THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LOS ANGELES (\ POETRY CHIEFLY IN THE SCOTTISH JUIMGUAGM. BY ROBERT COUPER, M. D. &c. '"^"O^ — » mortalia facta pcribunt ; Nedum scrmonum stet honos, & gratia, vivax. Multa renascentur, quse jam cecidere ; cadentque. Quae nunc sunt in honore vocabula, si volet usus. Quern penes arbitrium est, & jus, & norma loquendi. HORAT. Flumina amem sylvasque inglorius. VOL. II. ViRG. INVERNESS: PRINTED ilY J. YOUNG. •OR VKRNOR AND HOOD, 31, POULTRY, LONDON. 1801. PR ^9 OB ig C 4 VOL. II. ^^"»""iww^ Pagf, An Address to the Highland Society, 9 War ! War ! 29 Kynophontis Macguldrochiana, 53 Benevolence to James R. Miller, Esq 93 Queen Mary's Soliloquy, 107 Inchstevranna, 131 The Blue-Gown, 139 Kinrara, I47 Glenfiddich, I59 Blairnahoibkan, 171 The Despairing Lover, 187 868753 Castle Grant, 197 The Cummynge, 205 An Address to the Gout, 217 To Paulo, 231 Odes and Songs, 239 Glossary, 271 AN ABBMESS TO THE MIGMLAJfB SOCIETY. AN ADDRESS MIGMJLAJ^B SOCIETY. JtiLAiL, Scottish Patriots ! hail ye a', Frae Johnny Groats to London wa', Proud on my pinion wad I bla'. Your horn o' fame ; Frae Indus' suns to Zembla's sna', Great be your name ! VOL. 11. B 10 an attircissf to tfjc Ye raise a glorious, greedless, band. Whan languor, thriftless, chill'd the land, And poortith spread her shrivell'd hand, Oure hill and dale j And faction's darkhng, ruthless, brand. Made mony pale. Ye raise, girt for your country's weal, To Prince and People kind and leal. To largely see, to deeply feel. In kindest mood ; To put your finger to the seal, O' millions' good ! i^tglilanti ©octet^. 11 Ye're nae that noisy, troubl'd, gang, Wha yelp sae loud, and yowl sae lang, About their ruin'd country's wrang, And waefu' plight, A weel claw'd luif whishts the harangue ; Syne a' is right. Ye're nae that glowring, gabbling, crew, Who cant o' states, and statesmen too. And pierce a' Europe at ae view : Oigh ! Oigh ! ye're deep ! A cat at Potsdam canna mew, But mars your sleep. I'i an atitirwis to tic Ev'n Monsieur lets some things alane ; Our statesman peeps in ilka bane ; A neighbour sets his plough aga'en — He'll space the riggs ; And he maun chap on ilka stane, His neighbour biggs. Ware twa drunk skippers at their prog. In some man-rotting India bog, To quarrel oure meridian grog, Ten envoys gallop ; And haf the warld gets a shog, Wi' this state-wallop. Let thae themsells, and siklike vex, And graine the warld to perplex ; God rattens sends amang our sacks, Sik things maun be ; Praise frae sik gentles never decks My muse or me. Nor praise I them — we start and stare At ae-fauld lip, and manners rare. The man erect his bosom bare. In honest pride — O Addington ! how cam ye there- Lang may ye bide i 14 an aatitwi* to ti^e Yoursell an host — ^truth wings your tale, Frae Amiens' peace, to penny ale ; Mild virtue sometimes will prevail ; But look around. An honest footstep soon may fail. On sikken ground. Thee would I praise — ^but you, a band, Whase hearts spread braid your mighty hand, In comfort, oure a gratefu' land. It's you 1 sing ; Wi' you, ye wise ! I'd share command, Ware I a king. Wi' skill profound, great, ye extend Your varied pow'r, your varied end ; Sweet promis'd bliss, whare, blythe, ye bend, Lifts up its sound ; Whare'er your cheering smiles ye send, It's holy ground. Sweet on yon knowe, the farmer's ha', Deck'd wi blue slates, the barn and a'. They bid the rain, the wind and sna' Drive at their will ; He, honest carle, whiffs awa', Or pries his mill. 16 an atmrwis to tie Whare nature groan'd in deep despair, See how his fields look rich and fair, And pour their fragrance on the air, 'Twas you, ye men ! Your fost'ring hand shed plenty there, Your voice its ken. Whare want and wae blear'd the black hut. See labour's bonny white-wash'd cott ; Stown frae the moor's yon green clad spot. The bairnies care ; The parents smile on their new lot, And bless you there. J^igMann ©octets* 17 Whare the deep moss, a growing ill, Suck'd ilka water, spring, and rill. And whare the heron's gowked bill, Grip'd geds a plenty, The gadsman whistles loud and shill, 'Mang knaps right benty. And see the mighty mountain side, Whare riv'n rocks on rocks did ride, The forest young spreads green and wide. And wi' its wings Strives nature's ruins fast to hide — A crown for kings. 18 an asBre«i«i to t]be O could a' kings see wi' your eyes, The cottage in the desert rise, They'd never blink oure unken'd skies, For savage fame ; They'd clasp their country, and its ties, And bide at hame. Their people's blood wad nae mair gore, The green grass o' a distant shore ; The gowd sae, spent, wad yellow o'er Your Highland hills : And, right, they needna steik the doof, On foreisrn ills. J^fg^IanU ©dcietj* 19 But wha'd be canker'd wi' a king ; Wha is't that rusts the mighty spring, That lifts to heav'n the human wing And bids man crawl. An insect vile, in the rude ring, The wicked scrawl. Aft maun he trust to ither's een, To ither's hands, nae mighty clean. And flatt'ry, ay, that witching quean. Smirks near a throne ; Chiefs ! tak good tent whare ye can lean, Whan nations groan. 20 an auareieijS to tftc O try na, bauld, to bruise the mind. To shape the soul to forms unkind ; The yoke ance fasten'd on the hind, Creeps steady on ; Soon will't the highest, proudest, bind, Syne what's a throne ! What is't — a wretched thing o' times, Wi' follies gilt, and propt wi' crimes j It's bloody hour dread stoiy chimes — The man revives ; New bodied virtue forms new climes, And mankind thrives. Sae the rare bird that soars sae high, Years meet him on the westlin sky. And chill his heart ; nae mair he'll try, His daring flight; He cowrs his wing, and steiks his eye. In deadly night. Life's ember suffers unco throwcs — What will ye, weirdy time, disclose ! Wi' pale blue hght it bursts and glows, A flitting gleam ; A wizzard form right rapid grows, Faint on the beam. 22 an aiitiresjei to tit Frae the red eissels gradual springs, The bird renew'd ; young hfe he brings And, poising on his garish wings, Baith braid and lang, Strong up to heav'n he cheery sings, His gratefu' sang. Nae sae the throne o' Britain's isles. By wisdom rear'd on natures piles, And Britain's love ; proud freedom smiles, Bless'd, oure her plan j And ilka ermin'd point beguiles, The waes o' man. l^tglilattti @ocietg4 23 Great, in the vast expanse thou stands. The dread, the shame o' ither lands, Around thy sons, proud, pour their bands. And bid thee rise, Deck'd by their love, strong by their hands, Grand on the skies. High oure a' nations be thou seen ; Lang be thou blest, as lang thou'st been, Wi George's virtues, George's l^een — Far be their hour ! It's nae thy purple fills their een. Nor yet thy pow'r. 34 an atitireiSiS to tliP It's that blest charm wliich warms the mind» And knits the heart to human kind, Thou aids them there ; loose on the wind Their goodness flies, And round thee strong thy graces bind. Dear in their eyes. On time's braid wing thou lifts them high, A meteor on a dismal sky ; Princes admire — Ah ! could they sigh, And mark the throne, Wliare people's love, and prince's eye. Twine fast the zone ! Thou'rt no — O no— a thing o' times, Wi follies gik, and propt wi crimes. Joyous thou hears thy annal'd chimes, Whare man revives. And speeds thy blessings oure new lands, Till mankind thrives. Ye Patriots ! ay we turn to you. Pride o' the throne ! wi' hearts right fu' . Your hands involve the mighty dew, O' Scotland's pride ; Ye shed it pure and kindly too Baith far and wide. VOL. n. c '16 an Tonteitit to t^? On your strong arm, O let us lean j Let us ay ha*e your fost'ring een j And let na, as cure aft has been Our fate to rue, The trading statesman come atweets Your bairns and yoi.~ Strong times ha'e flash'd red on our eyes j Strong souls ha'e wander'd frae the skies ; A mighty period, bursting, flies, And events dread. Maun oure the vexed warld arise, Wi' ruthless speed. J^{0|)l8nti ©octet?* 27 Or spring young joy, or gush the tear, Ye, to your king, your country dear» Support the man, dread his career, Lang it may be. Or ane hke Addington appear, To you and me. Sac may ye, virtuous Patriots a', Lang brook the hospitable ha', And whan auld age begins to thra* Your weak'ning stride, On the gay sun-beam sail ye bra'. By Ossian's side. WAR! WAK! WAR! WAR! As that thy voice, ill-boding War ? Is that again thy flaming car j Thy bloody banner waving far The vex'd world o'er ? Red» red's its beam, yon angry star. On Britain's shoFC 32 mat! mar! Round and around the storm has play'd ; The pow'rs o' man ha'e been betrayed ; The murd'rous ensign proud display'd, Whare right should charm ; Awhile the bloated brand was stay'd, By Britain's arm. O short's the hour o' velvet noon. While Peace extends her bonny boon ; The olive withers wi' the moon — What art thou, Man ! Can't ocean'd blood, frae Nimrod down; An'est thy han' ? Witt I Witivl 33 It's nae lang syne — Ablest was the day— The bloodless sun stream'd strong his ray ; The arrow's wing was clipp'd away, Pride's bloody child ; The heart, new strung, renew'd its play. And mankind smil'd. Uprovv'd the tide o' prosp'rous joy j Light sung the vane-fann'd cabin boy ; The chieftain strode na to destroy. Smooth was his cheek j The weird hags nae mair employ The cauldron's reek. 34 mar! mitl Now felt the bard his ancient fire ; The minatrel touch'd with flame the lyre, Wisdom again sought to inspire The thoughtless throng ; Religion trimm'd her rent attire, And rais'd her soncr. Then o'er the maiden's face sae clear. The mother's cheek — forgotten fear— Outsprang na mair the gushing tear. When public joy. Rung dreadfu' on the parent ear- Safe was the boy. dat ! mat 1 35 The bustling town, the busy ha' ; The prince sae pleas' d, the hind sae bra' ; The air o' happiness o'er a* Sat saft and mild ; And joy vri* zephyr wing did bla', Sweet o'er the wild. But O that day is overcast ; Fell War renews his dreadfu' blast ; The dark blue blade is girding fast, On ilka side ; The sail swells on the bending mast) Of Britain's pride. 