IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-S) 1.0 I.I 2.5 2.2 2.0 1.8 1.25 II 1.4 IIIII.6 ^^ ll^= i^ • i 6" ► V] vQ / °> > y /A W Photographic Sciences Corporation 23 WeST MAIN STRUT WEBSTER, N.Y. USSO (716) 873-4S03 CIHM/ICMH Microfiche Series. CIHIVI/ICIVIH Collection de microfiches. Canadian Institute for Historical Microreproductions / Institut Canadian de microreproductions historiques > Technical and Bibliographic Notes/Notes techniques et bibliographiques The Institute has attempted to obtain the best original copy available for filming. Features of this copy which may be bibliographicaliy unique, which may alter any of the images in the reproduction, or which may significantly change the usual method of filming, are checked below. D D D D D □ D Coloured covers/ Couverture de couleur I I Covers damaged/ Couverture endommagie Covers rostored and/or laminated/ Couverture restaurie et/ou peiiiculie I I Cover title missing/ Le titre de couverture manque Coloured maps/ Cartes g6ographiques en couleur □ Coloured init (i.e. other than blue or black)/ Encre de couleur (i.e. autre que bleue ou noire) I I Coloured plates and/or illustrations/ Planches et/ou illustrations en couleur Bound with other material/ Reli6 avec d'autres documents Tight binding may cause shadows or distortion along interior margin/ Lareliure serr6e peut causer de I'ombre ou de la distortion le long de la marge intdrieure Blank leaves added during restoration may appear within the text. Whenever possible, these have been omitted from filming/ II se peut que certaines pages blanches ajouties tors d'une restau ration apparaissent dans le texte, mais, lorsque cela 6tait possible, ces pages n'ont pas 6t6 filmies. Additional comments:/ Commentaires suppldmentaires; L'Institut a microfilm^ le meilleur exemplaire qu'il lui a ^ti possible de se procurer. Les details de cet exemplaire qui sont peut-Atre uniques du point de vue bibliographique, qui peuvent modifier une image reproduite, ou qui peuvent exiger une modification dans la mAthode normale de filmage sont indiquis ci-dessous. I I Coloured pages/ y >y n This item is filmed at the reduction ratio checked below/ Ce document est film6 au taux de rMuction indiqui ci-dessous. Pages de couleur Pages damaged/ Pages endommag6es Pages restored and/oi Pages restaurdes et/ou pelliculies I I Pages damaged/ I I Pages restored and/or laminated/ Pages discoloured, stained or foxed/ Pages dicolordes, taichetdes ou piqudes □ Pages detached/ Pages ditach^es Showthrough/ Transparence I I Quality of print varies/ Qualitd inigale de I'impression Includes supplementary material/ Comprend du materiel suppldmentdire Only edition available/ Seule ddition disponible Pages wholly or partially obscured by errata slips, tissues, etc., have been refilmed to ensure the best possible image/ Les pages totalement ou partieliement obscurcies par un feuillet d'errata. une pelure, etc., ont 6x6 filmdes 6 nouveau de fagon 6 obtenir la meilleure image possible. 10X 14X 18X 22X 26X 30X 7 12X 16X 20X 24X 28X r-."- 32X . ri' w- The copy filmed here has been reproduced thanks to the generosity of: National Library of Canada L'exempiaire filmd fut reproduit grflce d la g6n6ro8it6 de: Bibliothdque nationale du Canada The images appearing here are the best quality possible considering the condition and legibility of the original copy and in keeping with the filming contract specifications. Original copies in printed paper covers are filmed beginning with the front cover and ending on the last page with a printed or illustrated impres- sion, or the back cover when appropriate. All other original copies are filmed beginning on the first page with a printed or illustrated impres- sion, and ending on the last page with a printed or illustrated impression. The !ast recorded frame on each microfiche shall contain the symbol ^^> (meaning "CON- TINUED"), or the symbol y (meaning "END"), whichever applies. Les images suivantes ont 6t6 reproduites avac le plus grand soin, compte tenu de la condition et de la nettetd de l'exempiaire film6, et en conformity avec les conditions du contrat de filmage. Les exemplaires originaux dont la couverture en papier est imprim^e sont fiimds en commen^ant par ie premier plat et en terminant soit par la dernidre page qui comporte une empreinte d'impression ou d'illustration, soit par le second plat, selon le cas. Tous les autres exemplaires originaux sont film6s en commen9ant par la premiere page qui comporte une empreinte d'impression ou d'illustration et en terminant par la dernidre page qui comporte une telle empreinte. Un des symboles suivants apparaftra sur la derniftre image de cheque microfiche, selon le cas: le symbole — ► signifie "A SUIVRE", le symbole V signifie "FIN". Maps, plates, charts, etc., may be filmed at different reduction ratios. Those too large to be entirely included in one exposure are filmed beginning in the upper left hand corner, left to right and top to bottom, as many frames as required. The following diagrams illustrate the method: Les cartes, planches, tableaux, etc., peuvent dtre film6s i des taux de reduction diffdrents. Lorsque le document est trop grand pour dtre reproduit en un seul clichd, il est film6 d partir de Tangle sup^rieur gauche, de gauche d droite, et de haut en bas, en prenant le nombre d'images n^cessaire. Les diagrammes suivdnts illustrent la m^thode. 1 2 3 1 2 3 4 5 6 '■^■'M*\^ THE EMIGRAIS-T, AND OTHER POEMS, BY ALEXANDER M*LAOHLAN, Autlwr of " Lyrics," &.c. " CcBlum non animum mutant qui trans mare currunt." TORONTO : PUBLISHED BY ROLLO & ADAM, OENERA.L B00KSELLBE8 AWD IMPORTERS; NEW YORK, LONDON & EDINBURGH :-A.FULLARTON 4 0©. 1861. n »7 *"•, r-> Q All C L f^f^fS H^ '^^ Entered, according to the Act of tho Provincial Parliament, in the year one thousand eight hundred and sixty-one, by Alexander McLachlan, in the Office of the Rej^istrar of the Province of Canada. liOVELI. AND aiBEOH, PBINTEBS. TO THE REVEREND PROFESSOR GEORGE, VIOE-PRINOIPAL OF THE UNIVERSITY OP QUEEN's COLLEGE, KINGSTON, AS A SINCERE TOKEN" OP ADMIRATION FOR HIS TALENT AS A WRITER, AND RESPECT FOR HIS CHARACTER AS A MAN, %\u Wmm IS INSCRIBED BY HIS OBLIGED FRIEND, ^ ALEXANDER McLAOHLAN. ^' 01 in 01 oi si S€ ^ PREFACE. In presenting this volume to the public, I have only to state, that the Emigrant, the principal poem in the book, is an attempt to sketch the history of a backwoods settlement. The first part is descriptive only of the manners and customs of the old pioneers of the forest. The concluding parts (which will shortly be published) will bring the history of the settlement down to the present day. Erin Village, May 4th, 1861. CONTENTS. PAOK The Emigkant 8 Chapter 1 15 " II 25 " III 33 " IV 41 " V 52 " VI 65 " VII '74 God 93 Garibaldi 97 AULD GUANNY BuOUM 100 Blind John, or, The Lifk and Age op Man 105 The Great Old Sea Ill I WiNNA Gae IIame 113 Mystery 118 The Seer 120 We're a' John Tamson's Bairns 126 Written at the Grave op ***** * 129 Elder John 132 Lovely Alice 13*7 John Tamson's AoDRiiiiy to the Clergy in Scotland . . 139 The Flower op the Speed 146 The Gentleman 148 On the Prince's Visit 151 Old Elspeth's Lament 155 Song, written fob the Scottish Gathering, Sept. 1859 159 8 CONTKNTS. PAQB Sir Colin 162 JoNNY Keeps tub Key O't 165 Mauy White 166 Wee Jeanif's Lament 169 Heroes 170 To THE Memory ok Burns 172 To THE Moon 1T4 What Poor Little Fellows are We 1Y6 Life's Enigma 177 Where'er We May Wander 178 My Love is Like the Lily Flower 181 The First Sorrow 183 AuLD Towser 186 Epistle to William Smith 193 The Workman's Song 197 The Old Emigrant's Song to his Wipe 200 We Live in a Rickety House 202 Young Canada 204 Epitaph 211 We Lean on One Another 215 The Suicide's Burial 218 The Young Rake 223 Charloch Ban 228 Genius 230 American War Ode 234 THE EMIGRANT. PART HUST. B THE EMIGRANT. INTRODUCTION. Land of mighty lake and forest ! Where the winter's locks are hoarest ; Where the summer's leaf is greenest ; And the winter's bite the keenest ; Where the autumn's leaf is searest ; And her parting smile the dearest ; Where the tempest rushes forth, From his caverns of the north ; With the lightnings of his wrath, Sweeping forests from his path : Where the cataract stupendous, Lifteth up her voice tremendous ; Where uncultivated nature, Rears her pines of giant stature ; 12 THESEMIGRANT. Sows her jagged hemlocks o'er, Thick as bristles on the boar ; Plants the stately elm and oak, Firmly in the iron rock ; Where the crane her course is steering ; And the eagle is careering ; Where the gentle deer are bounding, And the woodman's axe resounding ; Land ot mighty lake and river, To our hearts thou'rt dear forever ! Thou art not a land of story ; Thou art not a land of glory ; No tradition, tale, nor song, To thine ancient woods belong ; No long line of bards and sages. Looking to us down the ages ; No old heroes sweeping by, In their warlike panoply ; Yet heroic deeds are done, Whero no battle's lost or won ; In tl ? cottage in the woods, In the lonely solitudes ; Pledges of affection given, That will be redeemed in heaven. INTRODUCTIOxN. 13 'Sk / seek in a foreign land, For the theme that's close at hand ; Human nature can he seen, Here within the forest ereen ; Let us wander where we will, There's a world of good and ill. Poetry is every where. In the common earth and air, In the pen, and in the stall. In the hyssop on the wall, In the wandering Arab's tent, In the backwoods settlement ; Have we but the hearing ear. It is always whispering near. Have we but the heart to feel it. All the world will reveal it. CHAPTER I. LEAVING HOME. I. Let us sit upon this stone. With its gray moss overgrown ; And we'll talk ahout the past, For I'm left the very last, Of that simple hardy race, Who first settled in this place ; At whose stroke the forest fell, And the sound of Sabbath bell Startled desolation's brood. In the trackless solitude. 16 THE EMIGRANT. II. Half a century has rolled, With its burdens manifold ; Since I left my home so dear, And came a young adventurer here } Many faces fortune wears. In the space of fifty years, Strange mutations, smiles and frowns. Unexpected ups and downs. Oh what crowds have crossed the path To the rendezvous of death. Men so mighty in their day, Gone to nothingness away, What great teachers and their schools, Prophets time has proven fools. Transcendental meteors high. That have faded from the sky ; Tho' the fashion of a day. Gone like shadows all away. III. Fifty years have passed away. Fifty years this very day. Since I left at fortune's call. Friends and fatherland and all ; LEAVING HOME. 17 I was then a happy boy, Earth a scene of hope and joy ; I have now grown old and gray, Yet it seems but yesterday ; Every circumstance comes back, O'er that long and weary track ; Friends the loving and true hearted, Who have long with death departed ; Crowd around nriC in the dell, Where I bade them all farewell. lY. It was a lovely morn in spring, The lark was high upon the wing, The bonnie bells in clusters blue, The gowan wi* its drap o'dew, The cowslip and the primrose pale. Were forth in Cartha's lovely vale ; Ah there they were so chaste and meek. Not silent tho' they did not speak ; It seemed to me as if they knew, I came to bid them all adieu ; For we*d been companions dear, And could not part without a tear, Hi M 18 THE EMIGRANT. And Cartha had a mournful voice, She did not as of old rejoice ; And vale and mountain, flower and tree, Were looking sadly upon me ; For oh ! there is a nameless tie, A strange mysterious sympathy, Between us and material things, Which into close communion brings Our spirits with the unseen power, Which looks from every tree and flower. There was the bonnie bush of broom. Just opening into golden bloom j Beneath whose tassels many a day, I listened to the blackbird's lay ; Yonder the mountains looming through, Benlomond towering in the blue, How kingly ! tho' his forehead wears, The furrows of six thousand years. Oh ! how I loved those mountains gray. Which pass not like man's works away ; But are forever seated there, Old monarchs on their thrones of air ; And were they not the first to draw From out my soul the sigh of awe, Till down the mighty shadows came, LEAVING HOME. And lifted me aloft to them ; And seated with the monarchs there, Above this little world of care, My spirit burst the bounds of time. And revelled in the realms sublime ; And now it seemed they closer drew, As if to bid me all adieu. V. There are things in memory set. Things we never can forget, Still I see the very spot. Close beside our lowly cot, "Where my grandsire old and gray, Blessed be his memory. While upon his staff he bent, Thus he blest me ere I went. 19 VI. " Your journey's but beginning now, While mine is nearly ending, Thou'rt starting up the hill of life, I to the grave descending ; 20 THE EMIGRANT. With thee 'tis bright and buoyant spring, With me 'tis dark December, And my injunctions, O my son, I'd have thee to remember. *• I've seen in three score years and ten. So many strange mutations. So many sides of fortune's face. To families and nations ; I've learned to know she can't be caught. By vtrhip, by spur, or bridle. She is not caught by running fast. Nor yet by standing idle. " While she within thy hopeful heart. Her wondrous tale rehearses. In noting all be sure and leave, A margin for reverses ; Should' st thou be rich, trust not in wealthy From thee it may be taken. But if you put your trust in God, You'll never be forsaken. " Men toil to reach the earthly heights. From which by death they're hurl'd. LEAVINfe HOME. Be thine ambition what you'd not Exchange for all the world ; Should'st thou be poor sit not and sigh, Nor deem yourself neglected, The kindest lift that ere I got, Was when I least expected. *' Grieve not at the decrees of fate, Though they may be distressing, A blessing's mixed with every woe, A woe with every blessing ; The hollow's close beside the height, Whenever much is given, Something or other is withheld, To bring the balance even. 21 " Look fate and fortune in the face. In that there's worth and merit. The greatest poverty on earth, Is poverty of spirit ; Have aye some object in your view, And steadily pursue it, Nor grow faint-hearted come what may. But like a man stick to it. '1 22 THE EMIGRANT. " Hope not to find a good on earth. But what you'll have to pay for, The fruit that drops into the mouth. Is aye devoid of flavour ; If thou wilt lean on any man, All nature will upbraid thee, Then trust but to thine own right arm. And to the God who made thee. " Strive manfully in every strait. And after you have striven, With clean hands and an upright hearty Leave the result to heaven. Profess to be but what thou art, Avoid all affectation. If thou art truth's thou sitt'st upon A rock of deep foundation. " Be guided by your sense of right, Where scripture may not aid you, For that's the ray from heaven direct. The light from Him who made you. Philosophers are all afloat Upon a sea of troublep, They dash like waves against the rock, To give but birth to bubbles. LEAVING HOME. 23 ** Thcv cannot tell us whence we came, Or why we were -^ent liithcr, But leave us hopeless in the end, To go we know not whither. Trust not in knowledge, small indeed Is all that we can gather, But always ask the guidance of The universal Father. " There's much which we must teach ourselves, Which is not taught at college, "Without a syni})athetic soul, How vain is all our knowledge. Be charitable when you speak Of man and human nature ; "Who finds no worth in human hearts, Must be a worthless creature. " If you would have your brother's love, Then you must love your brother ; Heart leaps to heart the world o'er. Affections draw each other. Then cherish still within your breast, Affection's sacred blossom, Strive to be rich enough to keep A heart within vour bosom. 24 THE EMIGRANT. "Farewell, my son, we meet no more, The angel death, which gathers The green and ripe must shortly come, And take me to my fathers. Farewell, may heaven be the height To which you would aspire, And think at times, wlien far away. Upon your old grandsire." W- h I li THE JOURNEY. 25 CHAPTER II. THE JOURNEY. I. In the good ship "Edward Thorn," We were o'er the billows borne, A motley company were we, Sailing o'er that weary sea. Many from their homes had fled. For they had denied them bread ; Some from sorrow and distress, Others from mere restlessness, Some because their hopes were high, Others for — they knew not why. Some because they longed to see The promised land of liberty. II. There was doubting John the teacher, Spouting Tom, nicknamed the preacher, I ! r I I' i ' ' ' i:l ' I ' !■ ; 26 THE EMIGRANT. General John, the mechanician, Lean lank Tom, the politician, Lazy Bill, the bad news bringer, Little Mac, the jocund singer. There was Aleck the divine. Bristly as the porcupine. There was fighting Bill from Kent, Always uj)on mischief bent. Wives and children three or four. With yov.ths and maidens half a score, And lastly tall orator John, Always thoughtful and alone. A motley crew as ever went To form a backwoods settlement. ;'W III. When the winds were all asleep On the bosom of the deep. Not a breath the sails to fill, And the vessel lay as still On the bosom of the deep, " As a sea god fast asleep,*' Some would hang around the deck Telling tales of storm and wreck. 1 THE JOURNEY. Others through the smile and tear, Talked of the land they loved so dear, Or told the tale of deep distress. Of hungry, hopeless, wretchedness. Which made them ocean's dangers brave, To seek a home beyond the wave. Then to singing Tom would start. As he said to ease his heart. In a rude and boisterous vein, He would thunder oat this strain. 27 IV. Old England is eaten by knaves. Yet her heart is all right at the core, May she ne'er be the mother of slaves. Nor a foreign foe land on her shore. I love my own country and race, Nor lightly I fled from them both. Yet who would remain in a place Where there's too many spoons for the^broth. The squire's preserving his game. He says that God gave it to him, I! I i: (i THE EMIGRANT. And he'll banish the poor without shame, For touching a feather or limb. The Justice he feels very big, And boasts what the law can secure, But has two different laws in his wig, Which he keeps for the rich and the poor. The Bishop he preaches and prays, And talks of a heavenly birth. But somehow, for all that he days, He grabs a good share of the earth. Old England is eaten by knaves, Yet her heart is all right at the core, May she ne'er be the mother of slaves. Nor a foreign foe land on her shore. V. ThenJJittle Mac would sing the lays, Of Scotia's bonnie woods and braes, Of hoary hills, of dashing streams. Of lone rocks where the eagle screams ; Of primrose banks and gowany glens, it THE JOURNEY. Of broomy knowes and hawthorn dens, Of burnsides where the linnet's lay, Is heard the lee lang summer's day, The scenes which many a simple song, Still peoples with an airy throno- • Ahd still we hear them tell their tale, In every strath and stream and vale, In swells of love, in gusts of woe, Which thrilled my heart so long ago. And mournful groups around him hung. Sadly sighing as he sung ; And eyes grew dim, and hearts did swell, While thus he sung his last farewell. Farewell Caledonia, My country farewell ! Adieu every scarred cliff. And lone rocky fell. Your dark peaks are fading Away from my view. And I ne'er thought I loved you So dearly till noo ; For fortune does chase me Across the wild main. And the blue hills of Scotland I'll ne'er see again. 29 i ; ! i li ! i|^ I :i n! 30 THE EMIGRANT. Farewell lovely Leven, Thou vale of my heart, 'Twas hard frae the hame o' My childhood to part. Our lowly thatched cottage, Which stands by the mill, The green where we gambolled. The church on the hill ; I loved you, sweet valley, Ir sunshine and rain, But oh I shall never Behold you again. How bright were my mornings, My evenings how calm, I rose wi' the laverock. Lay down wi' the lamb ; Was blithe as the Untie That sings on the tree. And licht as the goudspink That lilts on the lee ; But tears, sighs and sorrow Are foolish and vain, For the heart-light o' childhood Returns not again. y 'A I THE JOURNEY. O sad was the morning When I cam awa', And hig were the tears frae My e'en that did fa' ; My mother was weepin', My father was wae. And farewell, my laddie, Was a' they could say ; While the tears o'er their haifets Were fa' in like rain. For they thocht that they never Would see me again. 31 Awa' frae our cottage, I tried then to steal. But friens gathered round me To bid me fareweel ; E'en Towser cam forth wi' A sorrowfu' whine, And the auld women said 'Twas a sorrowfu' sign ; It spak o' disaster, O' sorrow and pain. And the blue hills o' Scotland I'd ne'er see again. 32 THE EMIGRANT. And then when I tarried, And mournfully took, Of all the loved scenes my Last sorrowfu' look, The hills gathered round me, As if to embrace, And the bonnie wee {rowans Looked up in my race ; While the birds 'mang the branches, In sorrowfu' strain, Sang oh no, ye'll never See Scotland again. I I i '1 I t I THE ARKIVAL. 