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1 2 3

THE

Howes o' Bijchan^slFar Awa

With Other Poems

. . . BY . . .

CHARLES MIN'TO.

PtTlturt- pareitc <;hnit.T,

•Irv. S.vr. I. 18.

In mercy spare iw when we do our be»t
To make as mueli waste imj)! r an thu rest.

Addison.

MONTR I'LVL .

PRINTED FOR THE AUTHOR

18D6

69982

KiitoriMl ac.or.iinK to Act ..f Parlian.ent In th.- .vcHroneth.m^m.i
t'lgl.t hun.l.e.l an.l nii.ety-six, by Ciiaklks .Mixto, in th.-
omceof the Minister „t Agricuiture and Statistics at Ottawa

PRBFACK

As this is our first public appearance, wc humbly
apologize for the varied shade of our garments, which may
remind the reader too much of the harlequin.

But whatever be our appearance, it is with no mock
modesty we presume to make our bow before an audience
so well able to judge of good breeding upon the private
or public stage of life.

And although our presumption upon your good nature
and time will doubtlessly get many a severe check, we do
hope and will be gratified with the approbation of the few,
which is perhaps more than wc merit.

As to high class art we make no claim whatever, but
would fain take shelter (although wc dare not) under the
mighty words of Schiller, when he says: "Whoever writes
that which is common to all mankind is the true poet
artist."

We must also apologize for ofTering the unfinished Poem,
" The Howes o' Buchan," for besides the above fault we
fear it will displease for want of plot ; but we promise that
in our next the actions deepen.

Wc therefore bog your attention and indulgence for the
moment to our motley garb, which wc may assure you
i-; the best we can afford.

CONTENT" S.

-mi

COMl'I.IMENTARY PIECES.

On seeing a Portrait of young Prince Ivrlward of York stand-
ing by his Great- (irandniother's Knee i

On the I rift of a Book 9

On an American I<ady getting Married to an Knglish Noble-
man 10

To the same 10

To the Maidens Four 11

To the same 12

On seeing Cromwell's Portrait 12

Another to same 13

IwUcrece • 14

A Five Year Old Hebe 15

To Nora 19

A Friend 21

CO.Ml'UMKNTARY PIECES ON PORTRAITS IN MUXSEY'S.

To Miss Nellie, on seeing her Portrait in Munsey's 14

On Millais' Painting, " For the Squire " 15

To Virginia 19

POEMS.

Fancy i

Canada 2

Montreal 2

Jamieson's Call 3

Montreal 4

To Mr. L '. 4

Burns' Centenary 5

A Day Dream 7

The Coveted Spoils of a Hidden Hand 8

Fortune r6

Queen Victoria's Birthday if>

On Sir Walter Scott's Birthday 17

James Brown's Dream 33

My Auld Love 36

Ruth, or the Lass of the Midnight Watch 38

A Dream 47

I^arno and his I'irst Love 48

The Youug Immigrant and his Sister 51

Gertrude and the ( tipsy 55

KUI.OC.IKS.

Sir John A. Macdonald iS

Princess Beatrice lamenting Prince Henry's Death 21

ICugene Field's 1 'eath 25

SATIRES.

Knvy 19

A Reprimand 20

Satire 22

Father Tim 23

Envy 24

Nangoes 25

The Reclaimed 26

Phtcbus and Aurora escaping the Furies 27

A Satire 32

A Satire 3a

SONNETS.

Sonnet 20

Sonnet ; 26

Sonnet 28

'I'he Norus 29

A Sonnet 29

vSonnet 30

ASonnet..' 30

Sonnet 31

EPICS.

Sir John the Third 60

The Brides of Lougueuil 71

The Howes o' Buchan and Far Awa 84

ON SEEING A PORTRAIT OF YOUNG PRINCE EDWARD
or YORK STANLMNG BY HIS GREAT-GRAND-
MOTIIKkS KNEE.
Cling to tiiy Kraiultna's knee, laddie,

Her love will guide thee through
Temiitation's roiU. tlif ma/e of Stale,
And Husli thy rose* Hkc dew,

That's hlooming now so sweetly,

Hall opt'd tlKiu king to be;
For mother (J;M'eii 'ocneath thee.

Hangs the constitution's key.

Lord Keeper, see it's furbished

From time's corroding case;
Now mason tap thy keystone,

The arch is built to squeeze.

Bend to her will. Prince Edward,

And win thy heritage ;
The Common's wealth of sympathy, *

An Empire loyal badge.

FANCY.

Heaven entrance thee from fretted fancy,

lUvcllcd with the >!iruj{ of time ;
While viewing Munsey, fate may chance thee,

Catch a glimpse of Southern clime.

Catch a fairy, scent rosemary.

All on leaves a printed ream;
Won't thou tarry and be merry.

Troth it is no midday dream.

Sweet modest lass, sits early mass,

A penitent she'll seem;
Be thou an ass if Cupid pass,

A ridding fancy's whim.

The House of Yotk w:is one if the contenJipg factions in the Wars of the Roses.

" CANADA."
(At the time of the Venezuelan Dispute).

'Tis the liaunt of the beaver,

'Tis the cradle of snow,
Where beauty and honor

Side by side grow.

With her groves of sweet maple.

With her far rolling prairie.
Where law reigns supreme,

Without witches or fairie.

She's the daughter so proud,
She's the cousin full blooded,

To the crown of auld England,
To the union now flooded.

'Tis Canada, youthful and true ;

'Tis Canada, rosy and fair ;
Who wouldn't love the dear lassie ?

Touch lier, ye rogues, if ye dare.

MONTREAL.

Did Athens in her famous story,
Look a picture like dear Montreal ?

At the foot of Mount Royal so hoary,
'Tis a sight that doth thee enthral.

j' With the deep blue St. Lawrence so mighty.

Swooping plains like a broad silver ribbon ;
While her motion at Lachine is so flighty.
To disturb the sweet sleep of McGibbon.

^N.B.— We must apologize to the Superintendent of the Mountain Park for takinjj his name
in vain, hence we doubt very much if we need apologize for the Lachine Rapids disturbing
him.

JAMIESONS CALL.

|n ;

ting his name
ks disturbing

The l)eacon lights were shining,
The sore oppress'd were pining,

For our friendly arm,
When we tried our priming.
Our steps to music timing,

We march'd for Kruger's farm.

They were our kith, our brothers,
They were children of same mothers,

That now beleagur'd lay ;
Wiiom Joubert's troopers bothers,
And rights all equal smothers.
Till the judgment day.

What smoke 'tis yonder rising

I'roni the rolling veldts ?
'Twere not at all surprising.
Were somq, Utlanders devising

A junction with the Celts.

Come march, my gallant comrades,

We'll march at double quick.
As oft we've done in Zulu raids :
Then sound we slept in highland plaids,
Upon unmould'd brick.

Oh Mars, thou splenic god of war,
To wildly drive swift Mercury's car,
And read such omens to the Boer,
That he should ambush lie secure,
Whilst thin our lines were seen afar,
Like laboring ship with Jack-a-tar,
Sail'd for a Cyclop's mouth to moor.
Where's Utlander's beleagured corps ?
We've come to settle up their score,

While troth they've gained the Boer.

Base Utlanders, to buy your grace ;
Unsportsmanlike ye've sold the race ;
Ye've cowardly knelt to household gods,
Ye've broke the arm of mighty Rhodes ;
While left are we like game to die,
Under rifled Burghers deadly eye.

Who will share this blunder
Without the Queen's commission ?

All our smoke and thunder
Ends in a rebel mission.

i ill

MONTRE.AL.

vFull of churches stcepled high,
Fortunes rolling to the sky ;
Water laved, mountain guarded.
Dare the Yankee e'er bombard it ?

TO 'SIR. L .

Watch the straw of fortune blowing,
Catch the tide of llush affairs.

Spare the fruit while it is growing.
Winnow wheat from out the tares.

Win sweet virtue, modest maiden.
Ere the harvest home of youth

Catch the balm of prudence laden
With life's elixir forsooth.

Wield the sword of keen decision,
Hang that sloth procrastinate,

Countermine fort superstition.
That marauding midnight bat.

Sow the seeds of sweet contentment,
In thy future fields of grace ;

Be thy emblems full of sentiment
For the weakest of our race.

BURNS' CENTENARY.

'Twas grim misfortune baffled, spoiled,
The course laid out for nature's child ;
His sails she tore in tatters wild.

And strained the K<illant barque.
Now like a serpent cunning coiled,
Her fangs around the victim moiled.
His generous hand she bruised and foiled,

That oft he missed the mark.

'Twere cruel such twists the monster gave.
That drained the essence of this brave.
Pure elixir for coward or slave.

To stay his faltering heait.
In each mad wound our jioct king
Ecdewed and dipped his fancy's wing,
Then higher flew in heaven to sing

Of Bruce's gallant part.

O heart of love. O soul of fire.
Thou bent to daisy in the mire,
And cheer'd the devil's den so dire

With thy kind address.
With cupid's bow ye hit the mark.
The heavenly muses lent the spark
To fire the ploughman at the wark,

And earn the Symbol's* dress.

Oh Burns, were ye young Hebe's son,
And highland whiskey with thee run
A race for fame, 'twere far outdone

In floods of love and song.
The Grecian Isles had sons caressed.
Their songs through ages roughly pressed,
Till portraiture and names effaced,

Thus Lydia suffers wrong.

• The rough burr-thistle, spre.irting wide,
Among the be.irder hear ;
I turned the weedercl ps riside,

And spared the symbol de.ir. — I'urns.

Heard we no quip or joust of Burns,
We'd doubted much his stanzas turns
Were on foundations soHd cairns,

To plumb and plummet true.
The mighty sail had left a doubt,
Some phantom ship was on the scout,
Or mirage round the hills about,

To aid fond fancy view.

But man and action all are here,
Be right or wrong to us so dear,
Nor deem we king nur poet's peer,

Though full we rend his due.
No draught nor plan could mortal show
To guide his footsteps here below.
Or measure Etna's fiery glow.

Consuming soul and sinew.

A century gone to year and day.
There did return to mother clay
The worn frame, once color gay,

That clothed a mighty soul.
'Twas on the Soiway's ebbing firth,
With meagre pittance there to girth
The smuggler's barrel in gruesome mirth,

He earned his bitter dole.

Some reckless folks on Calvary slew
The Son of Him that either blew
Full in our souls to heaven bedew

Our dry and barren birth.
But He repaid that mocking crowd
With full forgiveness from yon cloud.
Whilst Burns hath reared fraternal mou'd,

A franchise for the earth.

Leave for a day VValhalla's fold,
Bring with tiiee Ossian bard of old.
To hear the pawkcy wenncr's niaul'd.

That foul'd thy poetic strains.
Far Oceania Cape and Horn,
From golden gate to where thou wert born,
Mot man nor maid thy fate will scorn,

But cheer thy mighty manes.

A DAY DREAM.

Dreams of hope and of honey.
Dreams of love and of money.
Aye alluring and so sunny

To the young aspirant.
^ et they're- soul's (k-liisive I)antcr,
Simple folks guile enchanter,
Companions ever dear to saunter.

When spirits young and ardent.

Hopes false and friendship too,
Actions wild we ever rue,
Whilst evil spirits venom brew

To kill the budding rose.
Brilliant pearls of our youth.
Broken hearts and vows forsooth,
Are burdens of auld age uncouth,

To aid remorse's throes.

But let us view the scene of youth,
And rove again the fields v. ith Louth :
Oh let us pree the maiden's mouth.

That hanter'd us so free.
Oh let us hear the morning lark.
In meadow, dale and hillside park.
That cheers the reaper to his wark,

To mow the ripen'd lea

THE COVETED SPOILS OF A IIIDUEX HAND.

What cause ha<lst thou tu doul>t my fame ?
What cause hadst thou to scorch my name ?
While I for love and glory came

So far to see thee ?
Oh heav'nly powers for>j;ive her now,
Oh love of mine to thee I'll vow.
'Twas senseless pride that fed the lowe,

And passion hot consumed thee.

Nor days nor years I cannot number,
Where wast thy love ? mine did not slumber,
Whilst on the ruin'd path waves didst thunder,

We view'd the rueful past.
Of what was seeming good or bad,
In our past lives, gay and sad.
Of what fight be, of what we had.

Of fortune now o'er cast.

Winds iilch'd a name out highland story,
Whom Burns immortal shed with glory.
Nor time nor use had left it hoary.

It waked me doubtful mad.
'Twas then a wild wave o'er me rushed,
Like burning lava cruel it crushed.
Till chimes St. Peter's belfry hushed

The tumult wild and sad.

Now all the beauty of thy race.
And all the sweetness of thy grace.
Might equal power her to replace,

And fill'd the empty throne.
But thoughtless thou hadst left a seed
Of injured pride, the treacherous weed,
Which like to rust corroding feed.

Or drain the flower a drone.

If all Afric's diamond wealth

Was mine by gift or strenuous stealth,

To Barney I would leave the pelf,

For the hours with thee I've spent.
For the yearning of my soul
In eighty what ? that year thou stole
Thy love from mo. when at the goal

Of blif.s I felt content.

When the days were dark and drear,
And thy fair face exi)ectant near,
'Twas then the whitecaps woke a fear

Of cautious cruel delay.
But like the magnet true, the nearer
Impulses grew though view no clearer.
While sweet thy l)rcath made ozone purer.

As we sailed the angry bay.

ON THE GIFT OF A BOOK.

This book I send thee, highland lad,
For troth I think th'^e not so bad

As rumor wild doth say.
Then in thy den thou might be sad.
While rhyming o'er some grey goose fad

In epic, song or play.

Ah lassie, thanks a thousand times.
It will enclose my maudling rhymes

In silent serious grey.
And I. by chance, a feature cast.
Though with thy face it can't be class'd,

So sweet, so arch'd and gay.

Play on. play u)), thy touch is soft.
It soothes me as thy fingers oft

Dance on the ivory key.
'Tis " harmony twisting mazes through,"
A licpiid running clear as dew.

And sweet as honey bee.

ON AN AMERICAN LADY GETTING MARRIED TO
AN ENGLISH NOBLEMAN.

And thou, fairest child on eartli,
With guardian angel now must part,
Who, ever since thy queenly birth,
Hath been to thee a double heart;
Under her sails of pleasing art
Thou'lt drift, the fairest e'er eye beheld :
While bounteous nature uncompelled
Hath grant'd thee the palm,
Like to yon ship that is full sailed,
Breeze wafting every fragrant balm.

Manhattan's princess, cfinst thou enhance i

A sire's great and noble name ?

Who dare say it was thine only chance ?

Thou ever hadst the choice of game.

Whence an arrow it was sped.

Unsheathed from ancestral fame,

What baronial pastures ever fed

A deer so cunning, lithe and wild.

To escape thy lasso once uncoiled ?

Nor dare I say thou wilt much gain,

Or why the others thou didst disdain.

TO THE SAME.

Oh emblems fair of the golden corn.
Sisters dear of the West countric.

If your cousin german sounded the horn,
Wouldst ye stay by the inland sea ?

Oh brothers far o'er the Chapperal,

Ye con not o'er the past;
Of your fathers ye can little tell.

But watch the mints new cast.

Oh votaries vain of tiie day begun,
Aurora's flirting lovers free,

Who worship but the rising sun,
And let his glories nightly flee.

Fair country mine, I love thee still,

And mother guardian angel dear,
To leave thee all without a thrill
Would sadly prove I had no peer.

In State Reserve from sea to sea.
In cold, in heat, from north to south,

A pest that should her country flee.
With locust curst, snow and drouth.

TO THE MAIDENS FOUR.

Jessie, neat and cantie.

A wee religious soul;
Of her piety rather vauntie,

Yet goody on the whole.

Assy, fat and funny,

Rolling like a porpoise.
Laughing, dreamy, sunny.

Dearest child of Morpheus.

Bessie, graceful, naughty.

Self-constituted queen.
Saucy, pert and haughty,

In every humor seen.

Ophelia, youngest horn

Of the fair quartette.
Rather love forlorn.

Leaning on the arm of fate.

Were such portraits true to life,

This might a libel be;
But well ye know I don't mean strife,

Down by the oyster sea.

'Tis o'er and o'er ayain I've said,

Such things as pert to thee.
That had not I with balsam staid,

The scar miKdit rent us free.

TO THE SAME.

Now, yt- will stay by our fireside —

To-night do stay with me;
*Tis a cu)) of luscious wine, my jiride,

Ye'll drink to the lassies three.

And ye will sit in the rocking chair,
And frisk with the maiden four:

Then we will feast on the daintest fare.
And laugh o'er the days of yore.

Sweet fairies of the Royal isle.

Oh maidens bright and fair.
When day hath claimed her share of toil,

I'll seek the arm'd chair.

Where Hocken's voice so merry rang,
And charmed thee hour by hour.

Where I the mother's tongue didst twang,
To the mirth of the maiden four.

ON SEEING CROMWELL'S PORTRAIT.

O'er this brow of famished glory
Long hung a black and weird story.
Hangs yet much doubt of honors high.
That few can wear without a sigh.

'Twas the summit crowned with trust,
Where the manners dare not rust ;
'Twas hke to Blondin as lie crossed
Niagara foaming water tossed ;
'Twas then sucli c<iuilihrium true
Must swing in fate's etiiercal blue ;
There's naiiglit on earth supports thy claim,
But virtue scorclieil in passion's tlamc.
The tissue slight from gross barbarity.
If love well steeiJcd in sweetest charity
Didst not pervade thy measured works.
Or eagles were iiitlated storks ;
But forth hath Cariyle heraldeil fame.
Immortal be thine h.onorcd name. •

ANOTHER TO SAME.

That brow a polish'd palace pure,
In where the mighty gods mature
Their plans to sway the earthly atonis ;
Bless'd be he who tints accustoms
The heavenly brood there to convene.
To con o'er what is said and seen
Within his upjicr room or cranium,
While mawkins try to understand him.

But thou must keep them full in awe.
And check their sneering loud ha ! ha !
Whilst thou must humor spleen and fret,
And slack the rein whilst they run sweat.
Guid superstition foul and dark.
That sway the passions from the mark
Of higher skill and self-reliance.
As shield its made in mad defiance ;
Yet man ne'er fought who knew so well
Those shields to lock as Cromwell.

LUCRECE.

Where liae ye been, my bonnie lassie ?

Where hae ye been, my fair maid ?
Where hae ye been, my bonnie lassie ?

We've a' grown auld and staid.

Where grew those blushing roses

That Hush the lilies fair ?
*Twas where my head reposes,

On hyacinth beds and flowerets rare.

What drone hath nectar drained, lass ?

What bee hath sweetened there ?
Among the flowers no man will pass,

If he their language dare.

The sweets are yet enclosed, lad,

The rose ne'er opt its eye,
'Tis afTection's bee a' fettered sad,

That through my bosom fly.

TO MISS NELLIE,— ON SEEING HER PORTRAIT

IN MUNSEY'S.

Is the South a nursery rare ?
Is the South a forest fair

Of lovely women ?
Where their eyes of varied shade,
From their souls of fire is fed.

To slay the demon.

Ye' re the balm of Southern zephyr,
Kneaded sweet to Venus wafer,

Lovely Nellie.
She's the choice of all the graces,
Whom this mortal now addresses,

Sweetest Nellie.

ON MILLAIS, PAINTING. " FOR THE SQUIRE."

Wild hangs the ringlets round a face,

So open, sweet and candid,
O painter tenty ye can trace

The eye her soul demanded.

Oh charming child of Millais' hrain.
But I would fain to own thee

In Hesh and blood, or in the grain.
If he would sell or pawn thee.

A FIVE YEAR OLD HEBE.

With ringlets round a laughing face,
My youngest lass is fancy free,

A whirling, dancing round the place,
A fairy's wean in heyday glee.

Aurora hung in beaded dew,

Rise draped in feeble glory.
When I compare this tiny shrew,

For troth she is no Tory.

Her prattling lips' carnation bloom
Knows naught of sin or sorrow;

Her sparkling e'e might seal the doom
Of monarch son to-morrow.

Oh jaunty lass with smile so cheery,
Sweet sunbeams of thy soul so pure.

No brunt of passion makes thee weary.
Nor love's surfeit surpass endure.

Thy years so few been happy spent.
With Hebe charming grace and ease.

May day ne'er dawn when ye'll repent
A lover's humor hard to please.

FORTUNE.
If fortune fill our sails of life

With ijalniy lircc/c of liKlitost zephyr,
Such blessings please a canty vife,

Sweet children neat and dapper.

' If health, that ever greatest boon,

Come to our lottery ticket,
Kind nature prize will follow soon,

Should wc have sense to take it.
Her open hand propitious guides

The man that stirs fu' early
To catch the turning of the tides,

For whistling winds blow rarely.

Through whitecap seas and raging breeze

Our barque will gallant skim,
Let seaniews scream as storms we deem, '

We'll jib and mainsail trim.'

QUEEN VICTORIA'S BIRTHDAY.

'Tis seven and seventy years with two days,
'Tis seventy-seven years of merry May days,
To minds of men fit for peace or frays.

Since heaven sent thee.
Within thy realm all mortals fond admire,
Beyond thy realm all kind folks desire
To be number'd citizens of thy Empire,

And fealty pay thee.

If the rights of princes are not divine,

Nor should it be though they're term'd sublime,

Yet the King of Kings did so well define

To name thee Viceroy.
And when his herald sounds thy recall
(Which heaven defer for many a spring and fall).
Praise robed thou'll return, a worthy Seneschal,

As round thee heaven's hosts deploy.

ON SIR WALTER SCOTT'S BIRTHDAY.
Come, let affection's filly loose
This night, that we may high carouse

In well smok'd mountain dew,
That dripp'd frae aft the heather bell,
Where Scott didst wander dreich and fell,
To con a song for you.

Dear Uncle Watty, genial soul,

Thou household god from pole to pole.

Well may we kneel to thee;
To-night we'll saunter round the abbey,
Hand in hand, rich and shabby,

Sweet memory's sights to see.

Now come this night, we'll honor pay
To him who sang the minstrel lay

For Scotia's sake.
A poet, priest, and mental king,
Who would begrudge dear fancy's wing

A pleasant trip to make ?

A happy flight o'er land and sea,
To be, O Scott, in soul with thee,

'Neath Authur seat grim grey;
To rove o'er Teviot's hills and dales.
Where oft he faced the morning gales,

A sportsman blythe and gay.

Or through the Trossachs rugged wild.
Where Helen dear, his fancy child,

Was wont to wander free;
Where king and chief waged deadly strife.
But ended sworn friends for life.

To keep the highland key.

May the voice of every Scotsman
Sound his merits far to-night;

May they be his faithful henchmen,
Through flood, through chase and fight.

SIR JOHN A. MACDONALD.

"A BRITISH SUBJECT I WAS BORN, A BRITISH
SUBJECT I WILL DIE."

Away with your bronzr; and statues of brass,
Away with your marbles polish'd Hke glass,
Away with material that moulder and pass, —
If here to-day, they're gone like the grass.

His prophetic spirit through ruins will whisper,

To-morrow.
To-morrow.

Can the swoop of the age obliterate his memory ?
Can the current of time wear confederate array ?
Will new generations, thankless and wry.
Forget him, so leal, so true, in a day ?

Not to-morrow.
His prophetic spirit through the ruins will whisper.

Not to-morrow.

Can the work of the Chieftain shrink and decay ?
Won't his great dee<'.s outlive the potter's frail clay ?
Will his spirit, so instill'd in us, ascend in a day,
And nothing be left of the last fatal fray ?

Not to-morrow.
His prophetic spirit through the ruins will whisper.

Not to-morrow.

Ye far rugged shores lav'd by ocean's blue wave,
Ye folks by the sea that forgot and forgave.
The price of your fleece which ye never could save.
While ye honor him now, ye generous and brave.

Come to-morrow.
His spirit will whisper from paradise.

Come to-morrow.

!li;i!i

19
TO VIRGINIA.
'Tis a jocund morning in the sunny South
T,s aurora dripped in pearly dew; '

Fair V ' '■°''''"^ encrimsoned mouth,
^air Virginia, it is ! it is you !

And dare I tint this exquisite flower.

While practised nature hath left no cue ?
Twas m Westover, bonnie orange bower

He spent h.s skill on one;-it was you

Fair chatelaine of Diana's temple.

Upon thy bosom buds a violet blue;
Be It of modesty, a sweet example.

Who d not write-aye. and think of you.

TO NORA.

Oh Nora, fairest child of Erin
Aye bewitching, aye endearing
So winning in- thy canty ways,'
Bnglu as Phoebus' golden ravs :
Whilst Aurora, coy and shy'
Daren't match thy bonnie eye
Tripping like an angel fair
Through the zephyr balmy' air.

ENVY.

She said it was true,

And she gloated, the' shrew.

With her mouth far askew,'

So gleefully.
Yet I doubt her veracity,
For bar'd face audacity
She has a capacity,

So shamefully.

A REPRIMAND.

Thou shouldst have read between the lines

Why friendly praise demand small fines

Upon a stock of Scotch civility,

.While light I drew on rare ability,

And thoughtless touch'd a chord we've heard,

Send harmony through the passion stirr'd.

But if the mark I view'd too large,
Spent ammunition at my charge.
While powder stain'd from random shot,
Refuse the prize so ill begot.

Why didst thou give the public rope
To hang a man of unknown scope ?
Why didst thou use the painter's brush
To smear a friend with hackneyed mush ?
Why dare thou hire the assassin's knife

To slay the babe unborn ?
Whilst thou unconscious gave it life

Now from her womb it's torn.

SONNET.

Come peace eternal to unsettled passions,
Awake thou kinder touch of sweet emotions,
Nor measur'd be with no dial time.
Unvarying suited to various clime.
Strong ferment'd in true virtue's essence,
As thou s\ eet maid of unfinish'd lessons,
As thou fair daughter with fate uncoiled.
May not I pray, I do for thee my child;
And drink nectar of thy soul redeeming life.
While oil of wisdom calm the waves of strife.
For knew I aught of heaven on earth,
Ere this comet flash'd her disc of glory
Athwart my path drouth-dried of mirth,
Till heart and head were untimely hoary.