35 mar! mat! War's savage son, in dread array, Has mock'd the l^ng-wish'd halcyon day ; A trembling warld in mean dismay, Shrink at his word ; In pride the scabbard's thrown away ; Red, red's his sword. Foe to the happy, Britain ! he Vows fury's arm on man and thee ; Thy glories darken on his ee. Thy parent pow'r j The frenzy'd mortal does na sec. His fated hour. Qaar! 8S3at! 57 Rise, warrior sons of Albion ! rise j Spread high your banners o'er the skies ; God gave the vast, the glorious prize, Which made you men. And doom'd it sacred in your eyes. Till time shall en*. Rise, gen'rous warriors ! rise and shield. Your virtuous throne, by flood and field. Your laws which meikle blood has seal'd. Your altars fair^ Your firesides, your youth, your eild, Your love, your care ! It's no a frothy statesman's war, Plung'd for a mistress or a star, A plunder'd ship, or islet far, ' Sits on your sword ; It's whether men hke men shall dare. Or brook a lord. It's whether mad, bewilder'd, Gaul, Led by her artfu', murd'rous, Baal, Your bonny towns and tow'rs inthrall. And burn your throne j And clinch around ye, soul and all« Her iron zone. It's whether he, blind fortune's boy, The treason's, poniard's, poison's, joy, Who high heav'n suffers to destroy The human race, .Shall deck you a Parisian toy, High man's disgrace. He, Bonaparte ! nature's rod, Like Satan and the throne of God, He, envious, thirsts for freedom's blood, In Britain's porch — It's her last hold — he flames abroad. The murd'rous torch. 40 SBIat! saar! Great in their proud, unenvy'd, pow'r, Red wi' their country's, kindred's, gore, His legions, savage, press the shore, Wi' ruthless eyes ; Ye murd'rers ! ye return no more. Or virtue dies. Rise, Albion's Warriors, rise and shield, Your envy'd throne, by flood and field. Your laws, which virtue's blood has seal'd, Your altars fair ; Your firesides, your youth, your eild, Youi- love, your care ! JMar! Jnar! 41 Erewhile the Gaul of freedom sung ; The welcome peal row'd sweet along ; Admiring nations echo rung. Up heaven high ; But, O, the feeble anthem hung, Sick on the sky. He woo'd — he ken'd na the meek dame, Her tender heart, her gentle frame ; Wild were his fancies, wild his flame, Proud his demands ; He like a lawless spoiler came, Wi' bloody hands. VOL. II. D 49 QXar! SSXat! He woo'd wi* heart sae proud, sae vainj Unton'd wi' freedom's peacefu' reign ; He woo'd wi' mad distemper'd brain j The heav'n born maid : But black the heart, and foul the chain- She fled dismay'd. Since, like the demon downwards driv'n. Forever thrust frae highest heav'n. Despair th' infuriate wretch has riv'n ; He flounders round ; A while range to his rage is giv'n. And syne he's bound. CETar! mart 4^ Wi' savage heart, and ruthless hand, Frae the Red sea, to Bahic's strand. Each angry judgment o'er the land. Far, braid, and wide. He's pour'd ; and loveless, fix'd the brand. In freedom's side. Affrighted Europe ! sits thou down, Wi' palsy'd armies, riv'n crown, Wi' rotting manners, sunk renown, Sick, sick's thy eye ; Thy strength crawls 'neath a tyrant's frown— O Europe die ! 44 nXat! SSXar! Whare a' thy thrones o' high command, Thy sceptres, and thy titles grand, Thy soldier'd strength, and castl'd land^ Thy people strong ; A ruffian robber lifts the hand — Ye're right, ye're wrong. Still, Albion ! in thy genial breeze; Safe bulwark'd in thy roaring seas. Thy native arm, thy freedom's bleeze, Thy head thou rears ; Thou smiles at folly's mad decrees. And a' her spears. mat! ZSXtitl 45 Thou scorns the dark-soul'd, frenzy'd slave, Not like the man, but savage, brave } He felt thy arm by Nile's red wave, Wi' mad surprise ; And thou prepares yon wat'ry grave. To close his eyes ; To check the madman's reckless rage j To sweep his glories frae the stage ; To hide his cruel iron age ; Low in the deep ; And bid the monster and his page, it'orgotten sleep. . But whare thy glories, ruthless man ! Thy 8wor(J, unmeaning, over ran 111 counseli'd states, thy treaaon'd plan j They bled» they fell ; Thy country mourns thy rav'ning han'j Thy wizzard spell. Thou cruel man ! what's in thy ce ; What looks thou for frae man or me ; Whare dwelk the blessing sent by thee, ' Thou iron son ! If man could fall by thy decree— His hour is run. vast! SDstl 47 Thou, bloody wretch, bora down wi* crimes> Look'st pale at freedom's beauteous climes ; For her thou fought'st in happier times, Pride tura'd thy sword — Now, all that's vUe thy soul begrimes, Thou coward's lord ! Thou, sleepless monster ! midnight's sound, Hurls a* thy cups and daggers round, Mourns freedom welt'ring on the ground. In virtue's bow'r ; And tell* thy gangren'd heart it's bound By gold and pow'r. 48 mar! Sdat! But, O, when ghosts rise grim and grey, Thy friends, thy foes, in dread array, Ev'n thy black soul shrinks, shrinks, away, Frae a' thy times ; Haggar'd and mad, thou meets the day, Wi' gath'ring crimes. A nd this is he, sons o' the Isle ! Wlio with his dark, malignant, smile, Sham'd wi' the thunder's o' the Nile, Looks o'er the deep ; Thy million'd hosts. there, and thy toil> There will ye sleep. iZXar! ^flr! 49 Rise then, ye sons of Albion ! rise, Dear in fair freedom's beaming eyes, Wave braid her banner o'er the skies, Proud be your bands ! O, listen to her sinking cries, Frae distant lands. Around your throne, sae lov'd, be strong j Let ev'ry heart be stout, be young ; In pride roll the red war along, Back to their shore — God save the king — sweet be your song, Your cannon's roar ! 00 <t\ Mux I I see you, heroes o' the deep ! Wi' thunder's arm the ocean sweep j The vaunting foe in thousands sleep, Pale on their shore } Daughters o' Gaul ! lang will ye weep The dreadfu' hour. See a* our statesman, hand in hand, Pour forth the wisdom o' the land j See knowledg'd strength, nae rope o' sand, Gaul's savage jeer ; See Addington a column stand, To Britain dear 1 axxat! asxuxi 5i Rise, heroes ! rise, by worlds implor'd } United counsels guide the sword j The hours o' crafty, mean discord, Is past and gone, Nae mungrel, black-bon'd, selfish hord, Twine rgund our throne. One heart, one voice, one lifted hand^ Frae ThiJe to the Cornish strand, Shew to the fiend an armed land. To virtue dear j On, Warriors ! on, it's heav'ns command, It's voice ye h^ar. 52 QSar! mar! On, on ; thy bruised breth'ren howl, Beneath a wretch's angry growl, The bliss o' man yearns his black soul, Fool ! is thy hand, Left, thinkest thou, without controul. To crush the land. On, on, my Sons ! fell vengeance wreak ! See, high o'er heav'n, the fav'ring streak ! And through— with curhng, bloody, reek, Sunk man's release— The heart of Bonaparte seek Freedom and Peace, KYNOPHONTIS MACGUJLBmO CHIANA, 3In -Etoo Canto?, MACGUJLBJROCHIAHA. Canto S^ixnt, ACGULDROCH was liis parent's son. His parent's son was he ; He cam na to the warld unsought, As Elspet whisper't she. Three tomonths dark in durance close, He kicked and he flang ; Whare ware ye, mighty Science, then. Your son enthrall't sac lang ? 56 ^acguTtir(ic!)tana. Strange signs and wonders mark'd his birtli» About the forty five. Whan heads o' lords and gentlemen, Best on a spike could thrive. His mither grain't — the auld black cat Litter't a tappit hen, Wi' yellow spurs lang on her heels, And spruce she stappit ben : A craw she ga'e sae waldritch wild, Auld lucky in the neuk, Bade the goodman put by his cap, And haste and tak the beuk. ^acguIbrotf)iatt«» 57 Auld Bawty too took in her head. That she had wark hersell ; And anc and twenty spinnin' snails. She whalp't at ilka yelL Hawky ahint the hallau main't. And routed aft and sair j A main lang telescope she calf't, And grane ga'e never mair. The cock ga'e twa three dreadfu' skirls, High frae his sooty trees j The voice, congeal't, fell down a creel O' bonny bread and chcejp. VOL. It. E 58 l59atffullirotStan»» Add grumphie ga'e grunts three or four, And straightway stappit in Sax bears, seven hurcheons, and a mule, To greet the babe within. A wee bit mouse ran thort the floor, Sair hostin' and sair sneezin', Till up their came a microscope Frae its bit strained wizzen. It pranc't amang the bfead and cheese. And up their legs did speel ; Syne it, the auld cat, and the sow, Sprang out, and took a reel. A kail blade buried in the earthy Raise and cam wablin* in, Wi' ilka seed ripe on its ribs, O' a' kail's kyth and kin. Meg's rock shot up a laurel green, Wi' sweetest flow'rs combin'd ; And up the cruick, and randale tree. The bonny vvoodbin' twin'd. Macguldroch press't wi* a* his might To be amang the lave ; Thrice peep't the sun, and thrice withdrew^, Till Mac gat time to ahave. 60 l^acguTtrofJiana, Ye*re welcome, Mac]! hech, sik a babe ! His teeth were lang and foul ; Ane wad ha'e sworn, for lack o' food, H' had eaten haf his soul. His bonny, various, yeelin' frien's Cam a' in bourrochs there ; He clap't the head, he stroak't the bine. The mousie and the bear. Macguldroch blink't wi sapient ee ; The wives yeisk and adore ; Daft Madge swears that the loon was born. At least ten times afore. Tibb snyted Madge's muckle nizz, Till out the purple sprang j Macguldroch straight forbade the pley, And ga'e them a' a sang. He grew — ^the great Macguldroch grew, On butter'd baps and ale ; But strange, wi' a' his perfect gear, « He grew without a tail. Strong wax'd he in the path o' lear ; What night did hear him snore— And he could count a million lan^ Or Tarn could count a «corc. 6it fl9flcg:tt!tiro(|{tmt. He ken't the sun weel frae the moon, The stams he tied in dizzens. The turnip frae the cabbage ken't The peacoks frae the pheasants. He saw whan wind and rain wad come ; He made a braw check-reel, Gn twa trumps bonnily he play'd ; Fouk thought he was the de'il. Ae night whan sweepin* round the heav*ns, Wi telescope sae lang. He saw Mars dance the highland fling. While Venus leogh and sang. Ahint a bush he in the moop Descried a lovin' pair j Nae bonny lass Qzm neajr his cleuckj For aughteen months and main Auld Saturn's beard, sair overgrown, Twa satillites wer^ clippin' } The draps, Uke Mont-Blang, frae his niz Fell on their fingers nippin'. He saw a routh o' comrades auld, In Berenice's hair j And mony a linsey-wonscy clout, On Cassiopeia's obair. Ae day he saw, the car whirl't on, The sun tak snuff and dine ; A comet brought a roasted earth, And mony a sea of wine. Wi' th' axle o' an auld broil't moon He pick't his teeth, and then Took t'other pinch, ilk knot that feU WhirVt round a stam again. He shot a shot frae auld Monsmeg Wi elevation pure ; The ball ca'd oure three four bit stanw, And dang Pckin in stour. •898(guniroc]&lan8« 45 He writ a beuk as big's himsell, Ay and as Euclid clear, That whan the razor raz'd the beard^ It never touch't the hair. Sik routh o' lear ! — far far his fam^ And mony glories flew ; And high amang the sons o* men, His bonny fortunes grew. A gentlemart wi' riches blest, Ga'e him baith meat and claes# And siller routh, to herd the skies. And twa three brockit fleas. €S ^acgulorocBtans* And whan the host of hcav'n gacd right, He ay might peepin' be. To see gin loons slept oure their wark,. Or lassies stealt the tea. Oure flowin' knowledge, deepest Icar, He at the table shed ; His lifted arm a system stout, Or sappy haggies bled. Ae day, haf choak't on fattest trip^, He bade th% Laird perpend, And he wad shaw him tripes and heels. Ay to the warld's end. In bits, like polyps, a huge whang He cut, sair scrcw't his mou*. Syne wi' sax whistles, and sev'n f— .