Irfi- iS'h IZi'-i^. LAYS AND LYRICS. CHARLES GRAY, CAPTAIN, ROYAL MATIIXES, r. A. S. E. JOHN MENZIES, EDINBURGH; TILT LAYS AND LYRICS. Oh, Love has wiles at his command ! Whene'er we chance to meet, The slightest pressure o' her hand Maks my fond bosom beat ; I hear the throbbing o' my heart While nought but her I see ; — ■ When shall I meet, nae mair to part, Louisa, dear, wi' thee ? 63 LAYS AND LYRICS. IMPROMPTU, WRITTEN WHILE THE AUTHOR WAS YET * A FIRST LIEUTENANT OF MARINES.' Alas ! for the Subs that must traverse the ocean, And mount step by step the scale of promotion ; The steps are so distant, the ladder so high. The top, like old Jacob's, is lost in the sky ! This doctrine is true, tho** few venture to teach it. In heaven, alone, will the most of them reach it ! 64 LAYS AND LYRICS. HOLY STONES. (9) Those holy stones — those holy stones — Full well I know their horrid tones ; For o'er my head in life's young morn, My ears were by their discord torn ! \ Those hours have passed — how swift ! — away, And many a heart that then was gay, Now darkly dwells with Davy Jones, And hears no more those holy stones ! And so 'twill be when I am gone, Those horrid stones will still rub on, And jolly tars, in surly tones. Blast buckets, brooms, and holy stones ! When with the peep of early dawn, Along the deck they're rudely drawn, Who, undisturbed, can lie and hear Such grating sounds assail his ear ? 65 I LAYS AND LYRICS. O then they come on our hours of rest, Like the nightmare on a sick man's breast. And the spirit of dreams in a moment flies, As we wake to this world's realities ! Sure every stage of this mortal life, . With petty miseries is rife ; But toothach — headach — -a sick man's grroans. Are nought to the rubbing of holy stones I ()6 LAYS AND LYRICS. STANZAS, ADDRESSED TO A POETICAL FRIEND, RESIDING IN THE VICINITY OF NEWHAVEN. O I'll ay mind yestreen, And sae merry's I've been Wi' friends that I met in your ha', man ; Till memory retreat, And sense leave her seat, And the last sough o' life flee aw a, man ! Your drink it was good, And sae was the food. And quickly we stowed it awa, man ; But swats, I'll be boun', Gang far faster down Than ought that is fed in the sta', man. This morn i' my mouth Was a sma' dust o' drouth, But I had na a headach ava, man ; (i7 LAYS AND LYRICS. Of soda nae bottle Gaed fizz down my throttle, To clear the mouse-wabs frae my craw, man ! O I'll ay mind the night — The een sparklin bright — The music that rang thro' your ha', man- — Your ain comely dame — The twa lasses at hame. And laddie, that's just gaun awa, man. How, for story and joke Ilk ane loosed his pock, And drew his spoon out o' the wa\ man ; For the mst frae our mill, o Was mirth and guid will. That rushed, like a river, awa, man ! Sae we sat and we sang, For I ken na how lang ; The clock chappit ane, and syne twa, man ; While the moon shinin high, Glowred down frae the sky. And cried, * are ye no gaun awa, man ?' VA) LAYS AND LYRICS. LINES WRITTEN ON THE BACKWARDNESS OF SPRING 1837. Breathe upon Nature's chilly breast, Ye gentle zephyrs of the west ; Blow, and revive the dreary plain ; Bid flower and foliage live again : As yet no daisy decks the lea. Nor bud bursts on the hawthorn tree ; While, nipt in early youth, the lamb ' Lies dead beside the bleating dam ! The sky-lark, herald of the spring. In vain essays his fluttering wing ; For, as he tries the ambient air, Snow-cloud on snow-cloud meets him there ! I Nature's breast is cold and chill. For. Winter lingers on the hill. His snowy mantle round him holds, And slowly gathers up its folds ! L9 LAYS AND LYRICS. When will he seek the iron North, And the pale primrose venture forth ? Sad April leaves us with a sigh, The tear congealed within her eye ; And Maia comes with sun and showers- Maia ! the mother of sweet flowers ; She comes to bid the woods rejoice, For scarce a warbler lifts his voice ; She seeks the garden's gay parterre. And finds a pallid snowdrop there! 70 LAYS AND LYRICS. THE PUNCH BOWLJiO) Am— Auld Lang Syne. Welcome thou huge capacious bowl From o'er the boundless sea ; And blest the sweet Chinese's soul. That made and modell'd thee! Brimful thou stand' st — a depth profound — An ocean in expanse, In which the moon and stars around Might see themselves at once ! Doubtless, frae bickers big, the men Wha lived afore the flood, Were wont their mighty draughts to drain. And souk their liquor good : But ne''er a son of Anak's race, Though drouthy past control, Was fit to fauld in his embrace, Or drain thee — oriant bowl ! 71 LAYS AJSD LYRICS. Some bards have made a mighty fuss. And many a stanza penn'd. To prove the sum of human bliss, ' A bottle and a friend !' But though I love the flow of soul, And come at friendship's call ; give me but this ample bowl, I'll spurn at bottles all ! Had Bacchus lived — that jolly god. So famed for wine and glee ; He would have left his high abode. This bowl of bowls to see ! Say, what are tumblers ? what are jugs ? They tempt not me to sing, Ye poets come, and * lay your lugs In mair than Pindus' spring !' Fve lived — ^but never hoped to see — Though I've been blythe and boon — * A bowl of punch that like a sea Could soom a lanor dragoon !' 75? LAYS AND LYRICS. Then hence with every paltry glass. And crystal goblets bring. While each man drinks his friend, his lass, His country, and his King ! While here we stand in mar shall' d ranks, One cup, with three times three ; One brimming cup of heartfelt thanks To Sandy o'er the sea ! Where'er he roam — howe'er remote — To Indus, or the Pole ; Corstorphine's name be 't ne'^er forgot Beside this flowing bowl ! 