only death shall us part, + Keep sic thoughts frae my heart, + But never shall part us the sea, Mary, + But never shall part us the sea." + + + + + +METRICAL TRANSLATIONS + +FROM + +The Modern Gaelic Minstrelsy. + + + + +EVAN MACLACHLAN. + + +One of the most learned of the modern Gaelic song-writers, Evan +Maclachlan, was born in 1775, in a small hut called Torracaltuin, in the +district of Lochaber. After struggling with many difficulties in +obtaining the means of education, he qualified himself for the duties of +an itinerating tutor. In this capacity it was his good fortune to live +in the families of the substantial tenantry of the district, two of +whom, the farmers at Clunes and Glen Pean, were led to evince an +especial interest in his welfare. The localities of those early patrons +he has celebrated in his poetry. Another patron, the Chief of Glengarry, +supplied funds to enable him to proceed to the university, and he was +fortunate in gaining, by competition, a bursary or exhibition at King's +College, Aberdeen. For a Greek ode, on the generation of light, he +gained the prize granted for competition to the King's College by the +celebrated Dr Claudius Buchanan. Having held, during a period of years, +the office of librarian in King's College, he was in 1819 elected +master of the grammar school of Old Aberdeen. His death took place on +the 29th March 1822. To the preparation of a Gaelic dictionary he +devoted the most important part of his life. Subsequent to his decease, +the work was published in two quarto volumes, by the Highland Society, +under the editorial care of Dr Mackay, formerly of Dunoon. The chief +amusement of Maclachlan's leisure hours was executing translations of +Homer into Gaelic. His translation of the third book of the Iliad has +been printed. Of his powers as a Gaelic poet, an estimate may be formed +from the following specimens in English verse. + + + + +A MELODY OF LOVE. + + The first stanza of this song was the composition of a + lady. Maclachlan completed the composition in Gaelic, + and afterwards produced the following version of the + whole in English. + + + Not the swan on the lake, or the foam on the shore, + Can compare with the charms of the maid I adore: + Not so white is the new milk that flows o'er the pail, + Or the snow that is shower'd from the boughs of the vale. + + As the cloud's yellow wreath on the mountain's high brow, + The locks of my fair one redundantly flow; + Her cheeks have the tint that the roses display + When they glitter with dew on the morning of May. + + As the planet of Venus that gleams o'er the grove, + Her blue rolling eyes are the symbols of love: + Her pearl-circled bosom diffuses bright rays, + Like the moon when the stars are bedimm'd with her blaze. + + The mavis and lark, when they welcome the dawn, + Make a chorus of joy to resound through the lawn: + But the mavis is tuneless, the lark strives in vain, + When my beautiful charmer renews her sweet strain. + + When summer bespangles the landscape with flowers, + While the thrush and the cuckoo sing soft from the bowers, + Through the wood-shaded windings with Bella I 'll rove, + And feast unrestrained on the smiles of my love. + + + + +THE MAVIS OF THE CLAN. + + These verses are allegorical. In the character of a + song-bird the bard relates the circumstances of his + nativity, the simple habits of his progenitors, and his + own rural tastes and recreations from infancy, giving + the first place to the delights of melody. He proceeds + to give an account of his flight to a strange but + hospitable region, where he continued to sing his songs + among the birds, the flocks, the streams, and + cultivated fields of the land of his sojourn. This + piece is founded upon a common usage of the Gaelic + bards, several of whom assume the allegorical character + of the "Mavis" of their own clan. Thus we have the + Mavis of Clan-ranald by Mac-Vaistir-Allister--of + Macdonald (of Sleat) by Mac Codrum--of Macleod, and + many others. + + + Clan Lachlan's tuneful mavis, I sing on the branches early, + And such my love of song, I sleep but half the night-tide rarely; + No raven I, of greedy maw, no kite of bloody beak, + No bird of devastating claw, but a woodland songster meek. + I love the apple's infant bloom; my ancestry have fared + For ages on the nourishment the orchard hath prepared: + Their hey-day was the summer, their joy the summer's dawn, + And their dancing-floor it was the green leaf's velvet lawn; + Their song was the carol that defiance bade to care, + And their breath of life it was the summer's balmiest air. + + When first my morn of life was born, the Pean's[37] silver stream + Glanced in my eye, and then there lent my view