-ts. Ilk bit trots forth a cow. Neist twal rams-horns, wild-crook't and rougb, Which Johnny Armstrong sta', And which for mony a mony year. Hang on the reeky wa* ; He on the table Galvanis't, Ilk horn took its place ; Dread was the fecht — like has na been Since days o' Chevy Chacc. 68 JepacgulDrocStani, An aiken chair baith auld and frail. And rheumatis't right lang. He Perkin't, till it took the floor. And lap, and danc't, and sang. Wi' Franklin's kite, the fient a cloud, He left a spark within, And vvi' them, vessels nae ouresweet, Wi' phosph'rus made him blin'. He Rumfordis't, wi' mukle joy, Whare ane his skill wad thole. And spoil't the broth, the beef, and a', To save a cum o' coal. He too wad prie the drunken air- Black was the day I trow ; For that-day-nine-month Jenny's back Was writhin' like a screw. Whan frae the card he upward lift, His saincted Sunday's ee, Drumfarhne ne'er shaw'd sik a face» As did Macguldroch he. He spavy'd back and fore the room. And grain'd and goggl'd sair— • «< Whare now's the horse shoe 1 brang hame"— He vow'd revenge and mair. . 70 ^ecgulBrocSfana. Down Flavel comes frae stoury skclf, Wi's middins spritualis'd. And Bunyan's louping-on-stane too, Whilk dreich-a — s'd christians heez'd ; And nineteen points, o' gospel whangs To tie believers breeks ; And Sathan's warld invisible. He apens and he steeks j Rough ballads, runkl'd sair, peep'd out, Amang the beuks sae bra' j Ah ! Sathan, bide ye, Guldroch's cleuks Your haifits wcel will claWi Out ourc them a* he cast his ee, His rullion-hand he spread, And thumb'd, and thumb'd, the dog-lug'd leaves^. But fient a word he read. The travails o' the week his soul Press on wi' troubl'd war ; But elect chiels, and their pet lambsi May p — across the square. Wi' haly leuk he ponder'd sair^^- But quietly in his pouch He thumb'd the gowd — O Sathan ! ye, Misleer'd, decoy'd the touch. 72 ^afg:ulDn)cbtan«, He hotch'd, he fidg'd — the foul fiend leugh. Ay, thinks thou, this will do ; 1 need na fash wi' castocks here. Or Hallow-even clew. He thought o' the sax orphan bairns, Wha sing at kirks and fairs. How saft he straik't their curly pows, And bade them say their pray'rs ; How oure Meg Watt, bed-rid sae lang, He grain'd and pray'd sae weel — The shiUing crap na frae the pouch, Nor yet the peck o' meal ; HiHv, ae.day, widow'd Tarn, gaen hamc, Sair wat his shoon and hose. Took twa three peat-clods frae the stack. To mak the weans their brose ; The luckless Tam syne brak a hough — His bed-strae's on the ground — Red fever rag'd — the hungry bairns. Stand, wildly, greeting round ; He looked in — ye see, ye knave, Your Avays are overta'en, Had ye na stown the Laird's ain peats, Ye might ha'e gaen your-lane j VOL. II. F 74 ^acgulurotlitana. The bairns hang on him, greeting sair. They sab wi* want and wae ; He bids them had a back, young thieves. Or he their hides wad iiay j How hyne up in the glen he met Nell linking to the town, I wyte na how the stams reel'd, But she gat haf a crown. Wi* this upspringing frae his chair. He cries, the Elect reign ; Wha'd mingle Howard and his works, Wi' Bunyan's sough and graine ! > Awa' thou filthy covenant ! Sweet grace and faith be mine ! Cauld fa's the trimly moral talk Aside the sough divine. Syne up he lift his voice wi' pith And sang staves thretty twa In Bothwell-brig's right noseskip tvraflg ; Then lang his nose did bla'. Sleep, struggling sair, now steek'd his ecu, Though ay he grain'd and pecht ; And aften jingled in his dreams, The weeks sweet siller fecht. 76 ^icsttlntotlitnt* Vile dreams disturb— he rubs his een. And syne he taks a drani ; Foul Sathan ! ye're ay gaen about ; Ye've made me tyne my dam. Familiar canting wi' high heav'n, Twa hours mair did he rave ; Sair-soughing words twin'd out a while, And graines fill'd up the lave. His pray'rs, his praise, sufficient ware ; It's a' the chosen ken : The spritual joy should never gim, Wi' bootless warks o' men. ■^cgolbroclttna* 77 The dinner bell rang loud and clear j We are na a* divine j Hale frae the table gaed na aught, And bonny was the wine. EHD OF CANTO FIRST MACGUILBMOCHIANA. Canto decotiO* JL o town the laird and lady went— Macguldroch a* was thine, The marbPt ha's and painted bow'rs. To hen-bauks and the swine. Stately stap't he east the wa*, And stately stap't he west. Full fifty years he now had seen, And few his hours o' rest. 80 l^acpHiwcttana. Oure moor and moss, cure hill and dale, Right tenty was his ee ;. , And a' the tykes, and a' the town, Fu* kniefly guided he. Wow ! sair- had care besnaw't his head, And ploughed his knotty brow ; And dapplin' on his camseach chin His thristly honours grew. Boure thought in linsey-wonsey dicht, Blink't frae his drumly ee ; And pow'r and lear, frae head to feet> Baith tykes and taylors see. But castles moulder on the hills. And hills, they tell, decay ; And, like the mid-day gossamer, Man's glory flits away. The laird frae hame, a* was right still, Nae swankies bick'rin* roun* j A preen drap't frae the highest tow'r, Was heard oure a' the town. Furth frae the yett, wi muckle pride, A brankin' greyhound cam j And kevil't in his weel fang't jaws, A gusty bacon ham. 83 ^CjOrtttOtocl^iana* High in the air, wi lugs erect, The guidly prize he bare ; And scourin* nimbly oure the leys, He heard the castle rair. He look't na east, he look't na west, But pey't alang the fail ; For a' the tykes about the town. Ware stourin' at his taiL Arm't wl' the besom at a* points, And he docht swear na mair. Tarn Gulsheoch waddl't oure the greeo, Till his auld shanks grew sair. Oigh ! Oigh ! the wablin* besom shaft, Gat Tammy's houghs atween ; And Tammy's honour forthwith lay. At end lang on the green. But wae betide th'unsonsy rung ! It met his luckless niz ; And cure his face, and oure the swaird. The bluidy bumie raise. Now ellritch din, and screamin' yellsj Through a' the castle rang ; And hungry wames in Rino's lugs Their left hao't blissin's sang. «- 84 S^tisvUnvoc^imt* Wi ruefu' face, and hirplin' trott, Gash Mistress Jelly cam Fast through the passage, chirmin' sair, Alas ! my bacon hgjn. My bacon ham, my table's pride, Th' unseely tyke has ta'en ; O Maister Guldroch ! speed thy fit, Or a' our dinner's ganc. Och ! Och ! my ham, my bonny ham, Lang beam't thou in my ee ; Wha was't that cur'd thy bonny hip, Ah, wha was it but me ! The skaith was ane ; the nourice now Heard a* the din o' weirs ; The baimie in the cradle coost, Syne caper't wi her feres. Sae stark, sae fat, sae full o' speed. She oure the Mistress dang ; And baith outoure the auld bhnd dagf They row't and tumbl't lang. He caught the nourice by the hip, Syne she essay't to flee, But oure again on Mistress coup't ; Sair, sair misfuirt was she. Macguldroch heard this mighty dirr, And down the stair he cam ; Soon, soon, the tidings rang fu' loud> O' Rino and the ham. He ferly't at the fiendlish day, And troubles o' the Ian' ; Syne flourishin' his billax sheen, He coost his coat and ran, Outoure the leys wi mony a spang Till he foreran the win' j But, Och ! his haste mischiev't his speed- He ran till he was bUn'. 9^usvXat9tfiimtu 87 Swith in a sleugh at a' his length He on his riggin lay ; And deep and sair the bluidy ax, Had cleft his mickle tae. O Rino ! Rino ! loud he roar*t, To thee I was right kin' ; Vile scunyvaig, why did ye steal. The remnant o' my swine ! Weel ken't ye a* the hungry wames. That ee'd the pat sae rare ; Weel ken't ye whan the swine was gane, The de'il a flee was there. 88 ^acfi^utcrocl^tana. But damn't — forgi'e me — greedy tyke, Though thou hast won the day, Wi mornin's sun this billax sharp, Shall lop thy head away. Och ! Och ! the tae is streamin' fast. In troth, e'n this may kill ; Gi'e me till mom there's nae a tyke Shall ha'e his bluid to spiU. Shame and despair roar't in his hause, And pain his heart did wring ; While shriller ootes, baith lang and loud, Gar't a' the castle ring. Sair travail, ancient mistress^ this, A drap or twa does weel ; The nourice skinks the sonsy cup. And lets Macguldroch squeel. Sudden high noon was overcast. And murky night sat down ; The sun and moon at ither's beck't ; Earth's guts seem'd wamWin' roun'. Like swallows on the steeple tap, Starns sat on the moon's horn ; The tides ga'ed a' wrang oure the craigs— . I wish we saw the morn. VOL. 11. G 90 ^acgulBrocJiana, Kail castocks thumpit through the fog ; Thick show'rs o' turnips fell ; And boil't potatoes flew like stour, Frae whare they ken't themsell. Strange lights, frae a' the castle-bow'rs, Blink't out sae pale and blue ; The doors, though lock't, flapp'd loud and aft. And red the winnocks grew. Besoms and telescopes right thrang, Wi' spits and swords sae sheen, Majestic through the gateway pass, And travel oure the green. Sax flannin sarks, sax gouty shoony Cam on the dinsome light ; The brockit fleas, the stockin't lice. Ware faintin' wi the fright. A thousand bats scud through the gloom j A thousand rattons rin ; Taids travel forth at ilk^ door ; The howlet howls within. The maukins hirple round the yett ; The tykes they yearn and yowl j The hoody-craws perch on the porch ; The jackdaws in the bowl. ©2 ^acgufaroflbfana; A thousand pyats chatter round, Whare lords and lairds ha'e din't ; And cauld-hough't paddocks loudly croak Whare eager lovers pin't. Loud, like the bittern in the bog, Macguldroch moan't his wound ; Hear ye yon sabs — they're unco deep — His hearts-bluid's on the ground. He growl't — it troubl't a' the wind— The sound it fail't and fell- Nature returned— Macguldroch sunk, Wi' a' the Waldritch spell. JBEHEYOJLENCli TO JAMES R, MILLER, Es^. EENEYOJLENCE. JLow to thee, Heav'n ! O let me bow, And pour the single hearted vow ; Thou binds the fillet on Man's brow, And bids him rise ; Arbund his heart blyth plays thou, now. Sync wide's thy skies. 96 Xtnt^mlttitt, He, led by thee, courts nae renown, Nor hirples near a tow'r or crown ; For man he hves ; and saftly down, Life's broken vale, His goodness, dew'd wi' roses roun', Sweet speeds the gale. He, soo of nature, full of thee, In humming crowds, or 'neath the tree. Unheeded, like an angel, he Move's silent on : The light'ning heart, the drying ec — There — ^there's his throne ISetwboienct, 97 Cauldiife the honest man looks on The rising and the setting sun j Duty fills up the task begun ; Nae heart is there ; Age smirks o'er kin, and warld won, In crimson chair The balanc'd thought, the balanced deed. Twine his sma' honours round his head. Alack ! they live — they canna spread- Right thin's the soil ; AfFe£Uon never vvarm'd their bed, Or sped the toil. 98 TBenetoTencef O cousin'd thought ! whare shall we lean ? The tribe — the clan — the cottage bein — ' Lang knit the knot, weelfelt, weelseen ; Past fails the tie ; The palsying warld's breath streams in ; Kinn'd embers die. The orphan wanders o'er the wild ; The patriarch blind speers for his child ; The widow'd matron, broken mild — Is this the bloom Blood lang time pour'd — sair, sair defil'd, Nae far's thy doom. BenrtoTenct. 