I LIBRARY Nivmin < CALIKXTNIA LAYSwLYRICS e MRS. jf' K? r LAWSON ore TORONTO : WILLIAM BRIGGS 1913 CopyriEht, Canada, 1913, by MRS. J. K. LAWSON CONTENTS PART I. PAGE / THE EVOLUTION OF WOMAN 5 THE QUEST OF ABT 12 OH, TO BE GODS IN BABYLON 15 THE FLIGHT OF LOVE 18 " JERUSALEM THE GOLDEN " 20 LITTLE MAY 22 AFTEBGLOW 23 THE CONQUEST OF SIB CIRCUMSTANCE 24 THE AWAKING OF COLUMBIA 27 THE POET 30 . THE COLONIES ON THE ISOLATION OF ENGLAND - - 31 SILENCE 33 QUID REFEBT? 35 DIVIDED 36 TILL THEN 38 / ONLY ONCE - . . - 40 NEVERTHELESS 42 ST. MONAN'S, FIFE 44 ' "DusT TO DUST" 47 A GREY PILGRIM 48 A VAIN APPEAL 50 THE ENOCH OF TO-DAY 52 IN THE PLACE OF SOULS 54 REMONSTRANCE 58 ON THE VELDT 59 A WREATH OF ASPHODEL 62 " HEREDITY 64 THE GRAVEN RUNE 65 ONE SABBATH EVE IN ST. MONAN'S 68 ESTRANGED 70 FOUNDERED AT SEA 71 022 CONTENTS PAGE So SHALL YE BE THE CHILDREN OF YOUR FATHER IN HEAVEN 72 ANIMATED PICTURES 73 TELEPATHY 75 No MORE 76 ON A PICTURE OF THE MADONNA 77 LOVELIGIIT 79 REMENYI 80 GOOD-NIGHT 81 PART II. THE BIRTH OF BURNS 83 THE HILLS o' SCOTLAND - - 87 IN PAIR CANADIE - - - - - - - - 89 EVERGREEN ----------90 ST. MONAN 91 A SECRET 93 / A HANDSHAKE 95 SIN' SYNE 96 A MOTHER'S PRAYER 98 SUN AND SHADOW 100 AEOLIAN 102 SPEAK YE KINDLY Noo 104 MY AIN AULD TOON 105 . THE OLD FISHERMAN 106 " JOUK, AND LET THE JAW BY " 108 AN' OH, THE MERLE SANG CLEAR 110 OH, BONNIE BURN 112 AN IDYLL OF THE PLOUGH 114 THE WEARIFU' SILLER 116 IN ST. ENOCH'S SQUARE, GLASGOW 118 JAMIE DALE AN' ME 120 "ARE OOR FOLK IN?" 122 4 LAYS AND LYRICS PART I. THE EVOLUTION OF WOMAN I. UPON a gentle slope in Eden old Slept Adam, first of men ; ( His origin by Darwin has been told, But this the task of quite another pen, To tell how woman was evolved and when). When Adam first to consciousness awoke, The wonder of it all ! The sky the sea the birds that silence broke, The trees so green and tall, The fragrant peace soft brooding over all ! The animals, strange, restless, breathing things, With liquid eyes; That in his steps with wistful following Came fitfully; the bright sun-glancing wings Cleaving the skies. 5 LAYS AND LYRICS The wonder of it all was so entrancing, Held with its spell, He saw the lambkins in the meadows prancing, The merry gnats in the long sunbeams dancing, Brooks in the dell. The beauty of the vision filled his soul, Man's hour had come! Suns set, and night unfurled her starry scroll, Thought dawned and through his brain began to roll, But he was dumb. His hunger he appeased with pleasant fruit, But in his heart There woke another hunger, voiceless, mute As is the music in an untouched lute Lying apart. He was alone and felt his loneliness ; Only in sleep He knew a something sweeter far than this, A full completeness he did, waking, miss, But could not keep. 6 THE EVOLUTION OF WOMAN To explain this strange phase of his history; When his first sigh Was heard in Heaven's great whispering-gallery, Which still surrounds earth with its mystery, One spake on high: " Lo ! I am Love, and for my love prepare Creatures to fill my sole necessity; Because of this, my love, they are and were All things that live on earth, in sea and air, But chiefly man heir of eternity. " Go therefore thou, my gentlest spirit mild, Thou of the beauteous brow and loving eye; In Eden's garden hover near my child, My first of men, born of the ages wild, Unto him minister in sleep be nigh." This was the presence subtle, unconfined. Which Adam felt. The unconscious influence of mind on mind Causing him with longing undefined To glow and melt. 7 LAYS AND LYRICS It troubled him; a sadness vague and strange Haunted his face; The angel, pitying, noted the wan change, And round him close would sheltering wings arrange With pitying grace. At last it grew so, he would moan and sigh In sore unrest: His gentle guardian, watchful, saw his eye Now bent on earth now raised toward the sky, With grieving breast. Seeing him thus, the Angel saddened too, Though 'twas amiss; Desire to comfort Adam woke and grew, Till one day o'er him her warm wings she threw, And pressed a kiss. A shock magnetic vivified his frame With magic verve, And with a thrill that never yet knew name, Though most men once in life have felt the same, Leapt every nerve. 8 THE EVOLUTION OP WOMAN Athwart his soul's profundity of sadness A rainbow gleamed. Stole o'er his senses an unwonted gladness, A new delight, half bordering on madness, And thus he dreamed ! A vision ravishing, most lovely, chaste, One such as he had seen ; Like, yet unlike, when in the mirrored waste Of tranquil waters he beheld, amazed, Himself amid the scene. The joy awoke him with a blissful start, When lo ! sweet wondering eyes Looked into his. He knew his better part And with ripe instinct drew her to his heart In rapture loving-wise. "Oh my beloved! where wert thou concealed?" He cried in bliss. Till now the lips of Adam had been sealed, But speech broke forth when Woman was re- vealed In loveliness. 9 LAYS AND LYRICS II. The Angel when her lips did Adam's touch, Strange sense of loss A consciousness of having given too much, Instinctive made her swiftly turn to clutch Her wings across. But lo! the wings were gone! And with them fled All memory! Before her Adam slept on mossy bed, With smiling lips, and arm-empillowed head, A mystery! A woman now, an angel nevermore, Even so Eve stood ; In wondering innocence on Time's far shore, While Adam clasped and kissed her o'er and o'er, In rapturous mood. But ah ! her spirit vision, pure and keen, Was lost for aye; Evil could now in Eden creep unseen, To mar the charm of each delightful scene And cloud the day. 10 THE EVOLUTION OF WOMAN Then spake the Voice : " O spirit, not lost, but strayed From Heaven's estate; Since not through aught but love thou thus art made, An angel in humanity arrayed, Be Adam's mate. " And this thy punishment to love and weep, Because of love; Forever to bequeath with sorrow deep, The kiss that Adam woke from loveless sleep In Eden's grove. " Yet, to console thee down the ages long, I name by thee All that to strength and beauty doth belong ; Thus Truth, Grace, Wisdom, in immortal song, Shall feminine be." 11 THE QUEST OF ART SHE called to him from out the sea, He saw her beckon everywhere, In azure gleam of rifted cloud, In shadows melting o'er the mere; On hills where languid Summer lay, In vales where waters laughed aloud, And all the warm and slumbrous day, Where tree bent whispering to tree, Leaf-shadow-elves danced merrily. " Go to, go to, heed not the dream ; How shall men live if not by bread? "Tis but a will-o'-wisp's fell gleam ; Let bread suffice." So ran the rune; So spake the voices of the dead; The dead who sit by the hearthstone, The folk who live by bread alone. Their hand was on him. " Lo ! the way Our feet have trod lies smooth and straight. Walk thou therein, nor from it stray; So shalt thou safely reach the grave." ' 12 THE QUEST OF ART But o'er their heads he saw the wave, Clear jasper shot with sunset gold, Aglow in Heaven's wide western gate, And scarce his rapture deep controlled; The glory filled his soul with awe, For there again her smile he saw, And heard behind the tranquil hills - The ceaseless music of the rills. And still the vision haunted him, Still held the voice his soul in thrall; No more a fitful, phantom call, As from the emerald isles of Spring, When leaf and bloom are bourgeoning ; But in his soul's recesses dim, A sigh as from a twilight sea, A yearning unto agony. " Oh, what is life unto the dead, And what to me availeth bread, The while my inner self, unfed, Perisheth?" he cried, and fled. A lone soul, isolate in clay, Shaping perforce his destiny. 13 LAYS AND LYRICS Then they who sit by the hearthstone, The folk who live by bread alone, Bewailed him sadly, day by day; So dark and drear the road he took, So wounded were his eager feet, Upon the stony, upward way. No more by flowery straths that lay, But strange and tortuous ways of men. Yet not once backward did he look, The inner soul-life grew so sweet, So sweet the smile he ever saw On Art's fair face. Yea, all past pain He counted bliss for joy and awe, When, ending all his eager quest, She came to him ; no transient guest, No more elusive, fitful, far, A flash flung from a wandering star; But as with light divine revealing All mystery, all truth, all feeling, His dream by night, his bliss by day, By right of conquest, his for aye! 14 OH, TO BE GODS IN BABYLON ! " THE gods abide in Babylon, Of old they came to Babylon; Footsore, by green-hedged country roads; Mere men were they in plain attire; Oft scant their fare, and chill their fire, But when they died, men crowned them gods ; Let us, too, go to Babylon." So spake the lads who would be gods, Three lads who went to Babylon. All through the night the snorting steam, Unto the city of their dream, With clank and jumble, jolt and stand, Held on, while past them fled the land; Fled streams and meadows, hills and downs ; Fled lochs and forests, hamlets, towns, Till set the moon, and paled the stars, And dawn unfurled Babylon. 