3552 
 
 Cf233 
 1789 
 
 Collins 
 
 Ode on the popular Superstitions 
 of the Highlands of Scotland
 
 AN 
 
 ODE 
 
 ON THE 
 
 POPULAR SUPERSTITIONS 
 
 OF THE 
 
 HIGHLANDS OF SCOTLAND-, 
 
 CONSIDERED AS 
 
 THE SUBJECT OF POETRY. 
 
 Inscribed to Mr. HOME, Author of Douglas. 
 
 By Mr. WILLIAM COLLINS, Author of the Ode on the Passions, &c. 
 
 The Second Edition. 
 
 DEDICATED TO THE WARTONS. 
 
 " Mr. Collins, shewed (the Wartons^ in his last illness, an Ode, inscribed to Mr. John Home, on 
 " the Superstitions of the Highlands, vihich they thought superior to his other Works, but which no search 
 " has yet found.'^ 
 
 Dr. Johnson's Life of Collins. 
 
 LOND ON: 
 
 .PRINTED BY J. BELL, BOOKSELLER TO HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS THE PRINCE OF WALES, 
 
 BRITISH LIBRARY, STRAND, 
 M DCC LXXX IX. 
 
 [^PRICE ONE SHILLING AND SIXPENCE.^
 
 PREFACE, 33 5^ 
 
 BY THE EDITOR. 
 
 
 A 
 
 GENTLEMAN who, for the present, chooses not to piibHsh 
 his name, discovered last summer the following admirable Ode, among 
 some old papers, in the concealed drawers of a bureau, left him, among 
 other articles, by a relation. 
 
 The title struck him. The perusal delighted him. He communi- 
 cated his valuable discovery to some literary friends, who advised him to 
 publish it the ensuing winter. 
 
 Mr. Collins, it would appear, by his great intimacy with Mr. Home, 
 and his well-known predile6f ion for Spenser and Tasso, made himself a 
 master in the marvellous that charafterized the rude ages. No wonder, 
 then, that he paints the superstitious notions of the North so pictures- 
 quely poetical ! 
 
 By the public prints we are informed, that a Scotch clergyman lately 
 discovered Collins' s rude draught of this poem. It is however said to be 
 very imperfe6l. The Vth stanza, and the half of the Vlth, say the 
 prints, being deficient, has been supplied by Mr. Mackenzie. It has 
 been published in some of these diurnal papers ; and is here annexed, 
 as a note, for the purpose of comparison, and to do justice to the elegant 
 author oithe Man of Feeling. It is undoubtedly pretty ; but wants all 
 the wild boldness of the original, which is certainly one of the most 
 Beautiful poems in the English language. 
 
 '«jSb
 
 TO THE WARTONS. 
 
 GENTLEMEN, 
 
 Jf HE following Poem, being the long-lost treasure of your favourite 
 Collins, is apology sufficient for dedicating it to you. 
 
 Your mentioning it to Dr. Johnson, as it was the means that led to the 
 imperfeB first draught, so it likewise was the happy means of bringing this 
 PERFECT copy to light. 
 
 If the smallest poetic gem be admired by you, how much more must you exult, 
 on being put in possession of the brightest jewel, according to your own opinions, 
 of your dear departed friend? The world will no doubt, in this, soon join 
 issue with you both, whose talents do honour to your country. 
 
 Gentlemen, 
 
 / am, with great regard. 
 
 Tour Literary Admirer, 
 
 IHE EDITOR.
 
 AN 
 
 ODE 
 
 ON THE 
 
 POPULAR SUPERSTITIONS 
 
 OF THE 
 
 HIGHLANDS OF SCOTLAND -, 
 
 CONSIDERED AS THE 
 
 SUBJECT OF POETRY. 
 Inscribed to Mr. JOHN HOME. 
 
 H, 
 
 .OME, thou return'st from Thames, whose Naiads long 
 Have seen thee ling'rhig with a fond delay. 
 Mid those soft friends, whose hearts some future day. 
 
 Shall melt, perhaps, to hear thy tragic song*. 
 
 Go, not unmindful of that cordial youth -}- 
 
 Whom, long endear'd thou Icav'st by Lavatit's side ; 
 
 * How truly did Cillins prediifl Homers tragic powers ! 
 
 •f A Gentleman of the n^mtoi Barrow, who introduced Home to Collins. 
 
 B
 
 lO AN ODE ON THE POPULAR SUPERSTITIONS 
 
 Together let us wish him lasting truth, 
 
 And joy untainted with his destin'd bride. 
 Go ! nor regardless, while these numbers boast 
 
 My short- liv'd bliss, forget my social name; 
 But think, far off, how, on the Southern coast, 
 
 I met thy friendship with an equal flame ! 
 Fresh to that soil thou turn'st, where ev'ry vale 
 
 Shall prompt the poet, and his song demand : 
 To thee thy copious subje6ls ne'er shall fail ; 
 
 Thou need'st but take thy pencil to thy hand. 
 And paint what all believe, who own thy genial land. 
 