99 Chill friendship trims wi' pompous art. It's lamp to warm the aguish'd heart ; But pale it blinks its feeble part. Its dubious spell. Oft will'd delusion — whare thou war*t Death's lip may telL Hear thou thy tale frae maiden's song j Thy motely garb see in the throng ; But whare's thy spirit, yare and young, Flaming around ! Wha saw it move in joy along Wi* honours crownM ! 100 3Bet«t)oIenre» Wha whet the edge of Brutus* sword, Or fix'd on Pompey's arms the cord ! Yon bosom bolster'd Essex's lord, Yet bade him die ; In Mary's blood it, murd'rous, gor'd Life's ev'ry tie. The great lets down a silken e£ On pale-fac'd misery, and me ; Benevolence seems in the glee ; Proud, proud' s the day ; -Sae gracious kind, sae courteous he, Ane needna pray. BenetoTetwt* 101 The meteor glimmers ; faint's the ray ; Another whim fills up the day ; The thought, half-formed dies away. But vvha may chide. The gowden pow'r, the titl'd sway. The nation's pride ! Again it glents, yea ! and again, Age coming tries th'araneous chain ; But guilt-born frowns, and proud disdain. Light up the brow, Wharc kindness thou could never reign, Nor virtue thou. 102 ^Uencbolcncc, Thee charity ! sae cramp, sae cauld ; Thy heart in fetters mony fauld, Or sin or death may overhauld. But ay thou'rt wise ; Thy brother tholes yon storm sae bauld- Huge spittals rise ! O weary vvarld 1 painfu' thou Rests on the wae-worn wrinkl'd brow ; O whare shall hope and comfort glow. When things hke these, In millions spring, in splendour row. Curse of our days ! lBetwtioI«ice» 103 Not yet the angry spirit sings. Who black'nd Sodom's silver springs ; Though aft he trims his flichtering wings^ Or spreads them strong j Sweet nature yet saft strikes the string*. And Ufts her song. Benevolence, sweet as the morn, On ev'ry virtue's plumage born, Unbarg'ning Ufts her plenteoils horn. Yet on the sky ; Lang be't afore thy beam is shorn, Thy spirit die. 104 ISltttfbtiitntc. Thou, Miller, who in eddying ways. In luckless hours, in luckier days. Far fr^ the voice o' pride or praise. With sainted heart. Thy mite, thy full hand, unseen raise- A vision's art. Whence good could come thy heart was yare j Thou heard the tale of ancient care ; To others' wants thy breast was bare, Mair than thy ain ; Nae cauldrife friendship shiver'd there, The warld to hain. ^Senctjotencc, 105 Whare pouchless youth, pensive and blae, Press'd up life's wear)', hopeless, brae, To rise, to meet a kindlier day, A milder end ; There was thy arm — ilk clime can say Here's Miller's friend. Weel may my heart spring up to thee, Wi' trembling lip, and wat'r)- ee, Whan angry times sat sair on me, My James was there ; A father's voice, a mother's knee, An angel's care, rot. II. H 106 :iBenet)oIence. Let's trust, my James ; the sparks alive ; Let's hope ilk heart with thine will strive ; Sink, sink the ground whare villains thrive, Whare virtue pines ; Heav'n speed the garland millions rive. And goodness twines. J Cbe @)oUlo(iui) OF MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS ON THE MORNING OF HER EXECUTION. QUEEN MARY'S SOJLIJLOQlUY. JL HIS is the morn, on slow and ling'ring wings. Fate seeks my bow'r, and at my window sings ; My bowV ! long in my dreary dungeon vile, My tears have woo'd thee, and my boding smile j The distant sound grows on my list'ning ear, And angel-minstrels in the choir I hear • O they approach, and sweet's the solemn sound. Which, Man*-, sings thee to the cold, cold, ground. 110 flaucett J^arc'iSf eolflo^tig. Ye ministers of grace, O will ye fly, My ardent soul to beckon to the sky, To dry my tears, to bring one welcome day, And bear my long, long, murdcr'd life away. Unconscious pass the moments o'er my mind. Till, glad, I leave the weary wreck behind ; Though former deeds rise on ray pictur'd soul. And former days strong o'er my mem'ry roll, Though reason toils, and conscience' dreadful spear, Probes all my bosom, ev'ry smile and tear. Yet O, with angry eye, they cannot lour. To fix one film on Mary's latest hour. Son of the Cross ! O bend thy eye on me j Eternal love and freedom come with tlie£ ! SXwtn fiS^arg'jS ©oUIoqu?* lU Ye too are welcome, ministers of crimes, Ye strong abettors of enormous times ! Who lust for agonizing pow'r and gain, And weary falsehood's dark, malignant, train ; Who pour alike the blood, the endless sigh— The God of love permits you, so may I ; For, . O, on sooty, and malignant wing. The long plan'd murder triumphant ye bring. Which sends your queen despair's unending sigh ; Which sheds my blood, and springs me to the sky — Ev'n ye are welcome — Mary's closing hour Courts not the eye of pity or of pow'r ; Alike to her her head rolls streaming round, Her body tumbling on the gory ground j J 12 SHuttn a^ar^'iet ©oliloquj* Or on the pillow, smooth'd with tears and sighs, She stretches out her woe-worn limbs and diea : She trusts, when the long record meets her eye. Her rest's forever on a blessing sky. Oh ! Oh ! I'm cold ; chill through my freezing vein?, The monstrous dreg of monstrous suffering drains. The cloud away, which press'd my soul so long. Seems still to hover, black with all its wrong. But look I back ! these mouldy walls have bees. The purpPd palace of a queen-born queen ; Long on my lap has fall'n my frozen breath, Mix'd with my tears, upbraiding life and death : For year on year, black, busy demons flew. Wet with dank vice's pestilential dew. ©ucen Sj^tivfg ©oliloquj. 113 And sought, envenom'd, the long night, and day, To blast my fame, to take my life away : A tyrant led, whose blood ran in my veins ; Her head, her heart, the dregs of sorrow drains ; A tyrant's pow'r fell heavy on my head — Its worst is kindness, and the arrow's sped. But still ye roll, ye tear-worn eyes of mine ; Thy hold, O nature ! checks not heav'ns design j The deep crap'd block 1 nailing hear for me ; It's heav'n thy wise, unfathomed decree ; The gleaming ax, reeks in my steady eye ; Still, earth ! I heave the tributary sigh. Can yc yet waken on my passing soul. Can early loves, and infant feelings roll j 114 fl&ueen B^itfg ©oTtlopf. My father's tovv'rs, yet brood ye on my mind, Where all were faithful, and where all were kind ; Ye scenes, O Forth ! rewake my infant sigh ; My kindred nobles glisten in my eye ; And round and round a love-rib'd people's seen, Proud of their Mary Ban,* their infant queen ! Curs'd be that mom, when idiot-statesmen's eyes, Saw vacant grandeur in their visions rise ; But not the victim queen, the fated lord. The friendless friendship of the flaming sword. Curs'd be that morn — that morn my kingdom fell ; A demon's purpose, and a hag's black spell. * Mary Ban is an affectionate name given by the Scotch to their beloved queen even to this day. B^n in gaelic signifi<.5 fair, or in a more general sense beautiful. Thy name, proud kingdom, vilely pass'd away Thy throne, thy tombs, fast in their ashes lay : A scorning nation, prop'd with thee, and thine. Will bulwark Europe, and forever shine. I mourn the breeze, I mourn the day serene, Which sent thee, France, a daughter and a queerr. O little knew I the young heart, and vain, The hollow statesman, and the courtly traiq, Where were ye, angry spirits of the deep ! To lull my slumbers in eternal sleep. The mercheand wealth is scatter'd o'er the shore ; The living castle sinks to rise no more ; The sea-beat sailor's plunged in the main ; But deep's thy cup, thou Mary ! hast to drain ; 116 ©ueen S^atfg ©oliloqu?. Or on the roaring clifF, or sounding sea, The hour is short, alas ! to all but thee. Rapt with new joys, the laughing years flew round j My little feet trode visionary ground. Soft pleasing smiles, and seeming kindness shone, The -tissued drapery of a vamish'd throne ; Crowns, sceptres, truncheons, pride and beauty's mien j The peasant's brow, the soldier's blood unseen. Bom to a throne I felt the pleasure less. But still the round was pleasure in excess. Short the career ; soon fell the gaudy scene. And clos'd forever on the youngling queen. Regardless death ! thy ruthless arrow flew ; The ciinison'd curtain thy dark angels drew ; S^tttm ^zrfg ©oTtIoquu» 117 Thy foot was strong, thou pressed to the throne ; And Mary ! Mary ! thou art left alone. The soulless statesman sees thy use no more ; Kind he returns thee to thy native shore ; But the vile wizzard sold thee to thy doom, A life of sufF'ring, and a bloody tomb. O, had I never left — sit still thou tear — A doating people, and a kindred dear ; Forgone my tow'rs, my tow'rs of grey renown ; Forgone my hills which health and pleasure crown j But in my court, though rough, sped honest case ; Gave virtue's smile the charm alone to please ; Bade courtiers think, and bloodless statesmen feel j And churchmen love the cross and commonweal. 118 Slueett QDarp'^i ©oTtTotitiii. But, O, these joys were ne'er rcsa-v'd for me ; The patriot hour sunk, Mary, fast on thee. Who saw thy kind revolving Scottish sun ? Thy turf was cut ere half thy years was nni. Unhappy Mary ! long thy royal line Liv'd rich in fame, and bade a kingdom shine ; But ye, hke me, ye sons of high renown, Your studded coffins follow'd fast the crown ; Ye reign'd, my fathers ! few your hours of rest, The secret steel, or ruffian at your breast. Ye reign'd, ye fell — O, was't unexpiate crimes. Or roughest manners of the roughest times ? Your gloomy halls, unlike the fairy scene Of Scotland's Mary, France's augur'd queen. SSmtm ^ar^'iS feoItIoq[ttj. 119 Receiv'd me happy from diat joyous shore, But bade me, friendless, look for joy no more. Soon, soon the dream, the air}' vision fell. Beneath the dark, the unrelenting spell. Deep fawning statesmen hover'd ever round ; Dark-visag'd churchmen press'd me to the ground, And, black w^ith crimes, for my devoted hfe A guardian brother whets the murd'rous knife. My doom, O Scotland — thy proud banner tore. — Was flx'd, relentless, ere I reach'd thy shore Unhallow'd men, unhallow'd counsels join'd, A kindred queen with faction vile combin'd, A kindred queen, in dubious honour bom. The bruised child of obloquy and scorn j 120 fllueen ^arp'is ©oHIoqitf. Alas ! thy dungeon'd youth wrought nought but rago And guile> the tutors of thy years and age ; All all combin'd ; ye too the frequent sigh. The pensive moment, and the humid eye, My youth, with kindness, unsuspicious grown, Ye all are crimes to hurl me from my throne. The lust of pow'r might dark-soul'd Murray sway ; A misled people feel a tainted day ; But thou, great queen, with pow'r and honours crown'd. Thy heart was blacken'd, and thy soul unsound. Or never never would th'anointed hand. Have flam'd the torch of treason o'er the land. Black oft thy prison, Princess, didst thou see Thy omen'd death, and canst thou think of me. SXuem tparg'si feoltloqu?. 