their kinder gleam, + The flowers that fringed its side, where, by the fragrant breezes lull'd, + As in a cradle-bed I lay, and all my woes were still'd. + But changes will come over us, and now a stranger I + Among the glades of Cluaran[38] must imp my wings and fly; + Yet gratitude forbid complaint, although in foreign grove, + Since welcome to my haunt I come, and there in freedom rove. + + By every song-bird charm'd, my ear is fed the livelong day, + Now from the hollow's deepest dell, now from the top-most spray, + The comrades of my lay, they tune their wild notes for my pleasure, + And I, can I refrain to swell their diapason's measure? + With its own clusters loaded, with its rich foliage dress'd, + Each bough is hanging down, and each shapely stem depress'd, + While nestle there inhabitants, a feather'd tuneful choir, + That in the strife of song breathe forth a flame of minstrel fire. + O happy tribe of choristers! no interruption mars + The concert of your harmony, nor ever harshly jars + A string of all your harping, nor of your voices trill + Notes that are weak for tameness, that are for sharpness shrill. + + The sun is on his flushing march, his golden hair abroad, + It seems as on the mountain's side of beams a furnace glow'd, + Now melts the honey from all flowers, and now a dew o'erspreads + (A dew of fragrant blessedness) all the grasses of the meads. + Nor least in my remembrance is my country's flowering heather, + Whose russet crest, nor cold, nor sun, nor sweep of gale may wither; + Dear to my eye the symbol wild, that loves like me the side + Of my own Highland mountains that I climb in love and pride. + + Dear tribes of nature! co-mates ye of nature's wandering son-- + I hail the lambs that on the floor of milky pastures run, + I hail the mother flocks, that, wrapp'd in their mantle of the fleece, + Defy the landward tempest's roar, and defy the seaward breeze. + The streams they drink are waters of the ever-gushing well, + Those streams, oh, how they wind around the swellings of the dell! + The flowers they browze are mantles spread o'er pastures wide and far, + As mantle o'er the firmament the stars, each flower a star! + I will not name each sister beam, but clustering there I see + The beauty of the purple-bell, the daisy of the lea. + + Of every hue I mark them, the many-spotted kine, + The dun, the brindled, and the dark, and blends the bright its shine; + And, 'mid the Highlands rude, I see the frequent furrows swell, + With the barley and the corn that Scotland loves so well. + + * * * * * + + And now I close my clannish lay with blessings on the shade + That bids the mavis sing her song, well nurtured, undismay'd; + The shade where bloom and cresses, and the ear-honey'd heather, + Are smiling fair, and dwelling in their brotherhood together; + For the sun is setting largely, and blinks my eye its ken; + 'T is time to loose the strings, I ween, and close my wild-wood strain. + +FOOTNOTES: + +[37] The stream that flows through Glen Pean. + +[38] The Gaelic name of Clunes, where the bard was entertained for many +years of his tutor life. + + + + +THE THREE BARDS OF COWAL.[39] + + + + +JOHN BROWN. + + +One of the bards of Cowal is believed to have been born in the parish of +Inverchaolain about 1750; his family name was Brun or Broun, as +distinguished from the Lowland Brown, which he assumed. He first +appeared as a poet by the publication, at Perth, in 1786, of a small +volume of Gaelic poetry, dedicated to the Duke of Montrose. The +subsequent portion of his career seems to have been chiefly occupied in +genealogical researches. In 1792 he completed, in two large sheets, his +"Historical and Genealogical Tree of the Royal Family of Scotland;" of +which the second edition bears the date 1811. This was followed by +similar genealogical trees of the illustrious family of Graham, of the +noble house of Elphinstone, and other families. In these productions he +uniformly styles himself, "Genealogist to his R. H. the Prince of Wales, +for Scotland." Brown died at Edinburgh in the beginning of the year +1821. He had formed a respectable connexion by marriage, under +circumstances which he has commemorated in the annexed specimen of his +poetry, but his latter years were somewhat clouded by misfortune. He is +remembered as a solicitor for subscriptions to his genealogical +publications. + +FOOTNOTES: + +[39] Cowal is that portion of Argyllshire bordering the Frith of Clyde, +and extending inland to the margin of Lochfine. + + + + +THE SISTERS OF DUNOLLY. + + The poet had paid his addresses to one of the sisters, + but without the consent of her relatives, who + ultimately induced her to wed another. After a lapse of + time the