 II. 
 
 There, must thou wake perforce thy Doric quill ; 
 
 'Tis Fancy's land to which thou sett'st thy feet ; 
 
 Where still, 'tis said, the Fairy people meet. 
 Beneath each birken shade, on mead or hill. 
 There, each trim lass, that skims the milky store 
 
 To the swart tribes, their creamy bowls allots ; 
 By night they sip it round the cottage-door. 
 
 While airy minstrels warble jocund notes.
 
 OF THE HIGHLANDS OF SCOTLAND. I ) 
 
 There, ev'ry herd, by sad experience, knows 
 
 How, wing'd with Fate, their elf-shot arrows fly, 
 When the sick ewe her summer food foregoes, 
 
 Or, stretch'd on earth, the heart-smit heifers lie. 
 Such airy beings awe th' untutot'd swain : 
 
 Nor thou, tho' learn'd, his homelier thoughts neglecl ; 
 Let thy sweet Muse the rural faith sustain ; 
 
 These are the themes of simple, sure effect. 
 That add new conquests to her boundless reign. 
 
 And fill, with double force, her heart-commanding strain. 
 
 III. 
 
 Ev'n yet preserv'd, how often may'st thou hear. 
 Where to the pole the Boreal mountains run. 
 Taught by the father, to his list'ning son ; 
 
 Strange lays, whose pow'r had charm 'd a Spenser s ear. 
 
 At ev'ry pause, before thy mind possest, 
 Old Rum'c bards shall seem to rise around. 
 
 With uncouth lyres, in many-colour'd vest. 
 
 Their matted hair with boughs fantastic crown'd : 
 
 E 2
 
 14 AN ODE ON THE POPULAR SUPERSTITIONS 
 
 As Boreas threw his yowig Aurora * forth, 
 In the first year of the first George's reign. 
 
 And battles rag'd in welkin of the North, 
 
 They mourn'd in air, fell, fell Rebellion, slain ! 
 
 " Or in the arched cave, where deep and dark 
 
 " The broad, unbroken billows heave and swell, 
 " In horrid muiings rapt, they sit to mark 
 
 " The lab'ring moon ; or list the nightly yell 
 " Of that dij-ead spirit, whose gigantic form 
 
 " The seer's entranced eye can well survey, 
 " Through the dim air who guides the driving storm, 
 
 " And points the wretched bark its destin'd prey. 
 " Or him who hovers on his flagging wing, 
 
 " O'er the dire whirlpool, that, in ocean's waste, 
 " Draws instant down whate'er devoted thing 
 
 " The falling breeze within its reach hath plac'd 
 
 " The distant seaman hears, and flies with trembling haste. 
 
 " Or, if on land the fiend exerts his sway, 
 " Silent he broods o'er quicksand, bog or fen, 
 
 " Far from the shelt'ring roof and haunts of men, 
 " V/hcn witched darkness shuts the eye of day, 
 
 " And shrouds each star that wont to cheer the night ; 
 " Or, if the drifted snow perplex the way, 
 
 " With treach'rous gleam he lures the fated wight, 
 " And leads him flound'ring on and quite astray." 
 
 * By y'jung Aurora, Collins undoubtedly meant the first appearance of the 
 northern lights, which happened about the year 1715 ; at least, it is most highly 
 probable from this pecuhar circumstance, that no ancient writer whatever has 
 taken any notice of them, nor even any one modern, previous to the above 
 period.
 
 OF THE HIGHLANDS OF SCOTLAND. i (J 
 
 And as, of late, theyjoy'd in Preston's fight. 
 
 Saw at sad Falkirk, all their hopes near crown'd ! 
 They rav'd ! divining, thro' their Second Sight *, 
 
 Pale, red Cidloden, where these hopes were drown 'd! 
 Illustrious William ■\- ! Britain s guardian name ! 
 
 One William sav'd us from a tyrant's stroke ; 
 He, for a sceptre, gain'd heroic fame. 
 
 But thou, more glorious, Slavery's chain hast broke. 
 To reign a private man, and bow to Freedom's yoke ! 
 
 VI. 
 
 These, too, thou'lt sing ! for well thy magic Muse , 
 Can to the top-most heav'n of grandeur soar ! 
 Or stoop to wail the swain that is no more ! 
 