2 15 LAYS AND LYEICS The majesty of Babylon! The mystery of Babylon! Her stately years, like laden wains, Piled high with efforts, failures, hopes, And sheaf on sheaf of fruitless gains, Moved slowly down life's harvest slopes; Time, heavy-footed, led them on, But Youth, outworn, a-top lay prone. Old grew the lads in Babylon. The first: him Pleasure whispered fair, About him blew her Vildering hair, Her glamour circled him like flame, He ceased to strive, forgot his aim, And woke at last, a soul beshorn, Himself unto himself forsworn. Dull, dull as doom the city's roar, Where sink the souls who rise no more, In the deep, deep dark of Babylon. And one with all too tender eyes Saw but the wrong to heaven that cries; The smoke of men's vain torment rose, And dimmed all else but human woes; Nor hope, nor help, on any hand, A stone, this heart of Mammonland. 16 OH, TO BE GODS IN BABYLON! O sun- bathed hills, were ye a dream? O fields of youth! O flower-fringed stream! Out of the fog, and home to die, He, gasping, fled from Babylon. Through toilsome years, by stony roads, One reached the dwelling of the gods; The silences that brood alway In Thought's vast temple, domed by day ; Here found he strength, and soul-increase, In work knew rest, in tumult peace. Here burned his lamp, and lo ! its ray Shone o'er the world from Babylon. 17 THE FLIGHT OF LOVE A WIND in the wood went wailing, As slow the sun sank down; A voice in the wind prevailing, " O Love, how art thou flown !" And the old, old hills, with feet moss-grown, The old cry heard, and from each throne Sent back an echo wailing, " O Love, how art thou flown !" A sound from the sea came wailing, As slow the moon uprose ; A voice in the tide prevailing, The tide that ebbs and flows: " O Love, how art thou flown ! Thou wert so sweet, so sweet, And life so fleet, so fleet. What wouldst thou more than soul for soul?" Sobbed the long waves that shoreward roll, " O Love, how art thou flown !" I heard the wind, and I heard the sea, And surely they were but a part of me ; 18 THE FLIGHT OF LOVE The wail of the wind and the sob of the sea, Woke the old pain, broke the heart of me ; O hush thee, Wind; be still, sad Sea, Love will never, ah, never, coine back to me. And still the wind goes wailing Through the lone aisles of the years, While smiles the moon, and all the tides Are tides of human tears. For love still comes, and love still goes; Day brings no joy, night no repose, And deep in the heart the hurt abides, While sigh the winds, and moan the tides, " O Love, how thou art flown !" 19 "JERUSALEM THE GOLDEN" (On hearing the hymn sung in church.) OH, land of life ! oh, land of love ! Oh, land of bliss eternal ! What mortal hand shall reach above And quench thy light supernal? Oh, gates of pearl, where mortals lay Earth's burdens by forever; Oh, streets of gold whose shining way Leads by the crystal river! Oh, wondrous light, whose rays stream down, And flood death's vale with glory! Oh, victor's palm! Oh, martyr's crown! Oh, ever sweet old story ! Ah me! these days how wise we've grown! We search the place of thunder; Beliefs upon the winds have strewn, And creeds have torn asunder. But ah ! learned sirs, life is so hard, In spite of all our science ; 20 " JERUSALEM THE GOLDEN " So much remains to hurt, retard, So little worth reliance. So vain our growing care to mark All things with wider vision, With but the grave, so deep, so dark, To swallow life's fruition. Yet one quaint hymn, a sweet old strain From out the vanished ages, Hope's lost keynote rings out again With power unknown to sages. In clarion tones it sings the life For which strong souls have striven, Till earth its sorrows, sin and strife- Recedes, and lo! the Heaven! 21 LITTLE MAY AH! well-a-day, our little May, With eyes so blue, and hair so brown, And heart so light, she strayed away O'er the clover fields to the distant town. She strayed away our little May, With eyes so blue, and hair so brown; For the fields were lone and the town was gay, And one stood waiting out over the down. She strayed away our little May With eyes so blue, and hair so brown; Her mother looked out where the great town lay, And sighed as the years passed over the down. At last one day was it little May? Her eyes were blue, and her hair so brown; The hair of this weary woman was grey, Who knelt by a grave this side of the down. " Ah ! woe the day !" sighed the woman grey, " When with eyes so blue and hair so brown And heart so light I strayed away O'er the clover fields to the weary town." 22 AFTERGLOW IT is the twilight time of rest, From yonder wood there comes no song; The hills loom dark, yet in the west The golden glory lingers long. Nt)w, as with pencil etched, I see The dim housetops, the distant spire, The tracery of twig and tree, The light from many a household fire Against the ether blue and cold, The few faint silver stars among; While deepening, reddening, o'er the wold, The golden glory lingers long. Ah, me! my love, mine absent love! Thy face hath faded from my day; ? Tis twilight gloom, around, above, And chill the night winds round me play. Yet with thy memory I am blest, I see thy face, I hear thy song, And in the deep heart of my west The golden glory lingers long. 23 THE CONQUEST OF SIR CIRCUM- STANCE SIR CIRCUMSTANCE rode through the land On his gaunt steed, Povertie. " Here shall ye dwell, here shall ye stand, And neither fight nor flee." The folk were cattle-creature folk, Who followed where he led, They smiled to hear the grim old joke, 'Twas mouldy as the dead. For who can fight withouten Or flee with wings clipt close? No fight was in them, no alarms, No sense, alas! of loss. But one day from the herd broke one, Out o'er the fields he flew; Sir Circumstance beheld him run, With eyes of wrath and rue. 24 THE CONQUEST OF SIR CIRCUMSTANCE Then straightway he, with whip and shout, Upspurred gaunt Povertie; The rebel heard the angry rout, But ne'er look back did he. All through the day o'er rocks and sands, Beneath a cruel sun, Through length and breadth of barren lands, He chased that stubborn one. But ever as the creature ran, More and more like he grew In shape and stature to a man Who lacks nor brain nor thew. More and more like, as ditch and dyke He leaped, while down the wind A mocking laugh flew keen to strike The ear of him behind. And still the race, the bitter chase, Held on, till in the West The sun stood up with round, red face, As wondering at the quest. 25 LAYS AND LYRICS Till in the shadow of the hills, Where, through the meadows green, The murmurous music of the rills Gladdens the quiet scene, The tireless quarry slackened speed, Turned, laughed, gripped bit and rein, And back on his haunches bore the steed, With his rider upon the plain. " You thought me a cattle creature," said he, "Could neither run nor strive, Good sooth, your chasing hath made of me A man with his soul alive. " Now, foot on neck, I bid you yield ; Henceforth, I pipe, you dance, Fight in my foray, plough my field." " I yield," said Sir Circumstance. 26 THE AWAKING OF COLUMBIA (1898) COLUMBIA at the feast of life sat stately, calm, . elate ; Smiled Peace within her borders, smiled Plenty at her gate; At her full table from all lands, driven forth by direst need, The peoples of old Europe sat down in peace to feed. O'erflowed the wine of plenteousness, abundance there of bread; Columbia called them children all, as on the full years sped, Nor care had she for lands o'er sea, so she but held her own; Scant reverence for empty pomp, for king, or court, or throne. The nations over-seas looked on; they saw her sons at play ; The goal was gold they raced for it unshamed the livelong day. They strove for it, they strained for it, and still the few who won Most miserable ever were of all men 'neath the sun. 27 LAYS AND LYRICS And still Columbia smiled, and still she feasted and she slept; The nations whispered, " Death-in-life hath to her vitals crept; The lust of gold hath slain her soul; she is cor- rupt within." So spake the nations, while each hugged her own especial sin. Columbia slept, till through her dream of peace there rang a cry A cry as of a people crushed, thrust out to starve and die. Columbia woke; Columbia rose; forth from its scabbard drew The too-long sheathed Excalibur, the sword that Slavery slew. She spoke ; across the mighty seas the lightnings bore her word : " Hear, O proud nation, who forgets that God He is the Lord ; The peoples of these lands whom ye oppress are His, and ours, By fatherhood and brotherhood, those whom your hate devours. 