PRINCESS BEATRICE LAMENTING PRINCE HENRY'S

DEATH.

Oh fame, is this thy reward ?

Oh honor, is this thy crown ?
Oh Coomassie, charnal marred,

Thou hath brought him stern renown.

Weep, my darlings, weep.

My prince, thy beloved father,
Sleeps his eternal sleep.

Whilst heaven the harvest gather.

Oh grieve, mother, grieve,

A nation's sympathy, forsooth,
Must remind thee of a grave

That left me fatherless in youth.

Sweet children, in whose veins

Flows Battenberg's noble blood,
Canst mine eyes view his remains.

And my heart not take flood.

Oh Henry, prince of men.

My love, first and last.
Could I with this feeble pen

Thy goodness upon others cast.

A FRIEND.

Caught by the eagle eye of chance,
Whose gifts will ever thus enhance
The hands of persevering man,
Who fills so well the allotted span.

In figure fine, a Hercules made,
His mind the words ne'er coin'd or said
That failed to ring with sterling bounce,
While on his object straight he'd pounce.

For him the He was equal death,
Nor creed that bends for lattermath,
Of purpose good outweighing fate,
When thou wouldst own'd thy lawful debt.

And begged him help to clear the sheet,
Or when he knew thou meant to meet.
Thy obligations deep and fair,
He'd give the time as well as care.

With mind unmov'd and deep's the grave,
With eye that daunted coward and knave,
A heart so true unerring spar,
Was bright as yonder sparkling star,
To her who help'd in hours of need,
At last she gather'd all all his meed.

SATIRE.

A moon didst thou e'er behold

In heaven's canopy monarch sit.
And from her car of burnish'd gold

Didst e'er light so brilliant fht
As last night, when zenith high.

Ere eclipse his dusky mantle threw,
To shade her face from ripening rye,

Awing devotees* to offerings new,
So art thy fate in terrestrial glory

Lost forever in dire eclipse.
While fading from the page of history,

Shattered by the clubs of Cyclops,
Thou on the rocks of Scylla and Charybdis

Wilt be forever sunk in fathomless abyss.

* When Columbus foretold to the natives an eclipse of the moon, which happened a few
nights afterwards, they would have given him all they possessed.

1 happened a few

FATHER TI.M.
I dreamt of the sunbeams glistening

On a revered head of silver hair;
While I saw in his hand so threatening,

A shillaly from Donnybrook fair.

I listened a wee to his stuttcrings.

They were wild, incoherent, unfair,
But aught I could catch of his mutterings

Was, if I had him, he past repair.

In the shade of a hawthorne I bent,
To watch his companions so grim;

While I heard one declare he'd been sent
From Derry to convert Father Tim.

By the sou! of St. Patrick and Parnell,
Be the difference ever so much,

I'd rather see Balfour a cardinal.
And lucky Blast* burnt for a witch,

Than sec the guid creature cajoled
With peat reek instead of poteen ; '

By kirk and covenant controlled,
And openly pray for the Queen.

And this is the earthquake that's shaken
Our bogs, like a hurricane the seas.

While ye crows left the sageweed forsaken
For a Protestant field of green peas.

Away with ye, wild harum scarum,
Ye' re green as ye're own native sod,

No Duggan nor Fenian will dare him.
From Galway to Drogheda road.

See No. 457 of the LoikIc. Spectator, A„ku st ,4,1,, ,7,2.

ENVY.*
'Twas the midnight hour of fancy,

When all was foul and grim;
Among rancid fumes of Southern sea,

Where slimy monsters swim.

Every footstep he'd been stumbling,
Caught by bramble strew'd around;

'Twas the dunces bent on humbling,
That threw those shrubs aground.

All the honey in the flowerets
Had been drain'd by poison'd wasps;

All the prayers from Moslem minarets
Couldn't purge those death tongue asps.

Shy fortune, wild and meagre,

With some merits genius laden.
Awoke mean envy eager,

That troth forsaken maiden.

That beldam blear-eyed botcher,
With her womb breed mental thefts.

That loitering toadstool poacher,
The bane of God-sent gifts.

With her thoughts turned frozen vipers,

On the banks of fetid Lethe,
To wait the croak of devil's pipers.

Or the fumes of vulcan stithy.

♦ We may here say there are no person-)! allusiors me.Tnt in the poem. Alas I the rice is
*«ys pievalect to make it necessary for us to draw upon the traits of any indiridual character.

EUGENE FIELD'S DEATH.
Should I, a foreigner, have aught to say,
And I, a stranger, dare for thee pray
Yet couldst I gain'd thee another day,

I had deem'd it such glory.
In night's grim shades we've lost thee I
No, 'tis in immensity bright blue sea,
Where thy soul so pure must be
In eternal glory.

Oh hadst we had a partinr/ word,
Hadst thou but bequeath'd thy sword,
While undivided sinks the hoard

Of thy golden words.
Oh soul of thine, so pure and true.
Whilst earth is favour'd with so few,
That fall like drops of diamond dew

OfT the wings of golden birds

Clear, radiant, flashing far and near,
Drawing kindred nations close and deai,
Couldst a Scotchman grudge a tear

For the bier of Eugene Field.
Can I share thy dear one's sorrow,
With such feelings I might borrow,
Fine sympathetic soul and marrow,

Emblems on thy shield.

NANGOES.

Look out for the Nangoes,
Black from head to toes.
Clad in Burlap clothes,

Bloodthirsty thugs.
Oh but their fatal dose,
Deep in thy heart it goes.
Dagger-poisoned throes.

Deadlier than slugs.

THE RECLAIMED.

Art thou the man's to marry me ?
Why pay this day the Pope his fee ?
Who'll grant thy soul salvation free,

And save thy name and pedigree ?
Then wake at cockcrow to thy matin,
And read thy prayers in vulgar Latin,
Although thou know not what ye're pratin'.

Be pleased to full agree.

Within our circle thou'lt be blessed,
By Derry pups thou'lt ne'er be missed.
And when the Pope's toe ye've kissed,

Thy soul is shackle free.
Thou'lt ne'er be troubled more with it,
And for thy bread depend on wit,
Thy conscience stow in some auld kit,

Of priest or bishop's See.

SONNET.

Powers unknown that doth us draw,
'Tis Goethe terms them thus by law
The Elective Affinities, sure to meet,
When round the bush we chance to beat.
Or play at hide and seek for fun.
Perhaps our fate is seal'd ere done.
Great love of Him all universal,
No mortal dare try his rehearsal,
And spread the sacred fire in jest.
One be thy choice bad or best.
Who sends her heart, small or large,
In troth it is a sacred charge
When it's confided to thy care; ,

When it is sent for your repair.
She'll seldom ask it back again,
Nor daren't be sent by word or pen.

PHOEBUS AND AURORA ESCAPING THE FURIES.

Didst ye think I saw you not,
Arm and arm, ye happy pair ?
Troth it was a dainty mote
In mine eye when near despair.
Tripping fleet Diana's sister,
Phoebus' kingly arm assists her,
Youthful Hebe bent and kiss'd her —
Whom on earth would match the pair ?

Dare our courage fail us now.
On this marsh where Hercules' sow
Strew'd its howes and hillock deep,
Strew'd them with the bones of sheep.
Horse and hero, mule and cat.
Feasts for owl and midnight bat.
Where the Hydra met its death.
Where the monster blew its breath
Last to dew the lion's hide,*
In raging foam of hellish pride.

It may be roil and rodomontade.

Steering space from fact to fiction;
May heaven prevent it being said,

The power will listen to such diction.

Whilst oft I think of maple groves,

Where the turrets kiss the sky.
To face stamped Boreas droves,

When their white dust skir on high.

But if occasion beg a view,

Why shouldn't I attend her ?
And on my knees for mercy sue.

Though only slight offender.

# Hercules is often represented wearing a lion's skin for a hood.

For the misery she hath caused you,
For the scorching of the dew;
From the flowerets in your path,
With her cruel steaUhy wrath.
Oh that beldam, Hecate's sister,
Tongue dipt black in death's blister,
Ready for her victim's breast,
To destroy all earthly rest.

SONNET.
Freshest sprig of odorous thyme,

Sweet twig of the royal branch.
Dare I paint thy face in rhyme.

And hit thy features off by chance ?
Methinks such is thy bonnie face.

Were it my right divine
To choose a sister for her grace,

The lot in troth were thine.
No royal haughter doth displease.

In mien of grace so chaste.
Thy soul, like sunbeams on the seas.

Dance on thy face of roses prest.
And charm us far beyond compare,

To earthly being or angel fair.

Oh fairest child of the mighty realm,

Oh sweetest scion of our beloved Queen,
Didst such nymphs roam through oak and elm,

With Cupid's bow I'd be often seen.
In the glades of our island home,

In the forest of our far countree,
I, like great Ulysses, didst roam.

Where wild game feed and wild birds flee.
And many a Hebci lithe, comely, sweet.

Didst skip the lawn, sister, fair to see,
But aye, the fates spoil'd the happy meet,

Though many a gazelle caught my wandering e'e,
And didst renew the image of our royal maid.

Whose heart is gone for honor duly paid.

THE NORNS.

We have felt the hand of fate,
With triumph all but nil to date,
Tho' ne'er demurring at her cruelty.
Nor at her act of manner'd dually,
Whilst o'er our head she held a crown,
And scarce the dew left thistle-down,
Ere we a roving in the gorse,
Fast on a barren broken course.
Saw the alluring dreaded norns.
Cruder than the plaited thorns,
Beck'ning us to fairy bowers,
Dark abode of mystic powers.
In our grim forlorn hours,
Then leaving us to blindly grope.
With the thoughts of cosmic death,
Dew'd with Circean lotus breath.
And not a glimmering of hope.

A SONNET.

Youth's untrimmed folly, freak of my forgiving,

'Tis an orange sweet on an ingrafted stem.
Nor does its blossom waft a fragrant whiffing

Of the tree that bears mine honored name.
Ye're beauty's frieze cut from no hodman's model,

Then why should I wishing blunder trite,
To thee having our sexes dull noddle;

Then thank nature for being in the right.
Sweet rose freshen'd in Aurora's bath,

Heaven's queen in Borealis fleeting- race,
Fawn meanderinpr iinstartlcd i^p the stralth,

Yet he be huntsman keen that match the chase.
Oh Parnassus, sacred =ci n vv adnpted daughter,
Enticing muse too oft in mighty Juno's haughter.

30
SONNET.

Around turned thou, quick to face
Some youth to awake jealousy ;

But I'd sworn thy trick to trace,
And prove thee true in constancy.

Didst a tear e'er fall to relieve

Thy passion pent 'gainst thy lover ?
Didst thou ever hopelessly believe,

He'd take lliKht like autumn plover ?
My love so true and diffident,

Made me deem thee of celestial birth,
While I'd acted so different

Wert thou a maid of moulded earth,
Whilst thy mien so pleased my mortal eye,
Yet should you ask me I know not why.

A SONNET.

Will I describe that face of yours,

When disappointment gnaw'd thy mind.

While my heart it bled for hours
From thy last glance, sad and kind ?

I cannot say thou look'd sour,

Thy lip within thy teeth thou took.
Thine eye flash'd anger and power.

Thee thine equilibrium ne'er forsook.
'Twas the high bred dame's look.

Melancholy without disdain.
Of slight reproach it partook;

Yet thy heart didst true remain,
To consume my love accumulated,
Yet presume thy love antiquated.

31
SONNET.

When our thoughts in wildest freak

Join in sport ol hide and seek

To catch a sylpli of sylvan beauty,

'Tis then we deem it full our duty

Her soul through eyes to read anew,

Be she in thought a babe or shrew

'Tis fancy's mode of heyday dreaming,

Of faith and hope so scanty seeming,

Aye brings our life a peck of woe,

On every glance, on every nod and bow.

But souls combustic catch the spark unspent.

That speed with passion's arrow true.

And will of mortal, ever unwilling bent.

Breaks the bow when the game's a shrew.

SONNET.

What in female face is painted
With God's image, sweetly tinted.
We may search by sacred law,
Like connoisseurs detect each flaw
That fails to heighten all the graces,
And bring a charm to maiden face
But draws with true magnetic force
Pure nectar from the fountain source;
A beverage soothing passions wild,
Such mute narcotics leave ns mild,
To wake halos within our souls.
Reflecting rays like crystal bowls.
And tint the ether rainbow true,
To calmly lay the sin in you.

: i

Ill;

A SATIRE.

Gooseling gifted, misfortune guided,
With nature's contraries he aye coincided.
Unnurtur'd faculties, swashtih'd spleen,
He wades the wastes of unmitigated scene.
A passion tempered by sulphuric fluid.
Tnat blazed by friction as doth rosened wood ;
A forbidding front, an unseasoned tongue.
Which to the winds all the evils flung.
He'd loosely gathered on impressive brain,
Ab invention ne'er his fulsome memory stain.
But treble cadence moved unholy grace,
With a voice sweet in measured bar.
While on the maidens of many race.
Left the scath of unfigured scar.

A SATIRE.

Didst thou for once lose thy head.

And rave about the word clever ?
Didst thou unravel the thread

Of my discourse to discover ?
Thou wert far below the summit

My simple soul view'd thee on;
That thy genius was no comet.

Nor a star cut of diamond stone.
Didst thou read thy spurious soul.

And squirm in thy confidence,
Knowing thyself a burnt coal.

Dry ashes now — no consequence.
But a foul sulphuric vapour,

Or some other atmospheric caper.

JAMES BROWN'S DREAM.

'Twas late in the summer of ninety-five,
When the leaves varied red and yellow;

Just at the time when the kine best thrive,

Before the yorling takes flight with the swallow.

'Twas the hour Aurora, in her drapery light.
Peeps o'er the hills in their thin clad mist,

Ere the pinions of Phoebus are spread in his flight,
Ere her rose bosom'd daughter awake to be kiss'd.

From the land of the East ye come, my queen.
From the land of Steppes and Tartar brave;

In the land of the Tycoon ye hae been,
And danced with Atlanta beam and wave.

I dreamt a dream of my younger days,
I dreamt of companions dead and gone;

I heard them sing the dear old lays.
When morning left me sad and Ivjne.

With echoes clear their voices ringing.

Fall on my ear with kindness rare;
Their nocturnal visits sadly bringing

Comparisons between grey and dark brown hair.

With faces fresh and rosebud red,
Their hearty laugh rippled light and clear,

Appearing to have slept twelve hours abed,
Lithe as reindeer, while I old and sear.

If e'er of difference was all now I loved.
Nor do suppose I should have done always;

But by this occasion it may be proved,
That hatred, like mud, at the bottom lays.

Translucent slow rolls life's river,
As pure the water with time appears;

Whilst to the surface this ancient diver
Brings all the pearls of past years.

Of all those friends long gone and lost.
There's one kept a kind enticing eye

Upon me, acting receiver and host,
At my bon mots raised an admirin ^ aye.

And what a face full of benign glory !

'Twas not young, though smooth and fresh;
Yet his hair had become quite hoary,

All else were free from the guiler mesh.

'Twas my sire, whose hand had led me
To view the scenes around the country side ;

For I of five was his child of fancy.
In whom such parents take a special pride.

My hand he took as in the days of yore.
Saying, my lad, what have ye found ?

Thy face and figure looks as if ye bore
The globe with Atlas on thy shoulders round.

What makes thee sad, thou foster child ?

With heart as big as Benora's fauld;
So true and pure, it can't be defiled

With earthly gear, or by trickster bauld.

Hymen's torch hath singed thy heart strings

To a cinder crisp and dire;
How oft did ye borrow Cupid's wings

To reach the warmth of Venus' fire ?

•
Didst not thy mother warn thee strong

Against the eye of witching maid ?

Didst not I leave thee my friends among.

Whose daughters were of constancy made ?

This passion curb beyond all other,
'Tis a waste of Prometheus' heavenly fire ;

I'erhaps Venus begs a spark to smother.
For lack of fuel on love's funeral pyre.

Choose a maiden with heart her own,
As she lights love's lamp but once;

And if the moth is wary away it's thrown,
That she may like a tiger pounce.

Choose a lass with tocher ample,

Sweet faces buy naught in mart or fair;

Prove her mother of commonsense a sample.
Then deem it sure ye'U be a happy pair.

We'd reached the summit of a sheep-trod hill.
With sweeping slopes to a valley green:

Yet all I remember is an old sawmill,

Humming and drumming sawdust in our e'en,

Till we gain'd the valley sward and stream,
Where walk'd a figure in fashions old,

Dress'd off the wincey lincey leam.
That hung adown in heavy fold.

Her feeble figure was still erect.
Her thin white hand no palsy shook;

Back from the brow of this relict

Flow'd hair dark brown in heavy shuck.

Though near the allotted span had run.
Her eye shone like the gloaming star ;

Her smile as warm as noonday sun,
When autumn storms have left their scar.

Here on the banks of winding stream.
Where naUire gay with flow' rets sweet ;

All in the weirdest morning dream.
Sire, dame and son as fairies meet.

rhe convent bell rang out the matin,
Aurora smiling kissed my pillow white;

The leaves shone like silk and satin.
While I was left in quandary plight.

rt
111

■ ■ i

3ii

MY AULD LOVE.
I dreamt so sweet of by-gone days,
Whilst through the sky ran milky ways,
When revel wild and dancing free,
Made me as bright as child could be,
And waked my soul towards mankind.
And warm'd my heart to womankind;
While Scotch strathspeys and reels were "te,
Pure virtue laid my bosom's strife,
And oh that I might now enjoy
An hour of such and be a boy.
But this is what I meant to tell :
Long ere the nuns swung matin bell,
And every one was free to say
Words just as sweet as new-mown hay.
There appeared a figure in the throng,
And she was fairest yet among
Those daughters of our mother Eve
Who from the tree didst slyly thieve.
But that I shouldn't mention here :
Though long ago, 'tis a slur I fear.

Her cheek was crimson, of the hue
That roses are when batn'd in dew ;
And she was lithe and neatly made.
And she was queenly, nothing staid.
How long is it since first I placed
My hand in yours and let it rest.
Till someone rudely threw it aside.
And said she'll never be his bride ?
Now, is it true thou loved me once.
That sleep was banished for the nonce,
And all this woman's wiles were vain.
Though hard she tried thy heart to gain ?
Now, is it true thou would have made
This foolish, yet this loving maid
Thy bride, and frankly owned
A lover's love with love enthroned ?

'Tis true, 'tis true, I swear it now.

And oft I wished the marriage vow

Had from the pulpit solemnly rung,

And echo's yes from each our tongue.

But love of mine in days of yore.

Nor will I say I love no more.

What makes those maidens slyly look,

And curdle far from this sweet nook.

And whisper to their chaperons,

Who shake their heads with dubious frowns.

Cast beaming eyes upon their charge,

And send them forth with youths at large ?

Methinks they think all loves in us,

And leave the room to make a fuss;

But naught I care, I'll own to you,

I was thinking on the morning dew.

That glistened on the daisies sweet.

Bechance the guiiing day we meet.

With Scotchman from auld Mormon blue.

Whose white horse* whiter shines with dew,

From that pure stream the Ythan swift,

Where skiff of pearl fisher drift.

While eights green braes her water lave.

And Haddo's towers look down the glaive ,

Where Ellon trim embedded green

Lies calm below the friendly e'en

Of Gordon's in their castle high.

The spot where oft ye've wish'd to die.

'Tis where thy fathers rest in peace,

'Tis where their soul gave up the lease

Of earthly tenure held in trust,

For coming names unmoulded dust.

To ybu I gave my heart as pure

As yonder stars whom heaven endure.

To sleep within her bosom deep.

I *

♦There is an enorm-ms fitjureof a hor«e pnved of white ^t me in the face of thehili, where it
can be seen at a great distance,

While oft their cares doth make her weep;
Such was my fate, and oh 'tis true,
My nights were sleepless oft for you,
And if my tears were gathered in
Some moat deep, where castle grim
Reflects her towers at high noon day.
They'd float my rival's barge so gay.

I d*-' her to my heart and said,
Sb .'.) he fault be on me laid,

Or aid ' ^nre the brunt of some
Misunc'w^ti/iuiiag, thoughtless, grum ?

Now ^iiV no more, my heart it's free,
I'll loo.c tL Go '^ ■*). knot round thee.
Although Phrygian yiou^. iman king
Hath sealed it with his signet ring.

The cock crew loud, the robin sung,
The distant tower its third bell rung.
The morning air blew crisp and clear,
When angel maids fast disappear.

RUTH, OR THE LASS OF THE MIDNIGHT WATCH.

'Twas in the silent breath of night,
When mortals fondly leave the fight,

To rest them sad and weary ;
When mystic visions float in sight,
And ghostly figures fill with fright

The mind so calm and dreary.
My thoughts went rambling wild and free
Through every nook e'er known to me.
A Russian fair grounds empty swept
Is like my mind when something crept
Athwart the barren steppes of time,
And if my faulty, pawky rhyme
Will paint a figure angel fair,
Ye'U then account for my despair.

The rose I've seen first ope its eye ;
I've view'd the babe a-sleeping lie ;
I've heard the lark in morning air,
The nightingale in evening fair,
And prima donna's charming notes ;
To heaven the organ rolls its votes :
All these awake creative fancy,
While such feelings pure enhance thee;
Such thy heart strings tingle sweet,
And whispers say thy joy's complete.

'Tis then a change comes o'er the mind.
That ye no vice could in it find ;
An incense has from heaven descended,
And round the soul sweet condescended;
The heckler hand hath striped the flax,
The lopping branch the woodman's ax<
And all are clean as winnow'd seeds.
When thoughts of such our fancy feeds.

I had but slept an hour or more.
When light the latch moved on the door —
So gently soft no ear could catch,
Though ye were on the midnight watch.
The hinges swung so light and fast.
That all the first act nigh was past.
When on my ear a rustling caught,
And filled my mind with fear so fraught.
That moments fled in maudling daze,
Till habit limpish figure raise.
With heart a beating eager, fond,
I clear'd my throat and voice I toned;
But tongue its functions had relapsed.
And I a mute with speech collapsed,
Sat watching every move she made.
For troth it was a comely maid.

I've seen before the altar stand '

A maid so maidenly command,

That I with her had nearly knelt,

Before I thought, or actually felt.

The force of feeling I must curb,

Or all the audience quite disturb.

A voice I knew so softly dear,
With accents sweet it filled my ear :
" I come afar o'er hill and moor."
Such words, pour'd out in Doric pure.
So thrilled my nervous feeling taut,
That still my speech was figure naught
To meet thee I have come so far,
And yet the door is not ajar;
Thy word 'tis false as untoned key.
While I have fret and thought of thee
Night and day this many a moon,
Whilst I with fathers sleep must soon.
Ah wae's my heart with broken plight,
'Twere better far I'd died the night
I spoke thy name to him who swore
He would protect me evermore,
Whilst I with pride " laugh him to scorn,'
And now I rue it night and morn.
Yet might his heart be lone and free,
And he those wrinkles may not see.
That marks a brow no marble smooth
Could show its native vein forsooth,
With less appearance of the fissi'e.
Than did I nature's cunning chisel,
Upon my withered cheek and brow.
When to his speech I said not now.

Oh Ruth I've rode with reindeer speed,
And spurr'd his sides fu sore,

And though my steed's of Barbary breed,
Time aye kept far before.

The night is dark ".'.id rough the way,

No sparkHng star I saw;
To wild winds whistUng weirdest lay,

The owls laid down the law.

This bodes misfortune to our tryst,
'Twere better far it got a hoist,
As members close in session say,
When bills obnoxious stow'd away.

Ah lass, thou art now ever sour.
Unlike when in yon cider bower

We met in love's young day.
Thou likest to half ope'd bonnie flower,
Didst welcome kiss like evening shower,

And danced so light and gay.

Then I was welcome, late and early,
No path was green to far Drumfairlie,
For grass dare grow where horse's feet
Didst o'er their mould so often beat.

'Twas ere a crooked path ye knew,
'Twere long ere Janet kisses threw,
She little knew forbye her prayers,
Yet all this time her neighbors' cares
She nursed unknown with guileless glee,
Whilst strict the nuns kept lock and key.

Enough, enough, Ruth, I have told
Thee ne'er to touch a subject cold.
That chills our heans as fever ague,
And now I once forever beg
Thou listen to my words on oath,
Though harsh in speech I'm ever loath.

The lass is fair, and fortune willed
That she in womanly wiles is skilled.
But naught will ever step beyond
What well becomes a lady fond.

■k ■

i'l

If!!

To prove her charms and cultured grace,

That aye become her noble race,

'Tis well ye know my veins were primed,

When wild religious scenes unkind

Disturb'd our country far and near,

So dear to hind laird and peer,

That I've the blood of martyr'd whig,

Our fathers pray'd on bare lea rig,

On mountain tops where eagles soar,

In many a cold and midnight hour.

They sang in uncouth'd barn and byre

Their new conn'd hymns with zealous fire,

That boded bad for mitred monk,

Whom from Knox laws scrupulous shrunk.

That I have prattled light and free,
As with a child ye'd like to see
Around thy knee, with heart so pure.
That long might ye wish to endure,
Thy precepts on such works of God,
As statute of Justinian code.

mm
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piiii
ill

;il«l

Ah Alec, hush, may God forgive.
That I with thee should wish to live;
May heaven protect me from disgrace,
And root me sister in this place.
To her* who far in ancient time
Didst linger loth to change her clime.
Was left a warning dread to those
Whom loss of pleasure doth dispose.

'Tis every morning cool and fair.
Thou dost the lover bright repair
To Sappho's grove, a tryst to keep,
Whilst I with mother silent weep;
And Janet like a lark doth sing,

• Lot's wife.

Or cushat dove, on swiftest wing,

Fly to her mate a cooing sweet,

As every eye doth watch you meet,

The trees relate this amorous scene

To every huckster that hath been

Around the country spreading news

As heaven will scatter evening dews.

They're welcome guests doth scandal bring,

Heedless whose tender heart they wring.

Now match thy actions with thy speech.

Or every shepherd's dog will peach.

Dost thou think me simple fool.

That I thy willing pawky tool

May drink thy words like nectar sweet.

And wait to praise thy double feat.