33 CHAl'TKR III. THE ARIUVAL. I. The woarv worid of waters jiast, 111 Canada arrived at last, Pioneers of civilization, Founders oi' a mighty n;ition ; Soon we entered in the woods, On tlie trackless solitudes, Where the spruce and cedar made An interminable shade ; And the pine and hemlock stood, Monarchs of the solitude, And we picked our way along, Sometimes right and sometimes wrong ; For a long and weary day, Thus we journeyed on our way. Picked a path through ? wale and swamp, And at evening fixed our cam}) ; Where a lovely little spring, D f il !, ■ 1 I h' ; \ 34 THK KM IG RANT. Miirniurcd like a living thiug, And like cliaritv I ween, Tracking all its pjitb with gre.'n ; Underneath a birchen tree, Down we sat riurht cheerfully ; Then of boughs a fire we made ; Gipsies in the greenwood shade, Hunters in the forest free, Never camped more cheerfully ; And the woods with echoes rung, While in concert thus we sung. II. O come to the greeawood shade, Away from the city's din, From the heartless strife of trfide, And the fumes of beer and gin ; Where Commerce spreads her fleets, Where bloated luxury lip>i. And Want as she prowls the streets, Looks on with her wolfish eyes. From the city with its sin, And its many coloured cod', THE ARUIVAL. Its palaces raised to fi'm, And 'ii» tcnjplos roared to God ; It!^ cellars dark and dank, Where never a sunbeam tails, Amid faces lean and lank, As the hnngry-lodkini^ walls. Its festering pits of woe. Its teeminu; earthly hells, Whose surt!:es ever flow. In sound of the Sabbath bells ; Oh ! God, I would rather be An Indian in the wood, And range tlirongh the forest free, In search of my daily food. 35 rather would I pursue, The wolf and the grisly bear. Than toil for the thankless few. In those seething- pits of care ; Here winter's breath is rude, And his finaers cold and wan, But what is his wildest mood, To the tyranny of man / ' I 36 THK EMIGRANT. To the trackless forest wikl, To the loneliest nbotle, O ! the heart is rcconcileil, That has felt oi)])ressiou's load ; The desert place is bright, The wilderness is fair, If Hope but shed her li,i;ht, If Freedom be but there. III. Singing tlius we circled round, aU beyond was gloom profound, And the tiame npon us threw, Something of a spectral hue ; 'Twas a scene so wild and quaint, Salvator would have loved to paint ; But ere long with «leej) oppressed, There we laid us down to rest ; With the cold earth for our bed, And the green boughs overhead ; And again at break of day, Started on our wearv wav ; Through morasses, over bogs, Wading rivers, crossing logs, THK ARHIVAI.. Scruinlilinj; over fMllcii trcos, Wading pond hoh's to the knees ; Sometimes wiiiideriutj; from the tiack ; And to find it tnrninu; l»aek ; ScoDiinp: ills that wonld hetide ns, Stout he.'irts and the sun to guide us. 37 IV. Then there eame a change of seene. Groves of beech and inaple green, Streams tliat murmured through the glade, Little flowers that loved the shade, Lovely birds of gorgeous dye, Flitted 'mong the branches high, Coloured like the setting sun, But were songless every one ; No one like the linnet gray, h\ our liome so far awav ; No one singing like the thrush, To his mate within the bush ; No one like the gentle lark, Singing between light and dark ; Soaring from the dewy sod, Like a herald up to God. :;i r !'l ' i' I 1 ' !! i ! ! 38 THi: EMIGRANT. Sonic had lovely umber wing?', Round their necks were golden rings ; Some were j)urj)le, others blue, All were lovely, strange and new ; But although surpassing lair, Still the song was wanting there ; Then we heard the rush of pigeons, Flocking to those lonely regions ; And anon when all was still, Paused to hear the wliip-poor-will ; And we thought of the cuckoo, But this stranger no one knew. V. Circling round a little lake, Where the deer their thirst would slake, Suddenly a lovely hind, Started up and snuifed the wind ; Instantly bold Bill from Kent, Through its brain a bullet sent ; The creature made a desperate leap, With a cry so wild and deep, Tried to make another bound, Reeled and sank upon the ground ; 1 *i THE AR RIVAL. And the sound tlie rifle niad»% Woke the herd within the shade, We could })lainly liear thcni rush, Through the leaves and underhrush, Fled afar tiie startled quail, And partridge with her fan-like tail. Whirring past with all her hrood, Sought a deeper solitude. 39 I e, VI. There the gentle thing lay dead, With a deep gash in its headf And its face and nostrils o'er, Spattered with the reeking, gore. There she lay, the lovely hind, She who could outstrip the wind, She the beauty of the wood, Slaughtered thus to be our food. VII. Then we journeyed on our way, And with the dechning day. Hailed with joy the promised lot, Sat down on this very spot ; -^^ Ml hi- 40 THE EMIGRANT. Saw Ontario wind her way, IJound yon still secluded bay ; Then it was a lonely scene, Where man's foot had never been. Now it is a busy mart, Filled with many a thing of art> And I love to sit and trace, Changes that have taken place ; Not a landmark does remain, Not a feature seems the same ; My companions, where are they f One by one they dropped away, And of all I'm left the last. Thus tO chronicle the past. w ct:tting the first tree. 41 CHAPTER IV. CUTTING THE FIRST TREE. I. Then to work we blithely went, And we soon got up a tent, On a point round which the lake, Wound like an enormous snake, As if it would bind it fast. Then it stretched away at last, Till in the horizon lost, Swallowed in its cloud built coast. II There our humble tent was spread. With the green boughs overhead. Such as wandering Arabs rear, In their deserts lone and drear ; 'Twas a temporary thing, Yet it made our hearts to sing, \\ i :': I 42 THE [JMKiRANT And the wilil diu'k floatina; hv, Paused, and with a starth'd crv, Called JK'i .scattered brood to save, Then i^he dised beneath the wave ; And rhe ernno that wonld alight, Screamed at the unlooked for sight, And like a bewildered thin. I ' ' ! I w ^ ; 1 1 I 1 ■I' ii' 1111 i \i I I i i ! i! 44 THE EMIGRANT. Kadicals niav vet have i)ower — Britain ])erish in an hour ; Yankees cease their boasting, too, Who can tell what time mav do ? That would be a miracle, Yet the thint:; is possible ; There is even room to hope For the Devil and the Pope— ('hanges strange we all ma\ see, But we'll never fell that tree ! " V. He had just repeated never, When the limbs began to quiver, And a rent which made us start Seemed to split the giant's heart ; And the branches, one and all. Seemed preparing for the fall — Swayed a moment to and fro, As in doubt which way to go, Then his head he gently bent, All at once awav he went — Down he came as loud as thunder, Crushins: limbs and brushwood under. 1 CIITTINC; THE FIRST TREK. 45 VI. And we gazed upon the sight With the consciousness of miglit ; 4nd we cheered as when a foe Or a tyrant is laid low. Then the orator, elated, On the stump got elevated, And, without premeditation, Thus began a long oration : — VII. ** Invaders of the ancient woods. These dark primeval solitudes, Where the pre .vling wolf and b^ar. Time unknown have made th'.'.r lair, We are God-commissioned here, That howling wilderness to clear, Till with joy it overflows Blooms and blossoms like the rose ! " Trees, of which the poet sings, May be very pretty things ; And these green-arched soHtudes Where no traveller intrudes— E Ml .' \ 'ill '' III:; )il II 46 THE EMIGRANT. May be fine, I do not doubt, Just to sit and sing about. Sentiments for those at ease, But, I fear, it fells no trees ; Not the sentimental tear, The strong arm is needed here — Stout hearts and determined will Don't give up like brother Bill ; Not by wringing of the hands We will win the fertile lauds, But by honest manly toil. Lords we shall be of the soil. He who would in aught be great, He must toil and he must wait. Favors drop not from the skies — Perseverance gains the prize ; Hear ye what the sages say — • Rome was not built in a day.' With these giants bending o'er us We have work enough before us ; Let us tramp on doubt and fear, Work must be the watchword here. '**Tis too soon to count the winning Yet we've made a good beginning ; 1 •W CUTTING THE FIRST TREK. 47 And, you know, the half is done M^hen a job is veil begun, Success crowuo iiie persevering, By and bye we'll have a clearing. There s one giant overcast, Stubborn, but he fell at last ; There he lies, like Csesar slain, And he'll never rise again. Caesar's mantle could not show Half as many stabs I trow. When stern Brutus o'er him stood With the dagger dripping; blood. I'm no seer, yet I can see From the felling of a tree, Greater consequences rise E'en than when a Csesar dies ! He who'd be a patriot now, Sweat, not blood, must bathe his brow ; Like a patriotic band, Let us all join heart and hand, Joying in each others success. Winking at each others weakness. Let us use but common sense. With industry and temperance. And God's blessing can be got, (■ I' li 1 \' V I 'I '\ 48 THE |':mi(;rant. Evoii for the asking o't ; And with these we'll hardly niiss » Health and wealth and happiness.'* VIII. When tlie speech drew to a close, Slowly doubting, John arose, Gave a quiet cough, and then Saying, " Listen, fellow men, Pay attention and I will Speak to you a parable : — IX. " In the days long, long ago. Ere the world was filled with woe, In a lone, retired place, Lived a simple, honest race ; They were ignorant of art. Yet they had far more of heart Than the people now a days, "With their dark and crooked ways ; They gave power and place to no man. And had every thing in common ; No one said this is mine own — fl'TTING THK KIRyT TREK. 49 Money was a thing unknown ; No lawgiver and no pelf, Each a hiw was to himself. They had neither high nor low, Rich nor poor ; they did not know Such distinctions eri^ could be. Such was their simplicity. Yea, they were a happy baud, Cultivating their own land ; Herds and flocks did fast increase, And they ate their breid in peace. Now my inference is plain, What has been might be again. Just compare their simple ways With the doJigs in our days. Every man is for himself. Hunting after power and pelf ; Not a moment can he rest — Grasping like a thing possessed ; Running, racing, here and there. Up and down and everywhere. Hunting for the root of evil, Restless as the very devil — He'll do aught to gain his end. Kiss a foe or stab a friend ; M w m% m '!!: ] 50 THK F.MIORANT. He'll bp either rtule or eivil, Play the saint, or play the Devil. Neither scrupulous nor nice, He follows skinflint's last advice ; It is short, and soon repeated, Simply ** cheat or ye'll he cheated ; A* moral creedfi are strings o bleathers^ The world's a (/oose, pluck ye her feathers ; Nae matter how ye rax and draw, If ye aye keep within the law ; dnd ye may lie, and dodye and wheel, A's fair as lang's ye dinna steal ; And he ye either saint or sinner, A^s rich t as lang as ye'' re the winner ; But get cash if ye can come at it, By fair means, but be sure and get it^ " Now, my friends, 'tis clear as day, If we choose the proper way : Like the tree we've now laid low, We might conquer vice and woe ; I can see no reason why We might not unite and try, Like those simple men of old, To redeem the world from gold ; CUTTING THE FIRST TRKK. 51 Each for all, and all for ^ach, Is the doctrine that I preach ; Mind the fable of the wands, 'Tis a fact that always stands ; Singly, we are poor and weak, But united, who can break." ers ; »f!l iiiii ill; iil! I 52 THE EMIGRANT. CHAPTER V. THE LOG CABIN. The little log cabin is far in the woods, And the foot of the wayfarer seldom comes there j Around it are stri'tching the great solitudes, Where the deer love to roam, and the wolf makes his lair, And the red man crawls on the surly bear. And the dead tree falls with a heavy crash, And the jagged hemlock and pine are there, And the dismal swamp and the dreary ash, And the eagle sits watching the moment to dash. And the roving son of the wilderness. While tracking the steps of the gentle deer, The little log cabin will seldom iniss, For the ringing sound of the axe he'll hear. And he comes to taste of its welcome cheer ; And the children who once would gaze in aifright, When they see his shaggy wolf dog appear, I If I ir THE LOG CABIN. 53 Will run out to meet him with wild delight, And the heart of the savage is tamed at the sight. The little log cabin is all alone, Its windows are rude, and its walls are bare, And the wind without has a weary moan ; Yet peace like an angel is nestling there, And Hope with her rapt uplifted air, Beholds in the distance the eglantine. And the corn with its silver tassel where The hemlock is anchored beside the tall pine. And the creeping weed hangs with its long fringing vine. And close by the cabin tho' hid in the wood, Ontario lies like a mirror of blue, Where the children hunt the wild duck's brood. And scare the tall crane and the lonely mew ; And the eldest has fashioned a light canoe. And with noisome glee they paddle along. Or dash for the cliff where the eagle flew. Or sing in their gladness the fisherman's song. Till they waken the echoes the greenwoods among. i :ili E (III:! 1 m 54 THE EMIGRANT. I. All was speed and bustle now, Hurry sat on every hrow, Nought was heard upon the breeze, But the sound of falling trees ; - .Rough logs over streams were laid, Cabins built and pathways made ; Little openings here and there, Patches to the sun laid bare, Growing larger every day ; Merrily time sped away, Troubles had we not a few, For the work was strange and new ; Mishaps neither few nor small. Yet we bore above them all. II. Then a change came o'er the scene, The forest doffed her garb of green. For a tawnv brown attire. Streaked with grey, and gold and fire. The wind moanerl like a thing bereft, And the little blue bird left; And the wild fowl of the lake. THE LOG CABIN. Sought the shelter of the brake ; The humming bird was seen no more, And the pigeon southward bore. And the rohin and the jay, "With the flowers had passed away ; Of a change all nature spoke. And the heavens were swathed in smoke ; The sun a hazy circle drew, And his bloody eye looked through. Thus the Indian summer ended, And the sleetv showers descended, And the trees were stript at last, And the snow fell thick and fast, And the lake with sullen roar. Dashed her foam upon the shore ; And the wind in angry mood. Swept the leafless solitude. 55 »! III. Then the wolves their visits paid us, Nightly came to serenade us ; In the middle of the night, I have started with affright, For there were around my dwelling;, m if i i A 56 THE EMIGRANT. More than fifty demons yelling ; I could plainly hear them tramp, Round the border of the swamp ; I have looked into the dark, Tried to make old Towser bark : He would only fawn and whine, - "While the terror-stricken swine, Ran around like things insane ; And the sheep, in fear and pain, Huddled all within a nook — How they trembled and they shook ; And the frightened cattle bore Close and closer to the door ; I could see the savage eyes. Flashing there like tire-flies, — Then I'd hear a long drawn howl. Then a little snappish growl. Then a silence deep as death, Till the furies drew their breath, Then above the voice of boreas. Fifty demons joined the chorus ; Thus they'd keep till dawn of day. Then they'd scamper all away. THE LOG CABIN. 57 IV. Tho' winter was long and dreary, We were hopeful^ we were cheery, We had many merry meetings, Social gatherings, kindly greetings ; To the wall the log was laid. And a roaring fire was made ; Tho' the storm might rave without. We were blithe with song about ; Then the youths would tell their stories, With the maidens' laugh for chorus : Of the hunting of the 'coon, All beneath the Autumn moon ; Of the logging in the fall — . Of oxen terrible to haul ; Of the mighty chopping match, Gained but by a single natch. Thus the time would steal along, With the tale and with the song Little Mac would sit and sing ; Till the very roof would ring. V. I ask not for fortune, I ask not for wealth ; ■ '^' 58 THE EMIGRANT. But give me the cabin, With freedom aud health ; With some one to love me — Joy's roses to wreathe; W'th no one above me, d no one beneath. Let tools be officious, And flatter the great ; Let knaves be ambitious To rule in the State : Give alms to the needy, Give fame to the fool ; Give gold to the greedy — Let Bonaparte rule. :ii^ But give me the cabin, Tho' far, far apart ; I'll make it love's dwelling — The home of the heart. With some one to love me — Joy's roses to wreathe ; With no one above me. And no one beneath. THE LOG CABIN. 59 VI. Then we'd checv him loud and long, For the jolly hunter's song ; "Who, while roving in the shade, Wooed and won the Indian Maid. VII. come my love ! O come with me To my sweet home afar ; This arm will guard — no guide need we, Save yonder evening star. 1 am not of thy clime nor creed, But be not thence afraid : Love makes these accidents, indeed, My pretty Indian Maid ! I Thine eyebrow is the vault of night — Thy check the dusk of dawn ; And thy dark eye a world of light — My pretty bounding fawn ! I'll deck thy hair with jewels rare — Thy neck with rich brocade ; And in my heart of hearts I'll wear My pretty Indian Maid ! I 60 THE EMIGRANT. h ! m Then come, my love, O come witli me, And ere the braves awake. Our bark will bound like arrow free Across the mighty lake ; Where faces pale will welcome thee, Sweet flow' ret of the shade, And of my bower thov It laay be — My lovely Indian Maid ! VIII. Then the elder ones would tell Of the great things that befel ; Of the feats unsaid — unsung— In the days when they were young ; Of the worth existing then — Maidens fair and mighty men : Or they'd sing the ballad rhymes — Histories of other times ; Of the manners past away, Living in the minstrel's lay : Gil Morice, the Earl's son ; Chevy-Chase so dearly won. It may be that I'm growing old, Or that my heart is turning cold ; THE LOG CABIN. 61 Or that my ear is falsely strung, Or wedded to my native tongue ; Yet those strains so void of art, — Those old gushings of the heart, Heaving, swelling, like the sea, With the soul of poetry ; They must live within the breast, 'Till this wearv heart's at rest ; And our tears would fall like rain, List'ning to old Aunty Jane, While in mournful tones she'd sing The ballad of the Gipsy King : — (C VIII. Lord Sempill's mounted on his steed. And to the greenwood gane ; The Gipsy steals to the wicket gate. And whispers Lady Jane. The lark is high in heaven above, But his lay she does not hear, For her heaving heart is racked with love, With hope, with doubt, and fear. t< *Thy father's halls are fair and wide, The Sempill woods are green ; V|- i 62 THE EMIGRANT. But love can smile, sweeter far, In a Gipsy tent, I ween ; The crawflower hangs by Cartha's side, The rose by Elderslie, The primrose by the bank of Clyde, The heather bell on Dee. " *Biit I've built our bower beside the Gryffe, Where hangs the hinny pear ; For I've seen no spot in my roving life To match the vale of Weir.' The sweet flowers drink the crystal dew, The bonnie wee birds sing. But she hears them not, as off she flies, Away with tVe Gipsy King ! " But the false page hurries to my Lord, And the tale to him doth bear ; He swears an oath, as he dashes off, And away to the vale of Weir. The day fades o'er the Lomonds green. But gloamin's hour is long ; He lights him at the Gipsy's tent, And mars the bridal song. THE LOG CABIN. 63 ** * You've stolen the pride of my house and heart, With tiiy spells and magic ring ; Thy head goes at my saddle bow, Wert thou thrice a Gipsy King.' " " * I used no spell but the spell of love— And love knows no degree ; I ne'er turned back on a friend or foe. But I will not fight with thee.' " ** The Gipsy reels on the bloody sod, And the lady flies between j But the blow that reddens her raven locks Was meant for the Gipsy King. ** * Oh ! what have I done,' Lord Sertipill cries. And his sword away doth tiing ; ** Arise, my daughter, oh ! arise, And wed with your Gipsy King." He lifts her gently ii his arms, And holds her drooping head ; But the tears are vain, that fall like rain. For the Ladv Jane is dead. They laid her where the alder waves, With many a sigh and tear ; 64 THK EMIGRANT. And the gray cairn still points out her grave, Adown the vale of Weir. And the maid of the hamlet points the spot, And loves the tale to tell ; And-the Place of Grief is the name it bears, Adown the dreary dell. THE INDIAN BATTLK. 65 CHAPTER VI. THE INDIAN BATTLE. I. It happened (I forget tlie year) Shortly after we came here ; All upon a summer day, I was busy with the hay. While I paused to wipe my face, I could see with hurried pace, Some one coming down the hill. What ! can that be lazy Bill ? Sure, there's something in the blast, When poor Billy runs so fast ! Up he came, and down he sat, Puff*d, and put aside his hat ; Wiped the sweat from off his face, "Oh ! my vitals, what a race : Go, oh ! go, and get your gun — Or we're murdered everv one ! 1 911',! 