73 LAYS AND LYRICS. TO A YOUNG LADY, WHO DECLINED TO BE INTRODUCED TO THE AUTHOR BECAUSE HE WROTE VERSES. The hand is harmless when the tongue can rhyme. Allan Cunningham, Your words, fair lady, give me pain — Why dread the Poet's simple strain ? Deem not his harmless lays disgrace. If he in verse should try to trace, On face so lovely, young, and fair. The lines that live in beauty there. Your * wee bit mou sae sweet and bonnie,' A lovelier never saw I onie ; (Except perhaps — 'twere vain to tell The name of one that loved me well ; To dream of bliss, long since gone by, That mocks the heart, and prompts the sigh ;) 74 LAYS AND LYRICS. Ripe ruby lips — may heaven bless them ! Might tempt an anchorite to kiss them ! Where pearly teeth themselves disclose. Mocking the lily and the rose. Two pretty eyes, that well might pass For Cupid's own bright looking-glass; Nay, on my conscience, I declare Young Love himself seems dwelling there, Or sports among thy raven hair ! A bust, so formed by Nature's hand, No sculptor could the like command : — In vain may Art with Nature vie In beauty, or in symmetry ! — Where'er you walk — tho' crowds surround you, The light of beauty shines around you. Tempting the idle world to gaze On woman's winning witching ways ; While modesty, as with a veil. Enshrines the maid my Muse would hail ! Then tolerate the minstrel's strain. Nor deem his lays as light, as vain ; LAYS AND LYRICS. The poet's pen, by you abhorred, Is greater than the victor's sword. The warrior who a name may gain, Lives in the bard's immortal strain ; The beauty that adorns a face — The female form — the matchless grace, Would leave on earth no lasting trace ; And e'en the painter's bright display, With lapse of years would fade away ; And the proud sculptor's work sublime, Crumble beneath the foot of Time ; Unless the minstrel's high acclaim, Bade write them in the rolls of Fame ! As erst round Sappho's ' burning brow' Bloomed the green bay, so blooms it now ; And Laura's name in Petrarch's page Shall live through every future age ; And Saccharissa — maid divine ! Still smile in Waller's liquid line; — And yours, Eliza ! live in mine. Such honours to the Muse belong — Such is the power of poet's song ! 76 LAYS AND LYRICS. Then shun not him whose humble lays, Were ever tuned to woman's praise ; For there is that in woman's glance, Can lap the soul in sweet romance ; And e'en when youth has passed away Sheds o'er man's heart a cheering ray ! — Time was, I felt Love's sacred flame. And ' owned the maoric of a name : ' Seven years I worshipped at his shrine Before I called the idol mine ; — Fair was her hair, her eyes were blue — So soft, that heaven seemed looking through, — And we enjoyed what young hearts prove, We sighed — but never talked of love ! Long ere her brother joined our hands Our hearts were knit in love's soft bands : She loved me, from her bosom's core, — And man ne'er loved a woman more I But soon from earth she passed away To regions of eternal day ; And I am left in life's rude throng To soothe my way with rhyme and song ; LAYS AND LYRICS. Nor shall I deem the labour vain. To follow in the muses' train, If I can while with song awaj The gloom that shrouds my wintry day. Then fear not, lady, that my strain. Should give your gentle bosom pain ; — Long have I strung my homely lays To woman's love, and beauty's praise ; And trust my self-rewarding toil May claim the * tribute of a smile.* Rude, unconnected are my themes — Disjointed as our morning dreams ; And small, if any, is my claim To minstrel, or to poet's name. To love, alone, I owe each lay. In life's untutored early day ; And who by love and fancy fired. But felt, or feigned himself inspired ? 78 LAYS AND LYRICS. FAREWELL ! YE SCENES TO ME SAE DEAR. AiE— Miss Forbes' Farewell to Banff. Farewell ! ye scenes to me sae dear, Where aft I strayed in early youth, Ere yet this breast knew ought o' care. When a' was innocence and truth ; As distance dims you frae my gaze, I tak a lang, a last adieu ; And think on a' my artless ways, Whan life, and love, and hope, were new I I sigh to leave ilk favourite scene. Endeared to me by mony a tie ; The bonnie burn and washin green Where aft I frolic' d whan a boy ! But oh ! wi' Jessie thus to part, What troubled thochts distract my mind ! For love to her has bound my heart. As fast as fervent vows can bind. 79 LAYS AND LYRICS. Aft on yon burnie's braes I've strayed, Where willows wave beside the stream ; And there aft met my dearest maid, And spent the hour in love's fond dream ! There, as the sun declined, we lay. And curious watched the unwary fly, And aft the trout wad seize its prey. And aft the tear bedewed her eye. Now far to foreign climes I go. And leave the burn and washin green ; - Nae mair to meet where willows grow, Tho' fancy lang will haunt the scene ; Yet aft Til picture Jessie there, Slow wandering by the burnies side. And hear the sigh that's lost in air. And see the tear fa' in the tide ! LAYS AND LYRICS. THE HAKP OF THE TROUBADOUK. MUSIC BY PETER M'LEOD, ESQ. The lays are lost of the olden time, When with harp in his joyous hand, The Troubadour, with merry chime, Would roam from land to land ; His strains were prized in the princely hall. And loved at the cottage door ; — The world his home — for dear to all Was the harp of the Troubadour. His boon, a cup of the ruby wine. From the hand of some ladye fair. Whose knight had fought in Palestine, With brand and bosom bare. Of war's stern deeds he loved to sing ; ■ When the battle's din was o'er. The clash and clang of arms would ring From the harp of the Troubadour. 81 LAYS AND LYRICS. Wlien gentler moods his mind would move, How sweet were the notes he played, Soft as the whispered vows of love. From the lips of village maid ; And many a maiden's eye beam'd bright, Tho' her heart was sad before, When tripping to some measure light, From the harp of the Troubadour. U2 LAYS AND LYRICS. GRIM WINTER WAS HOWLIN. AiB — Bonnie Dundee. Grim winter was howlin owre muir and owre mountain , And bleak blew the wind on the wild stormy sea ; The cauld frost had locked up ilk riv'let and fountain, As I took the dreich road that leads north to Dundee. Tho' a' round was dreary, my heart was fu' cheery. And cantie I sung as the bird on the tree ; For, whan the heart's light, the feet winna soon weary, Tho' ane shou'd gang farther than bonnie Dundee ! Arrived at the banks o' sweet Tay's flowin' river, I looked, as it rapidly rowed to the sea ; And fancy, whase fond dream still pleases us ever, Beguiled the lone passage to bonnie Dundee. There, glowrin about — I saw in his station, Ilk bodie as eydent as mid-summer bee ; When fair stood, a mark on the face o' creation — The lovely young Peggy, the pride o' Dundee ! 