Oh lass, thy heart it's true and tender,
Why don't thou say I dare defend her ?
Why sayst thou not that I am playing
A double game whilst thou'rt praying
For my soul in deepest agony.
Or wish my frame fast in mahogany.

Come, come, dear Ruth, thou listen free.
And let each story drive from thee
The older faith that leas'd thy sou!
When quick from me my heart ye stole;
When mask'd at ball the Prince's wedding,
Why mother says thy linen bedding
With thy trousseau's half prepared.
'Tis soon we're man and wife ill-paired.

Oh band of Him who doth foul guide
The souls of sinners full of pride.
What brings yon figure on the scene,
Cowl'd dark in hood of serpent green ?
By heaven's pure light I see it now.
They've tried to rend our sacred vow.

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1 '1. ,
■ \ ' 1 '.

•M.\

Mil '

4 1 ■
1 i

My darling, coinc, why dost thou shiver ?
Their scandal's spent with Coniiis' quiver.
Now read this riddle deep and well,
Whom hath been floating such tale tell ?
While Sappho's groves ne'er shaded me
From Daphne's glance nor Phoebus e'e.

'Twas in our garden fair with flowers,
*Twas in the choicest of our bowers,
A rose ye pluck'd to weltering lie
Upon thy bosom, lovesick, dry ;
Cruel heretic with east wind breath,
To blast the fairest flower on earth.
The church anathemas dread and dire
Will bend thy head deep in the mire;
Down level with ni" sandal sole
Ye'll grub for mors,i with the mole.

From heaven a mantle fell, pure white
I at the instant stood upright.
And round my shoulders fold'd soft
This cloak that I had seen so oft
Enwrap the infant, guileless, pure.
When it could not this earth endure.

I mov'd to them majestic calm,
I did intend apply the balm
To wounded heart, with jealoi's love.
That I to her might fully prove
My heart was true, though all in vain.
We dare not rend this maid in twain.

I clasp'd their hands both cold in. mine,
Whose quick magnetic warmth entwine,
Their hearts a yearning to be one.
Whilst both my face they eager scan.
Ruth stammer'd, startled, nearly fell,
'Tis you a listening to our tale

i-t

Of woe, she cried, in gasping breatli.
I gently lied, and said with mirth,
The play was rare, the artist good,
And I was there in critic's mood,
And left the house with lighten'd heart
As every lady took her part
To please me and the audience well,
But why to you I cannot tell.

Alec's hearty laugh rang loud and clear,
That sniooth'd the wrinkles, dry'd the tear
Out my heart and Ruth's black e'e.
While friendship now had lent his key,
And all the flutterings of our heart
Was by-play in this foreign part.
She smiled and said, I'm glad to see
You are as frank and kind to me
As if I'd never rufT'd thy life,
Nor left between us a mark of strife.

I told of gipsies I had seen,
Who mark'd the spot upon the green
Where I should join the hands of two,
Whilst they such actions never rue.
They are of kith and kin thine own.
She from thy heart an angel flown,
But ye shall meet in mutual cause,
And mend the flaw in fickle laws
Of love that oft play hide and seek.
And many a foolish saucy freak.

I turned nie round and minstrel stood.
He was with Scott at Holyrood;
He struck a measure sweet and rare,
And round me tripped the happy pair.
Once, twice, then dancing lightly waved
Their kind adieu and all were saved,

■

They backward gallop'd slightly bent,
With faces beaming on me sent
Their kind farewell in thankful glee,
While I again was lone and free.

I eyed the Friar's figure grim,

And stalk'd athwart the lawn to him ;

I laid my hand upon his arm,

That caused him slight but short alarm.

I sooth'd the ruffled self-conceit

Of this father gruff to meet,

A friend of hers who baulk'd his game,

And sent him hirpling conscience lame.

I tried a course unusual, kind.
To tone the rigours of his mind,
Which seem'd to lose all human tie
Whilst the church's eagle eye
Scann'd his actions futile failed.
As through her portals none derailed.
Or through her ports none missailed.
Reach the haven in yonder sky.

Oh father, free I am on earth.

Well hast thou known me since my birth ;

This daughter of the holy church

Might on me lean in this sad lurch.

I've heard her name and seen her face,

There's none so handsome in this place.

He turned and growl'd like baited bear.

And hist out, scoundrel, do you dare

Bring thy heretical soul

Across the threshold of the goal,

Eternal justice there to find.

With Knox's precepts in thy m'nd.

To taint our flock with liberal thoughts >

Go mix and choose among the goats.

ill

I tripped as from the lawn I stept,
And wak'd to find I'd soundly slept
Within my arm'd chair, in sight
The scenes, but all had taken flight.

A DREAM.

I dreamt I saw the loveliest face,
Well mount'd for the autumn chase,
In habit green of Lincoln hue,
And nattiest hat in fashion new.
Her whip was plaited thong in three,
With deer foot shaft in filigree ;
Her steed of mettled Barbary breed,
Curvating to bit in charming need.
With arch'd neck and flowing mane.
He laughed at fence and water drain,
And wheel'd and danc'd so gently.
That one could tell his pedigree
Was high, and that his labours light
Were kept but for my lady bright.

I waited for the pack to pass.
And saw the harriers scent the p ass.
Then heard a cry, he's tean the -urse,
By this he was the leading horse:
And every turn wily reynard topk,
Her noble steed would clear the brook,
'Till at the death they stood alone,
And won the brush at fair Athlone.

LARNO AND HIS FIRST LOVE.

The sunshine 1 beheld of youth,

It gleamed again a time lorsooth,

To warm my blood I'rom lip to core,

Yet Camron said he had ne'er before

Heard my name nor seen my lace.

Or knew but little of my race;

And if, as Alary seemed to think,

Thy fame hath risen to the brink,

It dare not stir a thought in me.

Who roam the woods and course the lea.

This was a sneer, for he had seen

His wife felt deep her spouse's spleen.

I frankly said that I had been

In younger days a worthless wean;

That in a circle far from him

I rollick'd with a youngster's vim.

But oft had heard his glorious name.

For it had spread with monarch fame,

Then hand to hand the craft it swung,

And thicker grew the landlord's tongue,

Till he forgot his wife had been

My first, my last, my only queen.

All passion lulled as friendship woke
Towards the maid I did invoke
The first as goddess of my choice.
The Mayday queen o'er all my vice.
Mirth still enhanc'd her bonnie e'e,
While virtue left her frank and free.
There was no need of scowl or frown.
For she was pure as yonder stone
A shining in thy ring so bright,
That signals each reflecting light.

While fleeting years had taught us both.

That prudence will our passions clothe,

And shield us from the shafts of malice,

Whose eyes pierce through the thickest lattice

Yet mask'd was I, for still I felt

Bound hand and foot a robber Celt,

And at her will would I decree

To cut the hawser o'er the sea,

When drift I must back to the shore,

And scenes of youth again explore.

I drew her image on my knee,

She was a lassie scared to free

Her arms encircling mother's neck,

But quick my heart doth friendship make.

With one light kiss upon her lip,

While round my arm I gently slip

A slender waist and closely press,

For second hand o'er clock can't race

Around the circle till we're friends,

And love hereditary make amends

For all the failures of the past,

And eairly passion now o'ercast,

This emblem of Aurora fair,

With fleecy, golden, softest hair;

Her eye a tinted light in blue,

A lighter shade than mother's hue.

But soft as angels soothing sinners,

She looked at me through her four Summers,

And said in childish accents sweet,

'Tis mother's wish our Kate could meet

Thee. Larno, when the harvest's done,

And try the game of lost and won.

At hide and seek ye well might catch

Our Kate, and make a wedding match.

*Tis bedtime now. and ye must go
To rest thy limbs or ye'll not grow,

For she's her mother's dearest pet.
Thus spake her elder sister Kate.
With blushes sweet and beaming eye,
She rushed to free me of such fry,
That ought to sleep ere sun go down,
And win the promise of new gown.
But cling she would, and I was fain
To press this guileless soul again.
What blissful moments have I felt !
To read a face so young 'twould melt
The heart of anchorite or ruffian,
And share with you its evening mufiin.
Its gleeful prattle stirs a chord
That's deeply sunk in worldly hoard.
Oh what a love it wakes in me.
To hold God's image on my knee,
And speculate that we may see
The Scion's fruit so sweetly cored.

But part we must, my darling child,
Though sweet the moments ye beguil'd,
And when dear Kate and I are wed,
They daren't rush you to your bed.
I pressed her soft cheek close to mine.
And kissed her rosebud lip so fine.
And dropped a tear upon her brow.
Then thought her mother knows me now.

\f'\xi.

THE YOUNG EMIGRANT AND HIS SISTER.

One autumn night 'twas long ere dawn,
With windows closed and curtains drawn,
As frosty winds blew shrill and chill.
My mind unfettered by my will
Coin'd thoughts at random wild;
In fact I dreamt I was a child,
And I was powerless to fulfill
The wishes dear of sister ill,
Who plead'd through her rising tears,
With much foreboding of the years.
That I should never part from her,
And cross the seas to western stir.
It was a sister fair and kind.
Sweet of thought' and pure of mind,
While if a Catholic she'd been bred.
Her prayers through tears she often said,
And tean the veil, for she was good,
In pilgrimage walk'd to Holyrood;
Nor could she e'er be made believe
What histories round poor Mary weave
Of doubtful lovers, foreign fry,
Call'd Knox a boor to make her cry.

Said Betty's soul was far too small,
While jealous of sweet charms.

For Mary shone in bower at ball.
Drove England's queen to arms.

It seems as if she said to me.
Think of me. laddie, o'er the sea.
For I would like to learn so well.
Didst e'er thine eye match bonnie Belle,
Or didst thy heart recover quite
That early boyish love lost fight.
I've this to say, be who she may.

i !;l

Her gains will be in sweet by-play,
Be she in mind and soul so pure,
That not in gospel ye secure
A name and nature fitly set
To all the graces truth beget.
Be all her wiles with kindness knit,
Do ail her smiles round wisdom flit,
The wrinkles smooth in fretted hour.
Then ye will live in heyday bower.

But waes me, dearie, how ye prattle,
And I could listen to thy tattle
For hours to come without one thought.
The sheep are scattered round the moat,
The newt are lowing for the stall,
While horsemen peep o'er garden wall
To see their steeds stand in the newk.
Far from the mill leads murmuring brook.
The gloaming's set, and still is the sky.
For not a bird is wing'd on high,
They cosy chirp upon the boughs,
And dream of stooks far o'er the knowes.

Then, laddie, go and gather in
Our father's flocks and good fat kine.
And I will muse another hour
And think I'm in a fairy bower.
Till ye have brought my Zetland Job
To get his bread, the dear old cob.
He eats so kindly from my hand,
While quietly at the door he'll stand
To let me plait his flowing mane,
And rub his nose against the pane.
When father's laid his doublet down,
And mother's cares are all around
Our fire of peat and oil feed lamp ;
While servants gather from the swamp,
And kitchen rings with merry song

Of some blithe lad that knows no wrong,

Ye'll read to me some fiction, dear,

That teils of Scottish maid sincere.

What say thee to a verse of Scott's,

Where Hellen Douglas tends the goats,

And cheers her neighbours far and near

With song so sweet and voice so clear ?

When James Fitzjames bids her adieu,

And tries to catch a distant view;

When he has crossed Loch Katrine's tide,

And murmurs, what a lovely bride

This maid would make to king or squire,

And oh what eyes of heav'n's pure fire.

Or will ye bring me to the scene,

Where Marmion's carried back the fiend,

To plead his long forsaken love,

By all the powers that rule above ?

One cup of water from the spring.

But Scott his country's wrongs doth sing.

While I'd fain close eye and ear,

Be carried dead on ghostly bier.

Than doubt those terrible scenes were true,

Where Scotland's youth so gallant threw

Their lives away to stem the tide

Of Henry's hordes and Marmion pride.

We'll finish up with one great song

Sung to the Lord of Hosts among

The Israelites, who prayed and fought,

Yet sanction'd gains so ill begot;

And used the Almighty's solemn word

To sharp their fratricidal sword.

But poet* of the poets preat,

What maid doth not so deep regret,

How sisters in the holy land

Disturb'd the dear old king's command.

'}!'

• Solomon,

lii

Now when my health again returns,
And bright the lamp of life it burns,
I'll gather round me all that's prone,
To grateful thank kind Persephone;
And to my side draw Belle so dear,
To whisper thy name in her ear,
With all the great deeds ye have done.
And something of the hearts ye've won.
Now, sister dearest far on earth,
Be cautious ; she's so fond of mirth,
She'll dance through night to early dawn,
Then meet Aurora on the lawn,
When troth it is so hard to tell
Where Phoebus' maid or bonnie Belle
Appear the rrearest to the rose,
Ere dew before the sun it goes.
What whistle niakes that echo clear,
Down by the river far and near.
While lively tread the early feet
That now resound from lane to street ?
I drew the blind, and lo,! behold
Mount Royal all a sheet of gold ;
The fairie sister's come and gone.
While yet I'm flesh, blood and bone.

\tn

GERTRUDE AND THE GIPSY.

1 sat by the window near the street,
Below where the maples all but meet,
From early dusk till the moon rose high.
Steering her course through a starry sky,
To drink the cream of the milky way,
And shadows throw of the gables grey
Athwart the street towards the east.
Where great Belshazzar held his feast.
And not a figure cross'd her disc,
Man nor beast, slow nor brisk;
Till I heard the watchman's feet
Echoing far through every street.
All else was still as the grave within.
Where now I wish my faith to pin.
Than rather endure this pang of woe,
And think of him who long ago
Stole my heart and holds it now.
While I nurse his broken vow.

And dream of days that should have been,
While dancing round in circles gay.

Where we'd tripp'd as light I ween.
As fairies do on the first of May.
I nightly westward longing look
For the dusky shadows of the rook.
And from their language, height and flight,
Draw favourite omens, wrong or right.
Auspicious to my fevered mind.
And oft my auguries true I find.
If heavenwards fly and swin around.
Twice, thrice above the house I've found.
'Twas last I heard of him that night.
While disappointment's tears I'd fight.
They windward fly as arrow straight.
And low to eye the sewerage grate,

■;|

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Their glossy plumage black reflect
Bright on the window pane erect;
And by a double cunning caw,
Warns the household to withdraw.

I am not the priestess of Apollo,
Nor from the tripod issue hollow
Mystic phrases fit to read.
The way that suits the votary's need.

But while my hair free girtle pin,
Careless flows around my e'en;
I'd see his figure lithe and slight,
Didst moon nor stars shade no light;
For in their wake this night he comes,
As sure as four and four eight sums.
If the squirrel's tread lighter be.
His elastic footstep fancy free.
He trips as for a marriage feast,
Or dance at harvest home in the east.
Then sporting in the gloaming grey,
When thoughtless we have much to say
Of what has been, of what may be.
Of what we've seen, of what we'll see,
Till parting hour the clock strikes then,
'Tis gently mother's voice says ten.
But oh, I'm telling what hath been,
Of what again may ne'er be seen
In our parlor's armed chair,
Where we. a bright and happy pair,
Saw such blunders others make,
Saw the paths they didst forsake,
Never thought we would partake
Of such doubts and deep despair.

Said he,
There is no eye magnetic true,
That dare draw me away from you;
There is no twinkle in the starry heavens.

Not the Pleiads with their mystic sevens,
That has a glory in my e'en,
'Twould equal thine when sparkling seen
Through sweetest tears of heartfelt joy,
When we meet and ye're not coy.

Oh was yon guileless chatter true,
Or was thy soul of gruesome hue.
Marring thoughts to deceive and fret
My heart upon the rocks of fate.
Or some vain, ambitious woman,
Drawing thee in her net so cunning;
Some syrens from Calypso's isle,
Whose tongue was taught to beguile,
Who foil'd Ithiaca son so grave,
And held him years a bond'd slave.

Oh hand of fate, ye've grace to spare,
I know the ingredients unco rare ;
I'll cross thy mystic hand just double.
If witch of yours would to me hobble.
Oh come now, wilful god of chance.
Thou art no miser to enhance
Thy stores I know, but luckless maid
Hast oft before her footing paid,
And had her fortune truly told
By some gipsy grim and old,
Who claim'd relationship with you,
Tho' born and bred a thievish shrew.

The witch comes.

Oh gods betide, what's this, unearthly,
Weird and stealthy, grim and stately ?

Witch.

Shall I read thy future woe ?
Shall I tell thv life below ?

!": i

Gertrude.

Yes, yes, read on; that hath pass'd,
Sure ye've got the cards wrong class'd.
Married ? no, a woman black or fair.
Money ? nauglit for that he care.
A ring ? the witch, with black hair ?
Oh the villain, if he dare.
I know her now, thy art is perfect,
I see her face, he'll have a surfeit
Of bad temper, heaven preserve him,
In his choice luck deserve him.

Gertrude.

Do thou shuffle ? twice again,
He'll have a dozen in his chain;
He may come near me: what I'd give
To pin a bouquet there to live
Upon his heart, the truesome rogue,
Tho' faith his action's much in vogu>

Witch.

He's turn'd his back upon the wench,
Tho* troth she never seems to flinch.
But follows fast with bags of gold,

Gertrude.

Ah ! now I'm safe, for oft it's told
By friend and foe that he'll despise
The maid who does her tocher prize.
Oh where am I, behind, before ?
Just let me stand outside the door.

Witch.

He offers ring to maiden fair,
'Tis you, my lass, I do declare.

Gertrude.

Enough, enough, goddess that ye be.
I'll palm thy hand with double fee;
This is a seal upon thy lip,
For not a word of this let slip.

Witch.

Maiden with the bright blue e'en,
Maiden with the kirtle sheen.
What ye've heard, what I've seen.

Ne'er will float in air.
By the powers commission'd me.
Should this golden eagle flee.
Wonder less I would to see,

Than you a happy pair.

Gertrude.

Witch or warlock, gipsy queen,
Know I aught of where ye've been.
Nor in the future far I've seen,

To doubt thy mystic art.
Be your signs and symbols taken.
From the harpy's soul forsaken.
For such maiden's love mistaken,

I now accept my part.

I;:

SIR JOHN THE THIRD.

The night was dark, no blink of star,
While down pour'd floods so free,

That ark might float on Tantarmar,
Like steamship on high sea.

The windows rattled, sill and pane,

While every gust sent thuds of rain.

That Nancy vowed the mail dare never

Cross Brailey's Brook or James River.

But with the dame I argued thus,

That streams take time their bank to plus.

As waters flow from mountains far.

While local showers no passage bar.

We list for wheel to gravel grate.

No whip didst crack though it was late;

And I so restless, fretful grew,

That every gust brought doubts anew

Of Jamie and his chestnut mare.

Who at hobgoblins apt to scare;

Yet this were idle, fruitless doubts.

While none would volunteer as scouts,

And aye some import deep and far

Kept peering through prospective bar,

To beat its wings against my heart.

As if some actor missed his part.

How old's thy uncle, Nancy dear ?
To me it seems this very year
He's reach'd the distance measur'd full,
Where dial move repentance stool.
When all his sins must be interred.
Where body lies or soul preferred.
But this I doubt that aught so foul
Could taint that heavenly part, the soul,
At least no penalty e'er we've paid
For sins our soul hath cast and laid

Before it reached this earth so bright;
And if thou guard thy spleen aright,
Thy sins will melt like April ice,
If frank repentance gets its price.

Yes, two years o'er run corrected time.
Old Noah got for every clime;
Me hopes his substance will outlast
His mortal frame so firmly cast.
And leave a tocher for our loss,
Who never yet his wants let pass.

Yet ever to my mind it clung,
A weight of future woe unsung ;
To country dear or province wide.
The news must surely ill betide.

Young friend,. to thee I will declare.
Though sly this truth you may impare,
But sweat roU'd down in beads a size,
That ye might see ere sun arise.
On cabbage blades or curly kail,
So oft they drop the crop ne'er fail.
I said to those around the fire.
That I would peer through every byre,
To see if all the kine were fast.
As Jersey cow her calf might cast.
If some marauding ox didst gore
Her sleeked sides, the savage boer.

Taut, tauts, guidman, thou art a fire
What wakes this roving mad desire,
Thy cattle's awed as thou unman'd
By nature's wild unlicensed hand,
And dare not move a foot or ear,
Nor chew the cud for very fear.
Come by the ingle bright and warm,
Methinks the gale won't steal the farm,
Nor wilt thy fret grease axle tree,

M iiHi!
Ill

' 1;

m'l

To ease the coach o'er marshy lea.

We often heard of second sight,

With ken bedimmed in ages night;

And heard of vision of the dying,

Whose shoes some wretch had been sighing,

Would fit him or her as snug,

As Mutchkin in a cream pint jug.

This lightsome prattle griev'd me much,

While close my soul was drawn in touch

With actions distant, solemn and great,

For troth I felt the hand of fate

Had seal'd the doom of God or man

Who stood a leader in the van

Of life's hard battle, bronzed and tried,

A noble bridegroom for that bride.

Fair Miss Success, fortune's pride.

Come, scatter lads, here's leader's nose.
On window pane his hot breath blows.
While from his forelock runs a stream,
'Twould drive a millwheel fast, I ween.

I'll to the stable warm and snug.
And from the chestnut draw his rug.
Yes, Joe, hitch up the black's head high.
Strap Dapple close, she's apt to shy;
Now, Jamie, lad, how do you count,
Did some few the outside mount.
While team'd the waters from the sky.
How didst thou, Jim, keep bags so dry ?
Thou guardest well the royal mail.
But lost the race with some black snail.

Great Donald, postman to the Queen.
The news I bring must change the scene;
This night when Marshy Hope we spoke,
The wires had caught the fatal stroke.
And wafted news from London town.
That county go in mourning gown.

Oh secret heavens ! what hast betci
Our dear old county, hill and dale t
I knew a spirit wrought on me,
As if I'd better bend my knee
To powers above for their support,
Than deem this night foreboding spoit.
Come, man, unburden fast thy mind,
Or jacket tliey for me must find.
Oh, Jamie, nerves thou hast of steel.
Why in such parables dost thou deal ?
By the great lakes of Bras d'Or,
By St. Ninan's fabled lore,
By Beddeck's speckled trout,
And the famous Indian scout,
If spirit e'er commun'd with you,
Who think ye by the great Jehu,
Donald, was thine uninvited guest.
That work'd such flutterings in thy breast,
Ere sun had pass'd meridian line ?
The feast /vas spread for hero mine
In that old pile v^here merry wives
Fool'd the knights, but iaved their lives.
In Windsor Hall the call was death,
The third Sir John drew final breath.
And at the feet of our dear Queen,
Took farewell of men and mean.

The last premier, the last oak tree.

The axe hath laid full low,
Oh Donald, woes this day for thee,
And glorious for thy foe.

'Tis true a Castor I have been,

Which gained this office from the Queen,

But at the bishop's kind behest

I voted Tory for a jest.

Yet, oh ! Mclsaac. heaven be here,

I'll turn my coat for thee sincere.

:'i

!! !ll|

\i ii

J II,

Yes, Jamie, yes, good-night, my lad,
'Tis unco true thy news is sad;
But hopes the dice will turn up sixes,
Still draw our pay and pay our taxes.
Heard thou he died a Catholic true.
To earn the church salvation due ?

If maid didst read the wires aright.
But she's an auld kirk shining light,
Declar'd in Scotchman arms he fell,
Before a bead or prayer could tell.
That in Westminster's noted creed,
As winding sheet his heart did bleed,
An exit suited well the man.
Worthy to accept great Knox's plan.
I argued strong against this gipsy.
Who to my face declared me tipsy;
And held a Catholic well might seek
In neutral church a creed so meek.

Now, highland chief, look to thy dirk,
Or o'er the left we a' may smirk.
This night in Antigonish will meet.
Some whigamores to trim the seat.

God speed them, Jamie, lad ; it's true.
If they regain it's but their due;
Give leader rein, keep pole more whipt,
Nor badger aught till thou hast leapt
Upon the steps Lochaber arms,
And list thee well for grit alarms.

Methinks my husband's lost his head.

Now, Donald dear, go to '■•y bed,

The news is more than tho;- canst stand,

To think a wave of fate's cruel hand

Hast swept away thy benefactor,

Who from the plough to mail contractor

pul

Rais'd thee up while naught was asked,

But in his reverence sunshine basked.

Good-night, my neighbours, pick your steps

Eschew the eaves that ceaseless drips;

And sur« dear Flora will repeat

The fatal news from county seat.

Oh ! Donald, man, what foul disgrace

Thy loose, insipid tongue doth trace

Around our honour'd ancient name.

Which stands so high in Scottish fame.

Thou talk'd of naught but pelf and belf.

And all before that Jamie elf —

That Irish blarney, fool and rogue,

Naught better than a highland dog.

Long ere to-morrow's sun hath set,

Auld Sydney ring with thy deceit ;

No hawker, huckster on the road,

But deems thee breed a marsh stole toad.

To mar the bishop fancy clear,

With doubts his holy reverence* smear ;

Who took the good man by the hand,

And fame his judgment did outstand,

The sneers of local folks so proud,

Who talk and laud their neighbour loud.

When all are sure to share alike,

When Church and State their honours strike,

Thou' St thrown thy thoughts loose to the wind.

See hurricane cruel thy interest rend.

I have a hope that Father Neil

Some day may catch thee with the deil,

Backsliding, shuffling, cowardly schemer,

Thou wouldst betray the great Redeemer.

* It is now a well-known fact the countryfhas to thank this eminent Prelate for extending
sv. friendly a hand to the great Stateiman, and assisting him up the sieps to the platform of
public life.

Oh Nancy, Nancy dear, my spouse,

Thy curtain lecture might arouse

The calm of saint who never felt.

Were he of Saxon blood or Celt,

That canker worm, that sneak remorse,

Which like to sleuth hound trail the course

Of our misdeeds, and howling keep

The best of sinners from their sleep.

Till sweet repentance break the scent.

Then angry yelp the pack so pent.

Forby in spirits foul thou dealt.
That if thy kine were tallow melt.
And sent as candles to the Pope,
Thy sins would still require the rope.

I'll saddle Meg, the auld brown mare,
And long ere cock-crow trite appear
Before his grace in palace grim.
Confess my faults and sins to him.