1 'iil 11 66 THE EMIGRANT. All the Mohawks are upon us — May the Lord have mercy on us ! They are thick as pigeons, hush ; — Hear them yelling in the bush ! Death in any shape is horrid, But *tis awful to be worried. Oh ! to think that I came here To be roasted like a deer ; Little did I think, oh dee ! That would be the end of me. Had I but a gun and sword, I would dash among the horde ; On the cannibals I'd set — I'd do something desperate !" II. Home we went, where all were arming. And the thing looked quite alarming. Children, with imploring looks. Running into secret nooks ; Women, seeking hiding-places, With their terror-stricken faces ; Men were running here and there, Hunting weapons everywhere ; THE INDIAN BATTLE. Any thing which could be found — Aught which would inflict a wound j For we all resolved we should Sell our lives as dear's we could. 67 III. There was fighting Bill, from Kent, (Bill was in his element,) Stalking, like a soldier born, With his gun and powder horn ; Then there was old soldier Hugh, With his sword and musket too. Like a general, there he stood. In his old commanding mood ; Soon we mustered fifty men. But of muskets only ten. Seven pitchforks and a dirk, They would help to do the work. Each man had an axe at least. And a will to do his best. Soldier Hugh assumed command, And the line of battle planned. Sent his scouts, that he might know, The TT anceuvres of the foe. ::,i if- i'\ ' s 68 THE EMIGRANT. Muskets to the front, said he, Keep your ranks, and follow me. IV. Then with pulses beating high, On we marched to do or die ; When we reached yon little height, Then we halted for the fight : There we all in silence stood, Looking down upon the wood, Then there rose a fearful yell, As of fiends let loose from hell, "Which was answered by another, From a little brushwood cover ; We could hear the arrows whirring, And the very leaves seemed stirring. " Now, my lads, be firm and steady, And at the command be ready, Pikemen, you protect the rear, Presently we'll have them here." Not a whisper, not a breath. In a silence dr^ep as death, With grim faces, there we stood, Looking down upon the wood ; THE INDIAN BATTLE. Minute after minute passed, And suspense grew great at last ; We would have given much to know The motions of our hidden foe : Then at last a scout came in, Saying, with a laughing grin. We might safely all disarm> For 'twas all a false alarm. 'Twas two tribes in war array. That had fought since break of day. And their chiefs, to end the quarrel, "Were preparing for a duel ; These were welcome news indeed ; From the fear of danger freed. Off we started with delight. To behold the coming fight. 69- V. In the bosom of the wood, With his tribe, each chieftain stood, An old windfall of level green. Formed an open space between, And the silence was unbroken, Not a single word was spoken ; 7» THE EMIGRANT. Hi! Ii:^ Yet anxiety and hope, In each bosom seemed to cope, Hate, the horrid heritage Handed down from age to age, In their swarthy aces shone, \s the chiefs ca ne .'lowy on VI. Eagle, lall and straight and daring, Stept ou' with a lordly bearing, Ease and grace were in his tread, An eagle's feather on his head* Agile as the stag was he, trave and beautiful to see, Courage in V,is very walk. Ill one hand a tomahawk, And the other grasped a knife, Thus he stalked on to the strife. VII. Hemlock seemed much less in height, Broader and of greater weight. Shoulders of herculean strength, Arms of an enormous length, El ) THE INDIAN BATTLE. 7i Muscular and firmly set, Strength and cunning in him met ; On his head a raven's plume, In his eye a savage gloom ; Many a war path he had walked, Many a foe had tomahawked ; A model savage dark and dun, A devil if there e'er was one ; He approached with stealthy pace. And the cunninir; of his race. VIII. Each stood still to eye his ioe, Ere he'd make the fatal throw ; Hemlock seemed about to fling. When Eagle gave a whoop and spring, And seemed as if he taller grew ; Both upon the instant threw. Eagle wheeled, the weapou past, Or that whoop had been his last ; Hen lock sunk upon the plain, But got on his feet again ; I could see a stream of red, From a deep gash on his head ; m '■ i P 72 THE EMIGRANT. There a moment he did stand, Grasped the long knife in his hand, Then he bounded on a pace, Eagle met him in the race, Closing with a fearful yell, Grappled., they together fell, -O'er each other there ihey roll-Hl, As if in a deadly holdj And anon with seeming ^ase. Hemlock rises to his knees, Still Vis foe is in his grasp, Locked witLin his deadly clasp ; On his hau'.ches like a bear, Holds him for a moment there ; In his eyes the blood is streaming, I could see the long knife gleaming : Ere the blow could fall amain. He is r( Iling on the plain ; Sudden as the panther fleet. Eagle springs upon his feet, Like the serpent in the brake ; Or the deadly ratlle -snake, With a quick unerring dart. Strikes his victim to the heart. Leaps on him with deadly glare. i 1^ THE INDIAN BATTLK. Twines his fingers in his hair. And before his kindred's eyeSj There he scalps him ere he dies. IX. There the rival nations stood, Umpires of the deadly feud ; Silent yet with wild delight, Watched the fortunes of the fight ; But the Hurons one and all. When they saw their chieftain fall, Tho' they seemed a moment crushed, Like a tempest down they rushed. When Eagle with triumphant cry. Waved their chieftain's scalp on high. Then he bounded like a deer, To the Mohawks hastening near. Then the Hurons stood at bay. Bore their slaughtered chief away. Far unto the woods they bore, And were seen and heard no more. 73 74 THE EMIGRANT. CHAPTER VII. DONALD BAN. I. *Twas here upon this very spot, Where weeds so wildly grow, Old Donald's log built cabin stood, Full thirty years ago ; And he was tall and straight and fair, The perfect type of man, And Highland bards had sung of him. As stalwart Donald Ban.* He was a hunter in his youth. Had travelled far and wide, And knew each hill and vale and stream, From John 0' Groat's to Clyde ; Angliee Fair, f if II DONALD BAN. And well he loved to sit and tell, As well I loved to hear. Of feats of strength and daring, while He tracked the fallow deer. The spirit of the mighty hills. Within iiis breast he bore, And how he loved to sit and sing, Their balladical lore ; For he had treasured in his heart, The legends and the lays. The loves, the joys, the smiles and tears, The .oice of other days. The fields where heroes fought and fell, The graves wherein they sleep, And many a mountain robbers' hold, Where captives used to weep ; The mossy cairns by strath and stream. Renowned in Highland lay, A strange old world of shade and seer, Has with him passed away. 75 And he had gazed on nature's face, Until his spirit caught ?; i 76 TIIK r:M!f;KANT m\ Soino strange mysterious whispers t'roni The inner world ot' tiioiight ; He loved the things tar deepest, whieh He could not understand, And had n strange wild worship of The gloomy and the grand. Each mountain iiad a heart and soul» A language of its own, A great old monarch seated there, Upon his cloud- bnilt throne, The wailhig of the winter winds, The whispers of tlie glen. Were living and immortal things, Awatching mortal men ; And how the old man grieved to think, That he should hear no more, The ear '^ quake wrtstling with the hills, Nor Coryhrechtain's roar. II. Ah, poor Donald, who can tell. The heartbreak of thy last farewell, \ DONALD BAN. n When oppression's iron hand, Drove thee from that monntain land, Forced thee from the strath and fell, From the hills you loved so well ; When you took your last cdieu, Of Benlomond in the blue. Looked upon Ben Nevis hoar. Never to behold him more ; When you saw the old roof-tree, That so long had sheltered thee. Thee and all thy stalwart race. Set in flames before thy face ; And the tall, the lofty pine, Emblem of thy honoured line, Felled without remorse or shame, Felled to feed the wasting flame. That consumed thine humble dwelling ; Who can blame thy heart for swelling, Who condemn the blows you gave, To the tyrant and his slave ; Who condemn the curse that sprung, Ever ready from your tongue ; Or the imprecations deep, That from out thy heart would leap, When you thought upon that day, I' ' 78 THE KMHiRANT And the l)lue hills far away i Or tlu! tears that woiihl o'erflovv, When vou told that tale of woe. III. -Often at the close of eve, lie would sit him down and grieve, Then he'd take his pipes and play, 'Till his heart was far away ; On the spirit of the strain, Wafted to the hills again, Or while tears his eyelids wet. Sing this sweet song of regret. IV. *' Why left I my country, why did 1 forsake The land of the hill for the land of the lake, These plains are rich laden as summer's deep sigh. But give me the bare cliffs that tower to the sky ; Where the thunderer sits in the halls ot the storm, And the eagles are screaming on mighty Cairn-Gorm ; Benledi ! Benlomond ! Benawe ! Benveuue ! Old monarchs, forever enthroned in the blue. nONAF^n HAN, 79 Bon Nevis ! Bcnavin I the brotlievhood lionr, That sliout throuie alanj;, But here nae auld ballad the vounu; bosom thrills, Nae sang has made sacred thae forests and rills, And often I croon o'er some auld Scottish strain, 'Till I'm roving the hills of my country ajjain ; And may she ever be upright and brave, And ne'er let her furrows be turned by a slave, And ne'er may dishonour the blue i>()iniet stain, Altho' I should ne'er wear the boiniet again," V. Hard was poor old Donald's fate, In a strange land desolate ; Scarcely had he crossed the sea, When his son, the last of three, lie the beautiful and brave, Found an exile's nameless grave ; Then his wife, who was his pride, Down at Point St. Charles died, v ;■ ■' ; I 80 THE EMIGRANT. And he made for her a grave, By the lone St. Lawrence wave ; And at last when all were gone, Heartless, homeless, wandered on ; Still one comforter he found. In poor Fleetfoot, his stag hound, They had climbed the hills of heather, They had chased the deer together. And together they would mourn, O'er days never to return. VI. After wandering far and near. He built at last a cabin here, 'Twas at least a kind of home. From it he would never roam ; Hoped afflictions all would cease, And he'd end his days in peacCf Ah ! poor Donald, 'twas God's will, There was one affliction still, That was wanting to fill up. To the brim thy bitter cup ; And it came in loss of sight. Leaving thee in endless night. DONALD BAN. Helpless on a foreign shore, Ne'er to see " Lochaber more/ 81 VII. For a little while he pined, But becoming more resigned, Then he wandered far and wide. With poor Fleetfoot for his guide ; In the Highland garb arrayed. On the Highland pipe he played ; Ever at the welcome sound, Youths and maidens gathered round ; More than fifty I have seen, Dancing barefoot on the green. Tripping it so light and gay, To the merry tunes he'd play ; While he clew with might and main, Looking almost young again. Playing up the old strathspeys. With the heart of early days, O ! to see him who could know, He had ever tasted woe. &: i i i I :'l 82 il :d'; i& I It THE Jt-MUjRANT. VIII. Thus for many years he went, Round each backwood settlement. But wherever he might roam. This was still his house and home. Always as the autumn ended. Ere the sleety showers descended, When the leaves were red and sere, And the bitter days were near, When the winds began to sigh, And the birds away to fly, And the frost came to the ground, Donald's steps were homeward bound. Long before lie would appear. The loud note of his pipe we'd hear, At the glad, the welcome sound. All the neighbours gathered round, Many a young heart leaped for joy. Many a happy little boy, Bounr]pd onward glad to meet. Their oM companion, faithful Fleet ^ Then would Donald sit and tell, Of the strange things that befel. , i r DONALD BAN. 83 At the places where he played, Of the friends his music made, Of the hearts touched by his strains, Of his triumphs and his gains, Always ending with this song. In the woods remembered long. IX. sad was the heart of the old Highland piper, When forced from the hills of Lochaber away, No never to look on the loftv Benlomond, Nor wander again on the banks of the Tay. But still as sleep comes to my lone weary pillow, I hear Corybrechtan again in my dreams, 1 see the blue peaks of the lone cliffs of Jura, And wander again by her wild dashing ctreams. What tho' I must roam in the land of !'e stranger, My heart's 'mong the hills of Lochaber the while^ The' welcomed 'tis but in the tongue of the sassenach, *Ti8 not the heart welcome they gie in Argyle. They know not the heart of the old Highland piper, And little they think that it bleeds to the core. I,; I $4 THE EMIGRANT. When weary with mirth and the dance they invite me, To play them the wail of " Lochaber no more." They ne'er saw the tempest in Glen Avin gather, Nor heard the storm shrieking round Colansay's shore, Nor fek the cliffs quake 'neath the tramp of the thunder, Nor heard the hills join in the mighty uproar. And still as day fades o'er the weary Atlantic, To brighten the hills that looked lovely of yore, I seek the lone lake beach and play till the waters And pine forests ring with *' Lochaber no more " X. Thus the years with Donald sped, Till his health and strength were fled ; Time had changed his flowing hair. Furrowed dee^ his forehead fair ; But tho' old, and blind, and maim, Yet his heart was still the same ; But 'twas plainer every day. He was wearing fast away, — u i i Il I iJ DONALD BAN. 85 All his wanderings and his woes, Swiftly drawing to a close. Well I mind of all that passed, When I went to see him last. On his bed I found him lying, And the poor old man was dying. With no one to soothe or guide him. Not a living soul beside him ; Only Fleetfoot— faithful hound ! Met me with a welcome bound. Licked my hand, and led the way, To where his dying master lay : Placed his paws upon the bed, With a loving kind of dread- Looked with the reverence of his race, In his dying master's face ; Asked me with his anxious eye — Will he live, or will he die ; When he saw me shake my head, Down he lay beside the bed. And he whined so long and low. That mine eyes did overflow. " Down, Fleet, down," the old man said, ** Let us walk with noiselet;:! tread, :l^:;ii 86 THE KMIGRANT. Yonder herd of fallow deer Know not t^iat the hunter's near.*' But his biain was wandering fast From the present to the past ; Now he talked of other times, Singing snatches of old rhymes ; In a quick and liurried tone, This disjointed talk went on. " Hush ! the hilhi are calling on me, Their srcat spirit is upon me ; Listen ! that is old Ben More, Hush ! that's Corybrechtan's roar ; See ! a gleam of light is shed Afar upon Bennevis head : There ! 'tis on Beulomond now, The glory's resting on his brow ■ From his locks the gold is streaming, And his purple mantle's gleaming, The crimson and the amber rest On the deej) fohL )f hio vest, And still anon some isle of blue, Is for a moment heaving through. W (■•i I H DONALD HAN. *' The clouds are rolling fast away, The dark is dappling into day, Come my love we are aweary, Of these woods so lone and dreary, We have tarried far too long, From the land of lov<' and song. Ah ! thev told nie thou wert dead, By the lone 8t. Lawrence laid ; And our children, sons and daughters, Gone like music on the waters ; Bring my staif, let us siAvay, To the land of mounrains gray. Never, never more to roam, From our "native Highland home." XI. He seemed as if ahout to rise, Wlien suddenly he closed his eves. And his spirit passed away From its wearv house of clav. XII. After all thy toil and cumber, Sweetlv, Donald, mav'st thou slumber. 87 ■\' :■•. f ■~il 88 THE EMIGRANT^ !!l, L;;-!. And thy little tragedy, "Will not wholly pass away ; For there were, even in thee. Gleams of a divinity. Longings, aspirations high, After things which cannot die. O ! thy soul was like thy land, Stern and gloomy, great and grand, Yet each yawning gulf between. Had its nooks of sweetest green : Little flowers surpassing fair, Flowe 8 that bloom no other where Little natives of the rock. Smiling midst the thunder shock ; Then the rainbow gleams of glory, Hanging from the chasms hoary. Dearer for each savage sound. And the desolation round. XIL Much remains still to be told;, Of those men and times of old. Of the changes in our days, From their simple honest ways ; J \ty DONALD BAN. Of the quacks on spoil intent, That flocked to our settlement ; Of the swarms of public robbers, Speculators and land jobbers i Of the sorry set of teachers. Of the bogus tribe of preachers. Of the host of herb physicians. And of cunning politicians. But the sun has hid his face, And the night draws on apace j Shadows gather in the west. Beast and bird are gone to rest, With to-morrow we'll not fail. To resume our humble tale. 89 I'f i .11 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS, SONG-S, &c. IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) /. V^-^ Ma 1.0 I.I 1.25 25 III 120 1.8 U. 111^ Photographic Sciences Corporation ^ .«s'V' ■^ 33 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, N.Y. 14S80 (716) l)72-4503 Il'li GOD. Hail thou great mysterious being, Thou the unseen yet all-seeing. To thee we call. Hew can a mortal sing thy praise, Or speak of all thy wondrous ways, God over all. God of the great old solemn woods, God of the desert solitudes. And trackless sea. God of the crowded city vast, God of the present and the past. Can man know thee ? God of the blue vault overhead. Of the green earth on which we tread, Of time and space* God of the worlds which time conceals, God of the worlds which death reveals. To all our race. > 1 ■I I' iill h ' hll 94 MISCELLANKOIIH POEMS. God of the glorious realms of thought, From which some simple hearts have caught A ray divine. And the songs which rouse the nations, And the terrible orations, Lord God are thine. And all the forms of beauty rare, "Wh^f^h toiling genius moulds with care. Yea the sublime. The sculptured busts of joy and woe By thee were fashioned long ago. In that far clime. Far above earth, and space and time, Thou dwellest in thy heights sublime. Beneath thy feet The rolling worlds, the heav -.^ are spread> Glory infinite round thee shed Where angels meet. From out thy wrath the earthquakes leap. And shake the world's foundations deep, Ight GOO. 95 Till nature groans. In agony the mountains call, And ocean bellows throughout all Her frightened zones. But where thy smile its glory sheds The lilies lift their lovely heads, And the primrose rare : And the daisy deck'd with pearls, Richer than the proudest Earls On their mantles wear. These thy preachers of the wild-wood, Keep they not the heart of childhood. Fresh within us still. Spite of all our life's sad story. There are gleams of Thee and glory. In the daffodil. And old nature's heart rejoices. And the rivers lift their voices. And the sounding sea. And the mountains old and hoary, With their diadems of glory, Shout Lord to thee. ■■ .! lil I 96 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. But tho' Thou art hie;h and holy, Thou dost love the poor and lowly, With a love divine. Love infinite, love supernal. Love undying, love eternal, Lord God are thine ! GARIBALDI. 97 Up and avenge your country's shame, Like ^tna belching forth her flame. Rush on in freedom's holy nr.me. And strike with Garibaldi ! . '^ GARIBALDI ! O sons of Italy awake. Your hearths and altars are at stake, — Arise, arise, for Freedom's sake. And s'crike with Garibaldi ! The liberator now appears. Foretold by prophets, bards and seers, The hero sprung from blood and tears, All hail to Garibaldi ! ■:t .:. i Let serfs and cowards fear and quake, - Venice, Naples, Rome awake. Like lava of your burning lake. Rush on with Garibaldi ! II pi I 98 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 'Tis freedom thunders in your ears, The weary night of blood and tears, The sorrows of a thousand years, Cry on with Garibaldi ! The shades that hover round your fanes, The blood of heroes in your veins, Keep shouting, Rise and break your chains* And on with Garibaldi ! And tongues in many a dungeon stone, And prison walls are shouting on. And sweep the madman from his throne, Then on with Garibaldi ! The Roman Eagle is not dead. Her mighty wings again are spread, To swoop upon the tyrant's head. And strike with Garibaldi ! The drum of Bomba's doom does beat, The shadows of the murdered meet. To drag him to the judgment seat, Then on with Garibaldi ! GARIBALDI. 09 ns, The land wherein the laurel waves, Was never meant to nourish slaves, Then onward to your bloody graves, Or live like Garibaldi ! What soul but scorns the crouching slave, — O liberty is for the brave, Your cry be, Freedom or the grave, And on with Garibaldi ! • I 100 MlNCKliLANROUH POKM8. ]i h'V. W'V AULl) GRANNY BROUN. Some say there's nae witches ava' That its a' but nn aiild world dream, Or that they've been frightened awa', By science, by knowledge and steam ; Some say sic a thing caima be, As selling anes sel to Mahouii, But ye've only to listen to me, And the story o' auld Granny Broun. O she was a grusome auld dame. And she houiTd by the Locher's loud fa', Ye coudna just ca' it her hame. For Granny was often awa' ; She'd talk o' the planets, I vow ! And show you the way they swing roun' ; There's few been as near them I trow, r ( As that auld wrinkled witch Granny Broun. sJ As sure's there was wreck in the Firth, X^ Auld Granny was aff frae her hame, AULO GRANNY BROUN. 