 Ah, homely swains ! your homeward steps ne'er loose ; 
 Let not dank WillX mislead you to the heath : 
 
 Dancing in mirky night, o'er fen and lake, 
 
 * Second sight is the term that is used for the divination of the Highlanders. 
 
 t The late Duke of Cumberlatul, who defeated the Prete>:der at the battle of 
 CuUoden. 
 
 X A fiery meteor, called by various names, such as Will with the TVisp, Jack 
 with the Lanthorn, &c. It hovers in the air over marshy and fenny places.
 
 l6 AN ODE ON THE POPULAR SUPERSTITIONS 
 
 He glows, to draw you downward to your death, 
 In his bewitch'd, low, marshy, willow brake ! 
 What though far off, from some dark dell espied. 
 
 His glimm'ring mazes cheer th' excursive sight. 
 Yet turn, ye wand'rers, turn your steps aside, 
 
 Nor trust the guidance of that faithless light; 
 For watchful, lurking, 'mid th' unrustling reed, 
 
 At those mirk hours the wily monster lies. 
 And listens oft to hear the passing steed. 
 
 And frequent round him rolls his sullen eyes. 
 If chance his savage wrath may some weak wretch sui^prise. 
 
 VII. 
 
 Ah, luckless swain, o'er all unblest, indeed ! 
 
 Whom late bewilder'd in the dank, dark fen. 
 
 Far from his flocks, and smoaking hamlet, then ! 
 To that sad spot were hums the sedgy weed : 
 
 On him, enrag'd, the fiend, in angry mood, 
 Shall never look with pity's kind concern. 
 
 But instant, furious, raise the whelming flood 
 O'er its drown'd banks, forbidding all return !
 
 OF THE HIGHLANDS OF SCOTLAM). IJ 
 
 Or, if he meditate his wish'd escape, 
 To some dim hill that seems uprising near, 
 
 To his faint eye, the grim and grisly shape. 
 In alt its terrors clad, shall wild appear. 
 
 Meantime the watry surge shall round him rise, 
 Pour'd sudden forth from ev'ry swelling source ! 
 
 What now remains but tears and hopeless sighs ? 
 His fear-shook limbs have lost their youthly force. 
 And down the waves he floats, a pale and breathless corse ! 
 
 VIII. 
 
 For him in vain his anxious wife shall wait. 
 
 Or wander forth to meet him on his way ; 
 For him in vain at to-fall of the day. 
 
 His babes shall linger at th' unclosing gate ! 
 Ah, ne'er shall he return! Alone, if night. 
 
 Her travell'd limbs in broken slumbers steep ! 
 With drooping willows drest, his mournful sprite 
 
 Shall visit sad, perchance, her silent sleep : 
 Then he, perhaps, with moist and watry hand, 
 
 C
 
 l8 AN ODE ON THE POPULAR SUPERSTITIONS 
 
 Shall fondly seem to press her shudd'ring cheek, 
 And with his blue-swoln face before her stand, 
 
 And, shiv'ring cold, these piteous accents speak : 
 " Pursue, dear wife, thy daily toils, pursue, 
 
 " At dawn or dusk, industrious as before ; 
 " Nor e'er of me one helpless thought renew, 
 
 " While I lie welt'ring on the ozier'd shore, 
 " Drown'dby thei^6'/^/VV* wrath, nor e'er shall aid thee more !" 
 
 IX. 
 
 Unbounded is thy range ; with varied skill 
 
 Thy Muse may, like those feath'ry tribes which spring 
 From their rude rocks, extend her skirting wing 
 
 Round the moist marge of each cold Hebrid isle. 
 To that hoar pile -f- which still its ruin shows : 
 
 In whose small vaults a pigmy-folk is found. 
 
 Whose bones the delver with his spade upthrows, 
 
 * The water fiend. 
 
 f One of the Hebrides is called The Isle of Pigmies^ where it is reported, that 
 several miniature bones of the human species have been dug up in the ruins of a 
 chapel there.
 
 OF THE HIGHLANDS OF SCOTLAND. I9 
 
 And culls them, wond'ring, from the hallow'd ground ! 
 Or thither *, where beneath the show'ry west. 
 
 The mighty kings of three fair realms are laid : 
 Once foes, perhaps, together now they rest, 
 
 No slaves revere them, and no wars invade : 
 Yet frequent now, at midnight solemn hour. 
 
 The rifted mounds their yawning cells unfold. 
 And forth the Monarchs stalk with sov'reign pow'r. 
 
 In pageant robes ; and, wreath'd with sheeny gold. 
 And on their twilight tombs aerial council hold. 
 
 X. 
 
 But, oh, o'er all, forget not Kildas race, 
 
 On whose bleak rocks, which brave the wasting tides. 
 Fair Nature's daughter. Virtue, yet abides. 
 