28 THE AWAKING OF COLUMBIA " Cease to oppress, out from this land, or by His might who gave, This sword of mine shall make the land you long have cursed, your grave. Too long the cruel fires of Spain have faggots made of men; Too long your devil-pride hath scorned all pleas of tongue or pen. " Daughter of her who laid you low and brought you to your knees, Who laughed to scorn your pride, and drove your galleons from the seas, Old England's child, shall I belie the race of which I come, And when humanity appeals, be blind, and deaf, and dumb? " No, by my faith ! Here on this rock of right I stand, nor doubt That as we stamped out Slavery, so shall we stamp you out." The nations heard, and said, " She may be over- fond of gold, But at the core Columbia is Columbia of old." 29 THE POET His eyes beheld the vision limned, Of fair Elysian fields where dwell The Gods r once men 'mong men, their spell On Earth by time nor age undimmed. There walked the sons of wisdom fair; Earth's greatest once accounted small Singers and seers, Truth's lovers, all With youth immortal crowned there. Souls strung like an Aeolian lyre, Through which all winds could sing and moan ; Whose music, pitched to rapture tone, Rouse men to Pentecostal fire. Some who but sang a simple song, Whose subtle sweetness thrills through Time, As thrills the sailor's heart some chime By soft home-breezes borne along. Oh, then with instinct deep and true, He knew his own soul's kith and kin, Yet dreamt not ever he might win Those fields Elysian crowned too. 30 THE COLONIES ON THE ISOLATION OF ENGLAND Ho, Rooshian Bear, and Parleyvous, Bill Kaiser and the rest of you Who plot and scheme and trouble brew To harry Mother England: A whisper in your ear, you there, If you know beans, keep on your hair; Seem's like you fellows ain't aware There's more'n you think to England. The time was when she stood alone, And downed the world, and cried, " Come on !'' And that was, too, ere we had grown To call her " Mother England." You 'spose that little isle in the surf Is all of her though that were enough? Don't you forget when you bully and bluff, We, too, we and we, are England. 3 31 LAYS AND LYRICS You 'spose she's weaker now than then? Now that we, grown in brawn and brain, Say, " Look-a-here, our swords, our men, Our lives, are yours, dear England"? Millions strong at the very first toot Of -the trumpet over seas to scoot, And smash every durned foreign galoot Who dares point a gun at England. From lands o' the sun, from lands o' the snow, From lands above her, from lands below, We'll whiten the seas with our ships that go To the help, to the help of England. More : Were that plucky old isle some day To drop in the sea like a stone in the bay, England would live, ay, and bear the sway, In the race and the stuff which is England. So, as we remarked, you, Mister Czar, Herr Bill, and the rest, you stay where you are, Or there's going to be high jinks on this here star, And the one to go down won't be England. 32 SILENCE SILENCE is death. Sullen it broods a tideless sea, Where float dim shapes afar from human ken ; And voices call in fruitless agony, Dear names across a void that echoes not again. No sweet and blessed sound of pulsing life, Bird song, leaf whisper, pour of summer rain Stirs the dull stagnance of that viewless main; Hushed e'en the clang and clash of Nature's strife In the long woe of silence. Silence is death. 'Tween human hearts it burrows deep a grave, And therein buries that which it hath slain Fair Friendship Love and there is none can save. For that which silence blights lives not again, 33 LAYS AND LYBICS Not being hurt by any swift, hot blow By passion dealt, that kinder speech might heal; But starves, and droops, and pines, nor can reveal The inner hurt, the cruel, wasting woe, The voiceless woe of silence. Silence is death. Oh, what have we of living speech and breath To do with deathly silence, when to-day The veil may drop between us, and dumb death End all kind speech, and all that we would say Be left unsaid forever? Hear me, my own, Nay, let me speak while yet I may, " I love you; Morn, noon, and night, and evermore, I love you." Kemember this, when sad you fare alone, And I, mute in the silence. 34 QUID REFERT ? " Heartily know, When half -gods go, The gods arrive." Emerson. " When half -gods go, the gods arrive." But oh, Serene Sage of the West, AVas it the pain of thine own breast Taught thee from loss gain to derive? And do the gods, arriving, bring Gifts in their hands, nepenthe, sleep, So we no more may vainly weep But cease for aye our sorrowing? Shall they to us, bereft, become All that the dear half-gods had been, Ere faith had failed, ere love grew numb, Ere mists rose up, our souls between? Shall they, the gods, assuage the woe That withers us when half -gods go? 35 DIVIDED (An Old Allegory.) OH, fair that early yestermorn; In cloudless blue the lark sang high, And sweet the breath of flower and thorn, As forth we wandered, you and I. Then at our feet a brook sang low, iSo small we joined our hands across ; It widened ; we with smiles let go, Nor felt as yet a sense of loss. Alas ! Ere noon we saw, dismayed, The brook swell to a river wide; No white sail on its breast displayed, Nor bridge across its sullen tide. No going back; Life's paths we cross But once; once through, swings shut the gate, And gain is gain, and loss is loss, And knowledge comes, alas, too late. DIVIDED Low sinks the sun; hushed are the winds; No more the bird sings overhead; Day's dying finger slowly binds Eve's quiet brows with bands of red. Yet on far twilight shores we stand, Divided still by that dim sea ; Nor ever more shall hand clasp hand, Or love be love for you and me. 37 TILL THEN SOME day, beloved, when this house of mine, Outlived, I leave behind, and forth repair Whither God will, in spirit realms benign, Until your coming makes even Heaven more fair, Say not, " My love is dead ; can love no more." Where souls are wedded Death but quickens Love. And shall I, while you tarry on this shore, Forget you in the soul-land far above? Nay ! There, beloved, I shall breathe your name, And softly thrilling through your sleep 'twill fall; Nor shall you wonder whence the whisper came, But answer, as your wont, " Love, did you call?" TILL THEN And I shall float adown to where you lie, And take your hand, and far away we'll go Over dream hills under a blue dream sky, Till waking, you will sigh, " Would it were so." Till, one vague dawn, so wandering, we shall hear Earth voices whispering " The spirit's fled," And you, for very joy that I am near, Will clasp me " Love, I dreamed that you were dead." 39 ONLY ONCE ONLY once through this world we go, Only once! A little lower than angels we, Wingless, indeed, but with feet to tread The paths of duty where'er they lead, O'er dizzy cliff or darkened sea ; Dreeing life's medley of weal or woe Only once! Only once through this world we go, Only once! Blessing or curse to it which are we? Who shall be better for you or me? Who made happier? Who from despair Lifted to hope? With whom do we share Burdens too great for the back to bear? Since we but once through this world go? Only once! 40 ONLY ONCE Only once through this world we go, Only once! And no place found for repentance when self Bartering the best in him merely for pelf, Living in ease at humanity's cost, Finds when too late that his soul is lost, Since only once through this world we go, Only once! NEVERTHELESS THE heavens above, how far! Were we to live for aye, No nearer were our star Unto yon Milky Way. As moves the earth in air, As float fish in the sea, Encompassed everywhere, So we, in mystery. The upheaved hills sit dumb, They know not how nor why, From ocean depths, they come To gaze on a dumb sky. Earth is a vast green grave, Its dust, the dust of men; All that it ever gave It taketh back again. 42 NEVERTHELESS The generations come, The generations go; Of life this is the sum, And ever hath been so. Yet, oh, how sweet the rose ! The grape on the Autumn vine! Love in the heart that glows! And the kiss of those lips of thine ! 43 ST. MONAN'S, FIFE THERE it rests, with its back to the brae, The jumbled, zigzag, grey old town; Roofs red and brown, roofs purple and grey, Blue-dim through reek from the chimneys blown. Roofs slanting, triform, jutting, square, With skylights yawning wide for air, And gables gables everywhere. Low in the lap of the land it lies, On the knees of the shore serene and grey, The earth's green arms about it thrown, Its feet on the rocks where the seamew flies; And ever with mournful monotone, Ebbing and flowing the sea tides sway, Ebbing and flowing forever and aye. Dark on the sunset's ruddy gold, The old church-tower on the western height; The sturdy church, six centuries old, 44 ST. MONAN'S, On the edge of the wave with the town in sight ; Where pray the living, where find repose The generations whom no man knows. Boats in the harbor, nets on the brae, Sunbrowned fishers upon the pier; Women, light-ankled, deft-handed, gay, Keady to answer with joke or jeer; Children who make the old village ring With the games they play, the songs they sing. Oh, here life steps to a heartsome strain, Each for the love of them works for his own, And not for any man's single gain, For a master's profit to sweat and groan. And blithely the sails with a stout " Yo ho !" To the mastheads rise as they outward go. Come luck, come lack, one deal to each, Nor fear nor favor the fisher knows As he sails away from the happy beach When the fish are rife and a fair wind blows ; And what though a grave in the sea his lot? Holds it one hollow where God is not? 45 LAYS AND LYRICS Ah, still do I dream of that grey old shore, Its murmuring waves, its sheltering calm; The hearty speech and the open door, And the welcome word that fell like balm; Till over my soul, in a flood-tide free, My long-lost faith flowed back to me; Yea, the heart of my youth I found in thee, O grey St. Monan, beside the sea. 4G "DUST TO DUST' " DUST to dust." Ay, dust to dust, But what a world there lies between, Of frustrate hopes, of failing trust, Of dreams of all that might have been. What striving after earthly gain, What conflict in the ceaseless fray, What songs of joy, what cries of pain, What falls, what triumphs day by day ! What care to keep the footsteps straight, What stepping to avoid the mire, What elbowing through the narrow gate, What fanning of the heavenly fire! Ere safely here we rest at last, With silent lips and idle hands, Life's cares, life's labors overpast, The soul slipped through her loosened bands. O ashes pale of life's quenched fires! O heart once quick with love's sweet pain ! What joy was thine, what anguish dire, Ere dust returned to dust again ! 