Donald, wait, and let the devil gnaw

Thy bones as soft as April thaw.

Then like to frozen prairie beef,

Thou wilt grow tender ere relief

Hath cool'd thy conscience fever hot,

Before ye're boil'd in brimstone pot.

Be on thy bed. and nature kind

With sleep so sweet will ease thy mind;

While fair Aurora's beaming hope

Will lend 'ihee strength and grace to cope

With friends and foe, far and near,

And bring salvation in her rear.

LETTER FROM DAUGHTER FLORA.

Oh, mother dear, I wander'd late
Along the bank of Storno's river.
While sprat was left my hook to bait.
Of home and uncle I thought never.
Then curfew bell St. Ninan's rang,

And clouds grew angry black.
The feathery flock their warning sang.
While thunder cannon-like didst bang,
I ran and hurried back.

The air itself was silent, sad.

Nor o'er the hills so thick pine clad

Came sough of storm while I was hurrying,

And goats up mountain groves were scurrying.

But sombre look the face of man.

Of either ilk or highland clan,

I met below the meadow bridge.

Or as I left the fallow ridge.

While tripping up the street so meek,

As if I'd left the town a week,

Some heavy rain began to drop.

While tears an old man couldn't stop

Came rolling down his wither'd cheek,

And essaying fail'd his thoughts to speak.

In quandary now to what could wring

The heart of him who'd view'd the spring

Come seventy times and five so green.

Had felt the winter frost so keen,

And all the ups and downs that fill

A well spent life in glen or hill.

A group around the post door stood,

In muffl'd, thoughtful, long-faced mood,

And spake in whispers short and calm.

'■ m

li
III I

■ I I

As if from dearth of human bahii.
Tho' one is welcome aye to mingle
Where sorrow shows itself not single,
I dare not list to human voice,
For death, I felt, had made his choice
Of some one near and dear to me.
At his behest I'd bend my knee,
Though on the street macadamized,
Nor jeer, nor sneer, had me surprised.

When near the house where wires are tapped.
That gives the news of world full mapp'd,
I saw my uncle grave and solemn.
And heard a voice I thought extol him;
But I, so shy, stood gazing on,
Till out he ran and said the throne,
Like Pompey's statue, felt the flutter
Of loosen'd mantle, not the splutter
From the cruel assassin's knife.
In short, Sir John hath pass'd from life.
While he a guest of our dear Queen,
Death call'd and sadly changed the scene.

I've heard of news so sudden broke

Give to the brain a fatal stroke;

I've heard of shattered frames from such,

And death extend'd claims to much.

Till all were gone of kith and kin.

While honours stood this line to win.

If blood of hiiu I'd been so pure.

My soul had felt so insecure.

In mortal frame of mother earth.

So thoughtless moved towards our hearth.

Dear mother knows I'm convent bred,

And with his kith my lesson said;

And felt exalted with their touch.

They thought and prayed for him so much.

ii;/

While I, a lass of humble station,

Felt great nature's discretion,

When fate's inexorable land

The choice of gods swcp from the land.

I stumbled on, but never saw

Our garden wall with hip and haw ;

With instincts of the purer kind,

I never look'd before, behind,

Till my feet they tripped not high,

As round the steeple winds didst sigh,

Of good St. Ninan born Celt,

To whom this house of God was built.

I knelt, dear mother, whore I stood,

And told my beads to virgin good,

For the manes of this great man,

While oft I thought of life's short span.

'Twas now I know the heavens wept.
As I retraced and gently crept
Across the mill stream, roaring wild,
But with my soul as pure's a child,
I thought of those on Ottawa's strearr.
One lassie lame his favorite theme,
When to the convent he would come.
And there relate the scene at home
Of what she said, of what she sent,
What by this or that was meant ;
And they the seniors of this charge
Would on the subject fond enlarge.
And with their father questions change.
While o'er the scene at home they'd range.

But, mother, I must say good-bye,
Keep father quiet to tend the kye.
Already Whigs keen sniff the air,
And change of place will be their care ;
But, uncle dear, the best of scouts,
Will mark their words and whereabouts.

|i<

Now I, your loving daughter Flora,
Hopes ye' re not weighted down with sorrow;
May grace of heaven be on thy heads,
And sweet rose brier deck thy beds.

Oh ! Donald, were thy conscience clean
As this sweet maid's, this comely queen.
For dare one think her blood hath drained
Through thy foul veins, black sin stain'd.

' i El -

' ill 11'
Si: llBl >

No, Nancy, no, it is quite true.
Nor could she ere be aught to you,
Measured by your standard as a shrew —
A part last night thou acted well.
While shrilly rose thy voice, and fell.
Higher than the mighty fanes.
Warring o'er departed manes.
Like faction fights or petty creed,
Cavillous o'er some great man's deeds.

For thirty years we've sail'd our course.
While reef, nor rock, nor high winds force
Have strain'd or driven uur ship ashore ;
Come, Donald, let us quarrel no more.

THE BRIDES OF LONGUEUIL.

The sun had Hushed Mount Royal's brow,
The moon, to prove her marriage vow,
Had set Belle Isle bright in a lowe,

Down in the east.
Grey streaks were dyed vermilion red,
Athwart the welkins arches spread,
As arras fine drap sacred bed,

To soothe a dying priest.

When down St. Mary's current swift

A boat majestically didst drift ;

To hard a starboard change her course.

Where twinkling lights through seeming gorsd

Play on the banks, a nestling sweet ;

Where great Le Moyne's seigniorial seat

Lies calm in richest leafy robes,

To woo the evening breeze that throbs,

Woke by the waters mighty rush,

A twirling cool through break and busli.

To ruf¥ the maple's spreading leaf.

To bring the city's son relief

From stifling air and sweltering heat,

That through the stately buildings beat.

To trees a clump'd in landscape's mapped,

With leaves a verdure emerald sapped.

Here dainty maids, like fairies neat.

Trip down their father's kind to meet.

Expectant of the daily gift.

Some sweets or toy as fancy shift.

With searching eyes and beaming face,

The wee things wait till hawser brace

The throbbing body of the ship-

Then down the pier the lassies skip.

To feel the gentle soft embrace.

And filial give their welcome kiss.

1 1 1 .

Abaft the gangway Alctv stood,

To calmly watch the j ostlers rude,

Awaking doubts of tire on board,

As they from rail and stanchion lowered,

With thoughts of home where hundreds thu

In years had hung the lentel tree.

Full half this Hfe in doubt had fled,
As margin notes of care deep wade
Along a brow once marble smooth.
And round an eye of Norman ruth.
Might tell how early he had felt
The ruthless eye of maiden melt.
The wreath of purest virgin snow,
That nature in our bosom blow.

A proud Canadian, dark and slim.

Who bore a passion's galling whim,

That only one of all her sex

Could float the sulken hulk of wrecks;

Could pull the fruit now o'er ripe,

That she had watched in early life,

A chrysalis ere it took wing,

A laden bee too clogg'd to sting.

While fortune, in her fiddling fun,
Had smiled on one without a son,
Tho' Clotho's shears had cut the string,
And let the miser soul take wing.
Yet he a second self had found,
In sister's son a sure impound.
To hoard the gains so mighty close.
That bear nor bull could tear nor toss.

He'd learned to early grab the mast,
His lot had been in fallow cast.
And when the sun of fortune shone
Down on this field of flinty stone,
It frizzled like the fallen leaf,
When dew surcome to sun and whifF.

But he must choose a youthful mate,
From whom no goddess dare abate
A jot of nature's cunning prize,
Whose mien the graces didst devise,
And crown a queen of hearts complete.
To early Alcee's plans deleat.
Now gloating avarice fed the wiles,
And hands maternal spun the coils
That round the maiden's weak estate
They wound a sordid web of fate.
Till she a pliant in their hands
Agreed to hear the church's bans,
Agreed to break her early ties.
Alas, to see how gold outvies
AfTection's purer gifts unasked,
For she in love's bright sunshine basked.

For both would Akce fain disburse,
And split the coin in his light purse.
When Natalia's will fell back unhinged,
And two young lives were then impinged.
They wed a bugbear to a saint,
A sure forfeit to blessings meant.
Along the banks grave ^ > 6 went.
As if on naught he care comment.
But what was past, good or bad,
And on the scenes where he a lad
Had bent his oar a sportsman true,
Had steer'd the yacht as sail she drew;
The lively breeze Laurentian swept,
When to the isle his course he kept.
Where floods roll at a sluggish pace.
And channel bids for wider base.

Terrestrial star-'' comi)ote so keen
With pure celestial heavenly sheen
Adown St. Laurent's mirror'd face.
That ye such objects aye may trace.

* Electric lights o^ the City of Moiitrei!.

As steal along with muftled oar,
Or anchor near the rapids roar,
To net a perch so dimpled sleek ;
Or where the lovers silent seek
A purling stream to row against,
That he may bend his back fornenst,
And aye draw closer to her ear,
To wish it were the short leap year.
Behind him high the villas rang
With echoes, as the maidens sang
A chorus from some opera rare.
That charming swell the lucid air
In groves like where the naiads m.. ..
To woo the nightingale so sweet.
And warbling tunc their mellow notes,
That o'er the bay so sweetly float.

They hark to catch the voyageur song,
That speed canoes so blithe along.
And wake the cadence dying soft.
Till every soul is winged aloft.
On song of pure Canadian blowth,
That fills the mind with native worth.

Such dainty spots of white are seen,
Where stiiYing breeze the yacht careen.
To force a slight hysteric laugh
From female folks beneath the gaff.
But now they hifT and bear away.
To ca^cli the steady winds that play
Along the island serried shore.
Whose stu.Hded star help to explore
The ocean tramp and lumber craft.
That trim their carg; from the raft.

For every one when I was young,
A brood of twenty now hath sprung ;
When looking back this scene was sparse,
Tho' deep our waters didst immerse

This rock I rest my limbs upon.
For in chaloupe I oft have gone
Between it and those banks so green,
That's high and dry full summer seen.

Oh might this gala wave now float
My stranded barque nigh well forgot;
Oh winds of fancy, fill the sail,
And waft her trim 1)efore the gale.
To moorage in some haven fair.
Tho' troth the wreck is past repair.

Ye winds that rent the gearin' free.
Ere yet her keel had cut the sea.
Three times to test her windward speed
Thou wert the spawn of Satan's greed —
The fickle blast that faithless feed
The phantom ghost of what might be.
fT:id T liecn heir so favor'd lief.
Had T the right seigniorial fief.
To lands where lomr our Gallic race
Their name so bold o'er signet trace,
I to Natalia could have said.
Take this name in honour laid.
Take my rents on freedom paid,

For thy gentle hand.
Fairy queen of Norman blood.
By St. Lawrence mighty flood.
Baronial mi'^trc^'^ of our stud.

A hunting fallow land.

Thou hast stolen half my heart.
Be wife to great King Louis Bart,
Be chosen queen of social art.
In my dear Longueuil.

Mother be to die rubs fair,
Nurture soft in tender care,
Dainty present's nature spare.
To happy hours beguile.

■iWI

But list ! I hear the curfew bell,
So rings the belfry's warning knell,
That tcnty feet should be unshod.
That they should quit the grassy sod,
And hurrying trip o'er dusty clod,
Down lane and street pell mell.
The wind hath vcer'd another point,
To north by east it may anoint
The bending sheets with flying loani
Ere many a yachtsman reaches home.
He'll have to reef and clue his jib.
And feel the waters lash her rib,
And give St. Helen's wider birth.
Or he might strand in Lambert firth.

The (Inmucil galaxy bodes a squall.
To heel the galliot or yawl ;
The moon's encircled in a ring,
Methinks foul Vvcather sure will bring.
Prognosticators read it thus,
That sailors, to ivoid a iv-f.
Tight reef'd «!iot.ii scud before the gale.
Grows i'ast in strength to dip the rail.
To er.^n the face of heaven with veil
Of aii«ry shower that naught discuss.

We'll to the quay's end bend our steps.
And mix with many who at wonders gapes.
And many more frau.ght with anxious mind.
Whom in their licarts feel for all mankind,
While other's safety is their sole intent,
Just if they were down from heaven sent.
And naught had learned of this selfish world,
Nor through the maze of contention whirled.

Such apothegms resound to thy credit.
See yon wave, see the sloop that ride it ?
Watch her build her rakish mien.
Now, Crapaud, say was she ever seen

Coursing here when the night display'd

The empty throne of old Atlas maid.*

I will say this to thy question bold,

There be some secrets remain untold ;

So well I know thee since thy youth,

That in thine ear I will lisp the truth,

For thee a confident need never blush.

Nor doth thou ever shaft foul scandals brush.

She clears in failli lor huinc foreign port.

With liquors staved, aye, of every sort ;

While customs duties nigh double sum

The price of fin'st Jamaica rum.

Then why shouldn't we poor devils try

By every means at first figures buy ?

The country's rich, whilst half is stolen

By those who'r been our revenues controllin'.

When every mortal in the place hath dreamt
That they for king or queen were surely meant.
Those mystic sails bend for Baptiste's cove.
Or in the offing she'll be slyly hove;
When through her hatches the puncheons bound
As silent skim our canoes around,
And like to coffin those precious pipes
Are from the deck lower'd by naval swipes.
Then for the beach we row with caution blent,
Though before a cobble as a scout's been sent;
Should the coast be clear of marauding owls,
We land our booty e'er the crowing fowls
Stretch their necks to wake the saints for prayers,
Or he from honest labour sleep of his cares,
While the frigate sails for foreign ports,
Touching often, but ne'er to customs reports.

Methought the business good of late.
When tideman's folks dress up to date ;
Yet that's not here nor there to me,
Be fortunes made by land or sea.

The lost Pleiacl.

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How angry winds lash the water's ia''%
The stream so deep they will displace ;
Whoever sails t'"is treacherous courst
Must feel the weather's awful force,
Ere in some mill creek's hidden source
He shelter finds to stay a brace.
Unhaven'd none can live this night,
And fast they come like sheep afright,
Of hungry wolves or scenting dogs,
That ravage field and fold the rogues.

To wintlward, leeward, fast they tack,
Oh such a night for brig or smack.
Now, Crapaud, watch yon lubber wearing,
Upon the caique straight down he's steering ;
He's struck her on the larboard bow,
Great heavens ! she reels and lurches now.
It's Crocus and his stolen bride,
Now at the mercy of the tide.
A dire collusion, all are sinking,
Whilst we stand here a weather blinking.

From ofT my limbs this toga tear.
There's naught in sea or land I fear.
While her life so precious hangs
Upon old Neptune's griz/.'y bangs.

Hold ! madman, hold ! don't sell thy life.
Such men as thee is not so rife,
Leander's maiden would have said.
Stand firm this night on shore that breed
The pride of Longueuil's famous youth,
Don't risk that monster's foaming mouth,
'Tis feeding fodder to the dead.
He's sunk to rise and beat the wave,
'Tis lose a life or some one save.
Oh god of seas, we pray to thee.
Thy power so great in bargin 'gree.
To kingly aid yon humane arm.
For round him mad thy forces swarm."

Ilia ^ IS

Hir

My life for those I must now guard,
Who bears my name or thus ill ^tarr'd,
Yon sailor's late is courtmg mine,
And I their sufferings would combine.
To prove such feelings stress define.
Or leave the gates of heav'n unbarr'd

No sporting dolphin on the waves

Such ease displays when he engraves

The tortur'd deep with mighty arm,

As blast it churns the sea to barm.

And waves come up like Fundy's bore.

Oh fates foreiend, he's dash'd right o'er.

The victims of this sudden squall,

But now he giasps the sinking yawl.

To choose sweet morsel for his haul.

Through troth with him she doth imiMore.

Oh Aicet, Alcet, save my child,
So sweetly nurtured, un beguiled ;
I've wasted all my blighted life

Tu make her quite a second self;
I've rear'd her for thy lawful wife.

With aid'd fathers frett'd pelf.

Do not demur a moment more,
We know not what the future store
To feed our passions, good or bad.
Remember me when bright a lad;
Let her be me thy heart be glad.
And swim for Longueuil's shore.

The brightness of her maiden eye
Lights lip his course, though with a .^igh
lie caught the water's rolling force ;
He knew it needless to discourse,
Or strong her will defy.
And on the mighty wave was toss'd.

)r*f

Mil

Like dank seaweed or mermaid ghost ;
At arm's full length he guides the load,
His right hand steers the watery road,
Till in oblivion lost.

They lift them lifeless on the pier,
Through death's dark door they silent peer,
Till skillful hands a cunning tend,
And from the darts of death defend
Brave Alcee and his dear.

As lulling winds the waves subdue,
The boats are niann'd with each a crew,
Who for the victims bend their oars,
And round the wreck for life explores.
Keen searching eyes behold a sight,
'Twould melt the pirate in the fight,
Though rich the prize might him retire,
Nor need again at seaman fire.

Those nimble, cunning fingers neat,

Fleet o'er the ivory oft had beat.

Now lock'd ard'ind the wrists of him

Who hung in stupor by such slim

Support between him and his grave.

Nor aught he doth of Plutus crave.

But full his rights to charity wave.

For one JKjur his soul to trim.

Athwart the keel two figures hung

Suspend'd just as we have sung.

OI; Nat alii a'-e thy woes all wrought

In that gordian fatal knot ?

All the false hopes long hast flown.

Rank the weeds through wheat hath grown;

Now the night flower it has blown.

That dire oblivion's fumes Hegot.

Didst monster'^ gnaw my petted lass ?

Didst Andromeda through them pass ?

Oh cloth our mother cartli siipi)ort
Our comely image and consort ?
Now speak in truth my lot is cast,
For I in her will only last.
Oh cheer me through the midnight blast,
Where we must soon disport.
In chorus loud the boatman sung,
That maids her lass a dripping wrung,
And church bells loudly praises ring,
For -xlcee, who didst gallant bring
The flower of Longueuil on his breast.
Now waits for thee his welcome guest

I doubt your hyperbolic talc

Of joy that rings from every bell.

Or sweet her face yc e'er beheld,

For waters cruel his strength compeli'd

To yield the gift kind nature gave.

Who'd gild his name and honor brave.

The coxswain from his pouch he drew

A family ring that didst ensue

Along the line her female race,

And now the last his hand light press,

With heirloom to God's mercy vouch,

Though silent sweet her term she couch.

The mother's thoughts so dire she'd read.

And then perhaps from yon hard bed

She ne'er again trips light and free,

To daily cheer grim beggary.

'Tis good; that token will dispense
All doubts that hold a mind intense ;
Thou wilt sweet fortune's smile behold.
And catch a shower of Danae's gold.

The pibroch's sound in clansman's ear
On fatal field lulls doubt and fear :
The swan foretells her coming death.
With sweet the notes her dying breath,

The first, the last, her only song,
'Twere sad ior memory to prolong.
But they who heard the treble notes
Ring clarion like so fonUly dotes
Upon that figure as she hung,
As high in heav'n her arms she swung,
And cried adieu, adieu, mankind,
'Tis not with you on earth I find
Such peace that I for other kind
Have sued and softly sung.

Then bent she back as Baptist dipt,
When all his sins from him is wipt,
Till surging rose the waters wild,
As winding sheet for nature's child.
And o'er the vortex bubbles boil'd,
To mix the tears stout boatmen wept.

As if great nature keenly felt,
And powers that be in silence knelt,
A moment and the winds subside.
The rolling waters backward tide,
As escort to the heav'nly bride,
While Boreas rage to zephyr melt.

WEDDING DAY.

Come, child of hers, who didst engraft
Upon my love that sweetest draft,
Forget-me-nots that bloom in you,
She last was seen by Calia's crew
At twenty paces from thy feet.
Oh dry thy tears so pure and meet.
They're dewdrops fresh'ning sweet the rose.
But list, the bell so merry goes.
It is our wedding day she set.
Whilst yet a week we can't full date,
Since night that sealed their stern fate,
And waves o'er lives so turbid close.

Thy pressings now I'll not debate,

So weakling child they didst beget,

For 1 am yours for weal and woe. '

Now to the altar let us go,

To take the vow may heaven emboss

With stars of glory as a cross

To guide our faltering footsteps true.

Though ail my faith is pinn'd in you.

And through thee I will mercy sue.

For the manes o| ilmse we loss.

They come ! they come ! I'll stand aside.
Now, Crapaud, watch the queenly bride,
In depth of sorrow weeded black,
Fresh from the scene of awful wreck,
And think of Hellen, Prim describ'd,
When false without the Grecian brib'd,
The mighty goddess of his foe.
Ere yet the wooden horse trod toe
Of 'leaguer'd Trojan in death's throe,
'Twas kingly praise uncircumscrib'd.

IpnHni

i I

THE HOWES O'BUCHAN, AND FAR AWA.

CANTO I.

The ewe buchts tliatcli'd with rashes green

Were ready for the tluck at e'eii,

Who now tlirough virgin snow doth wade,

Before grim Boreas' blasts that raid

The hills of Seotia, drech and wild,

And glens that simper sinnmer mild :

They're past the heather ; march grey stones,

Where Chapman Charlie left his bones,

While Arnage louns they donn'd his pack,

But for this deed was put to rack.

Such were the lawless Robertson race,

Whom on our county brought disgrace

By every deed of crime that's known,

For black's the calendar where it's shown

How many deaths lay at their door.

How many homes they did explore.

But now the sheep's lost in the glen.

Or they must smother in the fen ;

As John, our shepherd's, lost control.

His dogs are worn and home they've stole :

Turn out your horseman, hound and pack,

Do not return till ye bring back

Upon their feet every bleating thing

That's scattered wide or in the ring.

For troth a storm will rage to-night.

All day I watch'd the sun in iight

With fleecy clouds from John-a-Groats,

That rose and fell the ominous blots

Upon a northern sky so blue.

While Boreas sharpened lances threw.

Come, R(MiaId, mount tliy guid grey mare,
And show your lads to hunt tlie hare,
For troth my fortune's now at stake,
And every shower of hail or Hake
Makes my old bones and heart just quake;
For half a thousand sheep or more.
Would keep the paint green on tlie door,
And clothe the country side for years ;
While yet the rent's slight in arrears.
Cut through the dyke close i)y the fold,
Where Drakie's dog lay his foul hold
On six ewe lambs, made braksey mutton ;
Of blood, he drank his fill, the glutton.
Then keep your course by Main's mill race.
With sheep in lots a hundred less ;
Cut out tiie wethers for the lead.
They have by far the higher speed.
And if a ewe or lamb is play'd,
Drop it behind the cavalcade,
When thousand feet the path hath trod,
As smooth as any turnpike road.
But do not lose a single head.
And ye shall drink e'er on thy bed,
A health to every lass ye've kissed,
And every tocher ye hae missed.
Thy pipe yc'll till with Turkish shag,
And toast thy toes by bonnie Magi
For not a house we'll see to-morrow,
As through the biggins we must borrow.
To feed the kinc as best we may,
Aiid waste a sunless holiday.
Farewell, my lads, your bonnets pull
Down o'er your ears, for wild's the blast ;
And rattling showers thy blood will cool,
When ye the bowtree bush hath past.
I'll wait you by the laught park gate.
And pen the sheep though ere so late.

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To see their numbers not reduced.

And have the straw well shook and loose' d.

Wild whistles now the northern winds,

As o'er the knowes the horsemen trot.

The snow is whirling up the linns,

And waes be him the path's forf^ot.

No scampering o'er the open ^lade.

The dogs behind the horseman wade ;

So keen they feel the blast through coat

They're whining sadly at their lot,

With looks twou'd make a hard heart wae.

Didst not we know the work's no play.

When supple limbs must sweat the tongue.

But through the blast their bark it rung ;

The shepherd's dogs are there again,

A gathering stragglers through the glen.

Faith, Mac, this day hath tried thy skill.
If Rosshire moors e'er crossed thy will;
The heati or rank on Dud>\ick's brow
May cause thee now to make a vow,
Her rugg'd st:ppes no more to view,
Nor Lowrie's pure still'd mountain dew
May scent thy whistle's morning air.
If thou hast left the Kessick fare.

MacGregor, true, I see thee yet.
A canny Celt with gifted grit
The air thy earthly interest floats
Ye'll breath far South of John-a-Groats,
Where ocean keeps dry pastures green,
Where fatter flocks may aye be seen.
To-day ye'll show those lads who ploughs
Their skill lies not in gathering yews.
Keep in your mongrel curs, ye gauks.
And stand by yonder stile that looks
Adown the burn where hills will shelter.
And do not drive fell belter skelter.

M! ill

But lead the van with horse abreast,
A:* 1 wade the snow until it's press'd.
For sheep will take the beaten path,
And this will save our ruffled wrath,
As well as gain the laught park dyke,
And save my only friend the tyke.

Oh, John ! thou art a thankless dog, «
Wha's here to help the highland rogue ?
While we might burnish strap and buckle.
And keep our harness bright with muckle
Brushing, in such stormy days.
If pawky shepherds tuned their lays
A something higher than the storm,
And didn't whistle up this quorum.
To settle all his petty troubles,
That floats on air like soapy bubbles.
Pegone, she'll know her pessness petter
Than all the paillies of Glenetter,
She'll know a tog that herd the yews
From mangy cur that park at cows.
Rein up your steeds and face the storm,
Who dare call me a silken worm ?

He for his collies whistled shrill.
Who limp'd with chaflf'd feet o'er the rill,
A whining sore till they were warm ;
And this they were when in a swarm.
They'd (father'd every straggling sheep.
As sharp their barks make fleecy leap;
And should a neighbour's flock been there.
No straggling sheep with their's could pair,
Tho' troth their master couldn't tell
The dogs would drive them back pell mell,
' To flocks respective sure their own.
In fact we've seen a sheep disown
Her sister ewes for cousin new.
And mingle full the half flock through ;

III

i
1,

When human eye with all its ken,
And shepherd lads like Indian men,
Are timely quick with eye and ear
Yet yon (at ewe might end career
In neighbour's flock and lie not know,
Did coUies scent imperfect grow ;
But straight like hawk upon its prey,
The brute sagacious finds his way,
To bring the prodigal back again
Amongst its own and mother's kin.

Now, father, where has Jamie gone ?

Aw?.y to stalk the sheep with John,

And him now clad in summer suit.