121 O wlio'll bind up the raging jealous soul. Who dark, vindictive, murd'rous, pow'r control ! Rage wild may fury, perish foes and friends, But conscience wakes a sound which never ends. By deepest guile, with thoughtless passion's aid, To worthless beauty was my heart betray'd. Love looks not far, and weak its flutt'ring wing. Its hour unsteady as the mom of spring. The gaudy rainbow faded on the skies ; X.ost to their schemes the victim'd Darnley dies. Driv'n by their craft he sought my friendless life ; Fall'n by their hands he mark'd th' unequal strife. Ill-fated youth ! the light'ning burst on thee. But the fell bolt was level'd red at me. VOL. 11. I 122 fltttteen ^atr^'si ©oltlogttp. Restless the bloody monster urges on, And fiend-led presses on my life and throne. The rushing spirits mingle in his eye, Which nerve his arm, or at his signal die. Thou bastard, bloody, chief, could nought appal? Thy horrid soul, and tell thy tearless fall. Ill-fated Bothwell ! child of Murray's wiles, My ancient barons poison'd by his smiles ; By fraud, by force, thou raurder'd Mary's fame ; Unwitting lord, thy crime was now the same. Now sicken'd on thee all thy peijur'd band ; Proud wav'd their banners o'er a bloody land. The trimmed sacrifice was now to shine. And thy red blood a channel be to mine On ev'ry hill the treason'd legions shone. Few few the chiefs around the shaken throne. And there) ev'n there, a lurking poison lay^ Tlie parent, Langside, of thy fatal day ! O thou dread field ! black black thy dismal hour !— • Thou, Solway, clos'd on all my pride and pow'r! Ah, Mary Ban ! thy single heart led on, And led forever from thy birthright throne. That queen who leans her heart, her soul, to thee. That queen, O Mary ! thou wilt never see : Thou'lt feel her triumphs, feel her treach'rous pow'r, And the red axe close in thy fatal hour. Th' untainted chief, the priest, by Solway's stream, Strove to disturb the fascinating dream. 124 fllueen cparfiei ©oltloqu?* Uplifted hands abjur'd the faithless queen, And wisdom's lip denounc'd th' inviting scene. But fate was there ; wild roll'd my streaming eye. On all its honours, or prepar'd to die ; Worn with the woes of butcher'd pow'r and fame, I sought, O me I my birthright and my name. A ghostly thing among the crowd appears, The shapeless ruins of an hundred years. Her wither'd hands spread trembling to the sky. The tears fast gushing from her sunken eye, O Mary, cry'd she, seek thou not yon shore. For cross that stream, thou'lt never cross it more. Tomorrow's sun thy prison bars on thee. Till the grim headsman sets thee, Mary, free. flttwen B^at^g ©oIiIoq[ttg» 125 I plung'd— I pass'd ; the angry light'ning flew, The roaring thunder on the tempest grew ; CrefFel and Skiddaw groan'd on Solway's side, And the dark dungeon clos'd on Mary's pride. O heaven forever just, I bend to thee, Could'st thou, severe, heap misery on me ! Did ancient crimes creep in my tinged blood ; Or sprung young guilt green on my infant bud ! My life, my woes, pass on the passing gale, And all my friendships on the scaffold faiL May these, if angry angels guard the throne. With mercy's tears, and Mary's days, atone. Yet, yet O feel I, on a coast so drear, No gloomy boding, aud no guilty fear j 126 flltwen ^fLtfg ©oTfloqu?. 1 look with joy, ye spirits, to that hour, When the red axe ends tinte's unsated pow*r. Yon, yon^s the block — I hear the rustling screen, Which falls forever on an injur'd queen. I come — life's sable curtain's long been drawn, The gloomy prison clos'd on Mary Ban. The dewy walls, the stinted air and sky, Have broke down life, and sunk the ageless eye ; That face, that form, my nation's love and pride, Wliich plung'd the dagger in a rival's side, That dagger whence unnumber'd ills arose. My bloated fame, my multiplied woes ; Where are ye, charms ! has grief her wrinkles wove, With strong disease the moulded figiu-e strove ? Affliction brooding on the night and day. And this her wreath the tress so long and grey ! Alas ! my bosom ; where, with all thy throes, My aching brow, O where were your repose : Thou, child of God, rehgion, thou wast there, To bind my wounds, to soothe my frenzy'd care, Thou bad' St the hour to pass, the dungeon shine, The soul of peace to be forever mine ! Thou coward queen, foul pride and passions slave. Dark in thy crimes, for guilt is never brave ; Thou cruel queen, where then thy bloody sword» Thy well mixt goblet, and thy secret cord j My death was fix'd in thy rank gory soul. Long ere my eye saw Solway*s waters roll ! 128 Siuttn S^arfg ^oUloqnt' Dark, dark in blood, didst thou for coming times, Spare me a tool for all thy purpos'd crimes, And when thou wsh'd to weed a life away, Devoted Mary flare in poison'd day ! In her wild efforts for her throne, her life. The strong, the fear'd, thou mingl'd in the strife ; And the dark plot, the creature of thy fears. Or fram'd by thee, has wet the Isle with tears ; The best of blood has stain'd thy ruthless hand. Dark counsels, danger, chill'd thy wear)' land. Thy pride, thy lust, have, frontless, brav'd the day ; Thy midnight sword their victims pass'd away ; Ev'n youthy crimes grow with thy glutted days ; And goodness shivers at thy pow'r and praise > But ev'n thy art, thy cunning's deep control. Hide not thy wicked pow'r, thy rankl'd soul. Think, envious queen, the doom is past on thee By heav'n, which, proud, thouthinksthou'stpast on me. The gate from life, O queen, is mine, is thine ; The beggar's footstep, the long purpl'd hne ; There, there no more thy slaves shall screen thy times, Thy maidens bait thee with thy blasting crimes ; Thy statesmen, groaning, see an angry sky. Like thee they tremble, and like thee they'll die. All, all will leave thee, thou unvirtuous queen. Thy couch abandon'd, and thy pangs unseen ; And if cold duty mark thy closing day, Thy gnawing soul will chase the form away. ISO Sitittti S^nvfg ©olflfo^ug. Farewell, thou queen, and may that peace be thinc^ Which, cruel, thou refus'd to me and mine. I come, I come — Almighty Father ! thou. Who, wrap'd in thunder, from mount Sinai's brow. Bade long lost mankind know thy voice again. Thy 'mmeasur'd being, and thy endless reign ; And Thou ! who from the cross, who from abov§. Bequeathed universal peace and love j I come — my earthly hour's forever gone ; I see the glories of th* Ahnighty throne ; O gentle Spirit ; strong thou points the way. And the red block begins my gloried day. TNCHSTEYMANNA. INCHSTEVKANNA. 7\h, Mary ! see, the hour is come — Adieu, ye scenes of dear delight ; Ye joys so pure, farewell — farewell The happy day, the tranquil night. To these lov'd rocks, to these lov'd trees. To Lomond's lakes, a last adieu j In my fond heart, O what's the scene, Can e'er obliterate them or you ! 134 3lttt5x(te6ramia. My Mary dear ! come to my breast, It leans, it heaves, it bursts to thee ! Death's hand will never anguish bring. Like what thy red eye pours on me. When Sep' rate far by cruel fate, In airy dreams, O visit me ! We'll weep and wander o'er the past j And mark each hallow'd rock and tree- On fancy'd waves, in fancy'd glens. We'll sing the ruddy rising morn ; We'll pant beneath the mid-day sun. And ev'ning's dew breathe from the thorn. Slncfijeitetiranna* 135 O Inchstevranna ! in thy clouds. Where nature ev'ry charm bestows On thy broad side, soothe thou my mind. And guide my heart to calm repose. O Maiy ! had it been my fate. In glens recluse to live unknown, This fragrant wood had been my world. This little turf had been my throne. When rising morn the dark-brown heath Adorns with her broad purple beam, There, wliere my infant mind outsprung, We'd wander by the winter stream. 136 3iticlstt\ttmn9, There, free from all the thousand cares, The feeling heart that pierce and tear, We'd wear sweet friendship's warmest robe, Like yon two friends — yon happy pair. Fast by yon wildly wand'ring brook, Which weeps the sun's last parting beam, Sacred to friendship, mountain dear, We'd rear an altar by thy stream. Around the laurel's shining leaf. Around the ivy creeping too, Should turn the wint'ry chilly blast, The summer beam, and ev'ning dew. 3Iiic|iieitci]ranna, 137 Tlsere with my Mary would I rest, Sing of thy friendship, sing of thee ; And when time's angry eye withdrew, The altar'd turf's for thee and me. But, ah ! how painful, how severe ! From all that's dear I must depart ! O Inchstevranna ! at thy foot, I leave a poor, a broken heart. Farewell, sweet maid ! — forbear, ye tean ; Ye hills, ye woods, ye lakes, adieu ! Be thou, my Mary ! heav'n's best care— And think of her that lives in you. TOL. II. K THE BJLUE-GOWN^S STOMT » THE BJLUE-GOWM. JMLay peace be here— O may her blessings all Smooth o'er your age, and on your children fall ; Long may your song the rosy morning greet, And suns descending your meek homage meet ; Late be the harvest of your rip'ning years ; And many an eye bedew your grave with tears ; So may your souls a sigh of pity bring. To bid my wither'd heart with gladness sing. 142 ^5e IBItie^cS-aten. Once I, like you — how many blessings mine ! Bade life and love o'er all the village shine. Content dwelt proudly on my earthen floor ; And age and want ne'er trembl'd at my door. But glory wak'd my secret sigh — she came With honour, panting, from the fields of fame. Strong were the pictures these wveet ajagels drew ; Ev'n thie poor Badge beside the Truncheon grew : Yet, yet I ki$s it ; though not grand the prize. It warms my heart, and glistens in my eyes. Some virtue twinkles in thy feeble ray, Thou token small of many a bloody day ! In pride I danced to the tented plain j And braved death in many a hard campaign. These limbs, not maimed then, the battle sought ; Their scars now tell you how the soldier fought. But ill it fits him, vaunting, to proclaim The various deeds which mark his humble fame. In all my toils, in all my wants and woes, Thou, lovely Mary ! gave my soul repose : Thine was the heart to feel, the charms to bind The restless wand'rings of the harrow'd mind. Ne'er o'er thy face did swelling passions roll ; No sickly cares consum'd thy gentle soul j All smil'd around thee — war forgot to reign. And caught the tide of joy in every vein. Why didst thou leave me, Mary ! chide thy skies— ^ No hand but thine should seal thy soldier's eyes. 144 CSe 'ISlut'^&ii^atu Dost thou behold me, Mary ! — O, my love ! Alas, far from thee in thy realms above !