4 47 A GREY PILGRIM A- WEARY, a-weary, a-weary, Ever and alway a-weary ; And O, to lie down in the quiet, still and deep, And sleep, and sleep, and sleep. Par have I come, and deviously have wandered, Over steep hills, o'er plains with rocks be- strewn ; . Many and many u day uncheered, alone; Days of sun, days of rain, days when it thun- dered. Yet never a height too steep, no day I could not outlive ; Love lent springs to my feet. Failure? I scorned the word. Not while there was hill to breast, or stream in spate to ford ; And the bread of mine own labor, so sweet to eat and to give. 48 A GREY PILGRIM For the love of the loved was strength, the loved I called mine own, Ere their faces were turned from me and walls between us rose, And the feeling that all was changed grew as the ill weed grows, And strangers came in to reap the harvests I had sown. Vanity of vanities? Nay, rather would I say 'Twas well to learn life's lessons, grim though they may be; To read aright the mandate, when at last it came to me, To rise and bury self at the parting of the way. 49 A VAIN APPEAL O DEATH ! fell Reaper, stay, oh, stay The ceaseless sweep of thy scythe awhile On these fields of Time by night, by day, Turning white swaths 'neath thy cold, grim smile. Ceaseless thy harvests from land, from sea, From mines where the fire-damp flickers blue, And what the wail of the reft to thee, O Reaper, knowing nor ruth nor rue? The beauteous earth is but one vast grave, The ocean floors with our dead are strewn, The well-beloved, the strong, the brave, Vanish O Reaper, let us alone! Life is so dear to us Love, ah, so sweet ! Here let us abide, we cry, e'en in our pain, Sun, moon, and stars over us, flowers at our feet, Seas, grandeur of mountains O Reaper, re- frain. 50 A VAIN APPEAL Still the scythe swings on and the white swathes fall, And the souls we love float up to God, And vainly we weep and vainly call. Do they hear us, O Death, in their calm abode? 51 THE ENOCH OF TO-DAY "AND Enoch walked with God." So reads The record of a wondrous life, Ages ere dogmas, forms or creeds Had vexed men's souls with blood and strife. And still we speak as though but one E'er trod that unfrequented way ; While here, beneath this century's sun, Lo! Enoch walks with God to-day. Not he who late brings up the rear, On all attacks on vested sin; Joining the ranks at last through fear Of being scorned by those who win ; Who preaches Christ by dint of gold, Labelled by Truth the price of blood ; Not thus did Enoch preach of old, Or soul of man e'er walk with God. But with us, of us, kith and kin ; His step with ours upon the street; 52 THE ENOCH OF TO-DAY In men who choose the nobler way; In earnest women, brave as sweet. With steady will and purpose high, And words of strength upon their lips; Prom platform and from press they cry, Like souls in the Apocalypse. Their feet stand in the people's place, Their voices echo in the land ; Oppression flees and finds no place Who shall their righteous ire withstand? The homes of want, of woe the jails, The hospitals, their footsteps know r ; Through noisome slums, where faints and fails The human soul, with God they go. With God they go, and in His light See souls by men so cheaply priced ; Needs must they up with all the might Of word and deed to prove the Christ. Ah ! think not, though the world be old, And men have left the ancient road, Lost is the pearl or dimmed the gold That Enoch walks no more with God. 53 IN THE PLACE OF SOULS A DREAM. ONCE as from troubled sleep methought I woke, And found myself my living, conscious self Hovering half-dazed above a still white form O'er which my kinsfolk wept. And as I mused, Perplexed how this might be, unto mine ear Floated soft music, eddying wave on wave, In dreamy undulations, holding me in thrall, Till on a zephyrous surge of harmonies I felt upborne into a far, fair land, Whose air, instinct, did throb and palpitate, Life within life, alert, mysterious, pure. And as I gazed in rapt and wondering awe, One stood by me : " Welcome from Earth," said he. " Is not this Earth?" I cried, amazedly, Whereat he smiled : " Nay ! Azrael hath breathed Upon thy mortal form and set thee free ; 54 IN THE PLACE OF SOULS. On Earth they say thou'rt dead." "Dead! Dead!" I mused; " And Paradise? Is it, too, but a dream? Is there no more, no more? These Earth-dimmed eyes, Unveiled by AzraeFs touch, shall they not see One who passed hence into the Place of Souls, Leaving my life unto me desolate?" He spoke, and oh, the radiance of his face ! " The Place of Souls indeed is Paradise. There those who loved on Earth in hope await The coming of the loved, by Azrael borne." Swift with ecstatic thrill up sprang the thought : I, too, had died and come unto the place Whither my love had passed long years agone ; Slipped, even as one behind a curtain slips- Is seen no more. And as a mighty wave At high tide foaming rears, sweeps up the sands, Leaps o'er the rocks resistless to the shore, And breaks, with sighs receding to the main, So o'er me swept remembrance, cruel-sweet; So the old longing for a vanished face Wrung me and bowed me down, till, fired again With impulse born of hope, I turned and prayed : " Take me, I pray thee, to the Place of Souls." 55 LAYS AND LYRICS Then spake my guide, with quiet eyes on mine : "Whom, seekest thou?" " Ah me! I seek my love." Then through a far dim space we floated slow, On gently moving wings that lightly fanned A slunib'rous realm of warmth and odors faint, As in walled gardens when the twilight falls On drowsing roses drooped in dewy sleep; Such soothing calm pervading all the air. That, like a tired child laid upon its bed, I sighed for pure content, till spoke my guide : " How wilt thou in this strange land know thine own?" But I I could but answer with mute smile. As if my love's dear eyes and mine could meet And we not know each other ! He, too, smiled, My thought divining, and straightway it was As if the radiant shining of his face Lit all the entrance to the Place of Souls, Which from afar a nebulous vista seemed, A wondrous shimmering mist of rainbow hues That as I looked, broke, wavered, glowed With ambient light, revealing beauteous shapes, Of fair and glorified humanity. 56 IN THE PLACE OF SOULS Then, as a magnet to the pole is drawn, So drew to me one form, familiar, dear, With hasting feet o'er lessening space that flew Near and more near, till met our eager eyes, And with a cry that thrilled the Place of Souls, We clasped each other as of old once more! " At last, beloved !" Then Ah ! God ! I woke, And found me here on Earth, and thbu, mine own, Still waiting me in that far Place of Souls Which men call Paradise. 57 REMONSTRANCE THIS flower my cruel fingers crush, Can aught restore its bruised bloom, The sweetness of its rare perfume, The beauty of its sun-born blush? Or this cool draught, spilled on the sand, Who shall its freshness gather up? Shall pale lips redden at the cup Overturned by careless hand? The winged jest, with truth keen-tipped, Why aim it at the breast most dear? If Love be slain, availeth then Or mute regret or inward tear? When to life's cheerless close we come, Joyless, and old, and chilled at heart, Shall we not muse why this is so, How we, who loved, fare thus apart? Ah, dearest, let us choose the best; Even as the soul is to the clay, Even as the sun is to the day, Stars to the night, soft sleep and rest To Love, to life, now and alway. 58 ON THE VELDT 1900. THUNDER of guns and smoke, Death and horror of hell, Flash and shrieking shell, Bugle-call, onset, shock. Fury of foes who meet Meet and clash and fall, Rolled among comrades' feet, God beholding all. " What is it for which ye fight, O ye, installed in this land, By My people who gave you space, Asking only of your grace That ye rule as ye would be ruled- With justice : to every race The right of men to be men, Whatever their rank or place? 59 LAYS AND LYEICS " What is it for which ye fight? With My Name on your lips defiled, A whip for the black in your hand, And a kick for the Kaffir child? Ye, in the full years of peace Who brooded and brewed and schemed, Nor rested, nor knew surcease Of hate for My people who said When their hearts failed within them for dread, " Nay, Brothers ! but lift ye your head ; Lo ! your safety we buy with our dead." What was it, O ingrates, ye dreamed, When ye skulked forth and scattered your bribes, 'Mong the peoples and tongues afar, To the wide-flying vulture tribes Who flock where the carcasses are, Saying, " Come ye and teach us to war, On our enemy yours of old, And the land shall be yours, and the gold "? What was it, O ingrates, ye dreamed, When ye plotted and planned and schemed? " Whom do ye fight against With My Name a lie in your mouth? Can ye bar the march of the sun, 60 ON THE VELDT Or the wind that blows from the South, Bringing Spring when Winter is past? Even so, in the teeth of the blast, From their Mother enthroned on the sea, From the ends of the earth as one Tome My people with hope to these lands, To all races the soul of the free, And deliverance out of your hands. And shall ye prevail? Not though mountain and flood Ye yoke to withstand them ; not though they may fall In swaths like the mown grass, while Earth quaffs their blood. "Shall I bring to the birth nor deliver? Shall these who have sought not their own Die vainly, in frustrate endeavor Their life a breath that is blown? >Yho heard the sore cry of their kinsmen 'Behold, we are made less than men!' And marched with the footfall of Freedom, That halts not nor turneth again, Till the day My Will is accomplished, Till justice on earth shall reign. And with whom shall rest the victory, But with those for Freedom slain?" 