And shoe scarce covering half his foot;

The lad his death will get of cold.

Ye must that lazy tailor scold.

He shou'd been here a fortnight mare.

And had the lads in good repair.

For every clout's half off their backs.

Your ane is worse than scarecrow Jack's.

Come ben the house, Jennes made a fire.

'Twould grill the best ox in the byre

Take of? thy boots and warm thy feet.

Think ye the night will turn to sleet ?

Why, Katie dear, the wind blows north.

So Zadkell Almanac lost its worth,

For read it south by east the storm

Will in the German ocean form.

And blow an unabated gale.

Till twice the j?lass hath rose and fell.

Oh what a night our folks will have !

The sun is shaded now by half

Behind i^»roud Hilton's great wind mill.

And canny men with all their skill

Know naught of airt when wind drives full

Of snow, a whirling like some oool

Whose vortex turn the drift about.

To head astream with sahnon trout,

'Twould mar the ken of witch ...id warlock

And troth our men may find on Barloch

A resting place with winding sheet

Of purest snow or silver sleet.

Why, Malcolm, didst our laddie fly

Amongst the moors in full chase cry,

Though he'll come back I sure the !a^>r

To say there's not a Iamb way cast,

To show the hirelings blood must tell

When youth is educated well.

In spirits high no flattering hopes

With contre actions he aye copes.

And does inherit all. I'm sure

My father's patience to endure.

Oh. mother, to thy favourite cling,

He's worthy all the praise that ring

From out a. heart of purest tone

And well he sit affection's throne.

So well he's paid thy tender care

'Twould cow thy neighbour's son to dare

Assume the hero's part in play,

As brave young Jim will do this day.

Though there's a gallant by my side

Who'll add to thine and family pride.

Come, Duncan, lad. what dost thou say ?

We'll search the mill lead to the brae.

And catch a view of Cortes glen

But daren't search the devil's den.

'Twas there where Gordon's horse was lost-

The gallant brute a fortune cost —

While at his side the knight stood fast,

Aye thinking help might soon come past,

And held his head, till naught was seen

But yon white spot between the e'en.

Where is the plaid I brought so far.

When at a fair near Lochnagar ?

i .

• 1

ili

Well muffle up thy tender throat.
And keep the cold outside thy coat,
Whilst, laddie, thou hold fast my hand.
Then witch nor fairy can't demand
Her trysting fee to will-o'-the-wisp.
Whose daft abode no man will risk.
Let night be light, dark, fair or foul,
And him mail clad in friar's cowl ;
Although thy foot with deer could movt
It doth grave prudence still behoove
To keep the path that leads thee home
And ne'er with merry Andrews roam.
Oh my ! father my : it doec bite keen :
I'll pull the bonnet down over my e'en.
And tuck the mitts my mother wove
Far up my sleeve, thus let us rove
The rashen howe the steep hill side
Where many a summer's day with pride
I've climbed to pull the gowans white
Whose cups are scollop'd pink so bright,
And buttercups with clover fine.
Sweet honeysuckle, wild eglantine.
But, father, where's the pale moonbeam
That lights the wanderer like a dream
Through bog, through fen and heather brown.
That sees him safe at our auld town ?
And what a night for Jamie's nag.
If forced amoi.g the bogs he'll sag.

But Jamie knows the runs far better
Than foreman shepherd, hound or setter.
For we have rode and walk'd the path
Far down the burn, den and straith
In search of sloes and wild birds' nests,
And bonnie stones that shine in crests.
We've wade to knees in Peter's pool,
And thought he sat upon a stool

Awaving us that we might drown.
Whilst he in hodden lincey gowu
Might steal our shoes for Sandy Gray,
The lad long trysted syne a day
To sweep his cave and boil his gruel.
And drink the blood (for he is cruel)
Of many a beastie caught and flayed.
Of many a bird with nest full laid.

Hust, laddie, bust, we're near the turn
Where Udney's bonnie bride didst mourM
Her bridegroom's fall, when fox and hound
Had clear'd the dyke and ditch abound,
The gallant brute caught in the whinn,
Or they the brush was sure to win.
And fell the victims to their haste,
Though horse and rider, both the best,
Was somersault'd on a stone.
Then Udney's heir and horse was gone.
The laird he never moved nor spake,
While lifeless lifted in the brake.

Now, Duncan, strain thy keen blue eye
While wind is low and snow don't fly.
That ye may catch the bonnets blue
Of those our sad benighted crew.
Bend thine ear when sough is past,
Thy figure lithe on dry snow cast.
While ye might hear a horseshoe clank
O'er waters frozen in some stank.*
'Tis far thy wisdom's 'yout thine years f
To lose thee now cause daily fears.
For in my bosom full of cares
I hoard thee like a miser's wares.

'*' A creek or stagnant strc.':i

■I

Oil latl'.er, come, naught living moves,

So cold's the night it us behoovc<i

To quickly pass the coupcrs lolU,

A place where goblins ott make bold

Perhaps we'll raise a partrick covey.

Though we have naught to shoot the bevy,

And bring Jennes something for the pot.

But what is yonder dark wee knot

That moves between Ardally's peaks.

And bobs und ducks in .May day freaks ?

I see it now, though eyes are dull.

It iniglit be thctn or Phalaris bull,

Or Centaurs wild from days of old.

As from tlieir caves they canter'd bold.

We'll hail them ere the blast glow furious,

Of what's their progress I am curious.

For lambs I'm sure in scores have smothered,

While stronger ewes with snow are bothered.

Why, here they are clad coated white,

The horses blind. O sic a sight !

How fares your forces, gallant men ?

Are half the sheep lost in the fen ?

Good master, faith this night hath tried
Endurance, patience, ken and pride.
No night since first a penny fee
I earn'd, while scarce reach'd mother's knee,
Hath made me wish I ne'er was bom.
Or sent to march to shepherd's horn.
Scarce had we clear'd the deadman laich.
And cross'd the bluffs of Maiden Straich,
When every sheep, as blind's a bat.
Went here, went there, like some old hat.
Till we had lost the wind's right airt.
Then how each man his ken assert.
While every thud well might we think.
This night we're o'er eternity's brink.

When Jamie keiit to guod und evil
And every neuk where lurks the devil
Sprang to the front, says follow me,
And 1 will lead to laich park lea,
When ye must keep the whinn dyke side,
While hare and deer may past you stride.
And I behind with John keep guard
That no fat ewe take Glowring sward.

Our horses fagg'd and stupid grow.
Won't face the storm while it doth blow,
Nor dare we force those noble brutes
O'er Maiden blufT, as midnight scouts.
Like mufHed drums, we sit and beat.
While Boreas' shot aye sharp we meet.
From Brussels I had rather rode
With comrades gay who bit the sod
The year fifteen, when Nap so bold
Took his last stand, and sullenly sold
His Empire to the fates that morn,
And calmly wade through St. Jean's corn
To meet our duke with Gordon brave,
Who did that day our honour save.

True. Ronald, true, naught stirs thy blood
With snow on mountain, ford and flood.
It takes a steadier head by far
Than kettle drums lead on to war.
We'll now get back o'er dyke and ditch
To meet you ere the moudy witch
Rings curfew bell for bat and owl.
The pilots of such wolves that prowl
Around the buchts for venturous sheep.
That won't behind the netting keep.

Methinks ye'd better stay with us

Than wade the glowring fauld in sluich.

! ii

For we will stem the tide full soon
As storms abate with rising moon,
While jack we'll send on docket mare
To ease their minds as how we fare.
Oh ! Duncan, lad, what brought you here ?
Thy sturdy legs can scarce thee bear.
Come up behind, for Nancy knows
'Tis hard to wade through mountain snows,
And many a piece from thy kind hand
She's eat while ye by her didst stand,
To poke her nose in thy bread pocket,
And long look o'er the gate ye locket.

No, troth, I'll stay by father's side,
Through heather, furse and rushes stride,
Till ye have housed my own pet lamb.
And men and horse is passed the dam.
Let's bend our steps, oh father dear.
To clear the quarry's steepest brae,
For none dare say there fag or fear,
In favourite son of Malcolm Rae.
Through home of moorcock, cold and wild,
Through partrick ridges, tame and mild,
We'll whistle bold to dare the child
Of black art foul and grim.
*Tis said at night he'll cunning skim
To work his spell on man and beast
That can't some running water breast.
What's yonder light deep in the glen
That waves us back a signal flew ?
If it flash in the eye of our horsemen,
They may fly to the help of a shrew.
That's will-o'-the-wisp, the devil's limb
Leads many a foolish man to climb
The swallow braes to test his farin.
While home he sends them raging, swarin.
For ne'er a rood ye'll nearer get
The varlets biggin yard nor gate,

Than stand we now by wind fauld dyke,
Nor him with stone or stick canst strike.
He burns in stick of burnished gold,
A rush wick dipped in the nether hold.
Where burning lakes of sulphur spring,
And divils stithy metal ring.
Methinks, dear father, 1 might catch
This trickster of the midnight watch,
When snow hath gone and fields are black.
Will ye with me some night come back,
And I will chase him where the cows
Foregather on the sandy knowes,
To sleep and lazy chew the cud,
And keep their hides fu clean of mud

Oh Duncan, look ! there is a light
Where welcome sure we'll be to-night ;
Oh yes, it is the ben house lamp.
When we have cross'd Kentory's swamp,
We'll see the figures come and go ;
We'll see your mother's shadow throw
A darkness on the window pane,
While she the weather eager scan,
And pray that Jove his sceptre wield
O'er hill and dale, moss and field,
To guard the winds and Boreas' wrath.
And stay the storm in glade and straith.
But Melton's stubble bends its head.
And up the glen the furies thread ;
From hence the shelter's in our feet
And every blast our face will meet,
Till leeth we reach of corn stacks,
Where honest Jim his kind jokes cracks

But. think ye. Ronald was fu kind

To press his seat on me ?
I must some squeaking rosin find

To make his bow speak free.

His tiddlu is his greatest care,
When lie has dress'd his Nancy mare.
But, father, Jack plays aye so sweet,
1 hku his tunes, the measure meet,
And high and luw, as if he spoke
With his long bow quirk and stroke.
And laughs anJ chats so wantonly.
That oft 1 think he has forgot
That folks he stirs so dauntonly
Would part with him their coat.
Now, my laddie, n>ark ye this,
That who the fiddle oft caress
Will lose the pith his arm reciuire ;
And full the glow of natural fire
Blaze wild round his fickle head,
Whilst hands to plough unnatural bred
Grow careless of his daily charge.
He's paid to tend and to enlarge.

Oh! ior the riggs of the fallow lea.

We'll trip them light and cheerily ;
We'll sail them o'er like a ship at sea.

Then dance o'er the hearth fu merrily.

Who sings this song, my brave son ?
Oh that bright lass, Kirsty Davidson.
With a heart so warm and a hand so free,
That troth I'm fain to double her fee.
She saved thee once when I had beat
Thee for a sin I now forget.
Beyont the coach house in the lane.
She hid the rogue from sire and dam.
Then thought she heard the waters splash,
And saw the dam's rippling wash
Beat strong around the sluice and lead
And lapping if as ye from dread
Took refuge there from all so dear,
And forced thy mother's bitter tear.

Whilst tlu( ks that nestled un tlie banks
Took watt'- at your skurring pranks,
And set the dam in slight eoniniotion
In fancy raising (howning notion.
But when she brought thee, safe and well,
Our boy though bad none dare pommel,
And ye went Sent free witii thy hiss ;
Now c»)me wiiat may it is aye let pass.
But now ye're wearied with this tramp.
And wish on snow ye'd ne'er put stamp.
Didst thou feel the savoury smell ?
The pot is boiling, stirr'd by Nell.
I'll leave thee at the kitchen door,
Before the ewe buchts T explore.

Oh father, no. I am just as bright
As when the sun left us this night.
Ere he had drawn his mantle close.
And dimm'd a star in Southern Cross.
But was it not a cowardly flight
To leave us all in such a plight.
When we'd blessed him morn ;ind noon
And waited harvest for the moon.
His wife to ripen blasted corn.
Whilst all the rest had long been shorn.
But. father, well might I have told
A storm would rage o'er house and fold,
The white sea maws were flying thick.
They daftly scoop'd to morsel pick.
And they were gorging on the best.
As wind and wave might hunger test.
Whilst high in cyry, hatching home.
They'll nestle far from billows' foatn.

We'll whistle for the ora men
To shovel snow from out the pen.
Oh f troth, they wait as far and near
Your mother's kindly heart doth wear

p '

»<{

With anxious thought expectant care,
And keeps the lads run liere and there.
(Jh, laduic, dear, go to the house,
I'd rather round my neck a noose
Than ye should chill thy blood so true,
A standing where the snow like dew
Falls fast and thick, a whirling round,
Till we're like post drove in the ground.
Father, to the end 1 will see this ;
I wouldn't tor the l)est suit miss,
Though it were velvet plush good blue,
And gold gilt buttons in sporting view.
See Jamie bring a Iamb or two,
Upon Dick's back his saddle new
May loose its glossy, crispy sound,
And look like Swany brown deer hound
Oh. here's the horseman ! father, look !
Jack capers as if he'd mov'd the rook.
But knows full well the last stage won,
And labours, for the night is done.
Oh, Duncan, true 1 didst forget ;
Stand with thy keen eye by the gate
And tell the numerous heads in gross,
That will this night our clean straw toss.
Call out your score to baillie Jim.
And then we'll tell if flock is slim ;
How many's smothered in the snow,
How many's wandered far below
The Maiden's path, the whinn dyke side —
My Southdown flock, the shepherd's pride.
I well may think there's fifty lost —
A quarter's rent this night will cost.

i m

Tarn, close the doors, our buchts to free.
And we'll count up to hun'reds three ;
So gently cut the flock in two.
That we may miss not lamb or ewe,

For I must know, or not sleep sound,

If all the wandering waifs are found.

Where's John ? at this he's worth us all ;

But he'll be here for final call.

Yet move they do so slow and sure,

That one might be quite immature

In arithmetic, man or boy.

The speed no childish brain would cloy.

Oh ! here's our shepherd, hale and hearty.

Welcome, John, with all your party.

Think ye there's many left behind ?

In such a storm we'll never find.

She's never known, good master Malcolnv
The wind so high from Ord to Balcolm,
And she has trod the highlands high,
And she has watch'd the evening sky.
And seen Aurora, fresh and sweet,
Peep o'er the hills to wake peewit,
And every change my eye could tell
Till Phoebus rose o'er Cortes kiln.
This morning, ere my watch so true
Point nine or twenty minutes to,
So cheerfully he look'd and strode.
She said to-night remains green sod.
But soon she'll tell how matters stand.
If some plithe lad will lend a hand
To keep them close my worn eye.
While soon around they'll scattered lie.
She knows herself these forty years,
But storms till now was in arrears.
This night hath paid kind nature back
For leaving rope to Boreas slack.
But petter ye stand nearer Shim.
They'll trot past us on worn limb.

100

Ah, here is Shimmie troth I'll tell,
But he's been wurth a hundred bell
Wethers to our tlock this night,
And to my e'en a second sight.

Well, Duncan, lad, ye lagger'd loun,

That pick the straws around the town,

If ye had been where I hae been,

No fairy spell were felt or seen,

No sound was heard but whistling winds,

No mortal seen but snow-clad hinds.

Oh, father, sure there's not a trotter

But a ewe we near forgot her

On Dudwick's bleak hills far and near,

And her I led up stream so clear

To corrie head, where heather tall

Will warm her mutton though e'er so caul.

I've three ewe lambs to holster strapped,

Had I a coat to share I'd wrapped

It round their trembling limbs so cold.

Though mother would me surely scold.

Oh Dick, my lad. your legs are wire.

But take those lambs and we'll retire.

The score stand twenty-five and five,

John taillie thus dead or alive.

They're here to one. head and tail,
For her good faith I would gone pail
Had not the tivels lost the path.
As wc left Glenoro ponnie straith.

I :«

Now, blow ye winds aft Fortric's brows,
Sweep Milton's glades and Bornie's howes.
When pawky sheep and Buchan cows
Are warm in good clean straw.
When kitchen steams with Athnl hrose.
And lassie tend fu braw.

101

CANTO ir.

The hearth stones warm as ony kiln
That drys the meal at Norrie's mill ,
With Elrick peat as black as coal
Had been in stack since Nancy foal
Was ween'd, and seut to find its f' jd
In moss green haugh with James' steed.
The glow white, yellow, blue and red
Like sea coal jets of gas that's fed
By puffs, and bow from lava black,
That running blaze like molten slack.
The chimney good was two ell wide,
Where circle round from side to side
The ploughman lads with long clay pipes.
Of swineyard stamp in different types ;
Swung on crook, hung Jennes' pot
Brim full to wash off speck and spot
From dish and spoon that supper served
To hungry horseman, hind and herd.

Some dress and scurry o'er the burn

To meet their lassies fair.
While others take their double turn,

And straighten the horse's hair.

The Buchan broad vernacular passes.
While they are term'J pedantic asses
Who dare with English fine address
The native born broad sonsy face.
And few may know the dialect strong
Who never lived those folks among.
And yet a word may sly slip in
My homely verse, and make you skim
The pages through for double meaning.
While troth I am fain to single seeming
And English good 'tis all my care.
To write it well I'm near despair ;

i!!;

102

Though Addison, Blair, Burke, Beattie, Bro>wn,

Fox, Bolingbroke, Swift, men of renown,

In writing pure, neat, plain, concise

I've studied to turn my period nice.

But few are favour'd with this gift.

I am twenty years at verse, and shift

My style to suit my humour wild,

Which must be guided like a child ;

Or we have naught to show when night

Ends labour's hours, alas ! a blight.

So now this night we must record

In language fair and classics hoard

For higher themes than farm firesides ;

Though many a man so highly prides.

He spent his early days and years

With ploughman lad?, bis fflgs and peers.

To-night the thenip are firm and high,

Of deeds long past of sea and sky,

For many a man in youth had been

A season more or less I ween

At Peterhead the Hrough or Buckie

Fishing herrings, some unlucky,

And some far Cireenland shore had seen.

While fishing whale round icebergs green.

And now and then a grizzly bear

Might from their backs their jerkins tear;

And if they killed a while coat pure,

Some old dog hood might not endure

The Zetland men to rob their nest,

And not attempt the prey to wrest.

But if the mother chanc'd came home,

They'd better empty handed roam

And let the fond seal suckle harp

While they with flag the hummock mark,

And catch the pelts of some dog hood ,

And roast the flippers for rich food ;

103

While othets saw the glaciers slide

OflF Greenland peaks far in the tide.

To raise a wave might swamp a ship

Five miles at sea by rock and dip.

Few saw the dusky Esquimaux

In sealskin suit untann'd and raw,

But found them good, humane and true.

Their Arctic skins they'd sell to you

For 'bacco black, molasses sour,

And bannocks baked of Yankee flour.

One served his time before the mast,

Had been amoni; the Maories cast

On Savage Island, far south the Horn,

Where eve is turn'd to smiling morn,

And Christmas spent in summer heat

While fruit from laden trees ye eat.

But all declared no wind nor weather

Didst ere from pole to pole foregather

In such a storm as blew and whirled,

And round the steading white wreaths curled.

Each felt he'd play'd a hero's part,

And let his neighbour try his art

At kindly praise of horse and man,

While only John was under ban.

Macgregor knew his ken at fault,

But stood the banter's light assault

With English terse, though not quite pure,

His Gaelic learned on highland moor.

His mother's tongue would sure break through

Ivike mountain heather dipped in dew

Upon some fallow rigs of lea

Where ye don't want or wish to see.

He missed aurora's beam so fair,

So like his sister's golden hair

That streams far past her slender waist ;

While Phcebus still behind the crest

104

Of Cortes dark brown heather hill
Kept her there to court his fill,
And never let her glories shine
Upon this weather face of mine
This morn, when I spread out my flock
Ere eight had struck on either clock.

Guid faith, McGregor, shrewd and canny.

There's jealous eyes around when Annie

Cortes lass ye coldly jilted,

Declared at nine the bed she quilted.

Held thy form tough skin and hone.

Whilst sun .<«hone on the dial stone.

And marked the longest hour but two

Kre ye the deadman's laught went through

And roused the snipe among the rushes.

Who pass the house for lake that washes

The old man's marsh Ardally hiil.

The tryst of every beck and bill.

Your sheep close penn'd within the fold

Untrod the lea when sun light gold

A third the welkin had strode through.

And long had drunk the morning dew.

This, Ronald, I will tell to you,
She hates that quean auld Cortes shrew.
She made her prose without the salt,
And pulled the tail off Jamie's shalt-
She stole the pones from my poor tog,
She'd lie and cheat like Hercules' hog.
Now, Ronald, sure's I'm highland man,
She's seen thee stand an hour, and fan
Thy ugly face when turning plough
A north to south whilst some auld ewe
Might croped from off your coulter grass.
Whilst ye chew'd cud like any ass.

105

Qch but here's great Master Alalcolm
With pottle big as paillie round,

When Inverness her Provost welcome,
The Lords of Session circuit bound.

In troth methinks this highland devil,
Aye so canny, shrewd and civil.
Didst with Jove the great foregather
And plot this squall to leave the heather,
Flocks and all to trick poor Annie,
Who's broke the heart of her auld mammie
And says she'll follow John to Skie,
And leave her father herd the kye.

But to ourselves, proud mea this night,

A health we'll drink full hearty,
Whilst wind and snow again we'll fight

Or Irish at Cloncarly.
Had ye to scale far Alma's height
To Russians face in terrible tight,
Or in brigade of horseman light

Ye'd rode to death or victory.
No braver men with broad claymore
Pass'd close Byzautmm's golden shore
Than Ronald led back to our door.

Whether Whig or highback Tory.

But for the lassies' welcome faces.
All our valour would be lost ;

Without their gentle, kind caresF,
Victories would have little cost.

Pass it round and drink your fill.

If labour's lost 'twill cause no ill.

To-morrow Aurora nor her consort

In revels wild their rights assert ;

'Tis Boreas and his ice-clad crew

Will hold strong the fort and storm brew.

106

Well, Jack, ihy voice rings loud and clear,
It full with winds contend my ear.
When ye the depth of snow didst tell
While riding round the sportsman's well,
Where Gillie blithe in leggings tight
Drank his last draught Hen Nevis wight.
The chase had caused a heat and thirst
That fain he'd try the water first,
Whither high or low, still or flowing,
And whilst his blood with heat was glowing.
Some rnulden stoppage of the heart
Made him with natural grass to part ;
When down he slade deep in the mud,
To cool his brow poor Beamish Judd.
The fatal grip was in the well
And none to swing oblivion's bell,
For naiv'ht was known till morning light
Recalled the sad, the mournful sight-
Come, Ronald, Jack, there's cjuite a quorum
Will none play up auld Tiliiegorum,
That tune good Skinner didst indite
In Ruchau fair, in Ivlloa bright,
Whilst guest in Manse on Ythan's bank
He caught the muse on some high prank
While Burns "tis said was searching for hiui
Far o'er the hills of Caiugorum.

Back stand the lassies sweet, abashed,
Their gimpet feet in sandals lashed.
Their floor as smooth as dial stone
That tells the hour the sun shone on.
1 hear not Kirsty's merry laugh.
Where is the lass from fair LoantafF?
She does the children soothe asleep.
i'lOod maid, she dare not hear them weep.
Or she would little pleasure reap

' 107

From all the music fiddles give,
Nor share the virtue dancing wake
Her soul it charms the weak to live,
And feed the wandering gipsy rake.
I will the mother take her place,
That song to sing of love's wild race,
When maiden fair a ploughman woo.
But harshly told it will not do.
Full bumpers drink and listen keen,
While from the ben I bring your queen.

Come, Kirsty, come, thy songs are rusting.
What sorry room ye're now a dusting ?
Sir. I am not the kitchen folks a jewing,
I am for Duncan something doing.
His vest so thin, he might congest
Those tender lungs, then he must rest ;
Some flannel new I am quilting in
To let him wild with other.-, run.
Were he thine own, <lear, sweet lass,
No care could ever thine surpass,
And if his years were doubled eight
r%-e little doubt but ye would wait,
And change youi name for good or ill,
And make thy home near our bleak hill.

Oh, Kirsty. go make kitchen ring,
And something livel)- to them sing
That charm the sting out whisky drams,
Then troth they'll promise half the lambs
When ye have touched the tender part,
For well ye know the vocal art
Can wake the passion hide in breast
That never knew an hour's unrest.
But, Kirsty, hear a wife's advice,
C»et him who never hath smiled twice.
With bated breath and blushing face,
They're tenty dogs the human race.

t ifl

108

To every maid the smiles renewed ;
If quick returned she, quick eschewe(^.

Oh, mother dear, what dare ye say ?

I am sure ye never rued the day

Thy father parted with my bride

At fair Bonnal on I<<brie side-

But come, we waste the night in gib?,

There's nothing gain'd by poking ribs.

Ivist ! sweet the strains of music flow.

The touch is Keith's ; come, let us go.

And what's the tune? March, Cameron men.

Oh his clever ear, tongue and ken.

Yet we must praise deal out in pinches'.

Or fiddles, balls and far off wenches

Would leave the horse to tend themselves,

Whilst furrows bend like great bow bells.

Their feet to double time doth beat,
The night is such that it is meet
They should a day of toil forget
In joy where virtue wears rosette
On every bosom blithe and gay.
Where every laugh's a bright sun ray.
Go, lassie, go, ye lose much fun,
The reels, strathspeys are well begun.
The lads are calling for their lasp,
And as ye pass peep in the glass,
Then flout the face who dare look thine
To say it is not featured fine,
And worthy of some farmer rich
Who would his queen hang in niche .
A portrait rare in •• beaming beauty "
With heart so true to wifely duty.
Blush, blush, alas ! thy heart is gone,
'Twill be ground with dry mill stone.
Thou luckless maid, hadst I but known.
He'd near bound a sheaf, nor blown

109

False hopes around tby tender heart
Oh, Katy, act the mother's part,
And whisper higher hopes than his
Close to her ear and mention Lees.
A rogue he is, his pedigree
Darks fair heaven from sea to sea.
Be all the grace at thy command,
And powers above may understand
A maid, to show her step is false,
For death is in his beating pulse-

Methinks, guidman, ye slyly show
Deep sentiments in heat and glow ;
Since success with thy quarter'd flocks
While feeling hospitable with Glenknox,
Thy favorite blend of mountain dew,
Go trip a measure quick and true,
And cheer the lads so blithe and gay,
To make them quite forget the day ;
A just reward hard labour done,
A fee for what is not begun.