 Go ! just, as they, their blameless manners trace! 
 Then to my ear transmit some gentle song. 
 
 Of those whose lives are yet sincere and plain. 
 
 * Icolmkill, one of the Hebrides, where near sixty of the ancient Scottish, Irishj 
 and Norwegian kings are interred.
 
 20 AN ODE ON THE POPULAR SUPERSTITIONS 
 
 Their bounded walks the rugged chfFs along. 
 And all their prospeil: but the wintry main. 
 
 With sparing temp'rance at the needful time. 
 They drain the scented spring ; or, hunger-prest. 
 
 Along th' Atlantic rock, undreading, climb, 
 And of its eggs despoil the Solans * nest. 
 
 Thus, blest in primal innocence they live, 
 Siiffic'd, and happy with that frugal fare 
 
 Which tasteful toil and hourly danger give. 
 Hard is their shallow soil, and bleak and bare; 
 
 Nor ever vernal bee was heard to murmur there 1 
 
 XL 
 
 Nor need'st thou blush that such false themes engage 
 Thy gentle mind, of fairer stores possest ; 
 For not alone they touch the village breast, 
 
 But fill'd in elder time, th' historic page. 
 
 There, Shaksperes self, with ev'ry garland crown'd. 
 
 * An aquatic bird like a goose, on the eggs of which the inhabitants of St- 
 Kilda, another of the Hebrides, chiefly subsist.
 
 OF THE HIGHLANDS OF SCOTLAND. 21 
 
 Flew to those fairy climes his fancy sheen, 
 
 In musing hour ; his wayward sisters found. 
 And with their terrors drest the magic scene. 
 
 From them he sung, when, 'mid his bold design. 
 Before the Scot, afflifted, and aghast ! 
 
 The shadowy kings of Banquo's fated line. 
 Thro' the dark cave in gleamy pageant past. 
 
 Proceed ! nor quit the tales which, simply told. 
 Could once so well my answ'ring bosom pierce ; 
 
 Proceed, in forceful sounds, and colour bold, 
 The native legends of thy land rehearse j * 
 
 To such adapt thy lyre, and suit thy pow'rful verse. 
 
 XII. 
 
 In scenes like these, which, daring to depart 
 From sober truth, are still to Nature true. 
 And call forth fresh delight to Fancy's view 
 
 Th' heroic Muse employ'd her T'assos art ! 
 
 How have I trembl'd, when, at T'aficred's stroke, 
 
 Its gushing blood the gaping cypress pour'd !
 
 22 AN ODE ON TIIK POPULAR SUPERSTITIONS 
 
 When each live plant with mortal accents spoke, 
 And the wild blast upheav'dthe vanish'd sword ! 
 
 How have I sat, when pip'd the pensive wdnd, 
 To hear his harp by British Fairfax strung ! 
 
 Prevailing poet ! whose undoubting mind, 
 Believ'd the magic wonders which he sung ! 
 
 Hence, at each sound, imagination glows ! 
 Hence, at each picture, vivid life starts here ! 
 
 Hence his warm lay with softest sweetness flows! 
 Melting it flows, pure, murm'ring, strong and clear. 
 And fills th' impassion'd heart, and wins th' harmonious ear ! 
 
 XIII. 
 
 All hail, ye scenes that o'er my soul prevail ! 
 Ye splendid friths and lakes, which, far away. 
 Are by smooth Annan* fill'd, or past'ral Tay -f-, 
 
 Or Dwz's j: romantic springs, at distance, hail! 
 
 The time shall come, when I, perhaps, may tread 
 
 *^% Thrtcrvm%\n Scotland.
 
 OF THE HIGHLANDS OF SCOTLAND. 23 
 
 Your lowly glens*, o'erhung with spreading broom ; 
 Or o'er your stretching heaths, by Fancy led ; 
 
 Or o'er your mountains creep, in awful gloom ! 
 Then will I dress once more the faded bow'r, 
 
 Where 'Jomon -f- sat in Druinmond's classic shade ; 
 Or crop, from 'Tiviotdale, each lyric flow'i", 
 
 And mourn, on Yarrow's banks, where Willy's laid! 
 Meantime, 'ye pow'rs that on the plains which bore 
 
 The cordial youth, on Lothian s plains %, attend ! — 
 Where'er Home dwells, on hill, or lowly moor. 
 
 To him I loose, your kind proteftion lend. 
 And, touch'd with love like mine, preserve my absent friend ! 
 
 * Vallies. 
 
 f Ben Jonson paid a visit on foot, in 1619, to the Scotch poet Drummond, 
 at his seat of Hawthornden, within four miles of i'dinburgh. 
 
 X Barron., it seems, was at the Edinburgh university, which is in the county 
 of Lothian. 
 
 FINIS.
 
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