61 A WREATH OF ASPHODEL I LOVED you why, I knew not; I loved you why, I cared not; Love stays not to enquire Why shines the sun, why falls the rain, Whence springs the heart's desire The bliss that lies in loving and the pain. You loved me why, I knew not ; You loved me why, I cared not, But earth was glorified ; For joy I sang, " Now come what may, No chance of time or tide, Can dim the light of life's sweet day, So love abide." The years came crying " Give," Passed, full and satisfied, With work's strong meat and love's rich wine, With waxing strength and growth divine, And friendship true and tried : Ah ! God ! how sweet to live ! 62 A WREATH OF ASPHODEL. Or when or how it all befell, I know not: 'twas as when a blight Falls on a flower when Autumn night, At dawning, dead, lies hoar and white : It may be that I loved too well. Yet hardly so : Who loves in part Loves not at all. Had I loved less, Had seen more clearly, but, ah, me ! The faults o'erborne by love's duress To others plain, how could I see I who had given you all my heart? Now do you now with vision cleared Of fatal glamor, thrall of sense, Of studied charm, of fair pretence, See all, not as it then appeared, But as it is? Oh, mute lips, say Did not the cost o'erpoise the play? What think you of it all to-day? 63 HEREDITY PREDESTINED unto failure. Striving still With blunted, broken tools to fashion fair The high ideal which is our despair ; Forever foiled by curse of crippled will, That fails us most when most we would fulfil The higher destiny; breasting the slope, Back drawn by phantom hands that strangle hope And turn each aimed-at good into an ill. Yet, who shall say that He whose law runs so That for ancestral lives misspent in sin Shall generations maimed and halting go, And striving ever, never hope to win, May not, in such foregone frustration, see Just claim to live again, not thus foredoomed, but free? 64 THE GRAVEN RUNE LIFE'S lessons we are taught in hieroglyphs, Not in the simple phrases we all know : " Do good and good will follow, do but well And well it shall be with thee evermore/' But in strange symbols before which we stand Dismayed, with dark bent brows and troubled eyes, And hard-clenched hands and hearts that ache to breaking, While Hope and Faith in mute despair uplift Appealing hands to deaf and empty heavens. Lo! still the cross stands grim on Calvary's crown, Still bleeds on it the man who wars on ill, Upholds the good and dares denounce the lie That stalks at noonday in the guise of truth. Rome is no more, yet still doth Caesar pace With crushing step along life's colonnades, Still his gay robe flaunts dazzling in the sun, Still shout the servile crowds, " He is a God." 65 LAYS AND LYRICS While fitfully, as from a sullen sea Whose deeps are stirred by presages of storm, Up to the stars ascends the mingled moan Of trampled millions ; yea, of children reft Of childhood's birthright innocence and joy That Caesar thus may reign. Upon the site of ancient Babylon The dust of centuries hath settled smooth, And desert winds moan there. Yet in fair lands, With Christian temples thronged, stands, as of old, The golden image with the feet of clay; Colossal, stony-eyed, imperious, Adored as ne'er before misnamed " Success." Nor need of King's command to bow the knee, But grovelling before it souls of men. Upon its altar love and youth are slain, The very children taught the withering creed : " Beware the God within you 'ware the Christ, Tempting to self-forgetfulness to love, Not thus men woo Success." A sorry rune the which we daily read ! And high aloof sits he yea, on God's hill Who can, despite the menace it conveys, 66 THE GRAVEN KUNE Preserve his faith undimmed, work, wait and hope, Nor doubt that through the rifted dark where steal Morn's rays, affrighting sore the mole-eyed men Who hug the old barbarities of Time, Still rolls our world to inevitable dawn, Yea, to the radiance of the face of God. 67 ONE SABBATH EVE IN ST. MONAN'S NOVEMBER 22, 1891. IN purple gloom of twilight, With shadows deepening down ; The after-glow of sunset Framing the dim old town, The fishers paced the pier end, With measured rhythmic beat, As though some sea-born music Pulsed in their restless feet. The boats, with tall masts mirrored, Lay on the glistening flood, And high above the harbour The star of evening stood. So still the hour and restful, One hummed a sacred strain; Soon other voices blending Caught up the sweet refrain. 68 ONE SABBATH EVE IN ST. MONAN'S And one, and yet another, Grand hymn of hope and faith, They sang as sing those only Who grapple storms and death. They sang, " Oh, God of Bethel," The music thrilled the air, Far floated o'er the waters, The wanderers' cry and prayer. They sang, " The Lord's my Shepherd," Those children of the sea, As David sang, or later The men of Galilee; With heart and soul assenting, Feeling it ah, so true ! Here conflict, cloud and tempest; There peace beyond the blue. Oh, happy hearts undoubting, Were one to count the cost, Is all we gain in knowing Worth loss of faith and trust? 69 ESTRANGED THUS shall it be even thus and so, Shall day with dull step follow day, When all our years are years of clay, And love's sweet speech no more we know? Our flowers lie blighted all unblown, Our song birds in the trees sit dumb, No more unto life's feasts we come, But, faint for bread, are fed with stone. Through fields that teem, o'er seas that spume, A throbbing world with life aglow, Our joyless ways we listless go, With dull regret and hopeless gloom. Ah, God ! the pity of it all ! The wreckage of the happy years, The loss the unavailing tears The evil wrought beyond recall ! 70 FOUNDERED AT SEA OVER the old pier the wild sea leaps, Over the brown rocks the white spray sweeps, On the horizon a far lone sail Drifts, grey and ghostlike, before the gale. Black is the North as with clouds of night, Ploughed is the sea into furrows white, High o'er the harbour the seagulls wheel, Wildly the tall masts rock and reel. Boats at their moorings creak and strain, Sharp as a whip-lash beats the rain, Fishers ashore in the sheltered lee- Moan, " God help men out in such a sea I" Over the grey pier the wild sea leaps, Over the harbour the salt spray sweeps, But, ah ! my heart ! upon what sad shore Waits Love for the sail vanished evermore? 71 SO SHALL YE BE THE CHILDREN OF YOUR FATHER IN HEAVEN PITY us, O God. We will obey Thee in Thy great command " Love one another" for, oh ! love is sweet, And easy is the yoke, and light the hand It lays upon us : Lo, our willing feet The loveworthy and dear run swift to greet : Patient, forbearing, shall we be, yea blind, Where Nature hath withheld more than is meet; And in such glad obedience ever find A service cheerful, helpful and complete, But bid us not, O God ! like Thee, be kind To the unthankful and unto the evil; Upon the just and the unjust alike Falleth Thy warm sunshine and Thy rain, But how can we, down-borne by clay, be like Thee in Thy greatness of forgiving pain? How clasp the envious hand upraised to strike? How bear the withering lie, nor answer once again? Yet to uprise to this were not in vain, To this the altitude of Godhead fair, The calm ineffable of Heaven's own air. Pity us O God ! 72 "ANIMATED PICTURES" FAINT as the hum of a bumble bee, Floated across the street to me The strains of that grand old melody " Venite adoramus !" Far from the Tiber's yellow foam, Wafting me ah! what dreams of Borne; Thunderous music in Peter's dome: " Venite adoramus !" Alas! o'er the way in the cold and wet, Halt and helpless a poor man sate, Turning a wheezy organette : " Venite adoramus !" Cap on the pavement head to the blast, Mutely appealing to all who passed; Grinding away now slow now fast: " Venite adoramus !" 73 LAYS AND LYRICS A palsied arm, one leg half wood, " Might be worse," quoth-a bravely, " one arm to the good." Which way to turn, come bed, come food: " Venite adoramus !" i Mansions surrounding him, villas in sight, Fair ladies tripping past, rain-proof bedight, Oh ! he'll make the price of a bed for the night ! " Venite adoramus !" The parable picture old as Fate! Still Lazarus sits at the rich man's gate; Hopeful despite his sorry state: " Venite adoramus !" The picture's sequel? Ah! well well; Who's who? what's what? 'twere hard to tell ; But it gives one pause that parable : "Venite adoramus!" 