101 She was riding the clouds in her mirth, Or lashing the sea into faem ; Her howe voice the fishermen kent, Wh' h the winds and the waves coudna drouu j But they durstna gie ill wishes vent, On the wicked auld witch Granny Broun. And when in a seive she would float, On the dark gurly ocean her lane, She was sure to coup some hapless boat, And mak aff for the hills o' Spain ; She was out a' that wild windy night. When the bell in the steeple fell doun, For the session had wakened the spite — And the dander o' auld Granny Broun. And when she would take to the shape O* a pyat and flee o'er the kirk — The session was sure o' a scrape — Some awfu* sculduddery work ; And when there was death in the cup, She would come like a dog and cour dowD| In terror the kimmers looked up, For they kent it was auld Granny Broun. >.,■ 1 : i 102 MISCELLANEOUS I'OEMS. Her man gaed to skin and to bane, Wi* her changing liim into a mare, For saddled wi' bridle and rein, She rode him a* nicht through the air. When auld Sturdy's mare took a fricht, And ran till it ran itsel doun, Wha think ye was ridin't a' nicht. But the Deevil and auld Granny Broun. And to it auld Sturdy would stick, That he saw the queer couple astride, Noo grip to my tail quoth auld Nick, And my certie but we'll hae a ride. He followed through moor and through dale. And chased them the Hie-Craig aroun, But he only could see the mare's tail, And the nicht-mutch o' auld Granny Broun. And didna Kate Clurie ae nicht, Catch her playing at cards wi' the Deil, By the time Kate got ben to the licht. He had changed himseP into Will Steel.* When the pedlar was found in the snaw, Wi' an awfu' deep clour on his croun, * A noted Warlock in the west of Scotland. AULD (BRANNY BROUN. 103 K hare was seen sneakin' awa, Wi' the hirple o' auld Granny Broun. And dinna the Sailor declare, That she followed him every place, In ocean, in earth and in air, He kent ilka screw o' her face. And O! at Vesuvius black. Its wha does he see fleein' doun, Wi' guid Elder Bar on her back, But the wicked auld witch Granny Broun. Jean Ferly came on her ae day, She was boiling heart's bluid in a pat, Guid guide us was a' Jean could say. When she changed hersel into her cat ; For mysel I was sittin' ae nicht, A listening the wind's eerie soun. Ye may think that I got a gie fricht. When I heard it cry auld Granny Broun. But death got auld Granny at last, She sleeps in the mools wi' her cat. That the last o' her cantraps is cast, I'm no just sae certain o' that. i m ' t v: -•^. 104 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. Tho* some folk that fain would bo wise, Aboon a* that in history's laid doun, Will threep that its little save lies, I've been telling 'bout auld Granny Broun. BLIND JOHN. 105 BLIND JOHN, Oil THE LIFE AND AGE OF . MAN. The morn is fair, and old blind John Has tottered to the door, And seats him on the moss-grown stone, Beneath the hawthorn hoar ; He leans his head upon his hand, His elbow on his knee, For he is burdened with the weight Of three score years and three. !', 'A But hill and dale are laughing with The joyous voice of Spring, The flowers are forth, and happy trains Of birds upon the wing ; Benlomond's dofiPd his winter's cap. And Cartha's vales are gay, And gowans gather in the lap, Of lovely laughing May. K 106 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. I- iPi '! !! -^ The blackbird's singing on the bough, The lark is in the blue, And happy schoolboys mimicking The voice of the cuckoo. John leans and listens, for his heart Has still some tone of yore, And moralizes till his eyes, "With tears are running o'er. ** I once was joyous as yourselves, It seems but yesterday, Since I was in these very woods, A happy boy at play, Aye ! laugh and shout ye merry elves, Be happy while ye can. Nor listen while blind John runs o'er, The life and age of Man. " In youth our hearts are lighted up. Wit I hope's delusive beam. And earth is an enchanted place, And life a joyous dream. There's beauty underneath our feet. There's music in the air. •M' BLIND JOHN. 107 There's glory in the heavens above, And rapture everywhere. " But Time steals on with noiseless tread. And tho' the happy boy May feel a change, 'tis still to him A change from joy to joy ; Then hopes of high achievements start, Of great things to be done. Of undiscovered treasures vast, Of battles to be won. " The heroes of the present time, Are paltry, poor and small, He will go forth, and he shall be A hero worth them all ; And then what dreams of happiness, What visions rich and rare. What gorgeous towers and palaces, What castle? in the air. " Then love alights upon his heart, With all its joys and pains, His pulse beats madly, and the blood Is leaping in his veins ; .- li; i 4 a- 5^ Xii hf r i m III 108 MISCELLANEOUS I'OEMS. He sees but those love beaming eyes, And all beside is dim, she is fair and beautiful ! Worth all the world to him. " He drinks the strange mysterious draught, The sweeter for its pain, And reels delirious with a joy, He'll never taste again ; For time steals on, and oh how soon His visions melt away, And clouds are louring in the sky, While yet 'tis noon of day. " And see he sadly sits at last. With children on his knee, And he would fain forget his cares, Amid their mirth and glee ; But he must up, for he's the staff On which the helpless lean, And he will make their lot in life, More blest than his has been, BLIND JOHN. " And there he sadly struggles on, A heavy laden hack, And oh, how often in the midst, He's tempted to look back ; But timt mmt not be wasted thus, In unavailing tears, Or want will catch him in the vale, The gloomy vale of years. *' Now see him bending on his staff, His locks are thin and gray. And life that was so bright before, Is all a winter's day ; And this new generation's ways, He cannot understand. So changed is all, — he feels himself A stranger in the land. ** And o'er the happy days of youth, He will, he must repine, For oh, the world is nothing now, To what it was lang syne ; And memory's lamp is waning fast, "With faint and fitful gleam, 109 M I i I s, !'! I ;> 1 'rr iul" 110 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. i rti i:i The living and the dead are mixed, Like phantoms in a dream. ** But childhood's streams are laughing yet, Its fields are fresh and fair, And now, a little boy again, The old man wanders there ; Then feeble as a little child, Upon its mother's breast. Resignedly he leans his head, And sinks into his rest." I THE GREAT OLD SEA. Ill THE GREAT OLD SEA. M All hail again Atlantic Sea, I've sought thy sounding shore, To look upon thy face again, And hear thy wild uproar ; An awful world of wonder thou Hast ever been to me. With thy secret caves beneath the waves, Great, old sea. 'i Thou'rt still the same mysterious deep, Thou wert in days of yore, When first a wondering little boy, I Ustened to thy roar ; how my bosom did expand, When first 1 gazed on thee, With all thy sweep, as wild as deep. Great, great sea. i '. p . i i' I ' f ^ ( ! 1 Mi i s! 112 MlSCELLANKOrS POEMS. The iron rocks are rent by time. The mountains wear away, The cliffs grow hoary with the yta^s, The hills are old and gray, And generations pass away, Like foam bells upon thee, Ajjd when I'm gone thou'lt murmur on, Great, old sea. I love thee when the winds are laid. And thou art all at rest, 1 love thee when they revel wild Upon thy troubled breast. But O what can I ever know, What can I sing of thee. Thou myst'ry, thou infinity. Great great sea. I WINNA (»AE HAMK. 118 I WINNA GAE HAME. I winiia gae back to my youthfu' haunts, For they are nae laiiger fair, The spoiler has been in the glades so green, And there's sad sad changes there ; The plou' has been to the very brink, O' the lovely Locher fa', And beauty has fled wi' the auld yew trees, And the bonnie wee birds awa. 1]' t ! '4' ' i .p. , Young Spring aye cam the earliest there, Alang wi' her dear cuckoo, And the weary Autumn lingered lang Wi' her lonely cushy-doo ; And peace aye nestled in ilka nook, O' the bonnie gowany glen. For it's always Sabbath among the flours, Awa' frae the haunts o' men. I 'iW i II* if 1^ h M 114 Mi8CKLLAN£OUS POEMS. How aft hae I i)auscd in thae green retreats, O' the hare and the tbggy-bee, While the lintie lilted to his love — As blithe as a bird could be ; And the yorlin sang on the whinny knowe. In the cheery morn o* spring, And the laverock drajjt frae the cloud at e'en, To f'auld u}> her weary wing. :iii I And the mavis sang in the thorny brake, And the blackbird on the tree, And the lintwhite lilted to his love, Far down in the gowany lee ; And the moss, and the cress, and the crawflour crept Sae close to the crystal spring. And the water cam wi' a laughin' loup, And awa' like a living thing. And it sang its way through the green retreats, In a voice so sweet and clear, That the rowan listened on the rock. And the hazel leaned to hear ; And the water lilies raised their heads, And the bells in clusters blue. I WINNA GAK HAMK. And the primrose came wi' ita modest face, A' wat wi' the balmy dew. 115 And the hoary hawthorn hung its head — As lapt in a blissfu* dream, While the honeysuckle strained to catch The murmurs o' that stream ; And the buttercup and the cowslip pale. To the green green margin drew, And the gowan cam and brought wi' her The bonnie wee violet blue. ti §'- ! And the red red rose and the eglantine, And the stately foxglove came, And mony an' mony a sweet wee flower, That has died without a name ; While the burnie brattled down the brae, In her ain blithe merry din, And lept the rocks in a cloud o' spray, And roared in the boiling lin. And churned hersel into silver white, Into bubbles green and gay, M. : i'f. Vri i 116 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. i And rum1)led round in her wild delight, 'Neath the rainbow^s lovely ray ; And swirled, and sank, and rose to the brim. Like the snawdrift on the lee, And then in bells o' the rainbow's rim, She sang awa' to the sea. But the trees are felled and the birds are gane, And the banks are lone and bare, And wearily now she drags her lane Wi' the heavy sough o' care ; And fond lovers there shall meet nae mair, In the lang lang simmer's e'en, To pledge their vows 'neath the spreading boughs^ Of the birk and the oeech sae green. In a' my wanderings far or near, Through thir woods sae wild and lane. There was still ae spot to memory dear, That I hoped to see again ; But I'll no gae back, I'll no gae back, For my heart is sick and sair, And I coudna' bide to see the wreck 0' a place sae sweet and fair. I WINNA (iAE HAMK. 117 % ' But why should I mourn o'er the haunts o' youth, "Why sigh over beauty garje, For it's come to this, oh a waefu' truth, Man lives but by bread alaue ; And all must bow to the works of art, To the sound of wheels and steam, And the poet tear from his bleeding heart, His dear, his delightful dream. U IS, i .:'i<'. ' I liii ■' i 118 MISCKLLANEOUS FOEMS. MYSTERY. Mystery ! mystery ! " All is a mystery, Mountain and valley, and woodland and stream, Man's troubled history, Man's mortal destiny. Are but a part of the soul's troul>led dream. Mystery ! mystery ! All is a mystery. Heart throbs of anguish and joy's gentle dew. Fall from a fountain. Beyond the great mountain, "Whose summits forever are lost in the blue. Mystery ! Mystery ! All is a mystery, The sigh of the night winds, the song of the waves ; The visions that borrow Their brightness from sorrow. The tales which flowers tell us, the voices of graves. MYSTERY. Mystery ! Mystery ! All is a mystery, Fain would we drink of the immortal dew ; We are all weary, The night's long and dreary, Without hope of morning, O what would we do. 119 1 1 1.!:: r !S; JS. t 111 I ''i 120 MISCKLLANEOUS POEMS. I ill i THE SEER. The temple was a ruined heap, With moss and weeds o'ergrown, And there the old Seer stood entranced, Beside the altar stone ; Time's hroken hour-glass at his feet, In mouldering fragments lay ; And tomhstoues, whose old epitaphs "Were eaten all away. He pointed ever and anon, His eye fixed upon air, While thus he talked to shadowy forms, Which seemed to hover there. '* On, on, to the regions lone, The generations go. They march along to the mingled song Of hope, of joy, and woe. On, on, to the regions lone. For there's no tarrying here, i i ,'S THE SEER. 121 And the hoary past is joined at last, By all it held so dear. " There, there, on the edge of air. How fleetly, they do pass, I see them all, both great and small, Like pictures in a glass. Long, long, is the motley throng, Of every creed and cliuie, With the hopes and fears, the smiles and tears, Of the young and the olden time. , •ivi I I? . " Round, round, on their earthly mound. The laden ages reel. No creak, no sound, to the ceaseless round, Of Time's eternal wheel. " There, there, with their long gray hair, Are the patriarchs of our race, A glory's shed on each hoary head, As they pass with solemn pace ; Earth, earth, there were men of worth. When they were in their prime. There was less of art, and more of heart, In that happy golden time. 122 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. W ill A i i^ "There, there, are the ladies fair, Who danced in the lordly hall, And the minstrels gray, whose simple lay, Was a joy to one and all ; Fleet, fleet, were your fairy feet. And ye knew the joy of tears, While the minstrels wove the tale of love, With its hopes, its doubts and fears. *• There, there, still fresh and fair, I see them march along. The bowmen good, in the gay green wood, And I hear their jocund song ; See, see, how the green oak tree, With shouts they circle in. And the stakes are set, and the champions met, And the merry games begin. " Round, round, on their earthly mound, The laden ages reel, No creak, no sound to the ceaseless round, Of Time's eternal wheel. " Hold ! hold ! ye were barons bold, I know by the garb ye wear, § THE SEER. 123 The lofty head and the stately tread, And the trusty blades ye bear ; Where, where, are your mansions rare, And the lordly halls ye built ; Gone, gone, and how little's known Of your glory or your guilt. i " Away, away, as if to the fray, Ah, there they madly rush. And in their path of woe and wrath, There's a dark deep purple blush ; Here, here, like the Autumn sere, The hoary Palmers come, Their tales they tell, of what befell. And the listening groups are dumb. " Round, round on their earthly mound. The laden ages reel, No creak, no sound, to the ceaseless round, Of Time's eternal wheel. .'::, i , " Lo ! lo ! what a splendid woe. Yon rearward host reveals. It marches there with its golden care, To the sound of steam and wheels ; •r-il If. ■ WA' l\- 124 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. Speed, speed, oh gaile and greed, Are surely a monstrous birth, Let wan despair, weave fabrics rare, And Gold be the god of earth. ** Oh, oh, what a sigh of woe, Is from its bosom rolled, What faces peer like winter drear, 'Mid the glitter and the gold ; Still, still, amid all this ill. There are souls with a touch sublime. Who nobly strive to keep alive, The hope of a happier time. " Round, round, on their earthly mound. The laden ages reel, No creak, no sound, to the ceaseless round. Of Time's eternal wheel. " Hail ! hail ! to those shadows pale. For they were the men of thought. And the crags were steep and the mines were deep, Where painfully they wrought ; Speak, speak, why the secret keep. This mystery I would know. THE SEER. 125 Say, what is breath and life and death, And whither do we go ? ** Still, still, not a word ye will Vouchsafe to my greedy ear. The crags are steep and the mines are deep. And I can only hear — On, on, every age has gone. With its burden on its back. And spite our will with our good and ill. We follow in the track. l-\ ! I . II " Round, round, on their earthly mound. The laden ages reel, No creak, no sound, to the ceaseless round, Of Time's eternal wheel." J'.- ! ■ ■■ ; y\ 126 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. WE'RE A' JOHN TAMSON'S BAIRNS. O come and listen to my sang, -Nae matter wha ye be, For there's a human sympathy. That sings to you and me ; For as some kindly soul has said, All underneath the starns. Despite of country, clime and creed, Are a' John Tamson's Bairns, r^iiti .1 ! The higher that we climb the tree, Mair sweert are we to fa', And spite o' fortune's heights and houghs, Death equal — equals a' ; And a' the great and mighty anes, Wha slumber 'neath the cairns. They ne'er forgot tho e'er sae great. We're a' John Tamson's Bairns, There's heroes mang the high and low, There's beauty in ilk place. » I we're a' JOHN TAMSOn's BAIRNS. There's nae monopoly o' worth, Amang the human race ; And genius ne'er was o' a class, But like the moon and starns, She sheds her kindly smile alike, On a' John Tamson's Bairns. 12; \\\ \i There's nae monopoly 0' pride, For a' wi' Adam fell, I've seen a joskin sae transformed, He scarcely kent himsel ; The langer that the wise man lives, The mair he sees and learns, And aye the deepc i- care he takes, Owre a' John Tamson*s Bairns. There's some distinction ne'er a doubt, 'Tween Jock and Master John, And yet its mostly in the dress, When every thing is known ; Where'er ye meet him, rich or poor, The man 0' sense and hams, By moral worth he measures a' Puir auld John Tamson's Bairns. ■: 1 i ' i f ■ ! hi j ...i 1 ! ', ^ ■ 41 128 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. There's neither country nor kin, But has some weary flaw, And he's the Hkest God aboon, Wha loves them ane and a' ; And after a' that's come and gane, "What human heart but yearns, To meet at last in light and love, "Wi' a' John Tamson's Bairns. WRITTEN AT THE GRAVE OF * * 129 ■t Ij WRITTEN AT THE GRAVE OF * * * * Stop traveller beside this grave, Which Spring has newly dress' d, A heart sincere is mouldering here, Tho' long with doubt oppress' d; He slumbers on his mother's lap, Earth claims her kindred clay, From doubt's dead sea and darkness free, His spirit soars away. He talked with seers and sages gray, And with the men of mark. And found them all, both great and small, But groping in the dark ; He went to nature, tried to pierce The mystery of her plan, The more he knew, the more he grew, A sad and solemn man. The world was but a prison house, A strange a mystic hall. ■ ■■; ■ \Vi\ I)' > 130 MISCELLANEOUS I>0EM8. ,' £ I ■ fl !? Problems profountl all hung aroiiud, With writing on the wall ; Through (' ly and night most reverently^ He pondered on its lore. The cloud of doubt compassed about, Still thundered " Sleep no more.' ?' Oh how he strove but to believe, And all earth would have given. To have the faith that smiles in death, '^o have the hope of heaven ; He asked and still the answer was, ** This ye can oidy know — The realms are dumb from which you come, As those to which you go." This living world is all afloat. Time bears it like a breath. Our hearts she heaves like Autumn's leaves, Upon the shores of death ; Tho' much he thought and moralized, Upon her mighty river. He saw but wreck and waves that break. For ever and for ever. WRITTKN AT THK (JUAVK OF * * And mystery on mystery, Encompassed liim around, lie never caught the liglit he sought, But darkness more j)rofound ; Go, traveller, nor deem his heart. Was hardened as the clod. He sought the light, he sank in night, Then leave him to his God. 131 .: i ^ If M 132 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. ;' M ELDER JOHN. ft I* I .. A rev' rent man was Elder John, -Tho' but of low degree, A bonnet blue upon his head, And garters at his knee, His coat was o' the hodden gray, Wi' wally flaps ahin, His stockings o' the rig-an-fur, And buckles on his shoon, His plaid was o' the shepherd's gray, Which hapt him snugly roun, His waistcoat far below his waist, Wi' pouches hangin' doun. They didna ken the man wha judged, But by the dress he wore, And yet for that auld world garb, We loved him more and more ; For tho' it was sae eldrish auld, His heart was fresh and young, ELDER JOHN. And wisdom-laden were the words, Which drappit frae his tongue, And to the idols o' the age, His knee he wadna bow, For simple souled sincerity. Was on his manly brow. Tho' he was doure on points o' faith, He cherished love and hope, And if he bore a grudge ava, That grudge was to the Pope ; Despite the world and the flesh, A Godly race he ran, And yet he had his wee bit faults, Like ony ither man, And through the country far and near, Nae ane was better known, And lang he'll be remembered there, As guid auld Elder John. Though he was nae philosopher, Tho' logic he had nane, Yet kent he truth frae falsehood, by A system o' his ain ; M 133 i I •'1 h %] M 134 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. itM'ii Jill : mu I'll For he had watched the ways o' men, E'en from his eprly youth, And thought the world might a' be richt. Would men but speak the truth ; For aye he said that a' the ills, Society is dreeing, Spring from our want o' faith in truth, Ami frae our love o' leeing. His heart was in ilka thing he did, In every word he said, That e'en Jock Jaup the wicked loon, Poured blessings on his head ; Yet when injustice roused his wrath, O fearfu' twas to see, Tlie thundercloud upon his brow, And lightning o' his e*e. And when the rich would wrong the poor, John always stept between, And fought them wi' his rackle tongue. And wi' his awfu' e'en. And how the tall and stately knight. Of lineage long and high. ELDER JOHN. Would feel he was no lordly soul, If Elder John was by ; And when he tampered with our rights, O ! twas a sight to see, How nervously the Knight did quake. Beneath the elder's e'e ; Tho* backit by the minister, And mony a cringing laird, John foucht them a' tho he was but The lord o' a Kail-yaird. 