83 LAYS AND LYRICS. O, ay since the time I first saw this sweet lassie, I'm listless, I'm restless, wharever I be ; I'm dowie, and donnart, and aften ca'd saucy. They ken na — its a' for the lass o' Dundee ! O lang may her guardians be Virtue and Honour ; Tho' anither may wed her, yet weel may she be ; And blessin's in plenty be shower' d down upon her- The lovely young Peggy, the pride o"* Dundee ! 84 I LAYS AND LYRICS. A SKETCH OFF CAPE DE GATT, IN ENGLISH SAPPHICS. OflFcape De Gatt, I lost my hat. — Sailoe's Rhyme. All on board of a man o' war.— Sea Song. 'Tis night — and the lady -moon walks in her mantle Of dun clouds ; — no star shines in the firmament ; Darkness has spread her wings — ^while far to leeward Gleams the red lightning ! See ! it approaches fast, dazzling the eye-sight ; Clouds, in commotion, fly diverse around us ; — Broad fall the rain drops — whilst on the startled ear Bursts the loud thunder I Seek we the ward-room, illumined by lamp-light, Marking with lynx-eye what passes before us ; — Here Subs, without substance, void of all cumber, Lumber the lockers ! I '60 LAYS AND LYRICS. One, upon four chairs stretches his length out ; Two in a corner sit rattling the dice box — Sathan's invention ! — a fourth in his folly Whistles a psalm -tune ! Three Luffs, in jackets blue, keenly are betting — Done ! distance ! dollars ! in one shout are mingled ; — A fourth, on the benches, unconscious of clamour, Lies loudly snoring ! Four at a table sit, covered with green baize. Shuffling — dealing— and playing the deviPs game ; — Perch' d, at a corner, sedulously scribbling sits Pinchem the Purser ! 'Tis calm — and the moon comes forth in her beauty, Tinging the dark sails with tissues of silver ; — for a west-wind impelling us forward To thy isle, Malta I Well said king Solomon — sagest of monarchs ! Deep read in proverb lore — far-famed for wisdom ! tQ LAYS AND LYRICS. That, * Hope, if deferred long,maketh the heart vsick;' — So have I found it. Freshens the fair wind, till each sail is swelling, And onwards the good ship is spurning the proud waves, Leaving a long tract, where matter phosphoric Sparkles behind her I Spread every sail out — topsail and studding salt, Whilst o'er the waters blue, scuds the ship swan-like ! — Memory shall leave her seat ere I forget ye, Friends in green Erin ! Distant, yet much loved, I muse on thee, Scotland I As the heart of a mother yearns for her first babe, Even so does my lone heart long to behold thee, Land of my Fathers ! March 24. 1834. ?7 LAYS AND LYRICS. THO^ BOREAS BAULD, THAT CARLE AULD. AiB— Maggie Lauder. Though Boreas bauld, that carle auld, Should sough a surly chorus ; And Winter snell walk out himsel And throw his mantle o'er us ; — Tho' winds blaw drift adown the lift, And drive hailstanes afore 'em ; While you and I sit snug and dry, Come push about the jorum ! Tho** no a bird can now be heard Upon the leafless timmer,; Whatever betide — the ingle side Can mak the winter — simmer ! Tho' cauldrife souls hate reekin bowls. And loath what's set before 'em ; How sweet to tout the glasses out — ■ O leezo me on a joruin ! 88 LAYS AND LYRICS. The hie hill taps, like baxter's baps, Wi^ snaw are white and floury ; Skyte doun the lum the hailstanes come. In Winter's wildest fury ! Sharp Johnny Frost, wi' barkynt hoast, Maks travellers tramp the quicker ; Should he come here to spoil our cheer, We'll drown him in the bicker ! Bess, beet the fire — come, big it higher. Lest cauld should mak us canker' d ; — This is our hame, my dainty dame, Sae fill the tither tankard. Wi' guid ait cakes, or butter bakes. And routh o' whisky toddy, Wha daur complain, or mak a mane, That man's a saul-less body? X m LAYS AND LYRICS. THE ROSE. Am— Ye banks and braes o' bonnie Doon. Emblem of love ! from Mary's hand How much I prize thee, balmy rose ! Thy odour, like aifection bland,, On all around delight bestows. A fairer flower in vain we seek — Can aught in nature rival thee ? Nought, save the bashful virgin's cheek, Where glows the blush of modesty. Emblem of love ! for Mary's sake, I'll place thee near lAy faithful heart ; That heart, now lone and sad, must break Since we, alas ! are doomed to part. Still her dear image in my mind Shall live, for absence to atone ; As thy perfume remains behind When all thy loveliness is gone. 1)0 LAYS AND LYRICS, LINES ON VISITING DOLLAR AFTER THE DEATH OF A FRIEND. Again with wandering feet I rove, To seek the haunts of Devon grove, Where, winding through the leafless bushes, The turbid river onward rushes. — In Devon's vale, the infant spring Her first fair snowdrop there shall fling ; And soon the glowing sun shall view The crocus clad in golden hue ; And there, in fragrance, shall disclose Its modest head, the pale primrose ; And reckless larks shall poise the wing, While buds shall burst and blackbirds sing ; And nought be heard in Devon grove, Save notes of melody and love ! Where lofty Ochils frowning lower O'er Dollar's academic bower ; 91 LAYS AND LYRICS. Here, while I former scenes retrace, No more I hail a well-known face ; — Alas ! the hand that welcome gave Lies cold within the gloomy grave ; And Spring, whose animating power Shall soon revive the lifeless flower, And clothe the hill, and deck the tree — Shall fail to bring that friend to me ! For gone is he who well could blend The husband, father, and the friend ; And left us in a world of sighs. To mourn o'er life's uncertainties;— Whose warm benevolence of mind, Like nature's gifts, was unconfined ; Whose social generous heart was rife With all the charities of life ! 