74 TELEPATHY WHEN Day is dead, and Eve broods dim O'er fading scene and sound, When grey haze veils the city, A dream-wall round and round, Soundless as sleep from o'er the sea, Wingeth thy thought through the dusk to me. Kapture of rest on the silent land, On the sea, on the long, lone dune, The moon a-drowse in a dappled sky, Where towers and tall spires swoon, And through the dusk, a homing dove, Thy thought, with rest to me, my love. 75 NO MORE WE two at the core of life together, Howe'er the wind, whatever the weather; Life a delight, and care a feather; Content at the core of life together. A crimson dawn, a weeping day, A leaden sky, a river grey, And one lone shadow upon the plain Cast by the sunset after the rain. And we, no more together. Bright the blue bay in the rainbow weather, Fine the far hills and the sun-flushed heather, But we no more, no more, together. 76 ON A PICTURE OF THE MADONNA O TRUTH, by skill of master Art, In parable depicted here, The cruel sword the pierced heart The grieving lip th' upwelling tear! Fair symbol of the sweet, the kind, Who walk with us the world's highways; Of whom unthinking fools purblind, (Speak heedless words of blame or praise. So blythe her speech, so brave her air, The woman of the stricken heart; We meet her greet her everywhere, Nor dream we she but acts a part. With pleasant word and ready smile Conventional, she weaves a veil To hide her wound, and furth the pale Of hidden smart all eyes beguile. 77 LAYS AND LYRICS With steady step she goes her way, Enduring mute her woman's lot; Or clouds or sun, or grave or gay, There is no land where she is not. Her eyes are like the lonely tarn Amid the hills, in whose dim deeps Of shadowy floor we half discern The strange still life we reck not of; Life that in silence silent grows, In gloom that each fell secret keeps Of drowned things that no more move Down down where sun nor moonbean goes; So in the depths of her calm eyes Lie memories what memories! Yet are there times when all alone Suave good-byes said the last guest gone, Ah! then before her anguished eyes, From years submerged the ghosts uprise; They sit with her and murmur low As in the dear days long ago, When life was sweet, when hands and feet Hastened to further love's behest, Dreaming to wake with cruel smart Remembrance sword thrust through her heart; Questioning was it best? 78 LOVELIGHT IT is the twilight time of rest, From yonder wood there comes no song, The hills loom far, yet in the west The golden glory lingers long. Now in the vale we dimly see The village grey, the tall church spire, The slumberous droop of yonder tree, The glint from many a household fire. High in the ether blue and cold One beauteous star, the star of song, While, reddening out beyond the wold, The golden glory lingers long. Ah me, my love mine absent love Thy face hath faded from my day ; Dim twilight deepens round, above, And sighing night winds round me play. Yet with thy memory I am blest, I see thy face, I hear thy song; And in the deep heart of my west The golden glory lingers long. 79 REMENYI EVENING'S slow deepening, here and there a star, Sweet flowers in fragrant sleep amid the dew, Faint murmur ings from seas whose sunlit blue Unites with skies low bending, dim and far. The whisper of the tide within the bar, Long rifts of crimson cleaving morn's dim haze, Dawn ushering in some glorious day of days, Kemembered, memory-crowned as some days are. Exquisite harmonies caught from Nature's lyre, Music of birds, far torrents rushing free, Sweet angel voices thrilling as with fire, Now glad, now sad, as only love can be. ******* Your magic bow, all this and more to me Inimitably sang Bemenyi ! 80 GOOD-NIGHT THE sunset fades, the world grows grey, On field and tree the color dies, Dim seas moan up to shrouded skies, Fled is the light that graced the day, Good-night ! good-night ! Yet, through the hours of dark and sleep, Still rolls the world around to dawn, Fresh breezes from far oceans blown Up o'er the waking land shall sweep Good-night ! good-night ! But, ah! what dawn shall gild the grey That broods more deep, more dark than this? What wandering wind of Love shall kiss To life one dear, dead yesterday? Good-night ! good-night ! 81 PART II. (IN THE SCOTTISH DIALECT) THE BIRTH OF BURNS IN ages far when Earth was young, An' Time as yet a beardless callant ; E'er human speech was said or sung, An' there was neither book nor ballant, The Powers aboon, assembled a', Wi' strong brows brent an' een sae gracious, Sat in the great starn-lichted ha', That crowns Olympia's tap sae spacious. There Juno stood beside her lord, There Venus wi' her winged wee laddie ; Vulcan his smiddy fire weel smored, An' sons a credit to their daddy. Big gods an' little, mair or less, In mony a queer an' cloudy toilet, An' next to Jove, in misty dress, The wise Minerva an' her hoolet. 83 LAYS AND LYRICS The nectar flowed the bowl gaed roon', An' aye they grew mair crouse an' can tie; Till, oot they brak "A boon! a boon! To mak' the dull earth prood an' vauntie." Great Jove upon his breast let fa' His mighty head wi' thinking o' it; Then up he towers high ower them a' : "I hae't! I hae't! let's mak' a poet!" " A man o' men, noo weak, noo strong, A creature fired wi' spark immortal, A livin' flame o' love an' sang, Caged in the clay o' errin' mortal." Oot brak sic cheers ! the like ne'er heard ! The very starnies winkin', wondered; While earth below, amazed an' scared, Looked up in fricht, sae loud it thundered. The wean for ages sleepit lang, Lulled by the planetary motion; His lullaby an' cradle sang The faint, far murmur o' the ocean. 84 THE BIRTH OF BURNS But whaur to find sweet mither-love, Or father fit for sic a ferlie, Lang tried the mighty brain o' Jove, An' vexed his meditations sairly. At last, a'e day, he smilin' said, " Here ends my lang an' anxious swither, Earth's boon is safe I see ahead A worthy father, kindly mither." But lang the ancient Gods renowned Down Time's dim corridors had vanished, Ere Scotland, proud, at last was crowned, Wi' poesy an' worth replenished, When Rab was born. The deil he heard, An' looked as though he'd ta'en the jaundice; Seizin' an' auld witch by the beard, He whirled her roon an' roon the Andes ! Oh, sic a storm ! It blew a' nicht, Atlantic, on his hind legs rampin', Gart mony a sailor quake wi' fricht, Sae close the danger o' them swampin'. 85 LAYS AND LYEICS " Just when I've things a' my ain way, An' a' are servile, mean an' cannie, Here, a' my fine work to gainsay, Upstarts this peasant-poet mannie! * He'll tell them men are brithers a', He'll vow that man wi' God claims kinship, Frae homage to the rich and braw, He'll win them ower to love an' frien'ship. "Confoond it a'! I'll ha'e revenge, I'll wait until the lad gets frisky; Gin poortith winna crush or change I'll ply him weel wi' gude Scotch whisky. " Tak' that enoo 'tis but a trick, A hint o' what ye'll get hereafter." Got flew his hoof a'e vicious kick, Boon fell the gayle frae roof an' rafter ! The rest ye ken Kab's life, his fame; The deil, though weel his word he keepit, The poet's pity spoilt his game, Wi' words in human kindness steepit. An' still where'er the Scot may stray, Gne star smiles doon each dawning morrow, Still listenin' to the sweetest lay, E'er sung by man for love and sorrow. 86 THE HILLS O' SCOTLAND THE grey auld hills o' Scotland, O welcome sicht to see ! As up the Clyde ance mair we sail Hame frae a far countrie. High o'er the haze their shouthers braid Kise bauld against the sky; The ancient sentinels that keep This land o' liberty. There by the sea they sit and wait For a' that gang awa', Their spell is ever on the heart, The wanderer hame to draw. What though a grey an' gurly sky Loots low their heads aboon, An' mists like wraiths o' memory Trail slow their sides a-doon? Frae prouder peaks that higher soar To skies o' clearer blue; Wi' longin' hearts we turn again, O hills o' hame, to you. 87 LAYS AND LYRICS There's no' a spot the world o'er Ayont Auld Scotia's ken; On every shore, in every clime Her sons aye haud their ain. But far or near, howe'er they fare, The dream is aye the same; Back to the dear auld land ance mair, hame. 88 IN FAIR CANADIE O BONNIE, bonnie moon in the lift sae hie, What saw ye in the Nor 'land awa' ayont the sea? Where stars like diamonds shine, an' a fervid sun glows fine On the grapes that bend the vine in fair Canadie Wham saw ye on the prairie where flowers blaw free, Till a' the land's like sunset on a rainbow-rippled sea? Where Nicht's but sleepin' Day, on river, wood, an' bay, An' wild things daff an' play in fair Canadie. Wham saw ye, bonnie moon? An' what said he? What message sent my ain love to me frae ower the sea? Said he ne'er a word ava? will he no come when the snaw Fa's deep an' covers a' in fair Canadie? O moon that winna tell, tak' this kiss frae me, An' when his sleep ye smile on, ower there ayont the sea, Loot to my love fu' fain, be kind an' dinna hain Till he dreams o' me again in fair Canadie. 