135 For titled, tall impertinence, Could never put him down, And he was just the man to give, Oppression frown for frown ; The favours o' the rich and great, He never strove to win, And he would doflP his bonnet blue. But to the God aboon. Yet honoured worth whenever found, As few poor mortals can. For, paying homage still he kept. The dignity of man. i • \ 'M t,i -\ 1'. ij t" ill i It i 1' li: ^ ' 5 > tt I 136 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. And yet his heart was formed for peace, Wi' mouy a gushing spring 0' sweetest human sympathy, Where liope would sit and sing ; And how he loved tiie bonnie birds, That warbled 'mong the bowers, The harmless lammie on the lee, The children and the flowers ; And ofte'.i at the gloamin hour. When stars began to gleam, Ye'd meet him by some ruined wa'. Or some auld haunted stream. But witli his fathers long ago. He's laid him down to sleep. Nor want, nor woe, nor wicked men. Shall mar his slumbers deep. Farewell, brave John, thou wert the last Of an old pious race ; And would that Scotland now-a-days. Had such to fill your place ; And may thy grave be ever green, Thy memory ever dear, And be thine honest epitaph — A hero slumbers here. LOVELY ALICE. 137 LOVELY ALICE. ^ Awake, lovely Alice, The dawn's on the hill, The voice of the mavis Is heard by the rill ; The blackbird is singing, His song in the brake, And the green woods are ringing, Awake, love, awake ! ■! I ■ ■ .1 ,V I I ' , :fl I The wild rose is blushing, The pea is in bloom, The zephyr is brushing The lang yellow broom ; But thy voice is sweeter Thau birds on the tree, And joy is far deeper. Sweet Alice with thee. I I : ; I ^'15 I If i ., Ill i' ; 138 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. The voice of lone Locher, Comes mellow and sweet, More welcome to me were The fa' o' thy feet ; The hawthorn is hoary, And rich with perfume. But thou art the glory Of nature in bloom. Far deeper the joy, love, Would nature impart, Were I but the lord of Thine innocent heart ; And *neath fortune's malice I ne'er would repine, Wert thou, lovely Alice, wert thou but mine. JOHN TAMSOn's address. 139 1 1 ■■ i • i ! i JOHN TAMSON'S ADDRESS TO THE CLERGY IN SCOTLAND. Attend ye reveread gentlemen, Of a' denominations, For as ye are so guid yoursels, At gien exhortations ; Ye*ll surely hear me for a wee, W^hile I ca' your attention, To twa three things nane but a frien Would ever think to mention ; -M I would be very loath indeed, To vilify or wrong you. For there are high heroic souls, And christian men among you ; I might speak pleasant words no doubt, The knave is always civil, But he's the man who speaks the truth. And shames the very Devil. i Jl 96 ; 140 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. I'll tell you without mincing much, The things which have incensed me, And ye wha' fin the bonnet fit, Will first cry out against me ; Now if the church we've loved so long, Is falling into ruin, Then let me whisper in your ear, 'Tis mostly your own doing. Just let me tell ye as a frien, Ye make an awfu' blunder, Whene'er ye lend yoursels as tools, To help the rich to plunder ; Ye lose the love o' honest men. And ope the mouths o' scorners. And make your faithful brethren weep Like Zion's waefu' mourners. The Devil's taken now-a-days, To selling and to buying, And drives a thrifty thriving trade, In little legal lying ; He's pleading now in a' our courts, He's in amang the jury, rOHN TAMSiON's ADDRKSSJi. And i'ven 'neath the iii'ljre's wio- lie's no afvrtid to courie. Lang, lang in councils o' the state, He's dodged and he's dissembled, And never absent night nor day, Frae Parhanient assembled , He's even in the pulpit too, And turns the flattering sentence, And bauds your tongues wheu ye should ca' Fat sinners to repentance. He makes you turn in twenty ways Yet aye stick to the strongest, And mince the Bible to suit them • Whase purses are the longest ; To heap the thunders o' your wrath Upon the poor transgressor, But daurna for your souls attack, His wicked proud oppressor. Ye needna preach to weary toil, About the christian graces, As lang's ye wink at wickedness, When seated in high places ; 141 ^H\ I'i 1 1--' i ,:il| ■; I- f^' t.. 142 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. Ye canna get us to believe, That poverty's nae evil, 'A.nd so ye say it's sent by God, To keep us frae the Devil. ' There witty Will, he slyly asks. And thinks it is a rare joke. How God's afflictions always fall Upon the heads o' puir folk ? Will may be pious, tho' he'll no Be plucked like ony pigeon, He may abhor a cringing priest. And yet hae some religion. )f heathens and their horrid works, Why gie us siclike doses, And nae word o' the heathendom Beneath your very noses ; Why prose about the slaves abroad, Bought, sold, and scourged to labour, And ne'er a word o' sympathy, About the slave— your neighbour. 'Bout ''ils that are far awa. We canna bide your prattle, JOHN TAMSON S ADDRESS. Unless ye' 11 help our home-bred slaves, To fight their weary battle ; I wadna hae you fill your veins Wi' the blood o' the Howards, But that's nae reason why ye should Be arrant, moral eowards. Awake, if ye would longer be The pilots that would steer us. Attack the vices o' the age. Be up, be moral heroes ! Tell Sutherland's high mighty Duke, Tell Atholl without fearing. The Devil keeps a black account, Against them for their clearing.* And dinna let Breadalbane slip, Loch and his tribe beset them, 143 • The cruelties inflicted by the Duke of Sutherland, Atholl, aud Breadalbane on their poor clansmen weru so revolting, that the mas- sacre of Glencoe appears merciful in comparison. For a full account of these barbarities, perpetrated under the eye of the British Govern- ment, in the 19th century, sf>e Gloomy Memories, by Donald M'Leod; a book without literary pretension, but which reveals a tale of horror, at which Scotchmen may well blush - Vn ;i ;! t ■ I i I ill i m i If ■■■* : Mi m 144 MISl KLI.ANKOU8 l>()i:MS. We'vT nae use lor n dcil ava, If thai he disna «j;ct thoin ; By Hre and famine thev have done The work of extirpation, • And hounded out a nohle raee, The hulwark of the nation. Sadly they left their mountains hhie, To go they knew not whither, Or far amid Canadian wilds, Sigh for their hills of heather ; Tell countv lairds ve'll tolerate Their hothies black nae longer, Try whether Christianity Or mammon is the stionger. Explore the dreary vaults o' toil, Where fashion never ventures, The Saxon slaves in sweating caves, Where daylight never enters ; Tell tyrants ye are watching them, Tho' ere so deaf they'll hear you, And a' the lazy vampire crew, Will baith respect and fear you. V It JOHN TAM80N S ADDRESS. 145 And if ye canna humanizp The heartless purse-proud revers, Ye'll cheer at least the droopiug hearts 0' hungry, starving weavers ; Wherever there is night and woe, Bring tidings of the morrow, let the church be as of old, " The sanctuary of sorrow." Leave forms to flunkeys and to fools, They never made a true man, Preach Christianity as 'tis — A thing intensely human ; Be as your lord and master was. The shield of the forsaken. And dying faith will spread her wings, And into life awaken. i ; ■ ■ li It V r I ^iil i 1 1- 146 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. ' THE FLOWER OF THE SPEED. "Where Speed rolls her waters x\way to the lake, Through quiet green pastures And tangled wood brake, There lives a fair maiden A monarch might own, Yea, pledge for her favour His kingdom and throne. No cold marble beauty, No angel is she. But a sweet mortal maiden Who smiles upon me ; A creature of feeling. Of hopes and of fears, Of joys and of sorrows, Of smiles and of tears. She's fair as the gowans On Scotia's green braes. i THE FLOWER OF THE SPEED. And dear as the memory Of youth's happy days ; Her ringlets are golden, Her eyes are of blue, And the heart in her bosom Is tender and true. That bosom's a fountain Of thoughts pure and fair, And the streams of affection Are aye gushing there ; And long by that fountain May peace spread her wing, And joy love to linger. And hope love to sing. And ne'er may she sigh O'er affection's decay, O'er loves and o'er friendships All faded away ; And faithful the Ijver Who's favoured to lead, To love's holy altxr, The Flov/er of the Bpeed. 147 1 ■ .■•:5' t Ui . i 1 !i tr.'i' 148 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. THE GENTLEMAN. ■M '.ii J'! ■' V It isna goud, it isna gear. It isna walth o' Ian, It isna polish, art or lair, That makes the gentleman. Auld nature stamps him in her mint. And trains him in her school. And laughs at a' the counterfeits, We make by square and rule. Its no the outward sleek attire, Nor jewels on the han, But its the living heart within, That makes the gentleman. I've met him in a hame spun coat, And shook his hardened haun, I've met nim in a cozie bield, The laird o' a' the Ian. THE GENTLKMAN. I've met him in a silken rohe, Wi* titles to his name, But high or low, or rich or poor, I've found him aye the vsarne. 149 The thinking head, the feeling heart. To him are ever dear. He honours them as loyally, In peasant as in peer. ' I Nae sma suspicious thochts disturb, His faith in human worth. He still believes there's such a thing, As friendship upon earth. He calls things by their proper names, With him a knave's a knave, A prince may he a l)eggar born, A lord may be a slave. He never sanctions party work. With either tongue or pen, His creed is simply, *' Honour God, AtuI love your fellow me7i." 1 i ** 150 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. He never speaks but as he thinks, Yet hates to find a flaw, Ae face can always serve his turn, Nae need has he for twa. E'en for the very warst o' folk, He has a heart to feel. And finds some hidden virtue in The biggest neer-do-weel. Wlio still for [)oor humanity, Does a' the good he can. And does it through a brother's love ! that's the gentleman. ii'i ON THE PRINCk's VISIT, 151 1 ■' • i ON THE PRINCE'S VISIT. Come sound a welcome to the Prince, Let every head uncover, In honour of Old England's hope, And of his Sovereign Mother ; A loyal band with heart and hand, Come join each Whig and Tory, And be the toast from coast to coast, Her moral worth and glory. O may our land of maple green, The land of lake and river, The brightest gem in Britain's crown, Be British blue for ever ; Long may our sons and sires rejoice, Each heart leap at the story, Of Britain's right of Britain's might, Of Britain's power and glory. n 1:' ' ,1, 1 '.V T t V 162 MISCKLLANEOUS POKMS. Long may she rear the sturdy race, Which laid her deep Ibuiidatioiis, The brain and bone i.hat in..de her tlirone, Tile bulwark of the nations ; Long may she reign o'er art's domaii», Her flag in peace be furled, And on her isle sit throned the while, ^ The glory of the world. Long may she have a loyal race, Of peasants in her valleys, And he their humble hearths secure, As is their irionarch's palace ; Success attend her sons of toil, Her merchant prince's navies, And still a long succeeding line, Of Jennings, Watts, and Da, vs. Aud in her Legislative halls, When truth with falsehood tussels, O may she never iack the breed, Of Ilampdens and of Uussells ; The homebred knaves in church or state, May British pluck undo'em, ON THE PRINCE S VISIT. And smite him with the thunders of A Chatham and a Brougham. Long may she keep an iron duke, To thrash unruly neighbours, And keep her hearths and homes secure, From cunning French invaders ; But may she never seek the fight, Nor shun it Hke the Quakers, But when it comes have handy by. Her Nelsons and her Napiers And when upon her distant plains. Rebellion's wave is rolling, She'll send a Highland hurricane. With sturdy, staunch Sir Colin ; But may she never strike the blow, As long's she can avoid it. But still be hers the powerful arm, And thinking head to guide it. May wisdom guide the Prince's heart. And from all ill preserve it. 153 n V ■ f ; I .I'l 154 MI8CELL/VNKOUS POEMS. And we'll be true to him, if like His mother he* II deserve it ; Here's to the Qu?en with loyal mien, Come join me every true man, For on her hei ^ht of power and might, Her heart h >.3 all the woman. OLD ELSPETH S LAMENT. 155 OLD ELSPETH'S LAMENT. A lone widow woman was Elspeth, Her bairns to the graves were a' gane, And there in her lonely bit cothouse, The puir body leev'd a' her lane ; But aye she was eident and thrifty, Her cow a' her treasure and pride, Nae friens, nae protectors had Elspeth, No nocht in the world beside, And muckle she thocht o' the creature, Wha followed wherever she gaed, A sensible cow was auld Crummie, And kent every word that she said. And memories were linked wi' the creature, A fond mother canna forget, For o' the sweet bairns o' her bosom, It lang was the playmate and pet ; But when the cauld winds o' the winter, Had shook a' the leaves frae the tree - i / i < M r fill I I! 156 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. And hapless wee birdies wer? courin, And snaw took us up to the knee, Puir Crummie got fast in a snawdrift, And perished ere neebours could save. And thus Elspeth sighed and sorrowed, While Crummie was laid in the grave. " Alas ! hae I lost my companion, I hardly can think it is true, I hail hut ae friend in the world. And oh, I'll be desolate noo, Ye were left when the bairns o' my bosom- Were a' ane by ane taen awa ; I kent ye were left me in pity, But noo I'll hae nae ane ava ; And tho' ye were but a dumb creature, Yet ye had mair thocht in your face, And ve had mair sense and aifection. Than some wha belong to our race. '* And noo since ye' re gane, my poor Crummie, Wha kens or cares ocht about me, A puir silly, helpless auld woman, Wha wishes how sune she may dee ; OLD ELSl'KTII S LAMENT. what is this wearisome world, When a' the beloved aiies are gane, And why should a feckless auld woman, Be left broken-hearted her lane ; I'm like yon old tree in the hollow, Whase sprouts are a' withered awa, And naked it s*ands to the tempest, And lang ere the simmer maun fa'. ** I £ jarce kent that I was a widow, "While ilk little bairn was my pride, But noo they're a' gane to their father. And a' sleepin' soun by his side ; And aft througli the watches o' midnight, Ere sleep has crept owre mine e'e. He comes wi' his looks o' affection, And leads ilka bairn to my knee ; And while I look in their faces, I ken -hat my sorrow is vain. And its but a wee while I maun tarry, Till we're a' reunited again. 157 ii: i' i;,: i :"1 " Then farewell my faithfu' auld Crummie, And oh it is part o' my pain. 158 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. * ■! i iris ,1!' lilt m To ken that we've parted forever, And ne'er can meet ither again, "Was't only for me my puir Crummie, Was sent as a comforter here ; Micht there no be some green spot or ither, Whanr she may again reappear. Ah no, the fond wish o' my bosom, I ken is bnt foolish and vain, For oh we hae parted forever. And ne'er can meet ither again." SONG. 159 ■i SONG. Written for the Scottish Gathering, in the Crystal Palace grounds, Toronto, \Uh September, 1869, My heart leaps up wi' joy to see Sae mony Scotchmen here, Sae I maun sing about the laun, The laun we h)'e sae dear ; We a' hae climbed her heathy hills, And pu'd the gowden broom, And wandered through her bonnie glens, Wi' gowans a' in bloom. But oh we ne'er again shall see Her burnies wimplin by. Nor hear the blackbird on the tree. Nor laverock in th<; -ky ; But tho' we've left the hanie o* youth. And wandered iar and wide. In every lake and stream we hear The murmurs of the Clyde. 1! t 160 MISCELLANEOUS I'OKMS. Oh when I left the mountams a', That was a waefu' scene, I didna greet, hut oh I drew The honnet owre my e'en ; Benlomond seemed to hide liis head, Afar within the blue, And Leven with her hundred isles, Was murmuring adieu. %'i We love auld Scotia's hills and dells. And yet fu' wecl I ken, We love them mair that they're the hames O' simple honest men ; Wi' hearts as true as them wha died. Upon the bluidy sod, Ere they would let their freedom go, Or chanaie their faith in God. And should the sleeky Loon o' France, His faith wi' Britain break. We'll help to put the Lion's foot, A nee mair upon his neck ; A Highland host in Canada Will don the kilt again, SONG. 161 And rush their native land to free, Like thunder o'er the main. And brither Scots owre a' the earth, Will stretch a haun to save, They're no the chiels wad sit and see Their mother made a slave ; The spirit of the covenant, Wi' every Scot remains. The blood o' Wallace and o' Bruce Is leaping in our veins. Then still the rightfu' cause maintain, And O whate'er ye do, Be faithfu' still to kirk and Queen, And to yoursels be true ; And still vjrhere honour points the way, O never lag behin', Tho' it should be for naething but The credit o' your kin. S-. I n ' i I'll 'i i:^^ 162 MISCELLANEOUS POKMS. SIR COLIN ; OR, THE HIGHLANDERS AT BALAKLAVA. The Serf's of the Czar know not pity nor mercy, And many a turban is rolled on the plain. Like dust the poor sons of the prophet are trampled, And Alia il Alia, they'll shout not again. Sir Colin, Sir Colin ! why stand you thus idle, Yon dark mounted masses shall trample thee o'er. Sir Colin ! Sir Colin ! thy moments are numbered, The hills of Glenorchy shall know thee no more. Why wake not the pibroch thy fathers have sounded, Which roused up the clansmen in battles of yore, Till downward they swept like the tempests of Avin, Or (lemons all dashing with dirk and claymore. Thy band shall be hacked like the stripes of the tar- tan, M' Donald, M'Dermid, to glory adieu. . SIR COLIN. 163 Gregalich, Gregalich, the shade of thy hero, May bhish for his sons by his own Avon Dhu. Hush, hark! 'tis the pipes playing Hollen M'Garadh, The spirit of Fingal at last has awoke, But motionless all as the giaiH Oaig Ailsa, When foam-crested billows rush it\ to the shock. ■i'l i / ' The Muscovite horsemen roll nearer and nearer, Now slacken a moment, now sweep to the shock, One terrible flash, 'tis the lightning of Albin, One peal and the tartans are hid in tlie smoke. Now sons of the mountain the shades of your fathers, Are looking down on you from yon cloud of blue, Be your souls as firm as the rocks of Craigryston, Your swoop 1, '^ the eagle's of dark Benvenue. It is not the deer ye have met on the heather, That is not thine own Corybrechtain's loud roar, Triumphant emerge from that dark cloud of thunder, Or die and behold the red heather no more. i. a! I I. m irl 164 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. I li The cloud clears away, 'tis the horsemen are flymg — All scatter :d like chaff hy the might of the Gael, One long yell of triumjih while bonnets are waving, And Scotland forever, resounds through the dale. mg— jrael, ale. ' JONNY KEEPS THE KEY O T. JONNY KEEPS THE KEY O'T, My heart is lock'd against the lads, 'Tis little thev can see o't, They needna try to press its springs, For Jonny keeps the key o't. Auld Aunty says I scorn them a', And that I shoudna do it, For lang ere I'm as auld as her, That I may sairly rue it. She says I'm but a pridefu' quean, Or heart I've nane to gie o't. But little, little does she ken That Jonny keepss the key o't. For scorn I'm surely no to blame. There's nane o' them will dee o't. For oh mv heart is no mine ain, For Jonny keeps the key o't. 165 ii r> ■ III i 'I! 166 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. MARY WHITE. D' ye mind o' the lang yimtaer dayy, M-aj White ? When we giied to the Al pa- rick braes, Mary White ? - When I I'u'd the wild rowans. And wi' i delight, 1 hung them in stringy rouii' Thy neck, Mary White ? Tri LV yc mind o' the sang ye wad raise, Mary White? p sang o' sweet Ballenden braes, Mary White ? It coudna be love, but A nameless delight. Which thrilled through my bosom, My dear Mary White ! that was a sweet happy time, Mary White ! I've ne'er had sic moments since syne, Mary White ! When we look'd at ilk ither, And laughed wi' delight ; Yet hardly ken't what for, My dear Mary White ! MARY WHITE. 167 hite? ^hite ? bite? te? We were young, we were happy indeed, Mary White, Noo care's strewn gray hairs on my head, Mary White. My hopes hae a' withered Wi' sorrowfu' blight ; But still ye are green in This heart, Mary White ! And oh ! do ye e'er think on me, Mary White ? Oh ! then does the tear blin' your e'e, Mary White ? Or hae ye lang wak'd frae That spell o' delight, And left me still dreaming, My dear Mary White ? (' 'hite ! 'Tis often I think upon thee, Mary White ; For still thou art dear unto me, Mary White ; For a' that this heart has E'er ken't o' delight, Was nocht to the moments Wi' thee, Mary White ! D' ye *mang the living still bide, Mary White ? Or hae ye crosa'd owre the dark tide, Mary White ? tfl 168 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. ilJ5, ..;' Oh ! how this auld heart wad Yet leap wi' delight, Could I again see thee, My dear Mary White ! 