'Tis said, * that when the poet dies Mute nature mourns ;' — the woodland sighs ; The dancing brook though rushing on, Assumes a soft, a sadder tone ; — LAYS AND LYRICS. Well then may nature in her bloom Strew flowerets round the painter's tomb ; Since none so truly can impart Such transcripts of her beauteous art. What debt of gratitude we owe The man who first made canvass glow ! For there again, in fairest guise. The broad, the living landscape lies; And there, in lineament and line, Lives in his art man's face divine ! And birds, and flowers of various dies, From his creative pencil rise. — O well could Gibson's hand define The truth of beauty's wavy line ; And real, or fancied scenes enhance By far perspective's magic glance. His glowing touch could realize The tints that gild the evening skies, When nature, in her garb of green. Throws her brio;ht vesture o'er the scene. LAYS AND LYRICS. But now, alas ! that hand no more Shall cull those tints from nature's store ; His spirit — his enchanting powers, Fled with lone autumn's latest flowers ; — Now winter rules with ruthless sway — Dark mists descend and close the day ; But spring her mantle shall resume, To garland fair her painter's tomb. ■1;^^^ 94 LAYS AND LYRICS. STANZAS ON THE DEATH OF A LADY. The tardy spring, at length, returns — The renovating breezes blow ; The flowers start from their wintry urns, Exulting in their gaudy show ; — In vain to me their colours glow — In vain they shed a rich perfume ; They only mock my cherished wo. By blooming round my Jessie's tomb. All is not buried in the dust, Tho' cold her lifeless form lies there ; Her spirit dwells among the just — She shares the joys that angels share ! The bitter tear I well may spare — . The sigh, and many a stifled groan ; Why should I mourn in heart for her Who lives where sorrow is unknown ? 96 LA.yS AND LYRICS. What is this world ? A vale of tears. With death in ambush for his prey ; He strikes ! the spirit disappears — We mingle with our kindred clay ! But we shall meet — no distant day — Exempt, at last, from care and pain. Where every tear is wiped away, And we shall never part again. Oh thought of comfort to the soul, While prisoner in its frail abode ! To live while endless ages roll — To walk in presence of our God ! Then let me kiss the chastening rod, Af]6d,Me^s the hand that brings me low ; * That, while I bear life's weary load. Still makes me taste the joy of wo ! •He LAYS AND LYRICS. EPITAPH FOR THE author's MOTHER. Ye young and gay who tread this ground Blush not to shed the conscious tear ; Perhaps ere long the turf-clad mound, May cover one your soul holds dear. Sweet is the trump of airy Fame To the young warrior's ravished ear ; But sweeter far a Mother's name To him who holds affection dear. For know — a Mother lies below Who once was loved, with love sincere : Tho' death long since has struck the blow. Sweet is affection's silent tear. Time may deface the sculptor's art, ■ And sorrow cease to drop the tear ; But while affection warms the heart. Still will a Mother's name be dear ! a 1)7 LAYS AND LYRICS. SKETCHES OF SCOTTISH POETS. Of all the good that mortal men pursue, The muse has least to give, and gives to few. Cbabbe. BURNS. When Genius long neglected lay. And his last strains had died away ; \Mien * wood notes wild' were heard no more On Ayr's sweet banks and Carrick shore ; In dreary dens fair Coila strayed — Her head close muffled in her plaid ; Hot tears bedew' d each cheek and eye, While * Burns ! ' burst forth in many a sigh.- No mausoleum then was seen — His lowly grave scarce clad in green ; No sculptured forms in anguish bent — His name, alone, his monument, — 98 LAYS AND LYRICS. A monument, surpassing art. That lives in every Scotsman's heart ; A fitting shrine-^since none so well Our loves, joys, pleasures, e'er could tell ! CAMPBELL. Who stalks along with raptured eye, Now views the earth, and now the sky ; Whose lyre is of the classic mould. As strung by bards in days of old ? 'Tis Campbell gives his fancy scope. And sings a soothing lay of Hope — How ardent genius, unconfined. Shall yet unlock the springs of mind ; With Heaven's own fire young bosoms glow. And rival all but one below. Hark ! as he leaves the peaceful vale What hostile sounds the ears assail ; The' war-trump trills upon the gale ; Fair nature's face is rent and riven By bolts dire as the bolts of Heaven ; 00 LAYS AND LYRICS. The war-fiend rides in mantle dun ; His sulphury breath obscures the sun ; He fiercely urges on the brave To gain a name — or find a grave, — A grave without a winding sheet — For ' few shall part where many meet ! * SCOTT. Who comes, alone, with soul of fire, And in his hand the Border lyre ? He sweeps the strings, and in his strain Old times and manners live again : 'Tis Scott ! Great master of his art, He fires, subdues, or storms the heart ! Rapt by the magic of his rhymes, I seem to live in feudal times ; I hear the swelling bugle's call, And see the warder on the wall ; And many a squire, and many a knight. In mail and gloves of steel bedight. Impatient for the fiery fight. 100 LAYS AND LYRICS. The hoary cau-n, the mountain grey, Echo the mighty minstrel's lay. Who roams with him o'er ' Flodden field,' But longs to grasp the spear and shield ; To join the yet unbroken ring That crowd round their devoted king ! HOGG. Who sits in shepherd's garb arrayed. His ' Mountain lyre ' beside him laid ? His crook is idly tossed away ; His flocks have wandered far astray : 'Tis Hogg ! And hark ! that wizard tone, Tells of a world to us unknown ; A land, ne'er seen by sinful eyes. Of emerald vales and cloudless skies. Where all is chaste, and pure, and fair — Yet young Kilmeny wanders there ; Kilmeny of a mortal born, From sin and sorrow early torn ! 