89 EVERGREEN I'VE seen in many a forest, when a' was gaunt an' bare, A tree, still green an' bonnie in the snell an' frosty air. Though scant the Meld a wintry sun upon its beauty shed, Yet lived it on as love lives on when faith an' hope are dead. Sae ye may gang your ain gait, an' I gang mine, But love is like the evergreen, an' ne'er can memory tyne The auld days, the dear days, wi' only you an' me, An' the grandeur o' the hills, an' the glory o' the sea. There's weary feet upon the road that leads to nae hearthstane, An' high the head for a' the heart may break nor ance mak' mane, But oh ! the sweet o' a'e summer nicht, the moon upon the tide, The scent o' the sea in the summer gloam, an' we twa side by side! 90 ST. MONAN THERE'S a rare auld village close doon by the sea, The sea that gangs moaning moanin' ; Just twa 'ree grey houses, an' twa 'ree brown boats, An' twa 'ree douce fishers in blue duffle coats; An' bairns by the hunder, as merry's can be, Oh, a rare auld toon is St. Monan. It has an auld kirkyard that's washed by the sea, The sea that gangs moanin', moanin' ; An' there in the middle o't stands an auld kirk Wha's origin's lost in antiquity's mirk; 'Tis auld-fashioned, Gothic, an' quaint as can be ; A rare auld kirk has St. Monan. An' ower to the westward, o'erlooking the sea, The sea that gangs moanin', moanin' ; There stands an auld castle, sae eerie an' still, Crumblin' fast to decay on the tap o' the hill, An' there build their nests a' the wild birds that flee, An' the craws, wheelin' ower frae St. Monan. 91 LAYS AND LYRICS The folk are a ? fishers, an' live by the sea, The sea that gangs moaning moanin' ; WF their lives in their hands, they gang doon to the deep, In the mirk hours o' nicht when a' else are asleep, For the honest maun fend, an' their weird they maun dree, Though they come nae mair back to St. Monan. Oh, leeze me upon them ower there by the sea, The sea that gangs moanin', moanin'; Year in an' year out, there they are as ye see; They live, an' they love, an' they marry an' dee ; An' sometimes a heart or two breaks, ah, wae's me, E'en in the auld toon o' St. Monan. 92 A SECRET O, HAE ye seen oor Jean In her braw new duffle coat, An' her wee tartan shawl In a kink at her throat? She's aff an' doon the pier To bring the line upbye, For the yawls are comin' in, An' she's fish to fry. O whist ye ! There's a kist Fu' o' linen white as snaw; An' a' kin-kind o' orra things, An' dishes stowed awa'. An' Philip's on the pier, His nets piled shouther high, An' he looks, but ne'er lets on, When oor Jean gaes by. At Lammas they were a' Up the North at the drave, An' Philip wi' his nets Tried his luck wi' the lave. 93 LAYS AND LYRICS An' there's mony a bonnie ferlie In the toon o' Aberdeen, But a fisher buys nae gold ring For himsel', I ween. There's a fine boat in the harbour, An' a wee hoose on the brae, But wha's gaun to bide in't It's no for me to say. She'll say it's just a clash, An' my word would be denied, But gang ye to the kirk, An' ye' 11 hear wha's cried. 94 A HANDSHAKE ARE ye doon in the mouth, neebor? Rax me your hand, A gude- willy grip ane can aye understand ; Oor speech it may differ an' puzzle us a' ? But a grip o' the hand needs nae grammar ava. An' what I would say in this handshake o' mine Noo dinna despair though your faith ye may tine ; Let the weak an' the feckless gae scoog frae the rain But you stand ye up till the sun shines again. Ay ! lang, lang an' dreich is the battle o' life, An' few, few the victors that win in the strife ; But for you wha' by faith in the richt persevere, There waits but a'e endin', afar or anear. SIN' SYNE I SIT upon the brae where I sat langsyne, The gowans at my feet as they were langsyne, The Forth, sae calm an' blue, outspread before my view, An' the sun upon the sails as it shone langsyne. O the whins are a' abloom in the gold o' langsyne, The hawthorn, white an' sweet as in May lang- syne; A la'erock's blythesome tune through the sun- shine ringin' doon An' the burn aye babblin' on as it did langsyne. A' Nature smiles as sweet as it smiled langsyne, An' oh ! it's a' as dear as it was langsyne ; But in me there's a mane that I may tell to nane, An' the heart is cauld as stane that was warm langsyne. It's no' for what I miss that was there langsyne, The faces that I mind o' in a kind langsyne, 96 SIN' SYNE The hearts that lo'ed me weel, the kindly an' the leal, They live for evermair in my ain langsyne. It's a' something I hae tint sin' that fair langsyne, It's wisdom dearly coft wf the faith o' langsyne ; I look on a' I see wf a kent an' cauldrife e'e, But oh, to be the fule that I was langsyne ! 97 A MOTHER'S PRAYER OH, bairn, my bairn, come hame to me Frae that weary world o' men; Frae the din an' the stour o' the strife sae dour, An' the heartaches nane may ken. I'll trow me a blythe young minnie again, An' ye my wee laddie fair; An' we'll bar the door as we've dune before, On the wearifu' bogie, care. The peace o' the summer nicht shall fa' On your heart as on grass the dew, Evanished youth wi' it's trust an' truth, Come back to your soul anew. Sae sweet the sang o' birds at dawn, The earth sae fair an' green, Ye'll mind nae mair, your weird sae sair, Nor trow hoo auld ye've been. 98 A MOTHER'S PRAYER Awa', vain dream! Ah! weel I ween The world will keep its ain; The laddie I kissed a'e far yestreen, What morn shall bring again? I Jut thou, O Heart that hands us a', Xoo when his dark hair turns to snaw; At e'enin', when the lift is clear, When lown the wind an' sweet the brier; An' low, an' wae, an' far awa', The murmur o' the gloamin' sea, Saft let him hear Thy voice doonfa': " O bairn, My bairn, come hame to Me !" 99 SUN AND SHADOW THE auld toon lies in the bend o' the brae, An' green are the fields awa' to the nor' o't, An' blue is the sea, the summer sea, When the lift bends doon an 7 the ships glide o'er it. An' oh, to watch in a fine afternune, When the tide is fu', and the auld pier lippin', The boats launch seaward, ane by ane, Sails up, an' oars in the water dippin'. Blythe, blythe is the toon when the boats come in, White, white are the fish in the sunlicht glancin' ; An' happy the wives doon the pier that rin, An' merry the weans on the auld braes dancin'. 100 SUN AND SHADOW But wae the dawnin' that brings nae mair To the harbour some wha yestreen went sailin' ; The auld toon sits wi' a dowie air, An' doors are closed on the women wailin'. Sighin' and sabbin' up ower the bend, Sighin' and sabbin* the tide gangs ever, But they that are missed frae the auld pier end Come back to their hame an' their ain ah, never ! 101 AEOLIAN O EAST wind, east wind, when will ye cease your blawin'? See,- ower the velvet laws o' Fife, how saft the sunlicht's fa'in'; After the rain, the fair ploughed fields wi' warm mists are reekin', An' here an 7 there upon the braes the primroses are keekin'. The lang roadsides are fringed wi' green, an' dandelions golden, Hedges an' trees are a' a-bud; the gowans a' un- foldin'; The craws are back to their auld nests ; just listen to their cawin' ! East wind, east wind, it's time to cease your blawin' ! O east wind, east wind, we're weary o' your blawin' ! Ayont the May how bonnily the summer day is daw'in' ! 102 AEOLIAN Up past the Bass, wi' siller sails, sae fair the ships come gliding An' waitin for the tide, the boats are aff the harbour ridin'. Alang the braes, abune the shore, when fa's the starry gloaming The lads an' lasses, lover-like, are fain to gae a-roarnin' ; But love itseP can hardly dree your chill an' oorie gnawin', East wind, east wind, oh cease your bitter blawin' ! 103 SPEAK YE KINDLY JNOO NAE carven cross or lettered stane Ower me when I lie doon In quiet lap o' Hither Earth, Wi' grassy turf aboon. Fu' sound I'll sleep, though ne'er a wreath May wither ower my brow, Sae diima hain your love till then, But speak ye kindly noo. Wae's me! how aft they come ower-late, The words ane langs to hear. How rife the hungry souls that pine For lack o' timeous cheer. An' what avails the lang regret, The love Death wakes anew, When stilled the heart, an' closed the een? Oh, speak ye kindly noo! Why should we gi'e the sharpest word Sae ready to oor ain, When love can mak' o' earth a heaven, An' angels e'en o' men? Oh, leeze me on the life that's leal, The love that brings nae rue, The heart that hains nae couthie word, But speaks me kindly noo ! 104 MY AIN AULD TOON OUT ower the sea there's a fisher toon, A Scottish sky bends o'er it; A' day at its feet the wee waves croon, An' the Forth spreads fair before it. Oh, the sun shines fine in the land I'm in, But no' as he shines ower yonder; An' the grass is green, but nae dewy sheen As I mind where I would wander. I see it noo ; the moon looks doon Through dappled cloud rifts breakin'; The skippers frae door to door rin roon', Their sleepin' crews to waken. The tide is due, the harbour's fu', The boats afloat rock darklin' ; The stars' clear een, ilk ane a freen', Abune the pier-head sparklin'. It's " yo-hea-ho," up sail an' away Through mirk to meet the mornin'. No a'e mast left. An', oh, I pray Blythe, blythe be their returnin'. Oh, my ain toon, my dear auld toon, I think o't late an' early ; Nae joy comes there I canna share, Nae grief but I grieve sairly. 105 THE OLD FISHERMAN HE stands upon the auld pier end And looks oot ower the sea, He likes to watch the sunset tide Creep in sae calm and slee. His hair is white, his face is brown, His een, they can see far; Ay ! he can tell the time o' nicht By lookin' at a star. Weel buttoned up across the breast His blue sleeve- waistcoat fine; His little yawl rocks by the pier, Sometimes he casts a line. He's careful been ; nae man he awes, His wif e's as auld as he ; They mind o' things lang past and gane, An' live in memory. The laddies in the harbour wade It seems nae time ava Sin' he himseP was wadin' there The wildest o' them a'. 