" Up the back and down the middle.
Why, don't you understand the fiddle " ?
You're stiff, guidman, as Balaam's ass ;
Come, give's your hand and let us pass.
The time is quick but usquebaugh
Puts in his elbow double thraw j
The rosin is too lightly laid
And through the string must near be played.

Well, Jennes, thy foot is with thy heart,
Thou well canst show thy dancing art.
A reel with thee tries ankle bones
When one on scales turns fourteen stones.
How stands the cellar with last brew ?
Didst malt the barm take like dew ?
Give us a drink, I'm sure it's good,
While Kirsty gains the singing mood.

it ;

'', I

110

Kirsty's Song.

The crows caw'd loud in eyry high,

The clouds black raced through nether sky;

There was no blink of moon nor star,

No rider's eye could reach so far

As ear of steed to take the bearing,

To show him how the brute was steering.

While muffled stood a figure fair

Below the chestnut tree,
The hour of night was past repair,

And twelve strokes dropped to threet

Down the glade a horseman came,

In Buchan wide no farmer's fame

Rang higher than the ploughman knight

Who was to fly with her to night —

A maid betroth'd to king's lieutenant,

Whose castle flew the royal pennant.

He bent him down on saddle bow
To lift her o'er the crupper ;

Now come, my lasF, through a' Olenlow
No steed will match this trooper.

Swift Kbrie's banks will fill fu high
As half the clouds fell from the sky,
Since night her mantle dropp'd on us.
Whose every minute bore a curse,
As from thy father's lips it sang
And ominous in my ears it rang.

Like war horse seething foam

The Ythan's raging wild,
But Forvie's sands must be our home,

Or father claims his child.

111

Oh heavens, forbid ! Dear Archie, fly,
I'd rather Tar iu deep sea lie,
Or Loggie's boatman saw nie float
Down by Machoy's sage grass plot.
But we will gain the further shore
And never roam through Udney more.

Oh ! lassie dear, thy Irish mare
Hast drank the tide too deep;

Now fisher lads will steal her hair.
And make thy father weep.

Thy ale is faultless, brisk and frisk.
Jennes, here's thy health, and ye might risk
Another grey beard, for our coggies
Shew their keels fu' dry, the rogues.
Oh ! Donald, all the ale I've brewed.
And all the harvest riggs I've strewed
With farin good, ne'er man I knew
Would eat and drink to equal you.
Spread feast on feast, fill bumper, bumper,
You're first and last to leave thetencher.

Faith, 'tis a hero's trait, good Jeune.c,
Whilst Ossian say •* 'tis he who wins
In hall of shell at drinking bout
That will the enemy charge and rout."
Hence Donald proud may count himself
With Fingal's hero's stroke and pelf.
Jennes, our master knows good (lualities,
'Tis why he's got us marked realities.
While he that slack at cog and spoon
Might well be plowing on the moon.
Where are ourheroe*, young and bold ?
They're worth their weight in -Fiico' gold.

Masters James and Duncan votaries were
To Morpheus long ere the fiddles spoke,
And didst from us all sleep revoke ;
But we must follow uif, nor longer dare

■I

112

Fight the gods who doth oux nimbleness repair,
A ad cleanse that maze in our dull head
Whose gathering grow rank like flowers decayed,
For Morpheus a gardener is of nature's choice,
Who weeds the rotting foliage of Lotus vice.

And now to all a kind good-night,

While in the Almighty's care I leave you.
Long will I cherish a scene so bright
That glowed with virtue's glee so light,
And leaves my debts still to you due.

CANTO IIL*

On Fair Ardall^f's flint-white brow
He gazed, and saw the fisher scow
Skip the waves of Cxcrmau Ocean,
While the sun light up the motion
Like a crown of diamonds rare
On Neptune's head of silvery hair,
All glowing, glistening in commotion ;
And there between in valleys green
The lazy, browsing flocks are seen.
While castled steppes frown o'er the burn,
Where many a heart forsaken mourn,
Where many a lad looks at his watch
To doubt if time and wishes match.
Though sure and steady chromos swing,
This child of fancy darts on wing
Past father Time, swift and saucy.
To knock at six like errant lassie.

Now for a good full hour and half

He must keep toe, heel and staff,

Alternate on the beaten track

Ere at Auchluchrie's he doth crack.

Yet this is naught o'er moss and moor,

Where highland welcome waits him sure ;

# There is an intervening space often years between Cantos II and ID.

113

Far at his journay's end he'll find
A household young and old so kind.
Now to the east see turrets high,
A fringe-like border to the sky.
Where waves the base has ages laved,
While sands are now with debris paved.
And solid once foundation stood
Upon the walls of nature crude,
But raging waves hath forced their way
Some fathoms 'neath the mould'd clay.

'Tis Slaius that grim old Bastle,
The Earl of Errol's reuown'd old castle
Hangs o'er the clifts of ocean bold,
Where robber swung in days of old.
Our Queen with him is family tied.
Her wedding prov'd his family pride.
His horses shod with shoes of gold
So ilightly nail'd, we been told,
Thai; they might drop from off the feet
Of horses cantering through the street,
While he that gathered for good luck
Thought some mad man ran a muck.

But here's the marsh plantation belt
That might keep lyowlander from Celt,
A covert for the timourous hare,
A roost for every bird that pair.
'Tis where Auchluchrie's rights begin
And Dudwick's end, alas ! a sin.
As hill and dale alternate grace
The landscape of sweet nature's face,
As laws of gravity marked intense
Enrich the valley at the expense
Of hill and knoll when weather beat ;
Their coats of moidd down to their feet.
Whence now Auchluchrie's heavy lauds
Mixed black loam and clayey sands.

114

He might have rode the dapple grey,
Harl not that cob the other day
Drawn someone o'er the Mormon hills,
And down past Mintlaw's carding mills ;
But he was light of foot as deer,
And blithe of soul, and felt career
Was bright as morning sun.
In height a medium well-knit frame ;
Though slender cast, had gaind much fame
In highland games, the country's sport
When annual meet to Gight resort,
When sinews tried in race and chase
Will keen compete for prize or place.

Where hammer flies the air as kite,
And caber toss'd with I)inuie"s might,
Who could the globe like atlas bear,
Our highland god so debonair,
The pride, the model of our youth,
Auld Scotland's chief athlete forsooth.
At hammer, stone, at caber pole.
At race, at weight, at jumping toll,
No favour'd mortal in our day
Could gain a place in our dry lay
With yon oak of Deeside garden.
With the son of fair Kincardine.

But oh, we've left j-oung Cupid's trade
To hunt with Hercules hill and glade.
Aoain we'll j >in the cherub fair.
Consign ourselves to Mercury's care
Till we dream on Orpheus' bed.
Till we view Auchorney's woods,
Where the nightingale in broods
Charms the lassies of the glen
With such songs I dare not pen,
Too sweet ")r ear's untutored bar
Mystic harmony strains afar

115

Floating o'er the evening air,
While the zephyrs twang the lyre.
While the kye in single file
Homeward tread the beaten soil
To the milkmaid creamy lailen,
To their stalls to be fed in.

But here's the smithy brightly glowing,
The bellows groaning, Stauky blowing.
A traveller's steed in evanin j; dew
Luckless tripp'd and lost a shoe,
Or by this time the smith had been
A sporting on the village green
With miller's Jean or joiner's Bess,
The local belles and nothing less.
By Vulcan's tongs, there's Duncan Rae.
What booby drove this horse astray

To cast a shoe so near the stithy,

Or faith we'd try this gallant's pithj-.
Ah : welcome lad, far o'er the hills,

I need not ask of any ills

That dare befall thee, Duncan blithe.

How's thy kith in health and tithe ?

They're brawly, thanks to nature's bou'ity;

Thyself shares her grace, don't ye ?

And all that fortune can affjrd

Is at thy feet in golden horde.

Good faith there i, of work in plenty.
But, woes me, goud is unco scanty.
Just wait until this naig I shoe,
Then we will try the October brew.
Troth, now the lads foregather thick,
They know thy skill at sledge and stick.
Now for a throw before we pree
Auld Nancy's home brewed malted hree.
Ye're shy, I know, but do not bUisli,
A friendly contest will not crush

110

Thy well boil'd shirt so neat and clean
And early rise the shearer's uieen,
For well I know some eyes doth watch
Thy bonnet blue its crest to catch.

Some great athletes are gather'd here.
To match me it might cost thee dear,
For well thou knowest my arm is slight
To oft be beat at throwing the quoit.

Now, Duncan, see yon birkie stout,
With curly hair and saucy pout ?
He's beat us a' and crows so loud
That deil a chap, though e'er so proud,
Will hammer lift while he is here ;
He's master, too, of " flout and sneer."
What be his distance at the best ?
Good Vulcan, we might turn the jest.

'Tis seventy-five and five he's done
And many a gallon of whisky won,
While handicapp'd and single throw
He's Benj Brag of Linabow.

Oh ! Brooky, what ! thy pennies risk
Upon this strippling'sarm and whisk.
Thou cautious cove at Kirk and fair.
In fact, thy neighbours all declare
That sillers frae thy hand ne'er slip
For ale, nor in the ladle dip.

'Tis many a sox for thee I've sharped,
'Tis many a horse shoe I've warped
In lucky Flintstone wee tap room.
Where aye the croupier ye assume.
'Tis oft my health ye drunk so free
Though score ne'er waste thy penny fee
Thou earned for labour slackly done,
Or didst at loo unfairly won.

117

Thou hast thy thumbs run iu our sides,
Ye cut and lower'd our pawky prides,
But should this lad thy laurels crop,
Thou hadst with Agie better stop.

A truce ! put up thy silver crown,
And thou shalt wash thy throttle down ;
When with this youngster I am through
Ye'll ne'er again say I'm a Jew,
For through this country t4ou hast run
For some unknown to squeeze and win
A crown frae me to village treat,
But oft the shearer's first to bleat.
Whom hath the preference first or last
Your hammer, blacksmith, far to cast.
Methinks one throw will full decide.
And check the flow of new fledged pride
That raised thy bonnet to the moon
With faith ye pin in this young loun.

Throw, thou garrulous clump of clay.
Thou sure shall sleepless meet the day.
Thy laurels green will weather brown
Ere morning dew refresh thy crown.
The toss ye've lost, so shew thy mettle,
Or home ye go to scour the kettle.
While Agie holds the drill and plough,
She'll drive thee out to milk the cow.
Once, twice, well done, big Liuabow.
Blinky, how far's that handsome throw ?
This is my own, my only page,
And proud he is to bring the sledge.

Oh ! master, seventy-five and six.
And filly like the hammer kicks.
For bound it did two feet or more
Ay out the mark the measured score.

lis

■

Oh itrotb, good smilb, thy stake \is goue,
'Tw e e better thou hadst never known
My pastimes spent at this fine sport,
For ye must now on me retort.
But I thy friend will share thy woe
If past this mark I cannot throw.
Oh I smile, thou rogue, at my distress.
Now, lads, each move with eye keen trace.

One throw will show more ease and cunning
And how such brute force has been winning.
Whiz I She goes as light's my mallet.
And tops the mark, or score, ye call it-
Where. Blinky, where "s thy measure, man ?
Canst not thine eyes the figures scan ?
Yes, master, seventy-five and three.
I may uncork the malted bree,
For Beiij won't fill up the stoups,
As troth he'll think we are now his doups.

That hammer I shall never touch
Though ye conjure the moudy witch
To charm thy hero in this hour,
To save thy stake whilst ye cower.

Hush, thou born braggart, blush,
This time thy laurels fine he'll crush.
A prouder hour in all my life
Will only be when Bess "s ray wife.
Come, Duncan, doff thy bonnet blue.
And let her fly the air far through.
Then round and round he gently turned
The hammer while his|audience burned.
Six feet from toe mark back he stood.
And smiled though neither prig nor prude,
When round his head the hammer flew,
Once, twice, then round his body threw.
i'be metal shot like hawk through air.
And fell ten fc "t, I do declare,

11;>

Beyond the local Ajax throw,
Who looked and felt the fatal blow.
The measure showed ten feet and half
While Benj stood the fatted calf.
Now all had watch'd the stranger's ease,
Who looked as if he'd rather please
Than gain a victory for applause,
And soil the grace of honour's laws,
But said, if I canst leave thee aught.
My highest pleasure's to have taught.
If thou hast caught the Dinnie Swing
This scene will through the country ring
My whistle, smith, I dare not wet,
For see the hour is growing late.
Oh come, man, Nancy will be hurt
Were ye to pass and slight her wort.

Luck might desert my noble friend.
Then deil knows how the journey end.
Oh ! there's some laggards to the scene,
And one, a lass, would gee her e'en
As black as coals to see thy skill,
She's daughter dear to Farrowhill ,
Oh ! Duncan, for the lassie's sake.
Thy skill and reputation stake
Far renowned's thy gallant deeds
Among the sex who ne'er in weeds
Allows the memory to be choked
Of him who has their praise evoked.
One throw the best thy arm can swing.
Back stand ye all and form a ring.

He scann'd the faces, pleading hard ;
He met the eyes— 'twould wake a bard ;
Then doflfed the cloth his mother wove.
And through the air the metal drove,
A hundred feet and ten 'lis said,
Far o'er the ditch that drains the glade,
And fell among the cabbage drills
That border round the auld time kilns.

120

Then bowed so graceful to||the belles,
Who blushed and to their gossip tells,
I would my heart give to the lad,
Though it might drive my cousins mad,
Whom selfish are to gain such power
And draw him far to fairy bower.
I will to fair Auchluchrie's walk,
With stealth thelass'es' game I'll baulk.

Now, Duncan, ye will drink my health.

And all my cronies luck to wealth.

I'll yoke the roan mare in the gig

And drive thee past the turnpike brig,

Where thou canst choose the clover fields,

Whose soil a crop so heavy yields.

Ah ! thou art by far too kind,

I am thy debtor, troth, to find

Thy friends so blithe, Nance ale so good,

It must have been twelve months in wood.

Such errands, lad, I have been on,
And wouldst thou rather be alone
Than mix with strangers, gay or sober,
And drink our ale May or October ?
Yet, true, thou art eudow'd with power.
Beneficence from thy soul to shower.
For in thy presence I have felt
All envy, anger, spleen to melt.
And like a sun bright in the fields.
Drying vapour from the harvest yields.
Warm those around in winter snows
Who share thy spirit morning throes
Spread like a cloud in summer drought,
Like zephyr winds from balmy south.
In fact, no evil dare take root,
Though heart wast steep'd in grimest soot.
While rings that hearty laugh so free
To maid or man where Duncan be.

121

Come, Stanky, niau, thou shame me quite.

I'm neither saint, nor half so white

As thy kind heart would paint me thick ,

Nor emblem am of golden brick.

I'm so plain my father's sou,

And wish his deeds I could outrun

To spread the halo of his name

Another ring immortal fame.

Well said, my lad, what would I give.

Or those with whom to-night thou'lt live,

For one press gentle of his hand,

Before his hour glass ran its sand.

Ah ! here's my footman, let us go,

Whose livery's black from head to toe,

Hangs undescrib'd as does my arms.

But now, when war sounds dread alarmf.

It might be well to choose a coat,

Then from Burke's peerage we might quote.

Come, joiner, try thy hand tomorrow ;
Don't be squeamish if thou borrow
A figure from the weaver's crest,
Or colours from the Robin's breast,
An argent blazon'd in field d'or
No Cromgow higher honours bore.
Who doubts this lineage, Duncan, say,
Wilt thou be seconds in the fray ?
Bat come, the sun hath long goce down,
My cronies deem me but a clown
Till my arm at forge or wheel
Cast them sideways into the creel.

Adieu, my friends, when we meet
Again I hope ye 're train' d to beat
Thy humble servant at his game,
Twill be a step to higher fame.

122

11 t:i

If thou catisl keen compete for place.
I'll claim some credit for our race.
I'll claim a corner in your heart,
Now for the nonce we all must part.

Hast thou view'd a scene so calm
When from the fields a fragrant balm
Float on the air with evening dew,
To human jiassions gross subdue.
What joy, what peace, we all have felt
When lonely songster song didst melt
The bitter drop of noonday care,
The last decay of labours share ;
When sun would tip the hills in gold,
When mist would rise from rivers cold,
When cattle eager on the lea
Was freed of heat and mid day Ilea.

Some peewit's brood would scatter far.

Her mournful calls awake the var.

Oh, scenes of youth, what wild romance.

What favours, did we yield to chance ?

No sordid thoiights cloy'd fancy's breath,

No dark remorse lower'd o'er like death ;

No heart's blood stain'd our snow-white brow,

Nor pensive maid nursed broken vow.

The stars were welcome as the sun,

For light's our care when night's begun.

What strength within our bosoms bore ?

'Twas truth and honour to the core.

Our world we eyed like apple ripe.

We viewed all men the hero type.

And round them wove a bright halo,

Such chevaliers that gauntlet throw.

On prancing steeds with lance and buckler,

Whilst target made of shuffling truckler.

But here's the turnpike dusty white,

And all before is prospect bright.

12:j

Ob, see you lonely star, my friend,

And see yon figure o'er it bend ?

In 3'onder form dwells a soul

That radiates clear from pole to pole ;

Of true magnetic strength is it

That thou must oft so near it Hit.

Ah, Smith, canst thou real my thoughts?

Is that a flock of sheep or goats

The merchant's rearing in his garden ?

I've chang'd the subject, beg your pardon!

And now. thou king of men, adieu,

Thou bath debts heaped far o'erdue

Upon my head for future pay,

God spare me till the reckoning day.

Upon the high whinn dyke he stood,

And in that fine chivalrous moo<i

Waved his hand high in mid air,

Then bound'd ditch and brier clear.

Whistling like a morning lark,

He l)ent his footsteps through the park,

Sketching pictures as he went

In his mind of faces bent

Upon the evening hymn or song

'Twas sung long, long ago among

Old Bethlehem hills or Jordan plains

Of him in New Jerusalem reigns.

Such thought with night. So fine were meet,

All heaven was open, the muse's seat

Was filled by Orpheus at the lyre,

While round him tripp'd the immortal choir.

Carolling sweet harmonious strains,

Dress'd in snow-white rich delains.

Satin slipped ; semi in blue,

To match the firmament in view ;

Some tinseled like the star above,

And fitting like a maiden's glove.

124

vSuch happy thoughts filled his mind,

While virtue's sword flashed bright behind,

He tripped upon a sunkeu harrow,

Or on the wheel of some old barrow,

Which proved too well he was of earth,

And not of aerial two-wing'd birth.

Then this advantage pleasure gave,

l*or he'll no more of angels rave,

As fingers tapering neat will press,

And gently round his hand caress.

'Twere eyes he'll then behold so bright,

They were not dark, they were not light,

A brown of soft and mellow hue.

And moistened wet with silvery dew,

While from the eyelids jet hung down

A fringe as soft as eider down.

That bent like bows upon the cheek,

Whose hue was nature's kindest freak,

White, pink and red 'twere dimpled smootli,

Bespoke the flower just in its youth.

Her hair of golden, golden brown

Was waved in mosses o'er her crown,

While on her neck the surplus lay,

Confin'd by ribbon pink and grey.

She was not tall, she was not small,

'Twas figure fine and grace withal,

There was no fault that ye could trace.

And oh the smile lit up her face,

'Twould have charm 'd a fiend from evil,

'Twould have made some dry wits civil,

'Twould have soothed the broken heart

Of sin lashed hermit far apart.

It spell bound age alike with youth,

It read a merry tale forsooth

To all that in her sunshine basked,

That saw her dainty face unmasked.

And now a surge of passion beat

Upon a heart 'twould fain retreat,

^^w

125

For ever since his foot it trod

The dry, the muddy varied road

Of expectations high and low,

His nerves would like a battery go ;

In troth, he'd verily doubt his errand,

Thoughts run riot though apparent.

His object was before his eyes

Till he heard some welcome cries i

Till the actions of their souls

Thought and word full control.",

Assuaged by naught but close contact

The exchange of thoughts to counteract

The violent (low of keen emotion

That shook the frame with trembling motion.

'Twas said Napoleon knew his man

By this trait whence war cry fan,

The vane of thought for life or death.

To whom should he so well bequeath

His wishes dear, whilst gleaming steel

Made certain he should rock and reel ?

Who should wonder didst the change

One's nerves and system so derange ?

Wise man is he in moments dread

Who springs to fight when prayers are said.

There's gleams of light ayout the valley,
Canst that be from the Kirk Ardally ?
Or is it from Auchorney's house
Where yonkers hold some high carouse ?
But here, oh! mortal man, behold,
Was this ere Adam long foretold
Whom flits before the door in white?
Oh butterflies of starry night !
I drew a single picture fair,
But off my negative take a pair.

t !
t I

12G

CANTO IV.

Her flappiog sails that lazy lay,
While jocund breezes round them play,
Drew eyes upon a baffled barcjue
As suu went down and shades grew dark.
Her penuant from the Royal flew,
'Twould have told her chief and crew,
But eye nor glass could read her name,
Nor say how high in tary fame
Sailed this barque, this gallant ship,
Nor vvLat extent or length of trip
Had kept the sailor from his flame.

But she had plough'd the Indian seas,
Oft been in heavy simoon breeze,
Lain long in calm ayont the Hue,
In gulf stream meet the weedy slime,
Struck icebergs clear as tumbling Rhone.
Had scraped the corals off Ceylon ;
Her figure head had brav d the waves
Of distant seas that rolling laves
The shores of fabled savage lands,
With rugged peaks and smoother strands.

Chased by pirates bad and brave,
Celestial scoundrels, brute and knave ;
Caught dhows bound for foreign mart,
Black cargo'd where they might part,
To Sultan, Moor or Moslem king
Their sable slaves without a ring.

But now she lay in her native bay.
With anchor cast, at the close of day,
Nothing to gain, nothing to tear.
But wait again till day appear.
Her berth to gain at Tory's quay
With ensign Jack and pennant free,

127

Lashing the heavens, braving the air.
All danger past, doubt and despair.
How many a home will now rejoice,
How many a clear and welcome voice
Will her sweetheart's praise sing
Who'll many a dainty trinket bring—
Shawls of cashmere, finest loom.
Silks and spices from Rangoon ;
Birds of plumage green and red,
Rare in song and mimic breed ;
Sacred monkeys from the shrine
Where the cow is held divine ;
Wonders such as please the fond,
Presents such as draw the bond
Round the circuit of our friends,
Heal omissions, make amends ;
Sweetens every shower of life,
Smoothens wrinkles out of strife ;
Warms all thoughts in future time,
When away in distant clime
The giver roams on searches new,
Dripped, refreshed in Arctic dew ;
Dancing on the ocean wave
Stormy days and nights to brave :
While the mother fondly kuits,
At the fireside where she sits,
A stocking for her favourite boy
To wear with love and filial joy ;
While Jennie samples in his name,
In worsted red at top or hem.
Ah ! here's the captain, "jolly tar."
Last night thou kept the shifting bar
Between thee and the granite pier,
Where thousand town folks did appear
To view once more thy favourite face.
And bring the welcome of the place
To commodore of fleet so cautious :
Though fate and fortune aye audacious,

128

Tempting winds from zephyr squalls

To maddening hurricane drouthy brawls,

Waking Neptune out of sleep

Till his daughters bitter weep :

Rolling waters mountain high,

Leaving mermaids high and dry.

Combing long and glossy hair,

Riding dolphins, sporting pair.

While angry waves sweep o'er the deck,

Bending stanchion's scuppers rake.

Where anchor, captains, didst thou weigh ?

In roadsteed, firth or canty bay ?

What didst thy log first record ?

Where took thou cargo last aboard ?

What customs cleared thee for the sea ?

French or Dutch thy paper be ?

What's thy cargo, — rice or flour ?

Length of voyage, day and hour ?

Thou hast heard my story out,

Now's thy turn have a bout.

We sailed away 'tis five months gone,

We hail from a land where Danae's throne.

Built of gold and precious stone,

Gleam'd in the sun that night we sailed, '

Lit by the moon as the shadows veiled

From our ken that Island fair

In India's ocean a pearl rare :

Where the frequent showers of the goddess still

With the golden mean of Jove's great will

Favours the Isle of fair Ceylon,

Enriches the land around her throne :

Blessed is the land of the coral strands.

And our cargo's stoweti by coolie hands.

The voyage rough ! I've sailed the seas
In many a torrid and Arctic breeze ;
I've seen the heavens with the waters meet,
While Jove was forced to leave his seat ;

129

For years nigh forty the Spanish main
Has been to me like the hills to the swain
Round the globe I've carried the flag,
Tacked and reef d in every rag,
Stow'd the mainsail gib and spanker,
Lost my galley, wheel and anchor ;
Seen our ship on her beam ends roll,
Thought every wave a printed scroll
In Michael's hand, the great Archangel,
While watery grave we deem'd essential.

We'd barely veered two points west,
Nor sighted the cape's ostrich nest,
Till squall upon squall struck our beam,
And all our timbers began to squeam.
'Twas rush and roar, thrash and flash,
As Jove and Neptune's forces clash.
All elements war excepting earth.
Liken it to naught but throes of birth
Of some new race of giants strong,
Whom could such strife war among.

I hove her on the starboard tack
And ran for shelter with some smack.
But drove her forefoot on a reef
When all the crew took sad belief,
Some Zulu tribe with savage chief
From Zanzibar might whit their teeth
Of our bones in the morning grey.
And dance the war dance o'er their prey.

But by his mercy in whose charge
My soul confides when at large
Upon the ocean's gorgon bosom,
I aye depend for kindly ransom.
Now, lo ! behold the savage chief
Was born and bred in Neither Crief,

130

Had drifted far to Afric's shore

In search of fortune, home and lore.