■ — Dost thou behold me, aged, lame, and poor, A shiv'ring beggar at a bolted door ; Driv'n with the vile to the loath'd sleepless bed ; Spurn'd from my kind, and with the mungrel fed O take me hence ! let me ascend to thee — Rid be the world of wretchedness and me ! Forgive my tears- — they soon will cease to flow- My soul sinks hourly 'neath increasing woe. Time saw my growing pride, and slowly sent His hoary heralds trembling to my tent. With grief I felt the ev'n of life draw nigh ; And met its gloom with many a broken sigh ; The patient foe each day new progress gain'd — Nought but the ruins of a man remain'd. Tell, ye who feel, how swell'd the soldier's heart, When he, from all the soldier priz'd, must part. Could he the sword without a pang resign. And tearless tremble by the shining line ! My Mary dead ! my sword torn from my thigh ! O ! on the field could but the vet*ran die ! Could his last breath mix with the cannon's blaze ; His mangl'd body help the mound to raise ! No — fast 1 fled the sacred field of fame ; And sought my cottage in a Blue-gown's name. But all was chang'd — no cot, no friend, had I ; Tear follow'd tear, and fill'd my hollow eye. 146 €5e :BIue*(?otott. The world before me ; but my limbs no more Could bear me bounding to a better shore. Down, down, proud heart ! thy bag of crumbs O — see ! Andjell the story of the world and thee. — No peace, no rest, can the poor Blue-gown have. Till rank the grass bends sighing o'er his grave. Heav'n be your meed — O let not age complain ! Let not th'e feeble bend his knee in vain ! Let your bless'd eye one glance of pity bring ; And bid my weary soul with gladness sing. KINMAMA. KINMAIRA. JL Hou dusky trav'ller of the weary night, Yon cumbrous cloud awaits thy fading light ; Thy joyless ray hangs trembhng o'er the main, And sickness presses on thy ling'ring train ; Fast thou descends in the dark gloomy west-— O silent sinks thou in thy place of rest ! Behind yon eastern hill, where twilight bends Doubtful and faint, the purpling dawn ascends ; 150 m{nrara. Stronger and stronger the soft streaks arue. And ruddy morning beams o'er all the skies. Slow from the lake, and up the waving trees Ascends the mist, and mingles with the breeze ; With weak'ning form it skirts the mountain-rise, And hangs its filmy fragments on the skies. 'Tis silence all — save where the bird of morn, Or on the heathy tuft, or spangled thorn. Shakes the dank dew-drop from his quiv'ring wing, And eager swells his little throat to sing ; And on a parent's pinion, high in air. Dissolves in song above his nursling care : — Save yon feint murmurs of the rippling flood, And softer miuTnurs of the rustling wood. JBlinrara. 151 And when yon cock, with shrill infrequent scream, Strikes on the mom, and breaks the sliepherd's dream. O solemn comes thou, renovating day ! AU sweetness marks thy mild, thy onward way ; Thy gradual steps with gradual splendour rise, And the deep night is lost in brilliant skies. But stronger still, far o'er yon mountain grey. Pours thou thy beam, O sun ! thy mighty day ; Thy piercing beam which rent the realm of night. And shades the awful blaze of life and light. Great in thy might, fast up the various skies, Solenm and still thy flaming glories rise ; While broad o'er earth thy bounteous hand is spread. And lifts in rapture wearied Nature's head j 162 li^tnrara* To thy full harp she wakes her dewy train, And robes tliem charming for the day again. Now o'er yon cottage, mantled I'ound with trees, Slow swells the smoke, and curls along the breeze ; From his heath couch the early shepherd springs, And, with his dog, along the hill he sings. The flocks spread bleating o'er the fragrant hill ; The herds low hungry by the grassy rill ; And soft and wild through all the forest long, The airy minstrels lift their morning song ; While, proudly rolling through the varying scene. Through rocks reluctant, and through glens so green, The Spey conjoins her deep, her growing voice, And men and angels on her banks rejoice. lUinrara* 153 To crown the scene, to crown the charms of day, Fair of Kinrara, on the sounding Spey ! Are thus thy steps so early on the dew, And swells he his wild voice, yon thrush, for you< Is't all for thee, the glen, the brook, so fair, The woods Arabian on the desert air. The hills, the rocks, beyond a painter's hand, A fairy pictiu-e in a fairy land ; A people living in an angel's eye. An host for friendship, or an host to die ; O 'tis for thee — all hail, a soul like thine, Which in the desert or the court can shine ; Which, strong in worth, will shape its steady way^ And stamp on crime-worn time primseval day ; VOL. II. I, 154 Itinrara. Elmora, hail ! be grateful all to thee ! As thou art bounteous to the world and me ! O seeks thou here, where witching nature sports. Far from the gazing world and pomp of courts, To nurse thy mind, within thy ivy'd bow'r. And give to reason, reason's pride and pow'r j To set wild fancy on a seraph's wing, And clothe the passions with the buds of spring ; To fix thy soul, long in a sick'ning world. Of follies varied, or by fashion whirl'd ; And with a lifted eye, and soul sincere, In purest rapture dart beyond the sphere. Here then, Elmora ! be thy blest abode, Wherebards have wak'd the song, where saints have trode, Emrara. 15i Here be thou hapyy — ^here thy angel shines, And all thy paths with flow'rs and foliage twines ; And down the bank, or by the shady tree. Each gentle genius graceful bends to thee. These are the halls where Ossian rais'd the song ; These are the hills where Fingal pour'd along, Great in the chace ; or with the flaming sword, Press'd to the ground proud Lochlin's bloody lord j And on yon cloud, perhaps Malvina lies, Thy kindred genius on the earth or skies. Here from his mist will Kaimes thy footsteps tend. Thy early favourite, thy unvarying friend j And Burns, lost Bums ! his tribute too will bring, No peacock's feather on a lav'rock's wing j 156 l&mrara* The cloud which wafts him from the highest skies, Will pour a thousand bards before thy eyes ; Their three blindchiefs will touch th' harmonious string'. And thee and thine th'enraptur'd host will sing. Haunts of their time, their long forgotten joys, Will hft to heav'n their dread aerial voice. Proud spirits hover round the fair ; and long May you and she hght up my duteous song. Long round Kinrara may her beauties shine. And every heart live in a wish hke mine ; And long and long our wilds so simple claiiri Her gentle virtues, and her august name ! Here antient times prevail o'er all the land ; Pure, as just smoothed by a patriarch's hand : Eitttatt* 157 Vice strides not here with fearless, frontless, face, Nor sits presumptuous in meek virtue's place : Guile lifts not up the smooth, the varnish'd head;, To cheat the living, and to bloat the dead : Here bhnks not round, the dark, th' insidious eye. Nor swells the dubious uninviting sigh ! Its ermine trims not pride, with palsy*d hand. Nor waves fell faction her devouring brand : Nor war, the scourge of God, the pride of kings. Comes here all bloody on a statesman's wings. No— all that's best awaits Elmora here, And joy shall lead thee through the circling year ; Health's downy finger ope thy morning eye, And calm content let dowQ thy evening sky ; l&S HHtntart. Suns after suns, thy happiness shall sec, And all the forest join in song with me. GEENFIBDICH. G-JLENFIBDICtt jr AR in the glen where winding Fiddich brings Her streams, mild rippling, from a thousand springs j Where taste and fancy by the mount or rill, Court nature smiling from the sunny hill ; Where from the world, in sweet retirement lost. The great and good, the glen and cottage boast, Matilda wander'd : O'er the mingled scene. In rapture giddy, or in joy serene. 16^ Ae tae o' sic could weel afford. For days and ouks. To keep you stent at bed and board, Far frae poor fouks. Your langest teeth there might ye lair, And eat as lang as ye could stare. Syne quaff tiil morning's yellow hair Hang o'er the lift. Wha wad na like but to be there At sic a tift ? 222 an awreiKiei « tbt 0tint, What sorrow then brought ye to me, Wi' gimin' mou' and glowrin' ee, Wise for yoursel, why did na ye Look by the hallan. And wi' your ain een, ruein', see A waesome callan ? Ye'd seen a niz cockt like your ain ; A warlock ee, haf hid the stane , A chin wi' huge expence o' bane ; A blinkin' leuk ; Like Colly's whan sair wet wi' rain, In the peat neuk. an atoBrwfS to t|ie (S'ottt* 223 Nine lyart hairs hing o'er my brow ; Four stragglin' tusks had out my mou' ; My carcase is some like a screw, Wed maun ye tent it j O let be sic a bonny dow ! Ye'll nae repent it. See ye my houghs, how hard, how bare, Some like my granny's elbow chair ; What ha'f-brunt die! wad steal the pair To limp frae hell ? Then what the mischief brings you there, Ye ken yoursel. 224 an aitirWK u ttt (^6Ut* See ye my feet, O like what else. They're fifty partons in themsells, The heel's right learnt, yet never tells, Whare tae should gang ; Will ye embroil, among sic spells, Your cursed fang ! Can ye amang a thousand fleas. Ten femyears cafF, and duddy claise, Can ye lie down, syne after raise, Wi* fen intent, Tlie niuckle did amang my taes. Me to torment. an; autJTWiS to tl&e (Sout* 226 Had ye, or ye cam o'er the dale, Spiert o' my cellars and my ale, I wyte ye'd heard a bonny tale O' brown and nappy ; It cam na frae Signora Thi-ale, To mak fouks happy. Had ance ye peept wi' haf an ee, In auld aik press, and there to see O' weel waxt corks but twa or three, Wad ye been glad ? Wad twa pints whisky you and mc Sing aft to bfd ? 