106 THE OLD FISHERMAN Wi' Geordie, Jock and Toosie Tarn, An' Dave, a perfect deil, They're a' awa' but ane or twa Douce neebors, liket weel. An' mony a crew he's seen set sail Fine strappin' men they were The heartsome joke upon their lips, An' never saw them mair. His een are wet, his face is wae, He's thinkin' o' his ain; His bonnie sons that sailed awa' An' ne'er cam' back again. So on the auld sea-wa' he leans, The hush o' e'enin's breath Deep in his soul ; he hears the tide Whisper o' life and death. An' sweet the thocht that heaven draws near, He'll soon be wi' the lave; An' frae his ain get welcome fain In the life ayont the grave. 107 "JOUK, AND LET THE JAW BY WHA lifts a white an' angry front To calumny an' shame? Wha bears the brunt o' bitter tongues 'That scorch wi' Hell's ain flame? Wha sits in sorrow by the hearth Made cauld by sudden doom? Wha stands aghast to see o'erhead Black ruin's ga therm' gloom? Come, tak' ye heart and weigh ye fair The auld phrase, trite and quaint, " Jouk, an' let the jaw by," Or sinner ye or saint. Gin failure threatens, grip to this : What's done is judged by men, What ye hae aimed at lost or won There's only Ane may ken. The dunt that hurts sae when we fa', The wounds our dearest gi'e, The weary days o' stress an' strain, Oh, but they're ill to dree! 108 JOUK, AN' LET THE JAW BY ' But, " Jouk, and let the jaw by," Though head an' heart be sair, Wi' mallet hard an' chisel keen Life's sculptor fashions fair. An' oh, when thochts o' days lang dead O'erwhelm ye like a tide, An' a' ye've haen an' a' ye've lost, Seem mair than ye can bide, " Jouk, an' let the jaw by," Till ebbs the flood again, An' frae Despair's fell deeps ye rise The stronger for your pain. 109 AN' OH, THE MERLE SANG CLEAR MY love he turned his face to me, An' oh, his een were sweet to see; Nae need had he the words to say " Oh, love, ye ken I lo'e ye." An' oh, the merle sang clear, On his tree- tap in the blue ; Sang to his mate, as mine to me, The auld song, ever new : I lo'e ye, I lo'e ye The auld song ever new. A fig for wark ! awa' wi' care ! My love's my ain for evermair; There's naething noo can daunton me, Sae lang's my love he lo'es me. An' oh, the merle sings clear, On his tree- tap in the blue; Sings to his mate, as mine to me, The auld song, ever new : I lo'e ye, I lo'e ye The auld song ever new. 110 AN' OH, THE MERLE SANG CLEAR Oh, love is strong, and love is sweet, Oh, love is breath, an 7 hands an' feet; When dowie, I tyne heart, it's aye : " Oh, love, ye ken I lo'e ye." An' aye the merle sings clear, On his tree- tap in the blue; Sings to his mate, as mine to me, The auld song, ever new : I lo'e ye, I lo'e ye The auld song ever new. Ill OH, BONNIE BURN OH, bonnie burn, that wimplin' rins The daisied meadows doon ; Where gat ye that in thy laigh sang, A' ither sangs aboon? The sough o' wintry winds is wae, An' waef u' moans the sea ; But in thy larig sweet elfin thren There's a'e sang aye to me. I hear it when I sit alane, I hear it in my dreams, Doon dinlin' on through dewy straths, An', oh, how sweet it seems. Noo racin' swift, wi' laughter licht, Noo croonin' saft an' slee, An' singin', singin' evermair That a'e laigh sang to me. The moon bends ower an j smiles to see Her face thy banks atween, When like a fairy's chant thy sang Rings through the hush o' e'en; 112 OH, BONNIE BUKN An' by thy side I dreamin' stray Nae inair my leavefu' lane; Thy sang it is my love's ain voice, An', oh, but we are fain. Oh, bonnie burn, oh, wimplin' burn, Sing on, sing aye to me ; The dreams sae dear, it mak's me sweir The wakenin' to dree. 113 AN IDYLL OF THE PLOUGH SILLER clouds and la'erock's sang, Up in the April blue; Boon in the fields the hale day lang, Young Geordie at the plough. Buddin' trees an' bloomin' gorse Aroon' the headrig braw; He turns the fur' an' steers the horse Boon mony a bonnie raw. Katie in her fine new goon, Atween the hedges green, Comes steppin' blythely to the toon, But ne'er lets on she's seen. Geordie in the furrow stands, An' glowers the lang road doon ; The reins hard grippit in his hands; What ails the donnert loon? 114 AN IDYLL OF THE PLOUGH Ked, red the west, a weary craw Sits on the idle plough; But Geordie's to the toon awa' Roon's neck a cravat new. Up through the scented gloanrin' sweet, Come, daun'erin' saft an' slow, Love's languor in their linger-in' feet, Young Katie an' her jo. 115 THE WEARIFU* SILLER THE siller, the siller, the wearifu' siller, A' that we're here f or's to mak' it, it seems ; What it will do for us, what it can buy for us, Fills a 7 our lives, a' our thochts, a' our dreams. The wearifu' siller, sae sairly o'er-rated ; Sae coveted, sinned for by great an' by snia' ; The magical sesame, every door openin', Yet powerless to buy anej the best, after a ? . A' that maun perish an' pass in the usin ? ; A' that is least in life siller can gie; A' that this world spreads fair for your choosin' ; But farther it canna the highest is free. Whene'er did siller endow men wi' genius? What has siller to do wi ? the deeds that endure? Wi' the love that is life, wi' the friendships we value? Wi' aught that is noble, an' lovely, an' pure? 116 THE WEARIFU' SILLER Whaur is the heart siller e'er saved frae breakin'? \Yhaur is the head it e'er furnished wi' brains? Siller bids nae longin' soul cease frae achin', H rings to regret nae rebate o' its pains. Let wha will worship and grovel before it, Image o' gold wi' the tempter's chill e'e, A ? the earth's kingdoms atweel he may promise, But siller's worth never could satisfy me. 117 IN ST. ENOCH'S SQUARE, GLASGOW O LASSIE, little lassie, selling vestas in the square, Wi' shilpit face, an' raggit frock, an' strawley towzled hair, What hope for ye, what help for ye, ye puir neglected wean, Wi' spurtle legs, an' wee red feet upon the cauld weet stane? Up to the train, doon frae the train, the human torrent flows, Frae coast an' city, Men' an' braw, the crowd still comes an' goes, An' " Vestas, sir? A penny, sir," the eager chorus thranes, For sell ye maun, an' pennies bring, or dree sair skin an' banes. It's weel to sing and say there's Ane that marks the sparrow's fa', But aft atweel it's hard to think that there's a God ava When hame ye gang at e'enin' to the cursin' an' the shame, The hard, foul words, the drunken dauds in the hell that ye ca' hame. 118 IN ST. ENOCH'S SQUARE, GLASGOW Oh, fair an' fine an' stately stand the kirks on every hand, There's rowth o' corn an' wine an' silk, an' wealth overflows the land; There's hames for dogs, an' hames for cats, the horse is kaimed wi' care, But, oh, ye tender woman wee, for you what thocht is there? Ay, lassie, in the cushioned kirks, fu' sweet the hymns we sing, The beauties o' the ither world, the glories o' the King; What He, the King, maun think o't a', I kenna, but I trow, Gin He were in our hearts ava, there would be nane like you. O Thou, who wert the Carpenter, Son Thou o' God Most High, Was it for this Thy weird was dreed, for this, Lord, didst Thou die, That men should thrive by others' wants, by others' woe and shame, Weans passed through fire to Moloch in a land that names Thy name? 119 JAMIE DALE AN' ME OH, we gaed walkin' thro' the fields, Jamie Dale an 7 me; Bonnie shone the summer sun, An' bonnie blue the sea; White were the gowans at our feet, White o'er our heads the haw, I but a lassie in my 'teens, An' Jamie twenty-twa. Oh, we gaed walkin' thro' the fields, Jamie Dale an' me, The hairst moon high aboon the stooks, An' we, wi' bairnies three. Ane sleepin' saft upon my arm, Ane on his shouther high ; An' a'e wee curly-headed lad, Sae crouse, ca'in hame the kye. Ay! we gaed walkin' thro' the fields, Jamie Dale an' me; The bairns a' married an' awa' An' aulder folk were we. 120 JAMIE DALE AN' ME The day was blae, the rigs were bare, The corn a' led awa'; Cauld soughed the wind up frae the sea, The lift hung grey wi' snaw. But never mair we'll walk the fields, Jamie Dale an' me ; On dowie braes I gang my lane, His face nae mair I'll see, Till in a land of fadeless spring, Auld age melts aff like snaw, An' I again am in my 'teens, An' Jamie twenty-twa. 121 "ARE OOR FOLK IN?" OH, cam' ye frae Anster, or wast frae the Elie? Or whaur there's a harbour for refuge to rin? Heard ye ocht o' the boats oot bye a' nicht tossin' ? Tell me, oh, tell me if oor folk's in. Never an e'e a' nicht through hae I steekit, The wind an' the sea they mak siccan a din, An' nae word o' the boat wi' my twa bonnie laddies ; Tell me, oh, tell me if oor folk's in. It's ten year the noo sin' my man was ta'en frae me; A storm sic like's this, wae's me, weel I min', I ran doon to the pier, an' I speired at a neebor Tell me, oh, tell me if oor folk's in. " Ay, lass, they're a' in. But it's no' at this har- bour; They're safe in the port that we a' hope to win"; 122 "ARE OOR FOLK IN?" And I fell at his feet, but the minute I waukened, 'Twas, " Tell me, oh, tell me if oor folk's in." But the Lord has been gude, an' we've warstled through brawly At the best, life's a battle for puir folk, ye ken; But aye when the wind's in the Nor'-east I'm anxious Tell me, oh, tell me if oor folk's in. I'm sure my gudeman, though he be safe in heaven, He'll ne'er be content till the rest o's can win ; An' I ken a' the time at the Lord he'll be spierin' " Tell me, oh, tell me if oor folk's in." 123