101 LAYS AND LYRICS. Let sceptics doubt — to me 'tis clear That woman's half an angel here. But list again — he sweeps the strings That thrill unutterable things. Lo ! Beattie Laing, the * Witch o' Fife ! ' Starts, at the magic sound, to life ; She mounts her birken broom again. And rides aloft in Satan's train ; Or sails to Norway in a shell, Safe in the secret power of hell ; — Such witchery in his harp-strings dwell ! Sweet mountain bard, when shall such strain Fall on our ravished ears again ? WILSON. Say who is he that loves to lie And gaze on sleeping infancy ? Shut is the ear to voice of fame That never heard of Wilson's name I His spirit, pure as opening day, Delights in fancy's groves to stray. 102 LAYS AND LYRICS. And fain would people this rude earth With beings of a heavenly birth. Though vain his views of human bliss, For such a sordid world as this, I revel in his fairy dreams, And dwell delighted on his themes, Which steal upon the pensive mind Like soft breath of the southern wind ; Or slighted lover'^s madrigal ; Or din of distant waterfall. List his wild harp — it breathes anon, A deep, a more impassioned tone ; And as the airy strings he sweeps. The eye of listening Beauty weeps. cease that agonizing strain — Else may the heart ne'er throb again ; May never sigh o'er earthly woe ; — For who with him may safely go 'Mong livid corses breathless lying-— .Groans and shrieks of lovers dying — The last faint accents of despair — Gaunt phantoms in the lurid air — 103 LAYS AND LYRICS. And madmen o'er the midnight bowl — Distract and ' harrow up the soul ! ' TENNANT. Who sings to cheer his moorland hearth, ■ And tunes his potent lyre to mirth ; Whose nimble fancy, bold and free, Fills all around with fun and glee ? 'Tis Tennant — -Momus' merry son ! And hark ! the bridal game 's begun. While Anster's dame, all love and grace, Sits by the king in pride of place, The gazing multitudes applaud her — • Heaven's concave rings with * Maggie Lauder !' The reeling mob confess R-ob's chanter. And kick and rear it to the Ranter. O ne'er beneath the sun or moon Was seen so hot a rigadoon. As when that spirit-stirring air Set all the crowd a dancing there ! Bard of the jocund humorous strain, O wake thy merry mood again ! 104 LAYS AND LYRICS. TO A LADY, ON HER PRESENTING THE AUTHOR WITH A BEAUTIFUL CARNATION, DECEMBER 28. 1832. Take back the flower you kindly gave. No art can now avert its doom ; In vain I would its beauty save From sinking in a wintry tomb. Thus ill-starred genius has its birth — It springs beneath inclement skies, Rears high its radiant head on earth — Blooms for a day — fades — falls — and dies ! 105 LAYS AND LYRICS. LADY CASSILIS' LAMENT. dD Air— The Gipsy Laddie. O ! WAE betide thee, Johnny Faa, Thy looks and words enticing ; Freedom and fame I've lost, and a' Through thee, and thy advising. let not woman after me Forsake the path of duty ; O let not woman after me Exult in youth and beauty ! My een, that ance were bonnie blue. Love's saftest glances flinging. Are dimm'd, alas ! by sorrow's dew, From misery's fountain springing: My hair, that anco was lang and sleek, Wi' grief is fast decaying ; And tears find channels down that cheek Where rosy smiles were playing. 106 LAYS AND LYRICS. Now spring has flung o'er field and bower The garment of her gladness ; While here I sit in prison tower, In mair than winter's sadness : The wild birds flit frae tree to tree — The grove's wi' music ringing ; I was ance as blythe and free As onie bird that's singing ! But now less free than bird of song That gilded wires environ ; My cage a gloomy prison strong, Wi** bolts and bars of iron : — let not woman after me Exult in youth and beauty ; let not woman after me Forsake the path of duty ! 107 LAYS AND LYRICS. FROM PORTSMOUTH ERE WE SAILED AWAY. Am— The girl I left behind me. From Portsmouth ere we sailed away — (For our's a roving trade is), In sweet July, the fourteenth day. Three lovely laughing ladies Came straight on board : the first was Fan — No mortal e'er such eyes saw ! The second — gentle Mary Ann ; The third — was fair Eliza. Her spirits, like a full spring- tide. With joy were overflowing ; She tripp'd about from side to side, Her pretty ankles shewing : Her winning smile and witching eye, That set my heart a-dancing, With grandeur's gayest dames might vie, Howe'er so proudly glancing. 108 LAYS AND LYRICS. A prettier girl was never seen Upon the land or water — In city gay, or meadow green. Since Eve had her first daughter. many a dreary day is gone Since we sailed on that trip, boys ! Yet still I often think upon That girl on board our ship, boys. Then fare ye well, Eliza dear, I may no more behold you ; But let me whisper in your ear A truth that's seldom told you : — Young men will flatter, sigh, adore. And swear but to deceive you ; Then, swallow -like, when summer's o'er. They'll fly away and leave you. 100 LAYS AND LYRICS. THE HEARKENING WIND WI' ANGRY THUDS. Air — Logan Water. The hearkenin' wind wi' angry thuds Raves wildly through the beechen tree ; The sun has derned himsel in cluds, Nor blinks upon the stormy sea. I look far yont the Isle o' May, And sigh to see the whitenin' faem, For my leal lad 's been lang away, Tho' soon he promised to be hame. O wae betide that restless man Wha first the pathless ocean plough' d; He weel deserves the lover's ban Wha ventured there in quest o' gowd : Gowd ne'er can beet the lover's flame, And hame-content it canna buy ; Then haste ye, Jamie, haste ye hame, And nane shall be sae blest as I. 110 LAYS AND LYRICS. A speck at last attracts my eye, Afar upon the welkin's rim ; And now the tall mast cleaves the sky — ■ The signal tells me it is him ! O sodgers' wives hae days o' care, And sailors' wives hae nichts o"* pain ; But sorrow vanishes in air When those we lo'e come hame again ! Ill LAYS AND LYRICS. VERSES WRITTEN ON LEAVING FORT-WESTMORELAND, SPIKE ISLAND, COVE OF CORK. Oft have I gazed from Spike with rapt delight, When Sol on summer eve had ceased to shine, And gorgeous clouds arose — and coming night Threw her broad shadows o'er the burnished brine : Such scene may well the painter's eye invite ; And poet there might pen a prettier line. If wights so wayward in life''s weiry round, Within the massive walls should e'er be found. These scenes have fled ; — the splendid summer''s o''er ; The mist descends, and heavy moans the breeze ; Grim surly * Winter shews his visage hoar,' — And tints autumnal tinge the fading trees. Farewell, green Erin, to thy rock-bound shore ! Forgive me, if I 'm rather hard to please ; I love thy ladies, fair in every feature-^ And Cove has charms for me — the charms of nature I 112 LAYS AND LYRICS. THE RHYMING O'T. WRITTEN FOR THE SECOND ANNIVERSAKY OF THE ANSTRUTHER MUSOMANIK SOCIETY, 1813.