226 an antirwist to tit (Sonu But pinch na yet just quite sae sair, Ye'll gar me rug and rive my hair, And thrash the bairnies in despair, O bide awee ! Bide till the flannens 1 prepare ; It's wark for thee. O had ye in the pantry peept, And seen the beef sae saut, just steept, And the poor tyke wha staw it whipt, Ye'd ne'er again, In o'er my thrashold, hirpUn', creept. Or I'm mista'en. an atarestiS to tie iScnU -227 O Colly, tyke ! had, had aback, Your slumber there ye maunna tak, Maun your poor kindness screw the raci;. Yon billy's makin' ; Soon soon, I fear, braid on my back, Ther*!! be less crackih*. Lend me your hand, gout 1 frae your crutch, I hope the trouble is na much. Syne dive it deep in my breek-pouch, And tell it a' ; I'll wad my railher's siller brotch Ye'll gang awa. 228 an auureieiiet to tjc (Sout» Na faith ye — ^that's a dev'Iish twitch ! Ha'e I nae tauld ye, I'm no rich ? Ye're roastin* at me hke a witch — O let me be ! O Lord confound the gruisome bitch j I'll surely die. O bide ye — na — I see your ee — It bodes mischief and a' to me ; For days and ouks ha'e I to drie, Nae glass, nae sang ; Syne rauckle devil gang wi' thee, Wha cares how lang I an auBrejUiiJ to tfie <3ouu 229 Now sair ye lie, says Maister Gout, But yet I winna stap your throat. But for sax ouks, I'll wad a groat. At Meldrum-ha', A bonny yokin' we'se hae o't, Atween us twa. Sac, while ye can, gar speed the chaise ; Ye need na heed about your claise ; A routh o' heat, I soon will raise, Wad scaud the moon ; Syne lie again o' banes and fleas, Whan we ha'e doonc. TO FAUJLO. FOOR FAUJLO. Laul*, caul' aneath the drappin' bus3, O Paulo ! still thou lies j Deep scrap't the bairns thy wee bit grave, An' wet it wi' their eyes. Wi' wond'rous pains, a grassy turf They frae the border rave, Their fingers trim't it roun' and roun', To deck their Paulo's grave. VOL. II. q^ 234 poor paulo» Wi' mornings dawn, an' e'ening's dew. Their little feet are there ; An' aften on the rustlin' buss. Descends the workin' tear. Lang look they to the wee bit sod. Their red red hands had tore j Lang list they for thy frolic growl. An' dream thy anticks o'er. They canna think that dead — O dead ! Thou'rt mingl't wi' the clod ; Mournfu' an' aft they ciy on thee, An' tent the rising sod. poor jpaulo. 235 Tain wad they lift the grassy turf, To see thy icy ee ; Pale horror chills their little hearts, An' fast an' far they flee. Mony's their questions o' thy death. An' sair, an' deep they mourn ; But ay they think it is na sae, An' greet for thy return. 1 too, wi' ha'f deceivin' foot, An' ha'f averted eye. Aft pass the httle whisp'rin' buss, Whare thy poor ruins ly. 236 Jpoor pauTff* Nae mair thou tents my momin* hour, An' Hcks my sleepy eyes ; Nae mair thou cheers my e'enin' walk. An' a' thy gambols tries. Whan auld an' young aroun' the boord, Wi' joy sat down to dine, Thy head lay restin' on my knee. Thy ee was fix't on mine. The chip sae sma', the dish right bare. The bane sair pykt an' wee, Though ilka han' aroun' provok't, Ware sweetest ay frae me. But ah ! disease met thy wee step j It never clamb the hill ; A dreadfu' death struck thy young life, An' low thou lies an' still. Weeks heard thee groan, and saw thee writhe, Wi' agonizin' pain ; An' pity shed her kindliest tears, An' try't her pow'rs in vain. Caul' hes thou, Paulo ! caul', O caul'. Is thy dark dreary bed ; And, nae mair anguish't, 'ncath the turf, O still and low's thv head. 238 jpoor lg)8uTo» Sure a' is good — that wee bit heart Sik tortures cou'd na drie, Was thy last broken breath the last, O' thy short life an' thee. Nae angry spirit guides the whole ; Heav*n spreads its wond'rous wing- The little whelp its waesome death, May burst its turf, and sing. ODES ANB SOMGS. ODE TO THE MORNING. j?^i.L hail, blest Morning ! on thy azure throne, Who, with thy rosy fingers, wet with dew, Gently withdraws night's studded, dusky, veil, Aad holding nature by her purple zone. Bids all her beauties burst upon the view ; HaiU Mighty Cherub, Hail! 242 SSmtn ant ^cn^. To me, to man, renewed life thou brings ; Creation dances in thy gladd'ning eye ; O could I, little lark ! ascend with thee ! Bear thou my incense on thy rusthng wings. And bid the beauteous Cherub of the sky, Her spirit shed on me ! EDWARD AND ANNIE. TUNE, BONNY DUNDEE. O DARK bursts the storm around my poor cottage. The ghosts of the night sing dreary and wae ; The scad o' the moon wanders wild thro' the tempest. The star shivers pale, and far, far's the day. Ye children of night ! deep and strong in my bosom Ye wake your full pow'rs ; O swimming's my ee ; The maid of my love — is she hov'ring among ye — Return, thou fair spirit, my Annie ! to me. 244 fl)tieie( anti Sottgi6» O open the latch, love ! O open my Edward ! My winding sheet's thin, and cauld,cauld's yon gravcj O yon scullonmy bosom — yonwormscrawlingo'erme — I winna gae back, thou thy Annie maun save. O open the latch, Edward, sair, sair I shiver, Will morning nad mair break on thee, love ! and me ; Ah, it breaks — O it's rosy — does the cauld grave forevei Dropthelatchet — no,no — 'tween thy Annie and thee O no — thou wast loosome — the sigh of the maiden ; Thy heart shed its dew o'er mis'ry and wae ; Thy heart, O my grave ! ev'n there my dreams sang the( O Edward, my Edward ! amang the cauld clay. And comes thou, my love ! then ; yon blue cloud is spreading ; We'll rise — O we'll rise — yon broad beam's for thee ; The grave yields its Annie — the sheeling its Edward — It's morning forever to thee, love i and me. We rise — O we rise — what's this in my bosom ! The dream o' the night never wander'd sae strong ; Yon star hides the earth ; the broad gates of heav'n Pour out all their glory, and welcoming song. O Edward ! nae mair shall the grave and the cottage, At gloming or cockcraw the grey spirit see ; And the care-worn threshold where aft, aft we linger'd, Shall never hear mair o* thy Annie and thee. The forsaken SHEPHERD. TUNE, THE YELLOW HAIR'd LADDIE. J_ HE sair-hearted Sandy aside the bare tree, Sat sighing and sabbing, and the tear in his ee ; And though chill blew the blast, and fast fell the snaw. He sang to the desart his lassie awa'. O why are ye good, and why are ye fair ? My red swoln ee will see you nae mair ; Ye ha'e left me to weep, and ye ha'e left me to die ; And the lads a' around join in sorrow wi' me. Nae mair on our hills will thy smiles chace awa' The deep groan of grief, and the tears as they fa* ; The pale furrow'd cheek in its want shall consume ; And the pipe shall be heard nae mair in the broom. The lasses may sing and dance trim on the green, When ye, O nae langer, amang them are seen : The best form o' beauty nae mair shall divide The bonny young lad and his bonny young bride. But a' things bring sorrow and sadness to me : My life drew its spark frae the beam o' thy ee j Now it fails hke the leaves strew'd alang the black bum^ Since my lassie \vi' summer nae mair wiU return. 248 Sfbtfi am &ons0t But ay be thou happy, and the best on the green May thy bonny laddie ilk morning be s^en ; Though I maun lament to the rain and the snaw, Thy charms and thy goodness forever awa'. FAREWELL TO THE HIGHLANDS. TUNE, CAPTAIN o'kAIN. JL E mountains sae grey, which hide the blue heavens; Ye hills gi-een wi' birk, and spangled wi' dew ; Ye rivers which mix your wild voice wi' the morning ; O must I, sweet Highlands ! must I bid you adieu 1 And thou, in thy forest's sae braid-mantling bosom. Sweet cottage, whare pleasure and happiness dwell ! Must I, wet wi' tears, tny bonny Kinrara ! O must 1 for ever— can I bid thee farewell ! VOL. It. R '250 Spitg anB eongi8» Farewell then, dear Highlands — O farewell, Kinrara; Ye sons of the hills, a long, long adieu ! How long your Maria O will ye remember, Far parted I'll sigh on Kinrara and you. Bleat on, then, ye lammies ; and proud in your forests Be thy steps, thou gay roe, and thine, bounding deer I Sweet Spey, on thy banks, and thy far-gathering Avaters, May happiness shine, and be mine the last tear. MY MARY. TUNE, THE SILKEN SN00j>. ^' ow o'er the hill, and on the lougli. The simmer shines sae gairy ; The hunter stens o'er burn and brae^ And I'll gae see my Mary. Ahint yon knowe I ken she sits ; Her ee peeps by the side o't ; I trow her heart is beating high— O weel kens mine the bide o't. 252 SDDeis mi ^msif^ O lassie ! are ye in my arms ! Is this thy cheek sae looesome 1 Is this thy lip ! I hear thy heart — ■ O tak me to thy bosom. Ye're a' my ain, my bonny dow— > I'll ay be thine my dearie — And ae fain heart atween us tvvaV Shall never never weary. O GENTLE ZEPHYR. TUNE, LUBIN, O GENTtE Zephyr, simmer's child. Thou wantons through the rustling wild ; My flushing cheek, my moist'ning ee, O cooling Zephyr, come and see ! Beat thou in peace, my throbbing heart ; Nor love nor time ha'e flung their dart ; My bosom rises a' for thee, O cooling Zephyr, come and see ! 254 S/itH itia SongjEU I'm weary, weary, — ^here could I Sit by the stream saft murm'ring by, Till ev'ning dew fell dank on me ; O cooling Zephyr, come and see ! Dead swims my eye — my heart — O dear ! What trouble's this — what's a' this steer ? O cooling Zephyr, come and see j But bring yon bonny lad wi' thee. KINRARA. TUNE, MIEL GOW. J[^ ED gleams the sun on yon hill tap. The dew sits on the gowan j Deep murmurs through her glens the Spey Around Kinrara rowan. Whare art thou, fairest, kindest lass ! Alas wert thou but near me Thy gentle soul, thy melting heart, Wad ever ever cheer me ! 256 Zflitg ttio e>ottfflie«i an» eong«f» Whan gloamln' comes, an* I am weary Frae the toilsome bloody hill, Aneath the birk my lass, nae eirie. Charms the wild sae calm an' still. She sings — she looes — sae kind, sae cheery. She's a' affection o'er and o'er ; Blest be the birk, and blest my dearie, My sweet lass o' Garvamore. O'er soonj sweet Night ! thy ending glory Purples o'er the eastlin sky ; O'er soon, strong Sun ! thy beam afore yc Settles on my lassy's eye. QXitg ana Songs!* 26" An* maun we part, thou sweetest woman ! Hear ye yon hounds — the dawin's o'er — Ae kiss — ae sang — we'll meet at gloamin. Bonny Lass o' Gar\'amore. THE EWE-BUGHTS MARION. O mind ye the ewe-bughts, my Marion, It was there 1 forgather'd wi' thee ; The sun srail'd sweet oure the mountain, And saft sough'd the leaf on the tree. Thou wast fair, thou wast bonny, my Marion> And looesome thy rising breast-bane ; The dew sat in gems oure thy ringlets By the thorn when we were alarie. 270 flJSeief anU @ongi8» There we lov'd — there thou promis'd, my Marion, Thy 80ul — a' thy beauties were mine : Crouse we skipt to tlie ha' i' the gloamin' But few were my slumbers and thine. Fell war tore me lang frae thee, Marion, Lang wat'ry and red was my ec ; The pride of the field but inflam'd me, To return mair worthy of thee. O ay art thou lovely, my Marion, Thy heart bounds in kindness to me j And here, O here is my Dosom, That languish'd, my Marion, for thee. GJLOSSAMY. GJLOSSAMY. A', .// Aback aivay Abee, not to do a thing, let abee, let alone. Aboon, above, up. Ac, one, Aefauld, tincere, -witbout guile. Aff, off. Afore, before. Aft, oft. Afto;, often. Afterhind, afterwards. Ahint, behind. Ain, oiun. Airt, quarter of the sly. Aith, ojth. Aits, oats. Aizle, a hot (inder or emBer. Alake, alas. Alane, alone. Amaist, almost. Amang, among. Amry, a cupboard. Ance, or aiiis, once. Anc, one. Anew or aneugh, enovu or e- nough. Anither, another, Ase, ashes. Astecr, abroad, stirring. Atry, gloomy, a cankered sore. Aught, eight, possession. 