bard transferred his affection to another + daughter of the same distinguished family, and being + successful, was compensated for his former trials. + + + The sundown had mantled Ben Nevis with night, + And the stars were attired in the glory of light, + And the hope of the lover was shining as day, + When Dunolly's fair daughter was sprited away. + + Away she has gone at the touch of the helm, + And the shadows of darkness her lover o'erwhelm-- + But, would that his strength as his purpose was true, + At Dunolly, Culloden were battled anew! + + Yes! did they give courtesy, did they give time, + The kindred of Cowal would meet at the prime, + And the _Brunach_[40] would joy, in the succour they gave, + To win him a bride, or to win him a grave. + + My lost one! I'm not like the laggard thou'st found, + Whose puissance scarce carries the sword he has bound; + In the flush of my health and my penniless youth, + I could well have rewarded thine honour and truth. + + Five years they have pass'd, and the Brunach has shaken + The burden of woe that his spirit was breaking; + A sister is salving a sister's annoy, + And the eyes of the Brunach are treasured with joy. + + A bride worth the princesses England is rearing, + Comes forth from Dunolly, a star reappearing; + If my heart in Dunolly was garner'd before, + In Dunolly, my pride and my pleasure is more. + + The lowly, the gentle, the graceful, the mild + That in friendship or charity never beguiled, + She is mine--to Dunduala[41] that traces her stem, + As for kings to be proud of, 'tis prouder for them, + Though Donald[42] the gracious be head of her line, + And "our exiled and dear"[43] in her pedigree shine. + + Then hearken, ye men of the country I love! + Despair not, unsmooth though the course of your love, + Ere ye yield to your sorrow or die in your folly, + May ye find, like the Brunach, another Dunolly. + +FOOTNOTES: + +[40] Brunach--The Brown, viz., the poet himself. + +[41] The Macdougalls of Dunolly claim descent from the Scoto-Irish kings +who reigned in Dunstaffnage. + +[42] Supposed to be the first of our Christian kings. + +[43] Prince Charles Edward. + + + + +CHARLES STEWART, D.D. + + +The Rev. Dr Stewart was born at Appin, Argyllshire, in 1751. His mother +was a daughter of Edmonstone of Cambuswallace, the representative of an +old and distinguished family in the counties of Perth and Stirling; and +his father was brother of Stewart of Invernachoil, who was actively +engaged in the cause of Prince Charles Edward, and has been +distinguished in the romance of Waverley as the Baron of Bradwardine. +This daring Argyllshire chief, whom Scott represents as being fed in the +cave by "Davie Gellatly," was actually tended in such a place of +concealment by his own daughter, a child about ten years old. + +On receiving license, Dr Stewart soon attained popularity as a preacher. +In 1779, being in his twenty-eighth year, he was ordained to the +pastoral charge of the parish of Strachur, Argyllshire. He died in the +manse of Strachur on the 24th of May 1826, in the seventy-fifth year of +his age, and the forty-seventh of his ministry. A tombstone was erected +to his memory in the parochial burying-ground, by the members of the +kirk-session. Possessed of superior talents, a vast fund of humour, and +a delightful store of traditional information, he was much cherished by +a wide circle of admiring friends. Faithful in the discharge of the +public duties of his office, he was distinguished among his parishioners +for his private amenities and acts of benevolence. He was the author +only of one song, but this has attained much favour among the Gael. + + + + +LUINEAG--A LOVE CAROL. + + + No homeward scene near me, + No comrade to cheer me, + I cling to my dearie, + And sigh till I marry. + Sing ever O, and ra-ill O, + Ra-ill O, + Sing ever O, and ra-ill O, + Was ever a May like my fairy? + + My youth with the stranger,[44] + Next on mountains a ranger, + I pass'd--but no change, here, + Will sever from Mary. + + What ringlets discover + Their gloss thy brows over-- + Forget thee! thy lover, + Ah, first shall they bury. + + Thy aspect of kindness, + Thy graces they bind us, + And, like Feili,[45] remind us + Of a heaven undreary. + + Than the treasures of Spain + I would toil more to gain + Thy love--but my pain, + Ah, 'tis cruel, my Mary! + + When the shell is o'erflowing, + And its dew-drops are glowing, + No, never, thy snow on + A slander shall tarry. + + When viols are playing, + And dancers are Maying, + My eyes may be straying, + But my soul is with Mary. + + That white hand of thine + Might I take into mine, + Could I ever repine, + Or from tenderness vary? + + No, never! no, never! + My troth on 