He drew's ashore in friendly net

Till wind and wave didst us permit

Our Dee side craft to float again

Whom Zulus launched upon the main.

From thence we sail'd with better luck.

We swam the waves like diver duck,

Till Hercules pillars fill'd our eye,

Then winds took turns us to defy ;

Yet we have gained the dear old port

Before provisions grew quite short.

A tale of stirring times well told,

Whilst thou didst act the hero bold.

Well might thy voyage be so rough,

In forty years to veer and lufF ;

No storm its equal stirred the seas,

While sail ye've spread to catch the breeze.

Methinks this tale I've heard before.

Didst not thy lips detail this lore

Last time thou doubled round the horn

To meet at night the smiling morn ?

I know it is hard to measure force

While memory's cargo suffers loss.

Thy yarn is good, but whom is this

That now appears as from abyss,

Stalwart, noble, oronzed quite red,

Lithe, handsome, ludian breed ?

Doth blood of Sahib warm his veins ?

Or Nabob whence the Ganges drains ?

Or he's Parsee from Gwalior,

Or Burka Thug from Bungalore

To garrote rick folks in the town,

And rifle lacs of pennies brown.

Or Nana Sahib faith it be.

Cap! thou'lt bend the gallows tree ;

Super cargo's of such kidney.

Should enhale the air of Sydney.

f i

131

Where fancy leads, youth aye will follow,

O'er many a hill and charming hollow.

From flower to flower will flit with ease,

And ever try his whim to please,

As busy bee that hath no cell

To honey store from flow'ry dale.

Yet eye as keen's the wary hawk,

He fells his prey though jackal balk

Him of his quarry, golden game

O'er which the very wolves grow tame.

But youth is his' and fortune's kind,

He's in her train though aye behind.

To catch her smile is all his care.

Too proud to steal it unaware.

Whilst every turn soon lengthens out

The cavalcade that line the route.

As years increase her supple figure

To his eye increase in rigour,

And distance sad bedims the eye,

While age it wears the arm and thigh.

He lags, and now is far behind ;

She's left his eye but fills his mind.

Yet this great Scotsman bounded far,
But fell in fortune's golden car.
Who caught him in her kind embrace
To shower her bounty, love and grace
Upon this Scot of noble blood.
Who dates his patent from the flood.
And own's Ceylon, at least a part,
But never felt young Cupid's dart.

Thou hast diamond set my reputation.
Before good captain this kind deputation,
That I have caught fair Danae's shower
In every field and fairy bower
Where zephyr winds, the palm trees stir,
And fragrant wafts the spicy myrrh.

132

But this is worth the coral Isle,
Were it mine own one golden pile.
Those faces, streets and northern air
Gives one a welcome past compare.
My native hills and dales once more
I will 'vith gleeful sport explore.
If all ti,, youth in Eastern clime
Had ' ' spent, how ye would pine
Foi - ..- ><:. ' of silvery Dee,
For the I ■ '"?r man sea,
For tht ufcathti' s purple bloom,
To think of Mary's fatal doom,
To hear .„ p.^vis' 5"." . ''test tune,
Or morning lark in nif>. tt ^f June.

As warning toU'd the luchcap bell.

The sailors listened to the tale

Of the Bishop good Brothock,

Who placed the bell upon the rock.

Yet rather I'd clung to plank.

When our good ship she'd sank.

Than dusky coolies fan my brow.

Or drink the milk of sacred cow

In the tropic warm and rich.

Where natives palm trees lightly stitch ;

And use so trig for Sunday clothing.

So cool where heat is often loathing.

Ah ! Scotia featured stern but kind.

Where such a mother do we find ?

My hoard of wealth I'd often given

For one cool breeze off fair Lochleven ;

Or hear the Gadie's waters bright

Down Bennochie's rough mountain height

Rushing pure, refreshing, cool.

And simmering smooth in Afford's pool,

Where oft a sunset's charmed me

When childish like I'd bend my knee

133

To the glories of the west.
Beaming on the mountain crest.
Forgive, dear folks, this pure delight ;
A native land is such a sight.
That all emotions of our heart
Are by -play in this favourite part
Of scenes so bright in one act play,
That's been rehearsed for many day
To audience mixed, now far away,
And troth from it was loath to part.

A guest ye'U be of our Provost,

A man of worth and gear ;
A judge ye'U be at our joust

And view the great new pier.

We'll feast at the Chain and Anchor,
And dance at the sign of the Shah ;

Ye'U drink from the golden tanker
We won at the wapeonshaw.

Well cast a fly on the rippling Dee,
And bait our hook on the Don ;

We'll try a moonlight trip at sea.
And talk of the days that's gone.

Oh ! honours eam'd, tried and won,
My modesty will be undone ;
My awkward grace will ill repay
The lustre of your glistening ray,
Tho' in the East the pageant bright
Is sure to be a worthy sight.
But ladies seldom grace the board,
Nor does the ball-room such afford,
As swell our hearts a double size,
Or stranger prove a worthy prize.
Hence customs of our native land
Have rusted on the coral strand ;

i 'I

134

Yet hand and heart will e'er be true
To her who leads the dance with you.
To manners gilt I will submit,
And with her fan may lightly hit
The clumsy nabob from the East,
Who's list so oft to Llama priest ;
Who's seen Maharaja Rangeet Sing,
His Royal Highness Bombay's king,
With Kohinoor, the mountain light
Far shining midst the deadly fight.
Around his arm in arm -let set,
This diamond marked the bold Rangeet.
That I am boasting, ye will say ;
But think of me reflecting ray.
What I have seen ye will see ;
Belief, I am sure ye have in me.
The wonders of the wondrous East
Might charm the guests at any feast.
Had I the rhetoric of a Pitt
Mixed with Sheridan's splendid wit,
I might a guest of value be.
To tell alone what I didst see
Among the heathen millions proud,
Whose caste is pedigree endowed ;
Whom in the Jaggernaut and Ganges,
From brimy sea to back hill ranges.
Pin their faith and throw their children
To the water's wheels and cauldron.

But bumpers come to fair Ceylon,
Where peace and wealth guard her throne ;
The goddess of the golden mean.
Whose favours thou hast felt and seen.
And to the captain's steady ee'.
Who brought thee far across the sea,
Who's doubled Cathay, Cape and Horn
Good fifty times since he was bom.

"ym

135

Fill, glasses fill of choicest wine,
The pure champagne, Epernay's vine,
Iced cold as water from the berg
That floats off Greenland snowy kerg,'
Sparkling like the spring of life,
Charming like a canty wife.

Now, Sons of Scotia, here's to thee.
That breathe the air from Don and Dee ;
A blither race I've never met,
From John o' Groats to far Herat.
Your hearts they blaze like Etna's cone,
Though nectar flow sweet native Don.
Long may ye welcome foreign rovers
Back to the fold, as highland drovers
Drive the sheep that stray afield
To steal the farmer's turnip yield.

Now feast and joust and revel high

With morning bring a racking sigh.

Which prove we're ne'er meant to be

The dupes of passion wild and free.

Such dregs and seeds and aftermath

Are neither life nor sudden death ;

But fire of furnace roasting white,

And winter days that piercing bite.

The two extremes we're forced between,

If in the tropics we careen ;

While native air, so moist and mellow.

Don't draw the spirits through each hollow.

Ring, ring, Hollands, with son:e soda water.
Iced, sugar'd, lemon'd, mix the matter.
We have John Collins, a Yankee tipple,
"Twould mend thy head though e'er so brittle
Even were it cracked; but here's the coach.
Before I've time my eggs to broach.

186

Now for the balmy country air,
That o'er the fields in morning blow,
Sweet scented by the rose white brier
That round the homestead frequent grow.
While marsh and meadow emerald green,
Where daisies, cowslips mix between
Sweet clover and the glossy rye —
The hunting ground of bees and kye ;
And forests thick with rosin'd fir.
Where undergrowth no breezes stir.
Loud sounds the horn, thy seat's outside.
Though mornings cool a glorious ride ;
Will well repay thy comforts nil.
For Buchan's air is sharp and chill.

Ye've Byron's noted brig to cross,
Balgonie's arch where Don wild toss
Her silvery waters to the sea,
Where yet is firm the single key.
Nor symbol sign of tale foretold.
That is to shake the lime so old,
And leave the Don a dangerous ford
To cross dry shod on boat or board.

Guards, postilions of the royal mail,
Whisked around in their long coat tail,
Gilt buttoned, whereon the royal arms
Lends to officials such majestic charms.
Wellington boot'd, red tops, buff cords,
Red vest to white necktie all accords.
Face weather bite, red with rhum.
Commands stable boy with jerk of thumb ;
Swears at the waiters for lazy loots,
Cracks his whip at the obliging boots,
And for his morning kisses the barmaid twice.
Guard sounds his horn, we're off in a trice,
While inside grumbles of their trodden toes,
And one old man falls against bis nose.

187

But o'er the causeway we rattle bright,
And smiling morn changes place with night.
Sharp blows the winds o'er the rolling bay,
Itinerant vendors keep the bystreets gay
"With cries of skate, shrimp and caller herring,
And other dainties, caught l)y folk seafaring.
As on we roll, till the garden's bloom
Replaces the house aged in dingy gloom-
On thy right view the college pile,
Grimed with age in its Gothic style,
Rear'd long before a jury sat.
While peers were known as Archbald bell the cat.
See building stand, small, aged and cosy ;
See faces peep old, though fresh and rosy,
Having fann'd no passion to shorten life,
Nor foUow'd fortune to war in strife ;
But dream'd with Morpheus from curfew bell,
Till matins swing waking Aurora pale.

But now Apollo hath fast begun
His upward flight, while Aurora faint
And fainter grows till she is dun.
Vanishing in heaven like a martyr'd saint ;
And all the hills a graceful beauty lent
In misty drapery with sunshine blent.
The milkman's car goes rattling fast,
While horses' hoofs a dust shower cast,
To blind the dray horse, cabbage loaded.
Slowly stepping, steady, nothing goaded ;
Clydesdale built, with powerful mien.
At heavy draught they're king or queen.
And lorries cutting deep the road
With granite blocks, to mark the abode
Of saint or sinner, soul or body,
As the sculptor or the noddy.
With his chisel, features cast,
That will of Robeslaw ages last.

138

So lively moves the market throng
Till we are far the hills among ;
And Fovern's bonnie lassies peep
As shy as any highland sheep,
To chaff the guard for being late,
Who calls them all his dearest pet.

The rural scenes that meet the eye
With clearest blue of Northern sky,
And fields agreeu that seldom seen
Away from British Isles, I ween,
Drew him far back to younger day?,
When he the school boy truant plays
To hide at thorn and whine dyke side,
To pass the hours should tutor guide
Amongst the hoody crows so black,
To watch the sun the hnvens track,
That he may not o'erstep ihe mark,
But meet the mother's eye ere dark.

Is this a tollgate barr'd and guarded ?
Ah ! Scot its feudalism not discarded.
Here do we change our steed's good whip.
And let our cattle fill their rip.
And try mine host's good country fare,
For troth ye'vp appetizing air.

he Ythan's waters rolling fast
Our figure in reflection cast,
Before ye test our Northern fare,
And drink the health of King and Mayor.
'Tis EUou's groves that shade the sun
When we the first stage well have won,
And there below thy kith's kind eye
Thou mayst the Ythan pearl* buy.

# Said to be the fiuest in tbe Queen's crown.

139

When I in youth, a favourite son,
Was with my father sure to run
To kirk or fair, mart or meet,
I often saw the ancient 'seat
Of Northern Barons proud and bold,
Where now the ok is bought and sold.
I've stood upon the famous bridge
O'erhung by Craighall's rugged ridge.
And seen the floods the meadows fill,
And cast of driftwood in the swill.
Some laggard farmers hay in kocks
Sail down majestic o'er the rocks,
With boats whose hawsers slender cast
Had with the wildest rush and blast
Broke helpless in the turbid tide,
And steer'd their course from side to side,
As currents curve, sweep aud eddy,
Past the auld kirk manse's study.
With stern delight and eager eye
I watch'd the mountain flood go by,
And climb'd upon the parapet bold
Till hand on me laid sudden hold.
I've seen the pearl fisher dive
And land with shells enough to hive
The steeple of yon church in view,
Tho' faint a gem in all the stew.

Ah ! scenes of youthful aspirations,
Here centred all my expectations.
'Twas my Jerusalem, my worid's pivot.
My Athens, my Rome, my Paris.
Oh if I'd the power to give it
An immortal name, but fire miscarries.

Ye gods, why hast thou shrunk ?
Or was mine eye aye maudling drunk,
To magnify thy fertile groves.
Where yet my youthful fancy roves ?

140

Didst not a flood on native land
Leave all the fields an ocean strand ?
And this the seed of city great.
But here my guide's the last tollgate ;
Whilst now a village at my feet
With scarce a lane or small by-street.

Hath Haddo cut the woods so clear
That Ythan's shrunk my river dear
To rivulet, with scarce force to drive
A mill wheel and the miller thrive.

Your mighty rivers in the East
Might well upset our Northern feast
Of beauties as they meet thine eye,
Nor do we wonder if ye cry
Shrink ! shrunk ! 'Twas all delusion.
How could I live on such illusion ?

Ah yet, my friend, there's beauty here
That to my test some ripe fruit bear .
The childish bloom still fills mine eye,
While all gaj' beauties sweltering lie
A wasted strength down at my feet.
Round half the world in fortune's seat.

When I view this childish scene,
When I stand where oft I've been,
How fancies fond pervade my mind,
And think of those who were so kind.
As I would ramble through the fair,
And view the passing scenes so rare,
I thoughtless raiss'd the appointed hour,
Then rarely dined till three or four.
When Aunty, aye so kind and good,
Would worry, fret and sadly brood
About mishaps that happen youth
While playing round the whisky booth.

141

Now, these are pleasures of the past

That stand a figure marble cast,

As fondest features of my life

That mellow passion's cruelest strife,

Which may appear in love's sweet path

As well as grubbing fortune's straith.

Sweet purling stream of my youth,

I would averr'd a sad untruth

Had I been told in simoom course

Thy flood would scarcely dew the gorse

That grows on Delhi sacred hill,

Nor run enough the well to fill

Where dear Rebekah's pitcher stood,

When Abraham's servant went and woo'd

This maid to mate his master's son,

Then slaked his thirst when bargain done.

In thy cool tide I'll lave my brow,

I'll walk thy banks with Cupid's bow.

Among the grassy plots so green ,

And woo the nymphs that grace the scene.

See yonder Indian nabob,

We'll drink his health in wine,

Now, Boots, that swell is worth a bob,
A Gordon true and fine.

This skin of Bengal tiger

He shot in jungle wild ;
And that curly-headed nigger.

He reared him from a child.

Who tells such awful stories

Of Thugs and beasts of prey ;

Who's seen the far-fam'd glories
Of Rajah, Prince and Dey.

142

I doubt we may believe him,

But troth he this didst say :
He saw Kahupur's quarry grim

That Nana foul didst slay.

Methinks he'll rest but for a day
To catch old Sol's brighest ray

Play on the Ythan clear,
And view the scenes of youth so gay
That's twined in many an ancient lay

By poet, priest and peer.

But here the minutes fled so fast
While I the ribbons soon must cast

Across my gallant greys,
And scarcely break my morning fast
Till I must face the Northern blast

That's blown for many days.

Oh ! native glens with silvery streams,
Where blithe Apollo's shadow beams,
Where I have chased the mountain nymph,
Wild as Barbary's great giraffe.

Dearest spot of mother earth,
Hear my omens read at birth ;
Thus they ran a double meaning,
WLiie the witches far went gleaning.
Thence his foot will bear him far,
Long a heart without a scar.
Plutus old and blind he'll lead,
Since in war he's shriv'd the dead.
East its glories will unfold,
lyifee the rose or marigold.
While his native glen will rear
A tree of knowledge fruit to bear.
That will gladden heart and eye,
Long to catch, in catching die.

143

As thy kith bears of the fruit,
Thou wilt don thy shrouding suit.
Thus the mawkin read my fortune,
Yet this far without misfortune.

Oh ! happy home, scene of my youth,
Though barn and byre may seem uncouth.
Thy gables are as turret great
On fair Varsellies with all its state ;
Where architect hath spent his skill,
Tbat wondering folks may wonder fill.
But here within are souls as great
As ever wield' d power by fate
In any kingdom far or near.
This truth our laurels will forbear.
With hearts as warm as bright fireside
Beats in their bosoms yet with pride
Of race and name that honours gained
In council camp of war unstained.
Halls of my fathers, green ivy clad,
What mirthful, aye, and sometimes sad
Scenes thou hast beheld within,
Where laurels hang thy sons didst win.
When chase was o'er and huntsman keen
Spread quarry on the tennis green ;
When goblet reamed with autumn brew.
The board it groan'd with ox or ewe ;
When weirdest bagpipe music strains
Caus'd blood to circle thrcu;jh the veins.
And coursing like a pure greyhound
That after deer and hare doth bound
Athwart the ditches, dykes, and heather,
Till huntsman, hound and horse foregather.
But now I'm lost in days of yore,
When tough bull hide with human gore
Was dyed to try the clansman's strength
To meet the foe at claymore's length.

144

While lo ! behold, they know not yet
That Scotland's air doth counterfeit
The noxious blast of Sirocco,
That's fatal oft as Naugioe.

He raised himself in gig, and viewed
Auchorney's stately neighbouring wood ;
Then from his knee the apron flung,
And on the grassy plot he sprung.
My native heath I'll tread once more
Before I dark my father's door,
Before I welcome kind receive,
In troth their honest hearts deceive,
And trespass through the greenest corn
Till father sounds the shepherd horn —
A warning sharp to keep the path
And not encounter his high wrath.
Walk slowly down the winding road
Till thou seest the tennis sod
Prest by this shoe of serpent 'lide,
Pure alligators from Indus tide.

Come, laird, and see this poacher whelp,
I'll whistle for the bloodhounds' help.
Such manners ! see him gawk in furrows,
And walk; by George, as if the harrows
Zigzag behind the auld grey mares.
Think thou his game is birds or hares ?
Thy judgment's faulty, honest henchman,
I would go bail he is a Frenchman,
And walks as if he rode dragoon.
Since from the skirts of mother's gown
He left to face a friend or foe,
And fight on Danube, Rhine or Po.

Why, father dear, he is our kith.
I know a Gordon straight and lith.
His foot doth mark a time unknown.
But when our blood hath swiftly flown

145

Through a heart that's warm and pure,
And will in chase and war endure,
The longest hours a summer sun
Will through the welkin take to run.

He through the fields with ease and time
Struts as it were his native clime,
And not on soil of foreign queen
Were he in search of lass or mean ;
While distance yet he has to gain
Is far too long my eyes to strain.
But, Annie, with thy bright blue ee',
Canst thou say who he might be ?

His face is foreign'd with the sun,
While young was I when honours won
That rais'd him full a sub so bold,
Wheu for the east his regiment told
To hurry forth and face sedition.
As things were in such bad condition.
But now when I distinguish mien.
'Tis Archie's walk, were he unseen
By closer eye this proves a brother.
I'll run and tell his anxious mother.

Why, Annie, Patrick's far from here.
His letters full of doubt and fear
Of seeing season come and go.
And watch the flowers full often blow.
Before the briny deep hath groan'd
With his weight, or he hath swoon'd
With the swell or weather rough,
Androck'd in sea's deepest trough.

Oh ! bring the glass, my child, I say ;
I'll know his mien while yet it's day. '
My favourite son might play a prank.
And like a farmer loup the stank.
His shoulders, laird, might well be yours,
And Archie's step he sure endures,

146

While every move betrays your race ;
But yet my mother's sweet old face
Is kind reflected from yon glance,
And smile that o'er his features dance.

But, parents dear, how do we gaze ?

We may mistake while wishes daze

Our reason and our manners blunt.

As in the house instead of front

We might anticipation feed.

Nor let our thoughts run out to weed.

Unlike to aught I ever knew
In flesh and blood a Gordon grew.
He's Indian true, I've seen them twice.
And now, my folks, take my adNnce :
Dispel your wishes immature,
We'll have a guest, I'm unco sure,
That may enlight'n's with the truth
Of what our Pat designs forsooth.

How provoking steady is his step !
It might be hours at that slow gait
Before he gains the garden gate,
While father's doubts opinion bait.
He's looking now for ancient site
Of mansion where he saw the light
Of day break first upon his ej'e,
When limp on mother's knee didst lie.
Why, Bessie dear, his eye might catch
Thee by the window close to watch
His figure fine, erect and strong,
That might be breed the hills among.

Now, ye are raving, lassies, sure.
We mustn't let such thought mature.
False hopes might mar a hearty welcome,
A stranger's due might surely sulk him ;
But come what will, a mothers wish
'Twould waft him north of Greenwich.

147

Yest'reen I read his letter through.
Its full commented gist by you
Was '.ve might view the comet pass.
That is in Neptuhe's two year class,
Before he steer'd a western course
And felt the simoom's steady force.

Hush, father, hush, my brother's here,
Or I will lose at next New Year
The.brawest gown may seller buy.
While every cow hath milk gone dry.
His features now I well can trace,
And it is Archie's sonsy face.
But finer set and sharper cut.
Free of the mu J or dusty smut
That fly around a farmer s head
To bake his face like oaten bread.
His rich apparel, finely spun.
Not suited where the winter sun
Doth rise at eight and set at four:
While many a day he'll pass the door
With face in mist undone.

His hair is raven black, I trow,
And shelters well his stately brow
With silver streaks grey early dawn.
But, goodness me, he's on the lawn,
And I no further traits can trace
That he's a scion of our race.
But, mother dear, thy ken will prove
Did'st he with us e'er share thy love.
Or did'st thy kindly heart sore wring
And at ihee, cruel, his slippers fling
In hour of fret, when toys were gone,
Or when thou kept him here alone,
Whilst others roam'd in gay attire
At dance or festival with sire.

148

Troth, mother, thou'rt dress'd to meet
Some prince at home or anuual fete.
Wait till the shrubbery background make
Then on our reason judgment brake,
Nor let thy fancy feelings mar.
Ere from the door we move the bar.

Ah ! child of mine, thou canst deceive
A mother's ken, who will perceive
The step that brought thy father far,
While yet my hair looked golden bar,
When he to gain my heart so shy
Didst long with others keenly vie.

Oh ! how is fair Ceylon , my boy,
Or didst thou come from Dahomey?

CANTO V.

Ah ! mother dear, to thee I'll tell
What fortune good or ill befel
Thy filial daughters, saucy bent
Upon such errands as indent
The hearts of flint or granite red,
But ply them as the tinsmith lead :
Though warm with passion never meant
To save the brew or sediment,
Whilst some like Satyrs clownish were,
So rough, aye rough as yews on fir.

Why sent ye not young Duncan o'er?
He'd been sweet welcome, April flower.
And raised a flutter round our hearts.
That we'd forgot ourselves in parts
That all must play at ball or meet
When at the laird auld country seat ;
He'd wak'd a brood of jealous bears,
And, oh ! such fun as naught compares.

149

To bait the squire in trite civilities,

And bantering starch the heart's futilities.

And playful lead in shady grove

Grim children of a childish love; 1

To practice quack with sweeteu'd lotions,

And leave infected fever'd patients.

To mourn such wanton sport for weeks ;

And cure their scars with garden leeks.

Oh I Ann, thou draw'st thy figures rude,
What words did pass misunderstood
Amongst our neighbours kind and glib.
Not prone to sneer or turn a fib.
For manners in the school of Bows
Ye shar'd as for a learning goes,
An equal portion of the grace
That fortune strew'd around the place.

Twere years, say thirty, then at balls
Their fathers trod with me the halls.
The great event spread far and near.
To break a truce on gossip ear :
Nor couples now can -bend the floors.
Though grand Alhambra's kingly Moors
Transplant'd were to Northern clime.
They'd lose in grace with quicken'd time.

Oh I degenerated waifs of thine,
Dear mother, I so often whine
For such days long past and gone,
When thou filled fair Venus' throne,
And grandma view'd the fairy scene
To thank the gods for such a queen.
To marvel at her second self
Upsetting hearts, power and pelf.

Go lassie, go, and show our flowers
That deck our walks and shady bowers.

150

That Duncau may his mother shame,
Wheu he descants on flush and flame
That blaze from rose and fuschia red
Sweet borders round our violet bed.
Our bees so cosy in the neuk
From Boreas' blast and southly look.
Be cautious that the stranger's foot
Don't wake the eager rogues to loot
And drive you from our Hesperidep,
The scenes and source of all our prides.

But, mother dear, I've much to tell
That troth must please thee unco well-
Last night, no dearth of sly attention
Held the maids in false detention,
As he, thy foreign favour'd son,
Drew all eyes and all heaits wou,
While slight we shar'd the rays so bright :
And thus thy oflspring won the night.

All lens were fasten'd strong on him,

All senses yield'd passion's whim ;

For naught was heard, naught was seen,

But his sayings and his mien.

Why, mother, choose among the belles

A daughter who so far excels

Thine own bred country lasses trite,

She'd sioar above the herd like kite.

Come, children, tell me whom he drew.
Oh ! Bess, my lass, ye've aye the cue.
Who didst their birth and breeding tell,
Who didst deport their manners well.
On whom didst sister's eye decide
To be her brother's worthy bride ?

Jane of I.owden, tall and slim.
Sharp of feature, long'd for him ;
Pink she stalk'd in furbelow freaks, ,
A finger pricking job for weeks.

151

Enough, uiy child, I'll ne'er relent
To mix such blood with my consent,
A Towers with Gordon, meagre pack,
Who keeps their servants on the rack.
Oh ! no, my lass, whom have ye next ?
We're shy of pedigree so mixed.

Then, mamma, I have watched of late
The graces favour Burnham's Kate.
Sweet of face, she's grown a maid
So handsome troth it's tame when said ;
She's shared a race's intellect,
Whom Plutus blind deigns to collect
Enough of dross to free their hands
From squeezing users at calends.

I've cast my eye athwart the moor.
While tochers plenty there, I'm sure,
Stow'd in some hole, hose or shoe ;
But Bnrnham shames the meanest Jew.
Since such traits might mar the rose,
W^e'll pull our flower where houour grows.