1 1 1 ^Kii i: ij ^Bi m^ ^^H ^^m UmM WEE JEANIE S LAMENT. 169 WEE JEANIE'S LAMENT. My mother sits jmd sighs, And my father hangs his head, Ana he canna speak for sighs. For our wee Johnny's dead. They wrapt him in a shroud. That was whiter than the snaw, And there cam a dolefu' crowd And they carried him awa ! •J: I And they laid him down to sleep Where the willow-tree does wave ; And I often gang and weep At our wee Johnny's grave. The licht o' joy is gane, And there's sorrow in its stead : Oh ! the world is fu' o' pain, For our wee Johnny's dead ! ;| 1 'i ti 170 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS :ii- I1ER0^.S! A.\\ hail to the chiefs of thought, Who wield tlie mighty pen ! That light may at la^t be brought To the darken'd souls of men. To the gifted seers who preach — To the humble bards who sing ; To all the heads that teach In truth's enchanted ring ; To the soldiers of the right — To the heroes of the true ; Oh ! ours were a sorry plight, G^reat conquerors, but for you ! ye are the men of worth ! O ye are the men of might ! ye are the kings of earth, And your swords are love and right wx~ 'Tis not at the beat of drum, Earth's great ones do appear ; HEROES. At the nation's call tliev come, But not with the sword and spear. Then hail to the brave who lead In the humble paths of peace ! To the hearts that toil and bleed, That wrong may the sooner cease ! Oh! what are the robes we wear, Or the heights to which we climb ! 'Tis only the hearts wo bear Can make our lives sublime. 'Tis only the good Ave do, That lives throughout all time ; 'Tis only the faithful few Who reach the height sublime. Then hail to the chiefs of thought, Who wield the mighty pen ! That light may at last be brought To the darken' d souls of men ! To the soldiers of the right — To the heroes of the true ; Oh ! ours were a sorry plight, Great conquerors, but for you ! 171 Ik .5. I .11: P: ■ ' 172 MISCELLANEOUS I'OEMS. li'i TO THE MEMORY OF BURNS. {Written for the Centenary.) All-hail! prince and peasant, the liour that gave birth To the heart whose wild beatings resound through the earth ; Whose sympathies nations nor creeds could not bind, But gushed out in torrents of love to mankind. Let the poor and the lowly look up and rejoice ; The dumb and down- trodden find in thee a voice ; The high and the lordly, in palace and hall, — For thou wert the playmate and brother of all ! The old hoary mountain, the streamlet, and tree, And all the dumb natures are kindred to thee ; The wee courin' beastie, the poor ourie kine, Aie all fellow-mortals — all brothers of thine. Ill Earth's proudest shall perish and sink to the tomb, But thy wee modest flower shall immortally bloom ; TO TllK MEMORY Ol H! RNS. 173 And the poor couria' beastie, expoHtnl to the blast, Shall plead for the human while tnercy will last. Thou brother of sorrow, of doubts, and of fears — Of mirth and of madness — oi smiles and of tears ; With large drops of pity, whieh fall without art — And great gusts of laughter which ring through the heart. 1 1 ■ i I Still laden with rapture the moments do llee, And still " Souter Johnny " is roaring witli glee ; And still on " Mare Maggie " bold Tam is astride — He'll never dismount from that terrible ride ! And well may old Scotland bo proud of thy name, And long may she tiiiuk of thy liovel with shame : Earth welcomes her great oaes with colduess and scorn — What stripes and afflictions her giancs have borne ! ! , Dead heroes, in marble, from memory fade, But warm hearts will weep where thine ashes are laid > And earth's proudest priesthood like shadows flit by — But thou'rt of the Priesthood that never can die ! ml mli III 11 1 174 MISCELLANEOUS POE^fS. TO THE MOON. I 'I 'Tis a lovely eve, and the Lady Mood Is out ill her lake of blue, With its little isles of light and gloom, Where the star=i are wandering through. And ^iie sheds her smile like a veil of dreams, Athwart the earth and sky ; With its mazy deeps and its golden gleams, And its streaks of nameless dye. Away she sails 'mong the amber isles, In her lovely lake of blue ; And the glorious golden-tinted piles. Are slowly heaving through. And the foam-bells follow, pure and bright, In her ethereal track, As she sails away 'mong the hills of light, While the stars are trembling back. TO THE MOON. She follows on, by a glory led, With a heavenly cahn impressed ; For she bears the souls of the happy dead, To the Islands of the Blest. 175 14 ; i 1: ,'; I ' ii I ill I I flu 11 I ? ¥ ii i !I / U' 11 1 A' 'I 176 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. WHAT POOR LITTLE FELLOWS ARE WE! ^ What poor little fellows are we ! Tho' we manage to make a great show : Oh ! Death has a claim on us all, And the king and the beggar must go. How vain the distinctions we make ! Neither wisdom nor wealth can us save ; And the prince and the peasant alike Are journeying on to the grave ! Then why should we lisl^erito aught Which pride or which vanity saith / We're all on the current of time, And bornd for the narrows of death. The shafts " misfortune md fate. Know neiiaer the high nor the low ; We're brothers to sorrow alike — And the king and the beggar must go. LIFE S ENIGMA. 177 1 WE! 3; LIFE'S ENiaMA. An infinite dome, O'er a world of wonder ; An eye looking down On the poor dreamer under. An ocean of wrecks. And beyond it our home ; Each wave as it breaks Leaves us whiter with foam. •. J hi I A marriage to-day And a funeral i aorrow ; A short smile of joy And a long sigh of sorrow. A birth and a death. With a flutter between ; All fleeting as breath — Tell me, what does it mean ? *' if K Tr (., ^B'! i' HI ) ■ |ii.! Pli 178 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. WHERE'ER WE MAY WANDER. Where'er we may wander, What'er be our lot, The heart's first affections, Still cling to the spot, Where first a fond mother, With rapture has prest, Or sung us to slumher, In peace on her breast. Where love first allured us. And fondly we hung. On the magical music, Which fell from her tongue, Tho' wise ones may tell us, 'Twas foolish and vain. Yet when shall we drink of Such glory again. , WHERE ER WE MAY WANDER. 179 Where hope first beguiled us, And spells o'er us cast, And told us her visions, Of heanty would last, That earth was an Ede'i, Untainted with guile, And men were not destined To sorrow and toil. ^^ Where friendship lirst found us, And gave us her hand, And linked us for aye, to That beautiful band. Oh still shall this heart be. And cold as the clay, Ere one of their features, Shall from it deca}^ O fortune, thy favours Are empty and vain, Restore me the friends of My boyhood again, The hearts that are scattered, Or cold in the tomb, rs 180 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. give me again, in Their beauty and bloom. The' green are my laurels, Ana fresh is my fame, And sweet is the magic. Which dwells in a name, How gladly I'd give them, To grasp but the hand, Of her that's away to rhe shadowy land. y.ni Away with ambition, It brought me but pain, give me the big fieart Of boyhood again ; The faith and the friendship, The rapture of yore, O shall they revisit. This bosom no more. MY LOVE IS LIKE THE LILY FLOWER. 181 MY LOVE IS LIKE THE LILY FLOWER. My love is like the lily flower, That blooms ii[)on the lee, I wadna gie ae blink o' her, For a' the maids I see. Her voice is like the bonuie bird's, That warble 'mang the bowers, Her breath is like the hawthorn when It's wat wi' morning showers. And frae the gc/wans o' the glen, F/he's caught her modest grace, And a* the blushes o' the rose, Hae lept into her face. She bears about I kenna hoo, The joy o' simmer days, The voice of streams and happy dreams, Amang the broomy braes. !i ■*ti^''} fli Pil III j:; ! it 182 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. And when the bonnie lassie smiles Sae sweetly upon me, Nae human tongue can ever tell, The heaven that's in her e'e. And a' the lee lang simmer day, _ I'm in a dream divine, And aye I wauken but to wish, O were the lassie mine. THE FIRST SORROW. 183 t I I ■» THE FIRST SORROW. It is the merry month of June, The flowers are fresh and fair, The birds are warbling 'mong the boughs. No sorrow any where. 1 1, The streams are singing as they leap. So merrily along, The trees are bending on the brink, And listening to the song. The apple orchard's all in bloom. The bee is humming by, There's gladness in the gay green earth, And rapture in the sky. The schoolboys in the leafy woods. Are busy at their play, And merrily they shout, for life Is all a holiday. 1 1 m m ■m 184 MISCELLANEOUS i'UEMS. i:'l Ilk III' ) But 8ee a narrow grave is dug, Bciioath the apple tree, And little Johnny's sitting there. Dead Towser on his knee. And tears are streaming from his eyes, A sorry child I ween, For with him Towser never more. Shall gambol on the green. I ; And sadly he looks on its face. For all their joy is o'er They'll hunt the squirrel in the woods, And tree the coon no more. it,; I He wonders how the birds can sing, And he so full of care, And how the children laugh and shout, And Towser lying there. ll.:':' And now he stands and talks to it. And pats it on the neck. And then he sits him down and cries. As if his heart would break. TflK MUST SORROW. And now he tries to tindcrstand, How lite hangs on a broatii, And vainly strives to comprehend. This awfnl thins; called death. 185 ■^1 And now he lays it t^ly, Within the nuV' And covers it, and lootlis The tnrf npon its head. And long he lingers l)y the grave, Unwilling to depart, For this is the first sorrow tliat, Has settled on his heart. But of the world he's livhig in, 'Tis little he does know. And may he never, never taste, A deeper dranght of woe. i :i I i I t : I : ; i It I I ^1 w IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) 1.0 I.I 12.5 2.2 m 1^ IIIIIM 1.8 1.25 1.4 1.6 ===== ^ 6" — ► V <^ '% /}. ^» *> o^ ^ >■>■ Photographic Sciences Corporation 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, N.Y. MS80 (716) 873-4503 b. Ill 186 MISCELLANKOUS I'OEMS. AULD TOWSER. V ■i 11 Ye' re turning auld Towser, Your teeth's nearly gane ; And ye hae a sair faught noo, To hirple your lane. Ah, times are sair alter' d Wi' baith you and me, And the days we hae seen, We can never mair see. I'm wearin* doun wi* you, For Time, weel I ken, Is no a bit partial To dowgs or to men. It canna be lang till We baith get the ca', And gane and forgotten By ane and by a'. AULD TOWSER. But ye were aye faithfu*, Whatever befel j I whiles wish that I could Say that o' mysel. And after your battles. Ye never kept spite— Your bark it was always Far waur than your bite. 187 8 t/. ^r And there was baith wisdom And wit in your face ; And thy stature proclaimed thee The lord of thy race. Baith big, black, and gaucy, A great tousy tyke. As e'er chased a beggar. Or lap owre a dike. > t ^ 1 .; ( '■' ' M» Ye never took up wi' The wild fechtin' dowgs, Your friens were a' social, Wi' lang hingin' lugs ; And they would fraise wi' you, And beek in the sun ; >' ,f J 'fr 't'l .fl m m I'm 188 V MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. Or start up a squirrel, And chase it for t'uu. Great was your contempt for The wee barkin' dowgs, The things that hunt rattons, Wi' noses like pugs ; Whan they would rush out and Bark up in your face. Ye seemed to think shame the/ Belanged to your race. 11 m R>' )i I whiles thocht ye had a Bit spite at the pigs, — Wiiat fun ye had chasing Them doun the lee rigs ? Your bark was mair wicked — It wasna the same That ye gied to the . ars Or ocht about hame. You never were beat whaur The feciitin' was fair, But that time ye tackled The big raucle bear : AULD TOWSER. Yon wrestling and huggin' Was out o' your line, But ye left him some tokens I'm thinkin' he'd min'. And ye were a mad and An angry tyke, That time ye attackit The bees in their byke ; They buzzed out upon you Like deils frae the pit, And ye raged like a creature Deprived o' its wit. 189 Hi !l li.i i If in t"' in And vainly ye barkit, And vainly wad bite. For still they stuck to you Like venom and spite ; And still they come bummin' Like legions o' deils. So like a wise dowg then Ye took to your heels. i i 190 V MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. Ye paid for your knowledge, As I've often done, And then had the wisdom Sic company to shun ; But I was not always Made wiser by pain. For I've sinned and I've suffered Again and again. :1| When folks cam for siller And I'd nane to gie, Ye kent them, auld Towser, As weel just as me ; Ye showed them your tusks, ye "Were ill, ill to please. Oh, the limbs of the law are Faur waur than the bees ! How vou and wee Charlie Would fondle and play. And jink roun the haystack The whale summer day ; He laughin', you barkin'. At fun o' your ain. AULD TOWSER. Till I've wished that I were A wee laddie aorain. And when that he murmured, And sickened and died, No, naething could tempt you To leave his bedside ; Ye sat, sad and silent. By nicht and by day. And, oh ! how you moaned when They bore him away. Tho' some folks may ca' ye A useless auld brute, Yet, Towser, as lang's ye Can hirple about, I'll share my bite wi' ye And then when ye dee We'll bury you under The auld apple tree. And the bairns will greet for you. When they see you laid 191 il' ■^i 4 I ill -4v I i if: i i'l' iiJ' 1;. 5 I i! '! 192 MfSCKLLANEOITS POEMS. All silent in death, 'neath Its bonnie green shade ; And aft by the ingle, They'll ca' you to min', And dear thochts shall aye roun' Your memory twine. 4 BPISTLE TO WILLIAM SMITH. 193 EPISTLE TO WILLIAM SMITH, TEACHER. Dear Bill, — I know you love to scan Man and his mystic nature. And well I know thou*rt quick to see, And far mair apt and gleg than me, At keeking through th? creature. And yet I doubt that like mysel, Ye've bought your knowledge dear, And aft ye've asked wi' tearfu* e'en, What a' this weary world c.»u mean, And why we've been sent hi^re. I i But O ! how very short's the way, That wisdom can us carry, The wisest hae enough to do, And whiles mair hampert to get through. Than either Dick or Harry. i; *: I? I 19 i MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. Well, man is really after a', A strange mysterious fallow, Just now he's soaring like a god — Anon he's sprawling on the sod. And in the mud he'll wallow. Some paint him pure as charity, And some as black's a craw, But as for me, I think they're right, Wha make him neither black nor white, But just between the twa. For O ! the very warst o' folk, Hae something that is good, And when they gang a bit aglee, Let's mind that neither you nor me, Are better than we should. To point the faults o' others out. Is labour worse than vain, If we would make the world true, The first thing that we ought to do. Is to find out our ain. KPISTLi: TO "WILLIAM SMITH. 'Tis but tlic good we do on eavtli, That aye rewards the doing, And oh ! it matters not a wliit, Tho' we should ne'er get cash for it, 'Twill live when earth's a ruin. 195 I ken there's some philosophers, Wha would try to confute us, And tell us that when once we die, When in the silent grave we lie. There is nae mair about us. That's comfort for you. is it not "? Ye weary sons of sorrow, Upon this long and weary night. Shall never, never dawn the light, Of a diviner morrow. Well if. that we're but born to die, And this poor life is all, Then Willie — between you and me, I really canna, canna see, Why we were born at all. 196 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. w I' l1 Or why that nature gave to us, Affections that we cherish. And heads to think, and hearts to feel, If death's on all a final seal, And like the brutes we perish. But Willie, lad, I doubt ye'U think, I've taken to the preaching, But here in this — our Canada, That's a puir trade, and doesna pay, And something waur than teaching. So now I'll quit this long harangue, In hopes that when we dee, There is a place surpassing fair, Where there is neither cauld nor care, Reserved for you and me. THK workman's SONG. 107 THE WORKMAN'S SONG. Come all ye weary sons of toil, And listen to my song, WeVe eat oppression's bitter bread. And eat it far too long. •I. O poverty's a dreadful thing, Her bite is always keen, Oppression's foot is always shod. And greed is always mean. i lii' The great, the greaay multitude, Should neither think nor feel. They've but to lick the hand that holds Their noses to the wheel. Toil may be cheered by sympathy. And want with love be borne. But oh ! it's terrible to bear The tyrant's jest and scorn. I' i^ 198 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. they forget the blood of Knox, Is running m our veins, Or that we e'er have listened to The peasant poet's strains. V O what a joy it is to me, To hear the blessed strain, Which whispers, I am still a man, And was not made in vain. The preachers whom we love the most, They are the sons of song. The bards, God bless them ! never were Apologists of wrong. And often when my heart is sad, When all is dark and drear, Their glorious melodies will fall, In rapture on mine ear. And o'er the dark and troubled sea, A gleam of hope will dart. And rising from the waves I hail, Youth's green haunts of the heart. THE WORKMAN S SONG. 199 ■f> ' I'm back amang the broomy braes, Where byk't the foggy bee, And where the hazel nuts did hang. In clusters frae the tree. How clear the stream gushed frae the rock ! How red the berries hung ! How happily from twig to twig, The Watty- Wag-tail sprung ! How joyfully the Untie sang. Upon the hazel tree ! And I as happy a' the day, As ony bird could be. O, ever blessed be the bards ! Who bring such visions hither ; Without such blessed visitants, My weary heart would wither. ■ 4 >,? jr ■li 200 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. I ih THE OLD EMIGRANT'S SONG TO HIS WIFE. V Near fifty years have fled awa', And fleetly they did flee, Since ye left hame and kindred a* And cam awa wi' me. then ye were a strappin' quean, The pride o' Locher glen. And wha could match my bonnie Jean, Nae stafi' ye needit then. And proud was I my dawtie dear. That day ye were my bride, Nor hae I seen your marrow here. Nor ony place beside. Among the woods o' Canada, We sought anither hame. But here or there, or onywhere> Your heart was aye the same THE emigrant's SONG TO HIS WIFE* 201 And oft when battlin' wi' the heat, Or weary winter's snaw, And when I thocht I would be beat, And rued I cam awa. ye were ne'er the ane to fret, But kept my heart aboon, Wi' smiles sweet as when first we met, By Locher's roaring lin. Your raven locks are changed to snaw, The licht has left your e'e. Your tottering step within the ha' Brings waefu' thochts to me. And changed am I, my dawtie dear. And weerin' doun the brae, And we maun soon be parted here. That makes me dull and wae. Yet we hae little cause to greet, Our live^ have not been vain. If parting here is but to meet, Where we'll be young again. '» m ".-.11 li ■ I 1}, , i m '/ii I li I, \ 1 . A i '^^T^^^^ 202 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. WE LIVE IN A RICKETY HOUSE. We live in a rickety house. In a dirty dismal street, Where the naked hide from day, And thieves and drunkards meet. And pious folks with their tracts. When our dens they enter in, They point to our shirtless backs. As the fruits of beer and gin. :S !1 And they quote us texts to prove. That our hearts are hard as stone, And they feed us ^vith the fact, That the fault is all our own. It will be long ere the poor, Will learn their grog to shun. While it's raiment food and fire, And religion all in one. WE LIVE IN A RICKETY HOUSE. I wonder some pious folks, Can look us straight in the face, For our ignorance and crime, Are the Church's shame and disgrace. 203 II !. We live in a rickety house, In a dirty dismal street, Where the naked hide from day. And thieves and drunkards meet. ■li ■■ti i ■J I t if 204 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. YOUNG CANADA. Ye hopeful youth of Canada, Attend unto my ditty, Ye'll find there's truth in't, tno' it may Be neither wise nor witty, But first let's throw the beaver up, And talk as tail's the steeple, That all the lower world may know, We are a mighty people. We claim the new inventions in The art of public robbing. And for an infant colony, We beat the world at jobbing ; WeVe quacks of every calibre, From him who sells the gum drug, To him who in the rostrum stands. And preaches up his humbug. 4 YOUNG CANADA. A poor but honest limner I, Your portraits let me show you, Not pretty, yet so deeply marked, That all the world may know you ; I tender you some sage advice, 'Twill help to fix your status, You ought to be encouraged lads, So here you have it gratis. 205 '1$ 4 !