't for ever, + Lip to lip, I 'd deliver + My being to Mary. + +FOOTNOTES: + +[44] Invernahyle removed with his family to Edinburgh, and became very +intimate with the father of Sir Walter Scott. He seems to have made a +great impression on the future poet. + +[45] Festivals, saint-days. + + + + +ANGUS FLETCHER. + + +Angus Fletcher was born at Coirinti, a wild and romantic spot on the +west bank of Loch Eck, in June 1776. His education was chiefly conducted +at the parish school of Kilmodan, Glendaruel. From Glendaruel he went to +Bute, in 1791, where he was variously employed till May 1804, when he +was elected schoolmaster of Dunoon, his native parish. His death took +place at Dunoon in 1852. The first of the two following songs was +contributed anonymously to the _Weekly Journal_ newspaper, whence it was +transferred by Turner into his Gaelic collection. It soon became popular +in the Highlands, and the authorship came to be assigned to different +individuals. Fletcher afterwards announced himself as the author, and +completely established his claim. He was the author of various metrical +compositions both in Gaelic and English. + + + + +THE CLACHAN OF GLENDARUEL. + + + Thy wily eyes, my darling, + Thy graces bright, my jewel, + Have grieved me since our parting + At the kirk of Glendaruel. + + 'Twas to the Kirkton wending + Bright eyes encounter'd duty, + And mavis' notes were blending + With the rosy cheeks of beauty. + + Oh, jimpsome is her shapely waist, + Her arms, her instep queenly; + And her sweet parting lips are graced + With rows of ivory inly. + + When busy tongues are railing, + Lown is her word unsaucy, + And with modest grace unfailing + She trips it o'er the causey. + + Should royalty prefer me, + Preferment none I crave, + But to live a shepherd near thee, + On the howes of Corrichnaive. + + Would fortune crown my wishes-- + The shealing of the hill, + With my darling, and the rushes + To couch on, were my will. + + I hear, but not instruction, + Though faithful lips are pleading-- + I read thy eyes' perfection, + On their dew of mildness feeding. + + My hand is swiftly scrolling, + In the courts of reverend men;[46] + But, ah! my restless soul in + Is triumphing my Jean. + + I fear, I fear their frowning-- + But though they chased me over + Where Holland's flats[47] are drowning, + I 'll live and die thy lover. + +FOOTNOTES: + +[46] The poet waxes professional. He was session-clerk and clerk-depute +of presbytery. + +[47] The war was raging in Holland, under the command of the Duke of +York. The bard threatens to exchange the pen for the sword. + + + + +THE LASSIE OF THE GLEN. + + Versified from the Gaelic Original by the Author. + + + Beneath a hill 'mang birken bushes, + By a burnie's dimplit linn, + I told my love with artless blushes + To the lassie o' the glen. + + Oh! the birken bank sae grassy, + Hey! the burnie's dimplit linn; + Dear to me 's the bonnie lassie + Living in yon rashy glen! + + Lanely Ruail! thy stream sae glassy + Shall be aye my fav'rite theme, + For on thy banks my Highland lassie + First confess'd a mutual flame. + + What bliss to sit, and nane to fash us, + In some sweet wee bow'ry den! + Or fondly stray amang the rashes, + Wi' the lassie o' the glen! + + And though I wander now unhappy, + Far frae scenes we haunted then, + I'll ne'er forget the bank sae grassy, + Nor the lassie o' the glen. + + + + +GLOSSARY. + + +_Aboon_, above. + +_Aumry_, a store-place. + +_Baum_, balm. + +_Beuk_, book. + +_Bicker_, a drinking vessel. + +_Burnie_, a small stream. + +_Caller_, cool. + +_Cled_, clad. + +_Clud_, cloud. + +_Couthy_, frank. + +_Daffin'_, merry-making. + +_Dighted_, wiped. + +_Doit_, a small coin. + +_Doitet_, dotard. + +_Douf_, sad. + +_Dree_, endure. + +_Dwine_, dwindle. + +_Fauld_, fold. + +_Fleechit_, cajoled. + +_Fykes_, troubles, anxieties. + +_Gaed_, went. + +_Gar_, compel. + +_Gate_, way. + +_Glour_, look earnestly. + +_Grannie_, grandmother. + +_Grat_, wept. + +_Grit_, great. + +_Haill_, whole. + +_Haud_, hold, keep. + +_Heuk_, reaping-hook. + +_Hie_, high. + +_Hinny_, honey. + +_Hizzie_, _Hussy_, a thoughtless girl. + +_Ken_, know. + +_Knows_, knolls, hillocks. + +_Laith_, loth. + +_Lift_, firmament. + +_Lowin'_, burning. + +_Minnie_, mother. + +_Parochin'_, parish. + +_Pu'_, pull. + +_Roos'd_, praised. + +_Sabbit_, sobbed. + +_Scour_, search. + +_Slee_, sly. + +_Speerin'_, inquiring. + +_Swiggit_, swallowed. + +_Syne_, then. + +_Thole_, endure. + +_Toom_, empty. + +_Troth_, truth, vow. + +_Trow_, believe. + +_Tyne_, lose. + +_Unco_, uncommon. + +_Wag_, shake. + +_Waur_, worse. + +_Ween_, guess. + +_Yirth_, earth. + +_Yowes_, ewes. + + +END OF VOL. 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