Down where the Ugie meets the sea,
Where the breakers damp the lea,
Sprang a maid of marvelous grace,
Whose pedigree far back ye'll trace ;
For she, a Keith, upholds the name
Proud of Marshall Prussian fame,
Proud of Frederick's wisest tutor
l^nmatrimonial courtly suitor.

Hebe's check with morning dew
Fails to catch a brighter hue.
Graceful, calm Aurora pale
When to Phoebus waves farewell.

152

Fails to charm us like this nymph,
With grace and sense warring triumph.
There now fondly I had pent
All conceits of joy e'er lent
To a mother's patient ear,
To move a fond parental tear ;
And season high facetious cloy,
Wherein all fickle hearts deploy.

Thy ken, my child, it pleases me,
She's won thy love a double fee.
I little doubt thy words are true,
How can we dare to malt the brew ?
Didst P-'^rick read her faith in thee ?
Or didst he ever seem to see
Such plumage from the Arctic wave,
Whose fathers lie in exile grave ?

The truth is this, that round him spun
The giddy, fickle flirts o'erdone.
That maid of modest mien stood back,
And seem'd discard'd from the pack.
Bess slyly mentioned name and place,
Which woke the subject of her race.
And twice reverted to the siege.
But little said our noble liege.

Now, great Adonis of the East,
We'll spread for thee a sumptuous feast ;
We'll gather beauty far and near.
And she the goddess shall be here,
And she the emblem of the great
May bear the witch's wand of fate.

Ye' 11 meet again at county ball,

And in the Errol's castle hall

She'll move as in her happy home,

And draw such fealty as Rome

Her daughters paid, so grand and chaste,

To fair Lucrece and all the rest.

153

Then mark her natural condescension,
Mark her by-play meet attention
Sliower'd upon such heiress grand,
The pride, the honour of the land ;
All the graces blent in one,
All the praises far o'erdone,
For the wife of Menelaus
Can't be wrote without a clause,
Strong inserted in her favour.
Thus to you I will endeavour
Justice render maid and mien,
Ne'er forgot if e'er be seen.

Like the balmy zephyrs flying
Round us warm, there's no denying
That the play of features fine
(Short they're nothing of divine)
Wakes a sacred loving awe,
Like some famous healing spa,
Sprinkling waters on the sick.
Raising drooping spirits meek,
Till we feel her presence strong.
Weaning hearts inclining wrong.
Thus my picture's incomplete.
But I'll retouch it when we meet.

Oh ! Bess, my child, thy penetration

Might saved the Seuz excavation,

A union of the purest kind

Must follow with this noble mind.

Ye've sooth'd thy mother's anxious heart.

If we with him unwilling part,

A guardian angel we have chose,

That he in troth may little lose.

And if we strain'd unconscious guilt.

The sin would thousand mothers melt.

154

r ;i

CANTO VI.

Thy presence I have left unredeemed,

Yet with 'pologies I'm not bemeaned,

For every flaw doth our nature show,

When past the corners of truth we go ;

To make a burden of necessity.

Might wake that mangy cur, adversity,

Who follows close an erring mind,

While thoughts perverted leave us all purbliuc^

If I neglected thee, what other course
Was mark'd for me to shun the pricky gorse,
For knew thou ever one of womankind
Who didst ever seem so curst unkind.
When latest fashion decks a rival queen,
We trim the gores, and every feather preen,
And marvel much at our penetration,
Faulting the milliner's mode of demonstration
In copying this or that in lace and tulle,
To leave her wearer a gay April fool.

I little dreamt thy sunny mind
Would coin a thought or word unkind.
I know thou jest of what might be.
It can't be said I am sure of thee.
I know thee now, m)' dear, so well ;
I knew thee when we couldn't tell
Hat or bonnet, shawl or plaid,
Or little cared on whom they laid.

Come, draw me round sweet nature's flowers ;
Come, lead me through thy fairy bowers.
Oh I bend thee down and pluck a rose,
That I may wear thy gift jocose ;
That I may banter from thy mind
All words of jealousy unkind.

155

A bouquet scented with rosemaryj
Take it, Duncan, from thy fairy.
Couldst thou think an evil thought
Dare for this be sold or bought ?
Why staid thou here and us from home ?
Thy footstep's v.vlcome where we roam.
When didst thou pull the entry bell,
To learn the hall's deserted tale,
For near the hour of ten it w^as ;
I droop'd, but little knew the cause.

Oh ! Annie dear, that hour is true,
'Twas when I trod the parlour through.
'Twere then I knew my birds were lost,
Then I on anxious billows toss'd
With fancy, for my ship set sail,
To steer Auchorneys downs a gale ;
And thou my haven douced in fog, •
Besieg'd by some young country rogue ;
Left gloom enough to dark my hours,
And think of thee in moonlit bowers,
Light tripping through the ancient hall,
A queen, the star of county ball.

The hour of midnight toU'd its knell,
And yesterday had rose and fell,
Kre oflF my soul the fetters dropp'd ;
Then from the spell I quick eloped,
Flew giddy in the maze of mirth,
And felt renewed with second birth.
Whilst thou must slept in calm repose.
With thoughts relaxed by Morpheus' dose.
And nothing cared with whom we danced.
Nor when some gallant slyly glanced.

I tossed and fretted long in thought,
I had to frenzy nearlj' wrought,

150

Calm philosophy past and future,
But to the present an unwilling suitor,
Aye shy of man in selfish mood,
In troubled times misunderstood.

So thus the weight of care brought down

My eyelids midst a jealous frown,

When on I swept in deep oblivion,

Till some strains in yon pavilion

'Gainst my ear untutored beat,

Whilst high the lark with •' wings dew \ et '

CaroU'd her early matins sweet,

And warn'd me forth the dawn to meet,

To air ray disappointed fumes.

And lay them in Aurora's tombs.

So genial glanced Apollo down
That not a fret, freak or frown
Played or wrinkled round my soul,
But forth I cantered like a fool ;
Still unwean'd from early love,
Still unpaired with coyish dove ;
False or true she may be.
Ne'er she can lay blame on me.

Oh ! Duncan, do not read me wrong,
There's naught that's false to me belong ;
There's nothing dare thy doubts increase,
Till mj' heart a beating cease.
When the cold moon shade her light
Yest'reen, I felt a nervous blight,
As fond I threw my thoughts across
The heather moor and Dudwick moss.
And rambled up the glen with thee,
As when in childish fancy's glee
We sought the broom from flying shower,
And in the purple heather cower,
Escaping Boreas' blasts of wrath,
Come sweeping up the bonnie straith.

157

Doubts, there's uone, my lass, iu me
Of thy heart so frank and free ;
If disappointment wrung my soul,
'Twas only that 1 reached the goal
Ere the prize was minted through
A furnace hot to brand anew,
A tempering of the human passions
When our plight on such occasions,
Sorely tried if rarely broke ;
Yet the wheel might shave a spoke
Among such rocks projecting far
When soft magnetic as a star.

Now, here is Bess, we'll stand behind

Yon brier bush, if ye don't mind ;

We'll see her search the apiary,

And think I'm turn'd a queen bee fairy ;

We'll watch the motions of her soul

Play in her eyes without coutiol ;

Her thoughts will shape to move her lip,

A saucy word she may let slip ;

We'll watch the passiocs change her face

And learn how deep she's in the race.

The latter words were said so 1(^,
His ear the meaning didst forego,
As aye she uttered soundless phrases.
But that they were her sister's praises ;
And keen her bright blue bonnie eye
Kept wandering round as if to vie
The passions fleeting in each face,
And cunning catch the source of place
From whence arose such effervescence,
Like Borealis quiescence.
And thus, unselfish, there she stood,
To learn the share her sister good
Might have in Duncan's beating heart ;
For Bess was known to claim a part.

"Ml

•':</*

158

While Bess she grop'd the branches through,
They gently mov'd to void her view ;
While gleams of joy lit up her face,
Cold disappointment ye might trace,
That stilled her features to a chill,
While colour flitted like one ill.
As round libernum's willow trunk
She peered like holy hermit monk,
And there stood, musing for a while
As o'er her features play'd a smile
Of bafil'd hope and anxious care,
That she had miss'd the happy pair ;
That she her share must now forego
Of whom was deem'd a family beau.
Then down the tears came trickling fast
O'er dimpled cheek with rose o'ercast,
And sobbing said, I've now undone;
Oh ! Aunie, when in childhood fun
We grasses drew, the longest gain'd.
But now, with selfishness ye're stained.
Thou slyly fled, while I, to mother,
Didst warm in praises Helleu smother.
And primed his mind with clotted paint,
That neither sinner blaq^ nor saint
Reflects from canvas thickly danb'd,
Whilst I must wander sister robbed.

Oh ! wait, whilst I doth temper grief,
She's proved my heart a guilty thief.
Ah ! Bessie dear, 'tis all in fun.
See yonder golden glorious sun.
With radiant face, uncloud'd mien,
l/ook in my heart, it's brighter seen
Than Phoebus in his heavenly race ,
For ye no guile could in it trace.
Hush, darling, hush, since Duncan there
Ne'er think of flying with despair.

159

That Anarchist of dearest hope.
Oh ! let the dire lieutenant drop.
Where, oh ! where hath he o'erheard
The rambling words of maid ill-starred ?
What didst I say, oh ! Annie dear.
Upbraiding thee in mad career ?
We must in falsity bring forth
Some monster grim'd with poison'd froth,
That left my mind unreason trimm'd,
And all my vision tear bedimm'd.

Such sights were frequent in the days
When Jove could sway Apollo's rays,
And hurl his thunderbolt hot down
Upon the proud delinquent's crown,
While Neptune aids his brother's curse
By letting loose his octopus.
To gather for their master's -feast
Maids too eager for their priest
To tie the bonds of matrimony,
And bosoms fill with poison'd honey,
Of sisters in their loving plight,
Like tigress in the jungle fight.

Soothe thy ruffled thoughts, my child.
Do not have Duncan's visit spoiled
By every whim and fancy fond.
There's something in our family bond
Too sacred for hysteric's fate,
And all hast smoothly run to date.

Light through the shrubbery Duncan flew,
And round the discons'late figure threw
His arms in wildest fond embrace,
To on her snow-white brow impress
A fervent kiss of childish joy.
That quick all vapours cold destroy.

160

IP'

U >! 'L il

Then search'd the garden far and near
For reptile, devil, dog or bear,
Who wrought such havoc in preserves ;
All nature's inborn strength conserves.

Yet naught was seen, heard or felt

When they had rummag'd, peer" d and knelt

In every grotto, grove and bower,

When heaven recall'd them with a shower,

And drove all in pavilion's shades.

To twist the subject of such raids.

The truant maid all brightness gre
While sister slyly backward drew.
She little dreamt her ruse would end
Where others' passions warm transcend
Her own, and gain the covet throne,
Where she was wont to reign alone.

Oh ! what a blunder one doth make
To plaj' with passions as a snake ;
To poke with jest and hey-day fun
Till all friendship's far o'erdone.

Blest kindly soul who doth so woo,
For others' failures mercy sue.
Who ply the balm to chafing hearts,
And wields affection unknit parts.

Profuse was Bess with thanks disguis'd.
She pled her cause that all rejoic'd,
And thus describ'd her recent readings
As just the seeds of day dream breedings.

For when alone in musing mood
My mind it fill with genii brood,
Then from the East our brother came.
Describing serpents, Thugs and game.

161

Of furious mien and treacherous ways, "

Unfit for poet's minstrel lays.

Stings poison tipp'd, and their breath

Doth mean within a rood sure death.

Thus strew'd the jungle doth appear,

A chamel house in dearth of bier,

And like those prairies equal tossed

With bones of bufiFalo ever lost,

As red man savage for their hide

Trekked this brute to Clotho's tide.

Thus she twisted every corner round,

Her guileless prattle left us all unsound

On what we saw, heard, but didn't find.

And nigh our thoughts sham'd for being unkind.

But pure her soul magnetic drew

Every thought poison'd out of you.

And ere the sky show'd its ether blue ;

For favours kind we of each other sue,

And confidence redeems the days of yore,

^^ hen we for nests the wild hills explore.

CANTO VII.

Go I must ; they ever say it's so,
When I to dear Auchluchrie's go.
Stay far beyond the allotted time.
Whilst mother dare impose a fine;
When out his welcome Duncan wears
To move a cousin's contrite tears ;
That kith and kin should so far forget
That doDrs are only open up to date.
And three days' grace, a banking clause,
Is not inserted in true honour's laws.

Besides the fields to nature spread
A verdant feast to him unfed
Since Boreas swept the mother earth.
Now, Persephone brings at a birth

i-n:

102

All such gifts as never fled
From the box Pandora made.
Her votaries robb'd she of a blessing,
Hence till now hath been a missing.

Weeds grow fast while seed sprout slow,
Deeds though great are rated low.
Hence much care of all that's goo<l
Tends the gods to bless our food.
So I must see the turnips grow^
And hoe the weeds from every row.
Or not a bulb will feed the cattle,
Then quarter's rent who is to settle ?
Kine hungry browse before the blast,
And fat the cold doth eat so fast,
Of stirk and stot, cow and quoy,
And freeze the Baillie and herd boy.

Ah ! Duncan, let the hirelings tend,
And now thy holiday extend.
My brother will detail exploits
And many a scene describe in fights,
When he with Havelock highland clad
Didst with bayonet bloody mad
Send the Sepoys o'er the bourne,
Whilst man and woman in their turn
Danc'd for joy to see their race.
And dusky devils put to chase.

Oh ! little knew we where he was.
Nor how our name and honour'd laws
Suffer'd in that treacherous land,
Still held by Briton's noble band.

The gallant Campbell swept Luckuow
Of those that worshipp'd brand'd cow ;
Of those that hate the fat of hog
And blew him up the Sepoy dog.

■t. (

163

Death dread and cruelty all was there,
When from the cannon's mouth so bare
The Rajah flew, and none could tell
Was he to heaven sent or hell.
WTiich sore disturb'd the heathen rogue.
That he was fain to fil. with grog.

Then Hobson, of that galiant troop,
Hobson's horse didst palace scoop.
Of Delhi, Princes Royal blood,
And calmly shot them where they stood.

Oh ! Duncan, how doth stern fate
Our fortune good or bad debate,
And chain us to our natal door
Till we are near the age a score.
While Patrick's golden spurs hath won,
And all our race far outdone
In far mutinous kingdom Oudh,
In land of dusky Rajah proud.

True, Cosmos, I doth think anew
With pride to take a farther view,
Since from thy brother I have heard
In foreign lands how well he fared,
The strands of such I will explore,
Be it Niagara or Cawnpoor.

I have a thought full in my mind
That we have sport of truest kind,
That we a colt will break this day
To fill the saddle gig or dray,
And thoa shalt see such mettle pent
Within this horse the Laird me sent.
A Bucephalus worthy of the king
We^l train to act in circus ring.

I! -

164

My humour's of that worthy bent,
I would for days myself absent
From sweating labour's honest grind,
Whereat the oat and milk fed hind
Are well content to watch for hour,
When homely fare sustain his power.

To catch him in the fields so wide,
An equal chase might find a bride
With lighter breath ere we have done,
And catch a beauty in our run.
Yes, Cosmos, true it's fine philosophy,
Though not our bent, nor yet theosophy ;
This morning ere the sun pierce down.
We'll show him docile through the town.

Now veer him where the fence is high,
And lasso throw if he's too shy.
He shakes his head with fine disdain,
And with his heels would reach us fain.

Oh ! Cosmos, keep the halter back,
Or he may know it is a rack.
Unwilling see the mares submit.
And from thy canny hand shy flit.

Close quick the neuk so well affords
A chance to ply the hempen cords.
Oh ! dregs of time, he's wild as deer,
He spann'd thy precious head so clear.
That troth our labour's well begun.
Nor heaven knows when it will be done.
We'll change our venue to the East,
And jury's verdict be the least.
For every time he'll cross this rig.
To Cruden's Arms in double gig
He'll drive us long ere sun go down,
And test the whip for every frown.

165

If Duucau dire misfortune match,
This change of venue with last catch,
It might be well to whistle for
A crew of men that love a splore,
To ease such arms that f-teady stilts,
And from the humdrum harrow jolts

Oh ! Cosmos, do not blunt our courage.
Nor let them toll our short demurrage.
With caution draw him by the gate.
While I with hand on halter bait,
This king of equine purest breed,
This bay Kentucky gallant steed.

Whoo, Whoo !
Right o'er his head the halter flew,
And off he bounds pell mell anew.
But Duncan, as his shoeless hoof
Plunged in the ditch, stood not aloof,
But caught his mane, and mounting free,
Then drew him up on the tufiled lea,
And forced him on wild unchecked.
That both seem'd verging to be wrecked.
But ere the march dyke it was reached,
He walk'd as steady as a priest.
When Duncan calm dismounts to guide
This erstwhile mustang full of pride, [

And gazed like Rarey in his face '

Some minutes ere they did retrace ;
Then back they march as sworn friends.
The noble brute so makes amends,
Tc caper round his captor kind,
Lithe, supple, like some foster bind.

School'd thou'st been in devil's art,
I've never seen one act this part.
I've heard of Rarey and his tricks,
But this so far excels the freaks

166

Of every actor Hengler has,

And makes us think and thoughtful pause,

Of what dominion man uiaj- claim

O'er ilesh and blood in either frame.

Thy brother near I've ever been,

Thou wilt repeat this famous scene.

I do expect to share thy secret,

Thou knowest me well in word discreet,

This power thou wield o'er ecjuine breed,

And how thy mind with mysteries feed.

J ! (!

*' 'III*

Lone on the highway came I fast,

Nor scarce the quarries had I past,

That yield such granite of renown

That city, hamlet, village, town

Stand incomplete without its facing

Red, white and black a handsome tracing.

'Twas just the hour one might say,

It is not night but parting day.

Some untrain'd oaths struck on my ear.

And I could hear a voice so clear

Say : " Money, dam your high salute,

I'm neither gent nor full a brute.

Shell out, thou Jew, I know ye're shamming,

I'll use my crack, I'm tired of damning.

I'll send thy soul fast to perdition,

Nor prayer can mend thy mean condition.

Pay first thy footing o'er the bourne.

Then I will help thy kith to mourn."

I had a whip with leaden head,

That Stankey cunning for me made.

With it I thought all odds to face.

Knife, garrote, pistol, aye a brace.

I sprang nigh half the brambles through,

To run the thread well off the clew,

1(17

And mark my victim for tlie knout,
As cautious, cunning Indian scout.
His left hand held an unsheathed knife,
With which he dar'd the wanderer's life ;
Whilst hand to right grasped gurgling throat,
He hissed : '* I'll sell thee for a groat.
Where is thy wallet, Abraham ?
Quick, shell out, I'll stand a dram.''

At this with single blow I felled,
And from his victim fear dispelled,
He begged me not repeat the dose
Or he forever must repose
A murder'd man without the pale
Of Christian solace in this dale.

We rifltd for his dangerous kit.

Whilst tight his hands with twine we knit,

And by the neck we knotted fast

This robber to the springs steel cast,

And dragged him back to Peterhead,

That fed he be with dry stale bread.

While thus my story's lengthen'd out

About this cad, this highway lout.

My prot6g^ had begged to be

My guard, my guest and Domina? ;

That he had secrets dearth to give

For poor return that he didst live ;

At my request he'll share with me

The gifts great Allah didst decree

That he should wield o'er horse unbarbed,

That roams the desert undisturbed.

A sheik from far Arabia wild.
Of noble bearing, proud but mild,
Had travel'd Europe far and near,
Then ocean took at Hamburg pier.

¥r

168

On great Euphrates he had met
A subject of our mighty state,
Who taught him English high, impure
Which puzzled sore this stoic Moor,
On hearing Scotch in lowland tongue,
In sweet 'naivete said and sung.

That I've been paid in diamond coin
For slight such favours with a fine
I never lain, but self imposed.
This Saracen so kind reposed
In me the art you saw succeed
With colt of truest ecjuine breed.

[d s

Now by the grace of him we live,
To cone this secret dare I give
Till on the bed of death I'm laid,
And hast to nature all but paid
Her just rewards full time expended,
And past the 'lotted years extended :
Ere none with me played nip and tuck,
Or tried our hansel penn}' luck
With gipsy queen to fortune learn.
That I this secret would discern,
But to thyself, dear Cosmos kind.
And leave the others dumb and blind.

Now with this fond scene I must bid adieu,
Whose happy omens lent me fif-st the cue
To wily fortune in her tricks with man,
How perseverance means success to every plan.
And with the sails of contentment full
We'll buffet waves on every sea and pool.
But mark ye, Cosmos, I pose not ii sage
Though mankind in general do at tvtrj' age.

■

169

CANTO VIII.

Be thou our guest another night,
That we may not thy welcome blight :
Thou must a share of all our hearts
Take o'er the seas to foreign parts j
Nor dare a seed of doubt implant
Ere pure thy facile'mind avaunt.

Our kith by stern law undone
Must not of all the sins we shun
A victim be in hour of hope.
To dire neglect nor friendship lope.
It gnaws so hungry at the heart,
A wolf devouring conscious part.

Unpay the court this place renown'd,
Knough to honour'd name confound,
For through the varied tread of time
All hath been served with bread and wine,
And comforts of the night enhanced
When with the household they had danced.

Why, honoured aunt, thyself so fret ?
Thou hast reserves to pay the debt.
Whilst obligations light incurr'd
None hath by thee so far demurr'd
To share such pleasure with thy guest,
As might this mansion's honour test.

Now, daughter, matron of our house,
Thou must not fuss and feeling touse.
The laddie's guide through every throng
Are genii friendly heard in song,
Who leads him where he's wont to go
Among the scenes of friend and foe.

1 1

170

Hence all the triumph of our meet
Is shared alike with him so fleet,
Who loves to dance with stars to morn
And naught for all is ever worn.
Besides, with cousins of his age
He'll wish nor want a pawky page.

Oh ! aunty, to my father dear,
And mother to this aunt sincere,
Thou cause me blush before I know
How far has yet my heart to go.
For I must strain my feelings true
So far from her as well as you.

Nor hours again must I repeat
In frolic at my cousin's feet,
But bear my burden heav}' far,
To view her still my vespei star.

'Tis hard an exile to impose,
But I myself respect might lose,
And set misfortune v\\^sa.ing
To 'crastinate such rr&dertaking.

Come, I)urj,an, we must visit pay
Our cousins. '»n the Loggie bay.
Thou wilt a seat beside me take,
While Patrick, he will drive the brake ;
And, Annie, thou must share, my dear
Our welcome sport and joy sincere.
For we shall sail the waters blue,
Nor zephyrs e'er so balmy blew
As fills the sails of Boris' yacht,
Whilst we trim the keel a fraught.

I'll wander ne'er again this moon,
Yet might my spirit follow soon,
To hover Bess right o'er the water.
Whilst thou for Boris' guide the cutter

171

Why, Annie, thou dost fret, my child.
With Duncan o'er the mountains wild
Thoii'lt ride this day, so fortune guide
Thee down by Ebrie's silvery tide,
To glint at Arnage dreamy neuk,
And wandering wade the limpid brook,
Whilst Bess will drive to Ythan side
And wait till ye through Ellon ride,
As Duncan round his footing pry
And say to kith and kin good-bye.

For mount the stable be thy choice,
Nor need we toss a box of dice.
Bucephalus, he shall be thy steed.
And learn thy hand to bit in need ;
And when the water shade ye gain,
By hostler send him back again.
Thus full we'll prove the Arabian tale,
Then for thy art I will go bail.

Were I some trooper Cosmos lad,
Horseguard trained in bounty clad,
Nor man, nor steed guards ancient pile, *
'Twill shame Bucephalus ere a while.
Since faith ye placed so frank in me,
My heart and hand I will set free
To serve my cousin chevalier.
Nor of thy steed have fret or fear.

Keen hast thou, sister, waked a feeling
In mother's breast with pout a dealing.
And now I see who hath the claim,
'Twill in my mind assume a frame
That ne'er his face reflects again,
Nor on my memory leave a stain,

* This reference is iu;i(le to tlie alrao-it immovaMe horseguard who stands
like a piece of eiiuestriau statiuiry at tlie gates ot the oM buil^ling In Lou-
don.

172

Whilst proud thy heart doth overflow
And cause thee pain where'er he go,
Unlinked in mind and hand with thee,
Decree'd a mariyr fates I'll be.

Sweet sister, noble, self-denying,
Deep's thy ken in friendly prying
To see the cloud dark forming fast,
So dire must end in Boreas' blast.
To sweep the fertile fields agrowing,
Uproot thy shelter in its blowing.
And leave thee lone a hermit flower
To catch a wandering April shower.

Who would not proud of sister be,
Whose feelings stream so warm on thee ?
Yet stanch the glow of passion's flame
Which boded once a heart to claim.
So pent in bonds of faithful love,
Strong caged in fancy dowuest dove,
As preen'd thy feathers in despair,
And cause our friendship once repair.

li!

This ring, dear sister, on my hand,
Thou canst the kindness now withstand,
A gift my brother made to me.
Come, draw it on thy finger three.
Yest'reeu, e'er heaven so full displayed
Her luminous brilliants o'er the dead,
He heard the glove misfitted me,
So deem'd it meet it should fit thee.
To make amends;he gave nie this •
Now, take the gift ; give mi a kiss.
The talismanic bond shall be
Sweet thoughts of him far o'er the sea.
Who viewed the garden's rullled scene.
Where feelings of our sister queen

173

Was dragged before a scorching sun
When troth his heart then all but won.
But think ye not I'm callous grown,
Though wild the seeds of love were sown.
A through the fields I dare net claim
Adown the rigs the ploughman's aim,
And now the harvest's gathered in,
The granary of my dearest kin ;
And I will sweep the floors so clean,
That clear distracted tares be seen.

It's strong the wish of parents dear,
And luck betide it's not leap year.
Since Clotho's shears hath cut the knot,
I'll wander lonely unbesought.
And, Annie, I will comfort thee
Whilst Duncan roves across the sea.
So dry thy contrite tears unsoiled
By fallow years so ill beguiled.
We'll ne'er this scene rehearse again
Whilst, dear, thy name unchanged remain.