(12) Am— The rock and the wee pickle tow. There is an auld town in the East Neuk o' Fife — Sae auld that few ken the beginnin o't ; But the young birkies there hae a great deal o"* life, And o' rhyme they aft try the spinnin o't : There, thinkin and clinkin, they sit i' their ha'. And laughin and daffin drive dull hours awa ; A joy that plain prose men ken nocht o' ava. For the laurel they ne'er tried the winnin o't. The hill o' Parnassus, sae steep and sae hie, O niony's the bard has been climbin o't ; The braw cauler well at its*tap they maun pree, Then their tongues a' wag fast wi' the chimin o't ! H 113 LAYS AND LYRICS. I So we, too, you see, too, — tho' some silly snools Wad blaw us, an' ca' us puir licht-headed fools ; Tho' its vera weel kend a' the lear o' the schools i Could never yet teach ane the rhymin o't ! O the rhymin ! the rhymin ! it maks us a' glad- — My heart how it loups wi' the thinkin o't ! The' baith douf and dowie, we're nae langer sad When ance a' set down to the clinkin o't : It brightens, it heightens our humour and glee ; — Of true men, there's ftw men sae funny and free ; May we write, may we rhyme — may our names never dee — A bumper — ^that a' may be drinkin o't ' 114 LAYS AND LYRICS. CKAMBO ON CHEESE. ADDRESSED TO R H ESQ. ON THERE BEING NONE AT A WEDDING DINNER. Rhyme the rudder is of verses.— Butler. On Rhyme's two stilts I crutch it up Parnassus.— Tennant. I've dined — but still I'm ill at ease — For why ? my stomach lacks the cheese. I try its cravings to appease. But all wont do — I sigh for cheese. * A glass of port, sir ?' If you please — But what is port without the cheese ! * The wine of life is on the lees,' Unless a dinner ends with cheese ! I take a pinch, and loudly sneeze. Sly madam Echo answers * Cheese !' I love a song — am fond of glees — A song I'll write in praise of cheese. 115 LAYS AND LYRICS. If fair Miss Sally touch the keys, To me they vibrate, che, che, cheese ! 1*11 never sue on bended knees, To lady fair that spurns at cheese. The world, in vain, may try to tease The man that is content with cheese. — May you, my friend, live at your ease And never want your bread and cheese : To Mrs H. a lengthened lease Of life's good things — including cheese. Last night she braved the stormy breeze, Got wet — the Doctor lost the cheese ! I'd rather far that his degrees — I mean his muckle M's and D's, Had lost their mark, than we the cheese. May hungry ruin on him seize. That stole, and then devoured the cheese ; Long may he feel what drunkard drees, A burning drouth — sans drink, sans cheese ! Sweeter than honey to wild bees. Or to the fists of lawyers, fees, Is port, or porter, after cheese ! 116 LAYS AND LYRICS. At lunch, I give my heart a heeze. With ale, brown stout, and Cheshire cheese. Though eld my hair should silvereeze, There's youth, and truth, in Stilton cheese. If cold, in winter, make you wheeze. Then clear your windpipe out with cheese. For indigestion — sad disease ! What is so good as mouldy cheese ? Ill fares the man that never prees A rabbit, made of Glos'ter cheese. Had I, on earth, but four Tarees, (13) With them I'd buy a pound of cheese ; Or mouths like the twin Siamese, I'd feed them both with toasted cheese. Till death life's genial current freeze My rhymes shall run in praise of cheese. — Your friendly hand I soon shall squeeze ; Meantime, provide the house with cheese : I'll drink, while you repeat the threes--^ * Hip, hip — ^hurra ! the cheese, the cheese !' While rivers run to join the seas ; While leaves in spring shall clothe the trees. 117 LAYS AND LYRICS. And daisies star the verdant leas, Shall mankind munch their hread and cheese ! E/hymes yet remain, as frieze, and pease, And C's and G's, and E's and T's ; And twenty more as good as these. When next I chant, or chime, on cheese. So having made you my congees, I drop my crambo-clink on cheese I 118 LAYS AND LYRICS. FIRST WHEN I BEGAN TO WOO. Air— Duncan Gray. First when I began to woo, Ha, ha, the wooing o't, I thought my dearie wad prove true, Ha, ha, the wooing o't ; She soon cured me o' my pain, For ae night I saw a swain Kiss and clasp her as his ain. Ha, ha, the wooing o't. Gif sic be their tricks, thought I, Ha, ha, the wooing o't, ' Ana mair kind I maun gae try, Ha, ha, the wooing o't : Aff I set ae rainy night To court my lassie, trig and tight — Never dreamt I'd gat the slight I Ha, ha, the wooing o't. 119 > % V LAYS AND LYRICS. When I reached her cottage door, Ha, ha, the wooing o't. Some chiel had got there before. Ha, ha, the wooing o't : She ne'er bade me come in by, Tho' the night was far frae dry ; — 'Turnin round — ' Guid-e'en,' quo' 1 1 Ha, ha, the wooing o't. In proverb phrase, * third time tries a',' Ha, ha, the wooing o't — A third I'll try, whate'er befa'. Ha, ha, the wooing o't ; Gif like the rest she prove untrue. May the de'il then get his due — (Faithless hizzies, I mean you !) Ha, ha, the wooing o't. Ye 're a mim-mou'd till yok'd for life, Ha, ha, the wooing o't ; Then your words and wants are rife, Ha, ha, the wooing o't : 120 LAYS AND LYRICS. No thought and no care, For life's morning rose fair, And, careless, I ventured to rove, ! How altered the scene ! Life's cares intervene, Nae mair thro' these pleasures I range, ! What gave joy aft before. Now pleases no more. And manhood laments the sad change, ! 