• iff; ' 'I ^^^'"•^ And as ye' re all born with the gift Of scenting out corruption. No doui)t have I, but lads so 'cute, Will better the instruction. Your fathers are but silly fools, Old relics of a past age, No wonder they can't comprehend. This go-ahead, this fast age. I I' ' i''" r i| 1 The good old souls believe in God, And in a church we joke at. But our belief is in the bank. And in the breeches pocket ; Old superstition vainly tries. To frighten and enslave us, s n U i 1' 206 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. For our new Gospel plainly says 'Tis science that can save us. There's Brunei, Hudson, Stephenson, Their mighty works consider, "Why any of them's worth the whole Apostles put together ; Compare George Comb's philosophy "With that of ancient sages, 'Tis worth all that has doated down, Upon the tide of ages. The poets have reigned long enough, 'Tis time their reign was over, For they must be the Kings henceforth, Who keep the world in clover ; "What's all that Shakespeare ever wrote, Compared but to a railway. It's neither good to eat nor wear. To walk nor yet to sail wi'. And then the Wizard, Walter Scott, With his old world stories, YOUNG CANADA. 207 They're only fit for sucklings, Or old benighted tories ; Religion's good enoup;h, no doubt, To keep the poor from stealing, But it would never, never do, To mind it in your dealing. Tis money rules the world now, It's rank and education. It's power and knowledge, sense and worth, And pious reputation. Get cash, and 'gainst all human ills. You're armed and you're defended, For in it even here on earth, All heaven is comprehended. And now my lads if ye would reach The height of exaltation. Take my advice, let work alone, And stick to speculation ; Work was not meant for gentlemen, It's low and its degrading, And so my lads live by your wits, And learn the tricks of trading. I f i Hjjif' 1if i 4 III 'I li f 208 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. Learn all the loop-holes of the law, And how to wriyyle through them, For many a knave might save his neck, If he but only knew them ; And you must master all the crooks, Of little legal lying ; And all the intricacies of . Hard swearing and denying. Buy up town lots, start shaving shops, And issue out your paper, A bank's a bank, altho' it be A bank of wind and vapor ; The world is filled with pigeons, and Your business is to pluck them. And what were the goats sent for here, But that the wise might suck them. Now all the rowdies in the land. Around you, you must gather. By soft sawder and whiskey punch ! You are a City Father, And having grown by villany, To such exalted stature, !,.! YOUNG CANADA. Set up your beaver, now you're fit To be a Legislator. 209 'If Nl And with the wind in all your sails, Your star in the ascendant, The next thing you must do, is cram The free and independent ; Play your election cards aright, By bribery and lying, And into Parliament you go, With all your colors flying. And now you take your rightful place, Among the sons of Mammon, The full grown representatives Of humbug and of gammon ; Your genius now can show itself, You're in your proper station, By plucking pigeons you have learned The way to pluck the nation. Get some fat office, for you know Man cannot live by suction, ■m ;y; •W'f 210 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. And then retire to your nest, And fatten on corruption ; Then you may sit and take your ease, Nor be by care affected, A good old gray-haired patriarch, By all the world respected. At last when in the grave you're laid, The green turf growing o'er you, Your epitaph will be a lie. As big as e'er you swore to : " A Legislator slumbers here, "Whose heart was all affection. He served mankind, and died in hope. Of a joyful resurrection." ElMTAFH. 211 % 'i»i EPITAPH. J ';*( Here Hugh has laid him down to sleep, His sorrows all are o'er ; And want, the Devil, and the dun, Can trouble him no more. Had earth remained a paradise, Nane would enjoyed it better ; But he was ne'er meant for a world. Of creditor and debtor. ;l( i\, He had a wee faut o' his ain, Or maybe he had twa ; To rake them frae his ashes noo. Would do nae good ava. We own he wasna worldly wise, " A bee was in his bonnet ; " But yet he had a heart for a', Wi' ne'er a flaw upon it. p. V Mi ■tf.n ■ill % 212 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. So we'll not summon up his ghost, His wee bit fauts to tell ; Especially as nae ane kent Them better than himsel. To curb his human frailties, few . More manfully have striven ; So with them we have nought to do, For maybe they're forgiven. I'l. *> Ir t *; * !' -I How happy would the world have been, Could he have made it so ; There would have been no heavy hearts. Nor any tears of woe ; Want would have been a thing unknown, The lads would a' had lasses; And mirth have played the fiddle, aye Amang her social glasses. He loved peace above everything, And often bought it dear ; And want had aye his helping hand, And sorrow had his tear. To wrang a body or a beast, It wasna in his nature ; EPITAPH. And sail* it gaed against the grain, To hate a human creature. 213 m Yet often when his wrath was roused. By cruelty or pride, The burning words that fell frae him, Were very sair to bide ; And how he lashed the tittlin' tribe, Wha deal in spitefu' havers ; And so they splattered owre his name, Wi' wicked clishmaclavers. Some say his love o' charity. Had grown to a disease, But that's a weakness now a days. That ane owre seldom seest And weel I wat ! they needna fear, A general infection ; For in their cauld-rife hearts they bear A certain sure protection. I 1: m "; Si He had his enemies, — a fact They often made him feel ; 214 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. But then he coudna bear a grudge, E'en to the very Deil. Then let his frailties be forgot, And sweetly may he slumber ; And at the rising may he rank, Amang the happy number. V WE LEAN ON ONE ANOTHER. 215 WE LEAN ON ONE ANOTHER. come and lisven while I sing A song of human nature ! For high, or low, we're all akin, To every human creature ; We're all the children of the same — The great — the " mighty mother ; " And from the cradle to the grave, We lean on one another. I ! It matters little what we wear, How high, or low, our station ; We're all alike — the slaves of sin, And sons of tribulation. No matter what may be the coat. With which our breasts we cover ; Our hearts within are of one stuff. And linked to one another. I; ,0!r. :■'■«■ 216 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. The earth beneath's our common home, The heavens bendmg o'er us ; And wheresoever we may turn, Eternity's before us. By pride, and envy, we have been But strangers to each other ; But nature meant that we should lean, V In love on one another. » r J'« With Adam, from the bowers of bliss, We all alike were driven ; And king, and cadger, at the last, Must square accounts with heaven. We're all in need of sympathy, Tho' pride the fact would smother ; And its as little's we can do — To comfort one another. A fool's a fool, the world o'er, Whate'er may be his station ; A snob's a snob, tho' he may hold The sceptre of the nation. And wisdom was ordained to rule, — Tho' knaves aside mav shove her ;- mi Nl WE LEAN ON ONE ANOTHER. That all the human race might live. In love with one another. 217 m A king may need our sympathy, For all his great attendance ; For among men there's no such thing As perfect independence. Tho' great is mighty England's heir, Poor Paddy is his brother ! And from the cabin to the throne, We lean n one another. -.if m ! I* 1, .! ; I' 218 MISCELLANEOU!* POEMS. THE SUICIDE'S BUiilAL. By his own hand my brother died, Oh ghastly was the wound ; And the people said He'd not be laid In consecrated ground. I loved him from my childhood up, He was mine only brother ; "With flashing eye I vow'd he'd lie Beside our buried mother. And at the deepest hour of night, I wrapt him in a sheet ; When all were gone, Then all alone I bore him through the street. I ' THE suicide's BURIAL. I never felt such silence, as The silence of that street ; And yet my fear Wrought in my ear The sound of cominir feet. 219 I t The moon was struggling in the clouds, And not a star Icok'd out ; As all alone I bore him on, Methought I heard a shout. >'M 'i ,(■ : I: Ii li! I paused, and listened, as if I Were rooted to the earth ; And I could hear The laugh and jeer Of revellers in their mirth. Oh ! how they laughed and rioted. And shouted o'er their wine ; No heart was sore. Tor no one bore A burden such as mine. I' I' 1'! ' f'l r 220 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. Oh ! how that laugh stuck in my heart, Till from it leapt a sigh ; Then all alone I bore him on To where the dead do lie. I laid him on our mother's grave, Beneath the lonely yew ; Its branches spread Above mv head, And the silent moon stared through. Then huriedly I scooped a grave ; The last of all our kin, — Unto my breast I closely prest. And gently laid him in. And then I gazed ui)on his face, Yet no tear could I shed ; And then I took A last long look With a loving kind of dread. ill THE SririDE's BURIAL. 221 Oh brother, wlio would once have thought, That it would come to this ; I could not speak, But on his cheek Imprinted one long kiss. But suddenly my heart heat quick, Methought I heard a tread ; A startled whoop And then the swoop Of dark wings overhead. li ■'\\ And there upon a drooping bough, Of that dark lonely tree, Two burning eyes Of monstrous size Were looking upon me. hi; I- I Stood as fascinated fast, By their phosphoric light ; How they did stare And wildly glare Like demons of the night. I 222 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. I cannot tell how long I gazed, All stupid with affright ; At last^they flew From oflf the yew — Oh 'twas a fearful night. I 1:1 Then hurriedly I filled the grave, My brain was burning wild ; In torrents fast Tears came at last. And I wept like a child. I laid the turf upon his head, And when my work was done,. The old church clock, With drowsy stroke. Proclaimed the hour of one. And still at midnight's deepest hour, I startle with affright ; For dreams, how true ! Come to renew The horrors of that night. THE YOUNG HAKE. 3S{3 h THE YOUNG RAKE ; OR, skinflint's last advicb. A Tavern Scene, Come fill your bumpers to the brim, And listen to my story ; For let the world sink or swim, We'll carry on the glorj'. Here's to old misers and their ploys, And may they ne'er consider, It's for sic rantin* roarin' boys, They claut their gear thegither ! 'm :, I i!'i Weel lads I'm frae the Brig o' Dee, My daddie was a miller ; And dying, his advice to me, Was — "Jock claut ye the siller ! For lad ye'U aye hae friens eneugh. As lang as ye hae plenty ; But oh ! ye' 11 hae a battle teugh, If ance the purse grows emptj". ■I" ■ I ;■■ I » ■1 ,i ■m 224 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. "I'm leaving you, my weel-vvoii gear> At least the biggest share o't ; And 80 my hopefu' Johnny dear, \e maun take muckle care o't ; And ne'er let it diminish, Jock, But aye keep adding to it ; Keep an e'e to your ain meal-pock, y For that's the way to do it. r r " Stick to my never-failing rule, Ye've heard me aft repeat it ; It's ane they dinna teach at school. It's " cheat or ye'U be cheated ! " Aye mind ye what the Bible says. Mankind are a' deceivers ; And crooked, crooked are the ways. E'en o' the best believers. " They're fules that fecht 'bout kirk or state, A' parties ye maun flatter ; Do ocht to bring a grist your gate, Your kirk maun be the happer. Frae politics nae good I got, They made me sick and sorry ; THE YOUNO RAKE. But gin that ye can sell your vote, Be either Whig or Tory ! 22.0 In " It matters little wha's in power, The puir man's aye neglected ; But if ye've siller, then be sure, ' Ye*ll live and die respected ; Wi' it you may wear ony coat, Then steadily pursue it ; Ne'er caution, never lend a groat, Or ye may live to rue it. " 'Tween love o' drink, and love o' gear, I've had a desp'rate battle ; My heart beat twa wnys, Johnny dear. Ilk time I wet my thrapple ; li's weel eneugh as lang's that folk. Will phrase and treat the miller ; But when ye come to pay for't, Jock, It's death upon the siller. '' Avoid, avoid it, Johnny dear, It's waur than stupid nonsense ; u ml ■'■Siil 226 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. t si '<•: It ,'' Oh ! what Tve spent is lying here, A wecht upon my conscience, I never paid e'en for a jug, O' puir weak whisky toddy ; But something whispered in my lug — - Man ye* re a silly body. •* The lasses, they will set their caps, Nae doubt, to catch the miller ; Avoid their tea and coukie traps, They'll lay them for your siller. And then their mothers lay sic schemes. And work on simple natures ; They'll turn e'en muckle men to weans,— They're sly, they're double creatures. m''V '* They're never but they're laying schemes,. To catch the thrifty fallows ; But ye'U avoid the cunning dames, As ye would do the gallows ; They* re far mair crafty than the men. If e'er they catch you dreamin ; They'll hae you buckled e'er ye ken. Beware ! beware o' women !" J W THE YOUNG RAKE. Wi' that the body sough'd awa, And a' his troubles ended ; And so his gear to me did fa', And I've the heart to spend it. So here's to misers and their ploys! Somehow they ne'er consider ; It's for sic rantin' roarin' boys, They claut their gear tegither ! 227 II iili Then fill your glasses to the brim, For now ye've heard my story ; The Mill may either sink or swim. We'll carry on the glory 1 228 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. CHARLOCK BAN.* To an old Highland tune- The simmer birds are gane, They're awa across the main, Yet I rove the woods alane, Charloch Ban, Charloch Ban. You promised you'd be here, When the Autumn leaf grew sere, And ah noo its winter drear, Charloch Ban, Charloch Ban. then ye were my pride. By the green Glen-gary side. When ye said I'd be your bride, Charloch Ban, Charloch Ban. Ye were a joy to see, Wi' thy tartans waving free. ♦ FairCbarlie. CHARLOCK DAN. And the garters at thy knee, Charloch Ban, Charloeh Ban, 229 Joy hung o'er wood and lake, And the blackbird in the brake. Sung far sweeter for thy sake, Charloch Ban, Charloch Ban. i Joy had a sweeter beam, There was gladness in the stream, the world was a' a dream, Charloch Ban, Charloch Ban. Now winds are howling loud. Through the weary winter's cloud, And the v, nld is a' a shroud, Charloch Ban, Ciiarloch Ban. m i i j;! 230 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. GENIUS. Why Genius, are thy favorites all The weary sons of woe ? "Why does the cup they have to drink, With bitterness o'erflow ? Some perish hy the fire within, Some by the poisoned cup, Some toiling for a thankless world, Till famine eats them up. Tell me, great spirit, why the fools And knaves are richly fed ? And want, and woe, and misery, Are for the star crowned head ? E'en V hile I spake — a voice replied — " This wretched race is mine ; Ah ! doubly wretched ! for they wear The stamp of the divine. : i GENIUS. *• For rags, and poverty, and pain, And all unseemly things ; Are but the tools, with which 1 make My spiritual kings. The tools are time's and pass away, Upon her mighty river ; But the heart throbs they wake, ren-iain To thrill the world for ever. 231 '4 I ill 1 'ill ** They are the literary saints. The pioneers of mind ; Whose toil enricheth not themselves. But those they leave behind. They are the heralds of the dawn, They are the sacred band ; And they must bear the scorn of those, Who do not understand. " I cast them rudely on the world, Amid its dross and scum ; So that there may be less of such. Through all the time to come. And theirs the keenest sense of right, The deepest taste of wrong ; lii I 11 km 232 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. That they may make injustice feel, Truth's terrible and strong. 'I ♦* Of human weakness and its strength. They are the called to speak ; For by their weakness they are strong, And by their strength they're weak. They are the sum of a)l the world. By them it feels and thinks ; The eye by which it sees, the wing On which it soars or sinks. '^m it- ti f . " The heaven of purity and peace. The hell of sin and shame ; Have wakened in their sleepless souls, A never-dying flame — That over every land and sea. Shall shed its holy light ; That there may be no living soul, Left groping in the night. '' The banner of Humanity, Into the breach they bear, They are the high heroic hearts. The souls that do and dare. GENIUS. 233 They rule the mighty waves of thought. No potentate can stem ; And kings and kingdoms are set up, Or overthrown by them. " And thus their struggles for the right, Their battles with the wrong ; The heavings of their mighty hearts, Leap into living song. For rags, and poverty, and pain, And all unseemly things, Are but the tools with which I make My spiritual kings." H3^ f^'^i I' i m.. 1 ti :i ¥: m 234 MISCELLANKODS POEMS. '-'It IH' pi ■f " S \ ^^■^ "i f* i L V AMERICAN WAR ODE. Up, uj), sons of Freedom, Arm, arm, for the fight! Your country is calling, Arise in your might ; Rebellion and Treason, The bloody flag waves ; Then onward to freedom, Or on to your graves ! The shades of your fathers, Still hovering round. The fields of their glory, Start up at the sound. The spirit of Washington Stalks from the grave, And calls on his children, Their country to save. AMERICAN WAR ODE. 235 Fro'r every true bosom, There bursts the wild cry- We'Il strike for the Union, We'll conquer or die ! And where is the coward. Who trembles, or fears These slave hunting pirates, These old buccaneers 1 ' .i.i 'I'ii , r lit Her arm for the combat. The gallant North bares ; By the Great God of Battles, She solemnly swears. The foot of no Rebel Shall soil the green sod; Where Freedom, fair Freedom ! First fixed her abode. ■- i,' In '■HI ■jli! I Where backwoodsmen triumphed, O'er tyrant and king ; There still the long rifle, For freedom can rins ; The whip, and the shackle, They shall not remain, m if 11 ■1 J ^!ai| 236 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. From the flag of our Union, We'll wipe out the stain. New York ! Pennsylvania ! The war trump do blow ; New Jersey is rising, To rush on the foe ! V The hills of New Hampshire, Have heard the war sound ! And the green peaks of Vermont, The echoes rebound ! And old Massachusetts Responds to the call ; Connecticut ! Maine ! and Rhode Island and all ! Beneath Freedom's banner. Now waving on high. They march like their fathers. To conquer or die. n P\]l LYRICS & MISCELLANEOUS POEMS, By ALEXANDER McLACHLAN. SOLD BY ROT.T.O & ADAM. NOTICES OF THE PllESS, &c. From Sit' Archibald Alison. We have always taken a deep interest in Canada, and will henceforth take a deeper interest, from knowing that it con- tains a citizen so truly inspired with the genius of poetry as the author of these beautiful Lyrics." m From Mrs. Moodie. " Had McLachlan's volume appeared with the name of Burns or Motherwell attached to it, some of his pieces would have been hailed as among the finest productions of poetic genius." From Professor George. " We do not know whether Mr. McLachlan is what is called a learned man, but we are sure that no one but a man of genius could employ language as we find it employed in these poems. It will, we think, admit of "no question that Mr. McLachlan is by far our best and sweetest singer. The address to Garibaldi is, all national predilections apart, equal to 'Scots wha hae wi' Wallace bled,' and we cannot help thinking that were this soul-stirring lyric turned into good Italian, and sung through the streets of Rome and Venice, it would be no feeble auxiliary to the cause of liberty in Italy." U\ From Thomas I). McGee, M.P.P. " Before I leave this topic of our literary indebtedness to Scotland, let me ask any one who now hears me who loves ardently this new country of ours, if he had the choice of bestowing on it, by an effort of his will, a brilliant soldier, or an astute statesman, or a great poet — one who would feed the life of our young nationality out of the perennial springs of li': ili J,,.. OPINIONS OP THE PRESa. ir h :' hib own spirit, — would he not rather endow us with such a poet now, and let the conqueror and the statesmen come when time calls them? if so, then why do we not hail every harbinger of our new day of native literature which appears? Why must we always make our discoveries at second hand of the genius in our midst? Within two or three years Mr. McLachlan has published a volume of poems containing pieces not unworthy — if I may presume to say so — of Tannahill or Motherwell. Mr. Charles Sangster has published a second collection which has won a warm welcome abroad ; and we have in the author of " Saul," a working mechanic who has been hailed in England as a true poet, while here his very name continues unknown. It is by extending to such men as McLachlan, Sangster, and Heavysedge a timely welcome at their own doors, that Canada is to make her way in letters as in commerce and self-government." U: From the Scottish American Journal. Wondering why we have not heard from Bard McLachlan^ though we hope his best excuse is being too busily engaged lecturing in Canada, and rousing up the Scottish heart with flong and elequence. We wont forget him, and take the liberty to use his " Mary White," a sweet ditty that will, after Alec's gray pow has lain lang, lang in some wild Western Canadian kirkyard, be repeated round a thousand lowly fire- eides like what his ain is now, and a kindly word or two spoken over the " ane that's gane." From the Olasgovo Citizen. Mr. McLachlan, the author of this volume, has breathed his hopes and fears, and fine imaginations into tangible verse. Many of the lyrics are ably written and almost sing them- selves while you read them. ROLLO & ADAM'S Selected Stock List of Recent and Important Publica- lions. THE RIVERSIDE-PRESS BOOKS. Note. — Early in tho year 1859, Mr. II. 0. Houghton, a gentleman of education and refinement, and intimately acquainted with the London Publishing IIouse.