125 LAYS AND LYRICS. MY AIN COUNTRIE. * HLajme, hame, hame ! hame fain wad I be, Hame, hame, hame, to my ain countrie!' When the bonnie buds of spring shall deck the haw- thorn tree, O.then rU hie me hame to my ain countrie ! Let foreign bodies boast o' their olive tree and vine, Their skies o' cloudless blue and silvery moonshine ; Gie me the Land o' Cakes wi' its meal and barley bree — there 's nae place like hame in our ain countrie ! The classic shores o' Greece are barren, bleak and bare, Nae primrose spreads its leaves, nor glints, the gowan there ; Nae blackbird in the bush sings his e'enin sang to me— Send me hame, send me hame, to my ain countrie ! 126 LAYS AND LYRICS. ^air, sair is my heart, for lang I've been awa, J"rae frien's that lo'e me dear, an' my bonnie bairns twa ; But the time will shortly come when I'll cross the stormy sea, ind press them to my heart, in my ain countrie. Mediterranean y 1837. ON PARTING WITH A LADY, WHO SAID THE AUTHOR WOULD SOON FORGET HIS FRIENDS. Forget my friends ? say it not ! I leave them with regret ; — Forget I may, but there is one I never can forget ! Ask not her name — I'll only breathe The simple sound in prayer; But could you look within my breast. You'd find her pictured there ! 127 LAYS AND LYRICS. OH! ASK ME NOT WHY THUS I MOUEN. AiB— Gilderoy. Oh ! ask me not why thus I mourn, Why hang the pensive head ; Can joys departed e'er return, Can roses bloom when dead ? O there was one — her name still dear Lives in my bosom's core ; But fruitless is the falling tear — I ne'er shall see her more ! With her I've pulled the sweetest flower. That graced the early spring ; With her I've spent the lover's hour, That quick was on the wing : Spring's early flowers no pleasure yield — The moments linger slow ; — The sweetest flower in nature's field Now lies, alas ! full low. 120 LAYS AND LYRICS. CHEISTMAS. A RUDDER- HEAD REVERIE. Christmas comes but once a-year, But, when it comes, it brings good cheer. — Chkistmas Carol. In that famed place no longer cruising, Where William kissed his * black-ey'd Susan,' (is) Driven by the tide, toss'd by the breeze, Rides the good ship, the Ramillies. Others may * slumber on the ocean,' But we've found out * perpetual motion ;' And things shall go a little hard. If some one claims not the reward. Some stomachs are so very nice, Rolling upsets them in a trice ; And pitching gives them such a fit, Poor souls ! they cannot pick a bit ! Let winds pipe loud, — let billows roar, — We eat and drink like folks on shore. But what is this ? As I'm a sinner 'Tis Christmas, and we've nought for dinner ! 129 LAYS AND LYRICS. Already lour the distant skies ; The angry white- topped billows rise; O'er head the rack is scuddinof fast, And heavy moans the coming blast ; On flagging wing sails slowly by The sea-mew, with a wailing cry. What sad portentous signs are these ? How quick they turn our swans to geese ! Four jolly Mids have we invited, Whose stomachs, no doubt, are delighted ; And shall their fondest wishes ga out Lijce candle- snufF ? Shall then no blow-out Delight the maws of hungry fellows ? Must salt junk fill our empty bellies ? Shall we have nought but beef and biscuit, Instead of soft-tacky fowl and brisket ? Forbid it ! Neptune's watery train. That live below, or *kim the main. Alas ! what will not patience teach ; — The surf is rolling on the beach ; 130 LAYS AND LYRICS. And down comes Lapslie, hat in hand,- — * At Deal, to-day, no boat can land !^ And all our hopes of Christmas fare Vanish, like witches, in the air I The rich sirloin, all smoking hot, Like baser shin, has gone to pot : ^j The goose — oh, name it not ! — the goose ' J^s killed and stuffed for others' use ; Or borne away, on ample pinions, Regardless of our sage and onions. 'Tis clear our evil stars prevail, — We'll ne'er lay salt upon her tail. The fowls have all been * bought and sold ;' The currie is too hot to hold I The mince, so nicely baked in pies, Is fruitless as a sailor's sighs. When fast he scuds before the wind, And leaves his lass and heart behind. The ham, well dried a month before. We only smoke it from the shore ; And, were ife Jews of Abram's line On it might be allow' d to dine ; LAYS AND LYRICS. But no, — at distance here we stand, And only view the promised land. The veal, — pray, messmates, do not frown,- Not it, but we, are quite done brown : The tongue that tickles every palate. Is mute within some butcher's wallet ; The pig on which I thought to dine. Lies grunting with his fellow swine ! And greens uncut, adorn the plain- — M r may green for them in vain. For such ' good cheer ' we may not look, — We all must dine with Humphrey'* s Duke ; Our Christmas gambols we have played ill. And danced to ' Sandy lick the laddie !' To bear with this is not in nature, I therefore vote we cob the cafer. H. M. Ship Ramillies, Downs, 25th December 1823. 132 LAYS AND LYRICS. THE BEAES OF DKEEL. (16) Air— -Roslin Castle. Sweet Dreel ! upon whose gowany braes, Fair Fifan lasses bleach their claes, Where aft I've strayed wi' listening ear, The murmur o' thy stream to hear ; Sweet Dreel ! endeared from infancy By love's fond glance and friendship's tie — By mair than I can e'er reveal, Now I maun leave thee, bonnie Dreel ! The primrose paints thy braes in spring, The birds amang thy bushes sing ; There e'enin' aft has seen me stray, Wi' ane sweet as thy banks in May ; But now, alas ! I maun awa Whar billows roll, and tempests blaw ; Unsung, thy waters now shall steal To join the ocean, bonnie Dreel ! 133 LAYS AND LYRICS. Yet there the hirds will sing as sweet, As when my love an' I did meet ; The gowan fair, the primrose pale. With the same hues shall paint the dale; The sun shall shine as fair on high, Tho' distant far, an' sad am I : Scenes o' my youth ! a lang fareweel, — Adieu ! adieu ! sweet flowery Dreel. 134 LAYS AND LYRICS. STANZAS. Come, Disappointment, come.'