«i, formed a Company to establish this Press at the Riverside near Har- vard College, Cambridge, Mass., with tho design of Stereo- typing and printing for tho American Publishers after the English models of typographical excellence and execution. IIow readily the American Houses have put into the hands of this Company one and another of the works of our standard Authors and of those of recent important value, the following list shows. In all cases the complete and latest editions, careful! i'^ arranged, have been sent to press; while the works have been printed on highly toned paper, of fault- less typography, and of beautiful finish. The issue of our authors " in c style equal to their merits," cannot fail to be popular with the reading public, while they make a new and vastly improved era in the history of American publishing enterprise. BACON. The works of Francis Bacon, Baron of Verulam, Viscount St. Albans, and Lord High Chancellor of England. Collected and edited by James Spbddino, M.A., of Trinity College, Cambridge ; Robert Leslih Ellis, M.A., late Fellow of Trinity College, Cambridge ; and DouoLAS Denon Heath, Barrisier-at-Law, late Fellow of Trinity College, Cambridge; in 15 volumes, crown 8vo. $1 50 per volume. The first 5 volumes have appeared, embracing the Literary and Professional works. EOLLO A AHAM's SELECTED STOCK LIST. MILMAN. History of Latin Christianity : including that of the Popes to the Pontificate of Nicholas V., by Henry Hart Milman, D.D., Dean of St. Paul's. In 8 volumes, $1 50 per volume. MACAULAY. Critical, Historical, a7id Miscellaneous Assays. By Lord Macahlay, with Memoir, Index and Portrait, in 6 volumes, $1 25 per volume. No such edition of the Essays of this learned and brilliant writer has hitherto aj)peared on either Continent, and no greater tribute could be paid to the great man's memory than this issue from the Riverside Press. Besides the excellence of material, typography, &c., this edition has many new features. The Essays have been arranged in chronological order, and a complete index specially prepared. Appended are several later Essays ; and those rightly attributed to Lord Macaulay not in any previous edition. HALLAM, View of the Stale of Europe during the Middle Ages. By Henry Hall am, in 3 volumes, $1 25 per vol. The Constitutional History of England from the accession of Henry VII. to the death of George II. by the same author, in 3 volumes, $1 25 per volume. This scholarly and elegant edition of the works of Hallam will be gladly welcomed. It is as accurate, more handsome, and greatly cheaper than the English editions. The " Literary History of Europe," by the same author, and uniform with the above edition, is shortly expected from the press. DISRAELI. Curiosities of Literaticre. By Isaac Disraeli, with a view of the Life and Writings of the author, by his son, the Hon. Benjamin Disraeli. In four handsome volumes. $1 25 each. CARLYLE. Critical and Miscellaneotis Essays. Collected by Thomas Carlylb, with notes and portrait, in four volumes. $1 25 each. t I ROLLO & ADAM's selected STOCK LIST. 3 LAMB. The works of Charles Lamb, including the famous Essays of Elia, letters, &c., 4 volumes, $1 25 each. BACON'S ESSAYS with Whately's Annotations. Fine Library edition, $2 50. BURTON'S ANATOMY OP MELANCHOLY. 3 volumes, with antique frontisiiiece, §4. THE POETS. Embracing Byron, 4 volumes; MiltOxV, 2 volumes; Rogers 1 volume; Camprell, 1 volume; Collins, Gray and Goldsmith, 1 volume. $1 25 each. THE STANDARD HISTORIES. Embracing Macaulay'3 England in five volumes, with memoir, additional notes, index, &c. Hume's England six volumes. Milman's Gibbon's Rome, six volumes. $1 25 per volume. The Waverley Novels in 50 volumes, also Lockhart's Life of Sir Walter Scott in 9 volumes, tinted paper, 75c. per volume. ENCYCLOPAEDIA BRITANNIC A. Just completed, the eighth edition of this valuable work, with extensive improvements and additions, and numerous engravings. 21 volumes, 4to, offered in cloth at $li3, or in half Russia, marbled edges, or half calf $150. ■\t\ •ifll m SCOTTISH PUBLICATIONS. A HISTORY OF THE HIGHLANDS AND HIGHLAND CLANS. With Selections from the Stuart Papers. Illustrated with Portraits, Armorial Bearings, Map of Clan Territoric;^. Coloured Specimens of Clan Tartans, Scenery of Important Localities, and Woodcuts. By James Browne, Esq., LL.D., Advocate. In four volumes, royal 8vo, $18 cloth. THE SCOTTISH NATION; or the Surnames, Families, Literature, Honours, and Biographical History of the V 1 ■4 ROLLO & Adam's selected stock list. People uf Scotland. By William Anderson, author of the life, and editor of the works, of Lord Byron, &c., Ac, with 20 original Portraits on Steel, and upwards of 200 on Wood ; besides Autographs, Seals, Views, Genea- logical and Titular Tables, and other illustrative subjects. In course of publication in 3 handsome volumes, vol. 1 now ready, 8vo, cloth $5 50. SCOTLAND ILLUSTRATED, In a Series of Picturesque Views, with Descriptive Letterpress, and an Essay upon ^ the Scenery of the Highlands, by Prof. Wilson. In one volume, demy 4to. Eighty Splendid Engravings on Steel, and numerous Woodcuts, cloth boards, price $6 50. THE KIRK AND THE MANSE. Comprising Views and Notices of the most interesting parish " Kirks and Man- ses" in Scotland, from original drawings, in Tinted Lithography, and in a superior style. The Letterpress descriptions and general introductions are by the Rev. Robert W. Fraser, M.A., Minister of St. John's Edin- burgh. In one volume price $11 50. CHAMBERS' DOMESTIC ANNALS OP SCOTLAND. Z vols., 8vo, cloth, $7. 7^ ft 10 hi SCOTTISH POETS. THE WORKS OF ROBERT BURNS. Notes by Hogo and Motherwell. Life by Hogo. Portrait and numerous aiustrations. 5 vols, small 8vo, cloth, price $5, or in half calf $8. BURNS, ROUTLEDGE'S EDITIONS. Edited by Rev. R. A. Willmott, 1 vol. 12mo, cloth, $1, or in boards 50c. THE WORKS OF ALLEN RAMSAY. Essay on his Genius and Writings by Lord Woodiiocselee. Life by Geobgb Chalmirs ; and a large Appendix. Portrait and numer- ■( 1 ROLLO & Adam's selected stock list. ous engnivings. 3 vols, small 8vo, cloth, price $3, or in half calf $5 25. THE WORKS OF ROBERT TANNAHILL AND JOHN WILSON. Notes and Life by Philip A. Ramsay. Portrait and Vignette, small 8vo, cloth, $1, or in half calf $1 60. THE WORKS OF ROBERT FERGUSSON. Original Memoir J an Essay on his Genius and Character ; numerous Notes and a Glossary. Portrait and illustrations. Small 8vo, cloth, price $1, or in half calf $1 60. THE BALLADS OF SCOTLAND. Edited by Prof. Aytoun, of iJniversity College, Edinburgh, and Editor of Black- wood's Magazine. 2 vols. $3 50, THE ILLUSTRATED BOOK OF SCOTTISH SONGS, from the 16th to the 19th century. 1 vol. cloth, 8vo, $1. POETICAL WORKS OF Wm. MOTHERWELL, with Life, Ac, complete, blue and gold, 15c. MOTHERWELL'S MINSTRELSY, ancient and modern, with Historical Introduction and Notes. 2 vols. $1 50. WHISTLE-BINKIE. A Collection of Scottish Songs. 2 vols. $1.50. POETICAL WORKS OP SIR WALTER SCOTT. Complete, with Memoir, Index, &c. 3 vols., blue and gold, $2 25, the same, author's edition, with Turner's Landscapes, &c. 1 vol. |2 50. The same. Edited by Rev. R. A. Willmott, in Routledge's series, 1 vol., cloth, $1. POETICAL WORKS OF JAMES HOGG, (Ettrick Shepherd) With Life by Prof. Wilson, &c. 5 vols. |5. THE SELECT SONGS OF SCOTLAND, with melodies to which they are sung. Arranged with accompaniments and introductory and concluding symphonies for the piano-forte. Notices, Historical, Biographical, and Crit- ical, of the Songs and Airs appended. In one vol. 4to, cloth, |4, or in half morocco $5. 'il I 6 EOLLO & ADAM'.S selected STO; K 1,!ST, REMINISCENCES OF SCOTTISH LIFE AND CHARAC- TER. By the Very Rev. Dean Ramsay, Edinburgh, $1. HISTORICAL HISTORY OF ENGLAND. By Lord Macaui-av; with the fifth and concluding volume, memoir, notes, index, &c., in the various English, New York, Boston and Riverside y^ditions; at 25c, 50c, .$1 00, and $1 25, per vol. HISTORY OF THE UNITED NETHERLANDS. From the Death of William the Silent to the Synod of Dort ; with a full view of the English and Dutch struggle against Spain, and of the origin and destruction of the Spanish Armada. By Joiix L. Motley, LL.D. Author of the Rise of the Dutch Republic. 2 vols., 8vo. $4. HISTORY OF ENGLAND, from the period day to the present time, Avilh analytical references. Index, &c. By the Rkv. James White, author of the " Eighteen Christ- ian Centuries." 1 vol. 12mo. cloth. $1.50. " This Historj' of England aims to be a standard work, both for students and families. It comprises every striking inci- dent in the chequered story of Old England that has had an influence on the national career." THE FALL OF ROME, to the Rise of thcN^'W Nationalities. By the Rev. W. F. Siieppaud. 1 vol. rinio. clolh. $1.50. HISTORY OF GREECE, Legendary and Historical. By George Guote, Es j. 12 vols, in 12mo. cluth. $9. TREATISE ON THE BRITISH CONSTlTLTlON : its His- tory, Structure, Functions and Working. By Henry Lord Brougham. 1 vol. r2mo. $1.25. THE CONSTITUTIONAL HISTORY OF ENGLAND, from the Accession of (Jeorge III. By Thomas Euskine May, C.B. Shortly expected from American press. I ROLLo & Adam's selected stock list. 7 MILMAN'S GIBBON'S ROME, new and cheap Edition, Index, &c. 6 vols. 12mo. cloth. S'i.Tf). Do. Riverside Press Edition, tinted paper. 6 Vols. $7.50. HUME'S HISTORY OF ENGLAND. New and Cheap Edi- tion, with corrections and improved. 6 vols. 12rao, cloth. $2.50. Do. Riverside Edition, tinted paper. 6 vols. %^M. Do. London Illustrated Edition. 3 vols. 8vo 5 calf. $7.50. By Robert REVOLUTIONS IN ENGLISH HISTORY. Vaugiian, D.D. 1 vol. 8vo. cloth. $2. HISTORY OF CIVILIZATION IN ENGLAND. By Henry T, Buckle. With copious Index. Vol. 1 8vo. cloth. $2.50. ALISON'S HISTORY OF EUROPE. Cheap English Edition, in 12 Vols, and Index, 12mo. cloth. Offered at $11. the same in G Vols. ^ calf. $15, PRESCOTT'S WORKS. Popular Edition 750. per vol. Cabinet Edition, $1 per vol. Embracing Philip II. 3 vols.. Conquest of Peru 2 vols.. Conquest of Mexico 3 vols, Ferdinand and Isabella 3 vols., Charles V. 3 vols., Essays 1 vol. BANCROFT'S HISTORY OF THE UNITED STATES, from the discovery of the American Continent, and its Earliest Colonization, to the War of Independence. 5 vols. 12mo. cloth. $3.75. THE HISTORY OF HERODOTUS. A new English version, illustrating the History and Geography of Herodotus. Embodying the chief results. Historical and Ethnogra- phical obtained in the progress of Cuneiform and Hiero- ■ glyphical Discovery. By George Rawlinson, M.A,, assisted by Col. Sjr H. Rawlinsox, K.C.B., and Sia J. G. Wilkinson, F.R.S. 4 vols. Svo. cloth. $10. % V.I 8 ROLLO A Adam's selected stock list. HISTORY OF ROME. By Thomas Arnold, D.D. ^rom the latest revised Engli h Edition. 3 voL. in one, 8vo. cloth. $3. LECTURES ON THE HISTORY OF FRANCE. By the Right Hon. Sir James Stephen, K.C.B., LL.D. 1 vol. 8 vo. cloth. $1.15. LaLLAM'S works. Embracing "The Middle Ages," " Constitutional History of England," and " Literature y^of Earoi)e." Murray's London, Riverside Press, and Harper's Editions. r ,' \i BIOGRAPHICAL. MEMOIRS OF GEORGE WILSON, Professor of Technology, &c., University of Edinburgh. Edited by his Sister. I vol. 8vo. cloth. $3.75. AUTOBIOGRAPHY, LETTERS AND LITERARY REMAINS OF MRS. PIOZZI. (Thrale.) Edited with notes, and introductory account of her life and writings. By A. Haywari), Esq., Q.C. 1 vol. 8vo. $1.50. THE PERSONAL HISTORY OF LORD BACON, from « unpublished Papers. By William Hep worth D'.xon. $L25. AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF THE REV. DR. ALEXANDER C ARYLE. Containing memorials of the Men and Events of his Time. Edited by J. H. Burton. 1 vol. cloth 8vo. $1.50. MEMORIALS OF THOMAS HOOD. Collectf.d, arranged and Edited by his Daughter, with a prefacf. and notes by his Son. Illustrated with copies from hifi own Sketches. 2 vols. 12mo. cloth. $1.'75. LIFE AND CAREER OF MAJOR JOHN ANDRE, Adju- tant General of the British Army in America. Bj Winthrop Sargant. 1 vol. 8vo. cloth. $1.50. ROLLO & Adam's selected stock list. 9 ESSAYS IN BIOGRAPHY AND CRITICISM. By Petbb Bayne, M.A. New Edition in two Series. $1.25 each. MEN OF THE TIME. A Biographical Sketch of Eminent Living Characters, also of Celebrated Women of the Time. 1 thick 12rao. volume. $2. DICTIONARY OF CONTEMPORARY BIOGRAPHY. A Hand-book of the Peerage of Rank, Worth and Intellect, containing Memoirs of nearly one thousand Eminent Living Individuals of all nations. 1 vol. 8vo. cloth. $2. BRIEF BIOGRAPHIES. A new volume by Samuel Smiles, LL.D. Author of "Self Help." 1 vol. 12rao. cloth. $1.25. LIFE OF GEORGE STEPHENSON. By same author. $1. AUTOBIOGRAPHIC SKETCHES, also BIOGRAPHICAL ESSAYS. Late Volumes. By Thomas De Quin^by. 75c. each. LIFE AND CORRESPONDENCE OF THOMAS ARNOLD, D.D. Regius Professor of Modern History, University of Oxford. By Arthur P. Stanley, M.A., Oxford. 2 vols, 8vo. cloth. $2. MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE AND CHARACTER OF EDMUND BURKE. With an Estimate of his Genius and Talents compared with those of his Great Contem- poraries, &c. By James Prior, Esq. New Edition. 2 vols. $2. TWELVE YEARS OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE IN INDIA, from the letters of Major W. S. R. Hodson, B. A., with personal narrative of the seige of Delhi and capture of the King and Princes. Edited by the Rev. George Hodsom, M.A. $1. 10 BOLLO & ADAM'h selected STOCK LIST. W.^. ; MEMOIRS, BIOGRAPHICAL AND HISTORICAL, of BuLSTKODE Whitelocke, Lord Commissioner of the Great Seal at the period of the Commonwealth. By Professor R. II. Whitelocke. 1 vol. 8vo. cloth. $2. MEMOIRS OF DR. WILLIAM SCORESBY, with illustra- tions of Arctic Phenomena. By his Nephew R. E. ScoRESiiY Jacks' n, M.D. 1 vol. I'imo. cloth. $2. MEMOIR OF THE REV. SYDNEY SMITH, with Selections from his letters &c. Edited by his Daughter Lady Holland, ^ vols. 12mo. cloth. $2. LIFE AND TIMES OF SIR PHILIP SYDNEY, and por- trait. I Vol. 12 mo. cloth. $1. RECOLLECTIONS OF THE LAST DAYS OF SHELLEY AND BYRON. By E. J. Trelawney. 2nd Edition. 12mo. T-oc. AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL RECOLLECTION. By the late Charles Robert Leslie, R.A. Edited with a prefatory Essay on Leslie as an Artist. By Professor Tom Taylor. |1.25. LIFE AND WORKS OF GOETHE WITH SKETCHES OF HIS AGE AND CONTEMPORARIES. By G. H. Lewes. 2 vols. 12mo. cloth. |2.50. ARAGO'S BIOGRAPHIES OF DISTINGUISHED SCIEN- TIFIC MEN. In two Series. |;1.00 each. MRS. JAMESON'S LIVES OF THE ITALIAN PAINTERS. Blue and gold. TSc. MEMORIALS OF SHELLEY. By Lady Shelley. tSe. PORTRAITS OF ILLUSTRIOUS PERSONAGES OF GREAT BRITAIN, from authentic pictures, with Biogra- phical and Historical Memoirs of their Lives and Actions. 10 Vols, cloth. ^15. LiyE AND REMAINS OF THE LATE DOUGLAS JER- ROLD. By his Son Blanchaud Jeurold. 1 Vol. |1. of « R0LI.<1 & ADAM.S SELRGTED STOCK LIST. n LOCKHART'S LIFE OF SIR WALTER SCOTT. New Edition from Riverside Press, in 9 volumes. Vols. 1 and 2 ready. Too. each. LIFE OF GEORGE WASHINGTON. By the Hon. Edwako EvKUETT, LL.D. From the Encyclopedia Britannica. 1 vol. 12 mo. cloth. $1. LECTURES ON THE FOUR GEORGES, SKETCHES OF MANNERS. Morale, Court and Town Life. By W. M. T.iACKEiiAY. ]2mo. cloth. 75c. MISCELLANEOUS. ELSIE VERN ER, A ROMANCE OF DESTINY. By Pkopes^ok 0. W\ Holmes. From the "Atlantic Montlily." 2 vols. TRUMPS. A novel. Hlustrated. By Geouoi;^ W. Cuktw. 11.50. SILAS MARNER, THE WEAVER OF RAVELOE. By the Authoress of " Adam Bede," 1 vol. Tinio. sloth. 75c. RECREATIONS OF A COUNTRY PARSON. 1st Serios. By A. K. H. B. From "Eraser's Magazine." $1.25. Do. Second Scries, shortly from Press. TOM BROWN AT OXFORD. 2nd and concluding volume. By author of " Tom Brown at Rugby," Shortly. ANNUAL OF SCIENTIFIC DISf^OVERY FOR 18G1, or YEAR WORK OF FACTS IN SCIENCE. Edited by J. A. AVklls, A.m. $1.25. ALLENS LIFE OF THE LATE EARL OF DUNDONALD. (Cochran.) 75c. DUMAS" LIFE AND CAREER OF GARIBALDI. 75c. EDUCATION: INTELLECTUAL, MORAL AND PHYSI- CAL. By Herbert Spencer, Es'J. 1 vol. 12mo. cloth. 12 ROLLO & ADAM's selected STOCK LIST. 4'e Pit t THE WITS AND BEAUX OF SOCIETY. By Grace and Pim.ip WiiAUTON, authors of "Qiioens of Society." 1 vol. illiistnited. ^1.50. CURRENTS AND COUNTER CURRENTS IN MEDICAL SCIENCE, with other Essays and Addresses. By Puop. 0. W.HOLMKH. $1.25. OVER THE CLIFFS, a tale. By Mks. Chantkr, (Sister of the Rev. Charles Kingsley.) $1. THE \GLACIERS OF THE ALPS. An account of the origin and ])henomena of Glaciers, &c. By Pkofessor JouN TvNDAL, F.R.S. With illustrations. 1 Vol. $L50. MY DIARY IN INDfA, in the years 1858-9. By William II. RuHSKLL, LL.D., of" The Times." Hlustrated. 2 vols. 15.50. THE SAND HILLS OF JUTLAND. By Hans C. Andersen. 75c. EMERSON'S CONDUCT OF LIFE. Cheap English Edition. 30c. HUGH MILLER'S MY SCHOOL AND SCHOOL-MASTERS. Cheap English Edition. TSc. VESTIGES OF THE SPIRIT-HISTORY OF MAN. By S. F. DUNLAP. ^4. RATIONAL COSMOLOGY, or the Eternal Principles and the necessory Laws of the Universe. By L. P. Hickok, D.D. $2. NEPHALISM THE TRUE TEMPERANCE OF SCRIPTURE SCIENCE AND EXPERIENCE. By James Miller, F.R.S.E., Professor of Surgery, University of Edinburgh, author of " Alcohol, its place and power." 90c. ITALY IN TRANSITION, public scenes and private opinions in the Spring of 1860. By William Arthur, A.M. $1. EVAN HARRINGTON, or \ie would be a Gentleman. A Novel. By George Meredith. $1. V S. IRE LER, fgh, ions A n :■»'■ f i ri ROLLO & Adam's hkleotku stock list. 13 HOPES AND FEARS, or scenes from the Life of a Spinster. By author of " Heir of lUMlclyffc."' 2 volg. $1,50. MODERN HRITISH ESSAYISTS. Embracing Macaulaj, Carlyle, Macintosh, Wilson, Jr'mith, Talfourd, Jeffrey and Alison. 8vo., in cloth, or half-calf. Prices various, from |1 25 to $2 50 per volume. CARLYLE'S WORKS. Embracing Frederick the Great, French Revolution, Oliver (Cromwell, Sartor Resartus, Past and Present, &c. CHARLES KINGSLEY'S WORKS. Two Years Ago, ITypatia, Sir Amyas Leigh, Alton Locke, Yeast, Miscel- lanies, &c. HUGH MILLER'S WORKS. Schools and Schoolmasters, Testimony of the Rocks, Old Red Sandstone, Cruise of the Betsy, Popular Geology, Impressions of England, Footprints of the Creator, &c. PROFESSOR WILSON'S WORKS. Including Noctes Ambrosianae, Recreations of Christopher North, Essays Imaginative and Critical, Tales, Poems. 12 volumes, English Edition ottered at ^l 25 per volume. ISAAC DISRAELI'S WORKS. Embracing Curiosities of Literature, 3 vols. Amenities of Literature, 2 vols. Literary Character of Men of Genius, 1 vol., and Caiu- mities and Quarrels of Authors, 1 vol. $1 GO per vol. COLErTDGE'S COMPLETE WORKS. With Introdnctorv Essay on his Philosophical and Theological Opinions, in "7 vols., 12mo., cloth, %*l 00. HUMBOLDT'S COSMOS. A physical description of the Universe. 5 vols., 12mo., cloth, $4 25. STRICKLAND'S LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF SCOT- LAND. 1 vols., 12mo., cloth, k1 00. BULWER'3 NOVELS. English Edition. 22 vols., at TScts. 14 ROLLO A ADAM 8 SELElTEII STOCK LIST. THACKERAY'S WORKS. rnchi(liu{jr Vauity Fair, I'cndennig, Virginians, Nowcomes, Four Gi'orge^, Esmond, (Jliridtnias Boolis luul l^apcrs. WAVKRLEY NOVELS. Various editions, tlie Ahbotsford Edition in 12 volumes, 8vo., cloth, .^12 00, or i morocco, ijil8 00. MAURY'S PHYSICAL OEOCfRAPHY 0^ THE SEA. 1 volume, 8vo., '^1 50. vPRAGMENTARY REMAINS, LITERARY AND SCIEN- ITFIC, OF SIR HU.MIMIREY DAVY, BART. With a Sketch of his life. ^.3 .50. BUTLER'S LECTURES ON THE HISTORY OF ANCIENT PHILOSOPHY. 2 volumes, 8vo., cloth, f^'i 00. WHEWELL'S HISTORY OF THE INDUCTIVE SCIENCES FROM THE EARLIEST TO THE PRESENT TIME. 2 volumes, 8vo., cloth, ^A 00. HAMILTON'S (SIR W.) DISCUSSIONS ON LITERATURE AND PHILOSOPHY. 1 volume, 8vo., cloth, ^l CyO. LECTURES ON LOGIC, ALSO ON METAPHYSICS. 2 volumes, 8vo., cloth, ^3 00 per volume. CHAMBER'S ENCYCLOPAEDIA. A Dictionary of Univer- sal Knowledge for the People ; new English edition, with Maps and Engravings. Volumes 1 and 2, ^3 00 each. MITFORD'S (MARY RUSSELL) WORKS IN PROSE AND VERSE. 1 volume, 8vo., Library style, ij;! 75. GOODERICH'S BRITISH ELOQUENCE. Embracing the best speeches of the most eminent orators, with biograph- ical sketches. 1 volume, 8vo., cloth, >'3 50. STEWART'S (DUGALD) WORKS. Edited by Sir William Hamilton. Embracing Dissertation on the Progress of Metaphysical, Ethical, and Potitical Philosophy; Elements of the Philosophy of the Human Mind ; Active and Moral Powers of Man. Philosophical Essays, &c., 8vo. cloth, offered at $!2 25 per volume. n'. ■, Pondennig^ I, OInid turns Abbotsford ■ i morocco, J SEA. 1 D SCIEN- HT. With ANCIENT 10. SCIENCES NT TIME. KHATURE I; I 50. C, ALSO *3 00 per of Univer- ition, with )0 each. 3SE AND acing the biograph- r William rogross of Elements ctive and &c., 8vo.