— Heney K. White. In the morning of life, ere my sun was well up, How swift flew the moments away ! I never once dreamt I should drain sorrow's cup, But pass in glad frolic the day ! ' Ah ! Hope's airy visions soon fled from my sight, And left Disappointment with all her sad train ; — My sun was soon set — all was dark as the night When loud howls the blast, and the traveller in fright Takes shelter from wind and the rain. Unshelter'd and friendless I bore the rude blast. For Hope would appear to my view Like the moon through a cloud, in the void dark and vast, And beckon me still to pursue. Though rough was the way, I kept trudging along — And nought from my purpose could draw me aside ; For the shade of pale Poverty hovered among The ills in my train, as I pressed through the throng — And I shrunk from the scoffings of pride ! 135 LAYS AND LYRICS. Dame Fortune, blind goddess ! her smile was my aim, But a glance she would never bestow ; So I left the pursuit, without sorrow or shame, Resolving no farther to go. Then Love, maddening Love ! took his seat in my breast, — Disappointment, heart-rending, still followed me there, — For my nymph she proved false, though my soul she possess' d. And Despair seized my heart when I saw her caress' d By a rival of insolent air ! 1 have found that fair woman, like ' life, is a jest,' And happj the man that is free ; — So I flew to my rest, like a bird to its nest. To harbour, sweet Friendship, with thee. A suppliant bends at thy shrine— may he crave That thy mantle may round him be thrown, Then Fortune may frown, and mad Malice may rave, He'll heed not their ire as he sinks in the grave With his sorrows, unnoted, unknown ! 136 LAYS AND LYRICS. A LASSIE FAIR. Air— For a' that, and a' that. A LASSIE fair — the deil-ma-care — Ance lichtlied me and a' that, And tho' I''m poor, you may be sure, I didna like to claw that ; For a' that, and a' that, I 'm hearty still for a' that, I gat the slight, I took it light. And that's the way to thraw that. Gif they should nick you wi' this trick. Ne'er break your heart and a' that, Just glower about, you'll find ane out, Will ease your pain and a' that ; And a' that, and a' that. Your sighs and sabs, and a' that, Sae never dwine about ae quean. There's plenty yet for a' that ! 137 LAYS AND LYRICS. Nane but a fool spurns Nature's rule, To love and wed, and a' that ; Or gin a lass to him proves fause Taks to his bed, and a' that ; And a' that, and a' that, Nae doctor's drugs, and a' that, Will ever prove a cure for love. Like kiss again, and a' that ! Gif I can find ane to my mind. My heart and hand, and a' that. To her I'll gie, baith frank and free, They're my delight for a' that ; For a' that, and a' that, They're dear to me for a' that, I lo'e them still, and ever will, Tho' ane did jilt and a' that ! 138 LAYS AND LYRICS. STANZAS. Bring me the fairest creature northward born. Where Phcebus* fire scarce thaws the icicles.— Shakspeabe. Could some high peak or place be found. Where 1 might scan with eagle eye The landscape, as it lay around — The earth, the ocean, and the sky. There would I build a little bower Upon the mountain's sheltered side ; And nourish there a fairer flower Than Flora's garden can provide. Or, place me in the deepest mine. No more to taste the vernal air ; Give me the maid whose dark eyes shine, And I could dwell for ever there. For, even in our drear abode. Where Sol ne'er sent a cheering ray, Nor silver Cynthia walked abroad — Love — love would make it always day. 139 LAYS AND LYRICS. Love's mighty conquest who can tell? Arm'd with his all-prevailing dart, He leads his captives by a spell. And prisoner takes the wayward heart. Then Love, all hail ! thy votary, I Will worship where my fair one dwells ; Be it on mountain tops so high, Or earth's remotest, deepest cells. 140 LAYS AND LYRICS. MY FATHEKLAND. SOME may think it sweet to roam On mony a foreign shore ; But sad is the heart If we're far apart From friends we may meet no more. Here music floats in the balmy air Frae mony a merry band ; But it breathes na the strain That the heart breathes again. In the lays o' my Fatherland. Here the moon comes drest in her siller crest. And the stars are twinkling by ; But they brund na sae bricht In a winter's nicht. As the stars in my ain native sky. 141 LAYS AND LYRICS. Here the golden orange hangs its head, And the vine woos the willing hand ; But they're nocht to me Like the auld apple-tree That hlooms in my Fatherland. Mediterranean^ 1834. EPIGRAM, ADDRESSED TO A NUMEROUS CLASS WHO ARE * LONGING AFTER IMMORTALITY.' Ye nameless unknown, in wood and on stone What tempts ye to cut and to scribble ? From oblivion's stream would ye fish up a name ? Believe me, ye '11 ne'er get a nibble ! 142 LAYS AND LYRICS. WELLINGTON'S ENTRY INTO FRANCE. AiB— The Highland Watch. Hail ! hero of the Emerald Isle, Iberia's great avenger ! Inured to war with all its toil, Serene in every danger I The foe retires at thy advance. His fate no longer braving ; And proudly o'er the fields of France The British banner's waving. While bowed to dust, Spain scorned to yield. Or crouch to the invader ; Britannia hastened to the field With Freedom's sons to aid her. 'Twas British steel repelled the shock. Their pas de charge and drumming ; Three cheers oft told the Gallic Cock 'Twas Britain's Lion coming. 143 LAYS AND LYRICS. Now Tyranny has fled the plain, With all his dire attendants ; Then shout, ye gallant sons of Spain, For yours is independence ! — Ye who have spread destruction round. Does courage now forsake you ? Beware ! lest on your native ground Grim vengeance overtake you f 2lst October 1813. 14: LAYS AND LYRICS. Nae braggart — but a sodger he, Wha scorned wi' coward loons to flee ; Sae fell aneath the auld thorn tree, Upon that fatal morning ! LINES WRITTEN ON A BLANK LEAF OF THE AUTHOR'S . POEMS AND SONGS, PRESENTED TO LADY J. P. BERESFORD. As when a boy on summer's golden morn — Free from restraint, and careless where he goes, Now lists the linnet warbling on the thorn, Now crops a thistle, and now pulls a rose : So I — oft wandering near that hill where flows The sacred fountain by the gods adored — Have cull'd a chaplet, where few sweets repose. And tied it rudely with a rustic cord ; Now humbly lay the wreath at feet of Beresford. 147 i