274 Auld, old. Ava, at all. Aver or aiver, a poor old horse, Awa, aivay. Awn, the beard of the barley. Awsome, frightful, terrible. Awee, a little. Ayont, beyond. B Ba', ball. Backet, a thing to carry out ashes in. Badrans, a cat. Bade, did bide, Bagrie, trash. Baid, staid, endured. Bain, or bane, bone. Bairn, a child. Ban, curse. Bang, a sudden effort to strike a severe blorv. Bangster, a blusterer. Bannock, a -very thick round oat cake, formerly baken before the fre, and leaning to a stone ; hence Bannock-stane. Baps, oat or barley bread raised \uUh yeast. Barefit, or barfit, barefooted, Barleyhood, a drunken angi passion. Barm, yeast. Bauk, a beam, an unplough, stripe of land betiveen ti ridges, Bauch, indifferent in manner. Bauld, bold. Bawbee, a halfpenny. Bawsant, a horse ivitb a zubi face. Bawty, a dog''s name, or rath, a general one for dogs. Be, to let be, to give over. Bee, a -whim. Beizy, dizzy -with drink. Bedeen, immediately, in hattt Beit, to add fuel to the fire, Befa', to b.fall. Begaick, to beguile. Begoud, began. Behint, behind, Beik or byke to bask, Beild, a place of abode, a war sheltered place. Bein, icealthy, comfortable, Beit, stir, to help, to repair. (tUOfietf, 275 Bck, a curi'sey. Beld, hold. Beltan, Rood'day. Beiyve, by and by. Ben, the inner room. Bend, draught, to drink. Bennison, blessing. Bensal, storm. Bent, feld, strong coarse grass, Beuk, a book, bated. Bicker, a ivoodcn dish, a fight among boys, to run. Bigg, barley soaked in ivaier, and the busks beat off in a mor- tar, called the bigg-stane — in use before milled barley — to build. Biggings, buildings, Biggonet, a linen cap, a coif. Billie, a brother, a familiar ad- dress of a friend. Binge, to do obeisance, to faivn. Birk, the birch tree. Birl, to join in the payment of drink. Birng, burnt beatb, burdens. Birr, force, fiying iviiL a ivLir- ring noise. Birse, bruise. Bit, a small thing, nick of time Blae, pale-blue. Blastie, a term of contempt. Blastet, iviibered, also in (up- tempt. Blate, bashful. Blatter, a rattling noise. Blaud, a large fiat piece of cn^ thing, Blaw, to bloiu. Bledoch, buttermilk. Bleer, -watery-eyed, lueeping^ 4K- sease of the eyes. Bleeze, blaze. Blinking, smirking, uncertaik light, like "will 0' ivlsp. Blither, to talk foolishly. Blink, a little ivhile, a kind looi^ milk or beer a little souredf {la ng light. Blinn, blind, to cease. Blirt, to loeep. Blucgown, one of these beggars, ivIjo have been soldiers, ard ivho get annually on the king's birth day, a blue cloak orl. Cadger, a lo-w kind of carrier. Caff, chaff. Caird, a tinker, a term of re- proach. Cairn, a loose heap of stones. Callan, a boy ; in Galloivay, a little girl. Caller, fresh, sound, cool. Cam, did come. Camseach, ugly, crocked and ill natured. 278 (SioiSear^. Camsteary, eress tempered. Can, ingenuity. Can, a vesiil to hold ivater or the lihe. Canna, cannot. Cannie, ingenious, milJ. Cannilie, o/" cannie. Cantrips, spells, incantations, charms. Canty, cheerful, merry. Capernoitcd, tuhimsical, ill na- tured, capricious. Capestane, copstene, a conclusion . Car, a draught machine, gene- rally ivithout "wheels, Carcna, care not. Carle, a respectable designation of an old man. Carline, applied to a ivoman, but ivith less respect. Cast, contrivance, knack. Cast up, to upbraid, Cauld, cold. Castocks, the stalks of cabbages, Cauldrife, spiritless, Cauller, see caller. Caup or cap, a tmall drinking •svoodea dish. Caiik, clmlk. Chafts, the chaps, the jarvs. Chanter, a part of the bag-pipt Chap, a felloiv, rather a con temptuous appellation, to strik gently. Chappin, a chopin, a measure o^ drink, striking. Cheep, to chirp. Chill, or tzill, child, Chiel, a term like fellow, some times respectfully andsometime contemptiiousl'^l used. Chimla, sometimes used for th grate, and sometimes for th chimney or lum. Chirm, to talk pitifully, to cbirj and sing plaintively as a bira Chitter, to shiver till the jaw tremble. Chow, to chetu. Chucky, a hen, a familiar epi thet to a female acquaintance, ChufF, a sulky fellow. Clachan, a village near a church a hamlet. Claise or claes, clothes, Claith, cloth. (BtoiBijetarj. 279 Claithing, clothing. Clan, a tribe. Clatter, to tell idle irifing stories. Claw, to scratch. Clashes, lies, idle stories. Claut, a tool to gather ashes to- gether, or to clean a byre or the Hie, to scrape. Claught, took quietly held of. Cleading or deeding, clothing. Clead, or deed, to clothe. Cleck, to hatch. Cleek, to catch as ivith a hooi, to take by the arm. Cleuks, the cLizus of a cat. C'leuk, to catch bristly, Cleugh, a cliff, a holloiv b^'tiueen iivo rods. Clinty, hard, pointed. Clock, a beetle. Clocking, hatching. Cloit, to fall softly or carelessly, Cloot or cluit, the hoof of a coiu, sheep, \^c. Clootie, an old cant luord for the devil. Closs, a small lane. Clout, to patch. Clour, a lump after a bloiu, al" so a holloiv in a pcin, or the like after a fall or stroke. Coble, a fishing boat. Cockernony, a yotmg ivomans hair gathered, and particularly fastened ivitb a snood or fillet. Cod, a pillow. Coft, bought. Cog, a tvooden dish. Cogie, a small tvooden dish. Coggle, to move backtvards and forivards, like to fall. Colly, a general name (sometimes p irticuldr) for curs. Cood or cude, the cud. Coodie, a small ivooden vessel. Coof or C\xii,asil!y stupid felloiu. Coor or cuir, to cover. Coor or cour, stooping to conceal one^s self, to creep along. Cooket, appeared and disap- peared by starts. Coost or cuist, did cast. Cooser or cuiser, a stallion. Cootie, a -wooden dish, foivli luhose legs are feathered. Corby, 'a raven. 280 (E^Iojfgar^, Cosh, ■very intimate. Cosie, ivarnty comfortable, shcl- teredy snug. Cotter, a servant, but txibo has bis oiun Louse and family, Couthy, kind, loving, snug, Couter, the coulter of a plough. Cow't, cut short, cattle -without horns. Cowe, to terrify, to keep under, to lop or cut, a branch of Ivithered heath, broom, Is'c, an imaginary thing to frighten children, or people timid by night. Cowp, to tumble, to barter, a gang or riotous company, a favour or favourable bargain. Cowr, see coor or cour. Cowt, a colt. Crack, chat, conversation, boast, Craig, a rock, the neck. Craft, croft. Crap, the gizzard, •what is thro-wn up by boiling "whey, a top, a crop, did creep. Crankous, fretful, captious. Cranreuch, hour-frost. Craw, a crotv, to crozv. Creel, a basket tuithout a handl Crcesh, grease. Croil, a crooked divarf, Crood, to coo as a dove. Crook, a strong iron chain I nvhich the pot is supported i bove the kitchen f re. Cronie, a favourite acquaintanc a kind of potatoe. Croon, a loiv hollozv sound, hum a tune, the loiv sound bull makes. Crouckie, a hump back. Crouse, cheerful, courageous, Crove, a cottage. Crowdie, a kind of pottage. Crowlin, craivling. Crummy, a co-w ivith sho\ crooked horns, a coiv s name. Crump, to chew hard things no. sily, crimp, hard. Cryn, to shrink. Cudeigh, a bribe, a present. Culzie, to entice, to fatter. Cummer, to encumber, a gossip a midzvife. Cunzie, coin, money. (3logeavt. ^l Cummock, a tbort staff ivitL a eroded head Cun, to taste, to learn, to kiioiv, to , a small quantity, Staumrei, cue half-ivittcd. Staw, did steal. Stay or stnie, steep. Steck, steik or stike, to shut close, a stitch. Steir or steer, to molest, to stir, an ox. Stigh or Stech, to cram. Steive, strong, frm, compacted. Stell, a still. Sten 01 stend, to move -with a quick long pace, to leap like a flea. Stent, to stretch, to tax, to re- quire so much ivork in a given time, as in spinning ; tight. Stint to confine, to limit. Stirk, black cattle of a year old. Stock, a plant of cabbage or the like. StOlt, to ivalk carcLssh: or stag- gering Sroon, a particular kind of pain. Stoor or sture, coarse, austere, harsh, strong. Stot, to rebound, an ox. Stou, to cut or crop, a large piece, Stoun or stound, see stoon. Stoiip, a timher dish, a handle. Stour, dust in motion, to do any thing briskly. Stown, stolen. Stowth, stealth. Strack, struck. 3tr<\e, straiv, Stmik, to stroke. Strappin, tall, handfome, Straught, Jlraight. Strath, a large plain along it river. Streak, struk or streck, to stretch. Strinkle, to sprinkle, to streiv, Studdy or stithy, an anvil. ^Ogfifltt* 305 Stroot or Strute, stuffed, cram- med., full' Strunt, a /"f/, a fit of ill nature, small beer. Sture, see stoor. Sturt, to take offence, trouble, molest. Stym, seeing a thing ivith diff- culty, if at all. Sugh, see sough. Suddlc, to dirty. Sump, a sudden bea-vy shower. Sumph, a cross blockhead SunkatS, something. Swaird, the surface of the grass, the breadth one takes before them ivhen cutting ivith a scythe. Swack, to throiu -with force, tight, active. Swap, to exchange. Swank, stately, jolly, Swalikie, a clever young fel- loiu. Swarf, to sivoon. Swat, did siueat. Swatch, a sample. Swats, small beer. Sweer, lazy, averse. Sweeties, confeiVtons. Swinge, to beat, to strike. Swingean, very large. Swirl, an eddying blast or pool a knot in ivood. Swirly, blustering 'weather, full of knots. Swith, quickly. Swither, ta hesitate. Syne, ofterivards, then, since. Syte or site, anxious, care, sor- row. T Tae, toe, the one. TaJd, a toad, a term of contempt — nasty taid. Tak, to take. Tane, the one taken. Taiken, token, risk or hazard. Tap, the top, the head, fax put upon the distaff or rock, any thing excellent. Tappit hen, a hen with a tuft of feathers on her head, the Scots quart measure, Tappitless, headless, thoughtless , foolish. VOL. 11. 306 (Moisjsart'. Tangs, the tongs. Tarrow, to murmur at, to yc- fiise from peevishness ivhat ive ivDuld ivisb to have, es- pecially applied to ehildren and their viBuals. Tass, tassy, a little dram cup. Tartan, cross striped cloth of various colours, Tate, a small guastity of tvool, hair, or the like. Tailld, told. Taupie, a thoughtless \ouiig per- son. Tauted, tautie, matted together as hair -wool. Taw, the slender roots attached to the potatoe, a game among children. Ted, to spread, to scatter about. Teem, toom, empty. Tent, heed, attention. Tentie, carefully cautious, Tentless, heedless. Teugh, tough. Thack, thatch. Therms, the small guts, fiddle strings* Thae, those. Thawlcss, see thowlesii., Thike, to thatch. Thick, intimate. Thir, these. Thirl, to thrill, Thole, to endure. Thow, a thaiv, to thaiv. Thowless, sLck lazy, indiffct- c:it, the same tvith thaivless , rather Thevvless, from. Thews, manners, qualities, dis- positions. Thrawart, frotvard, cross. Thraw, to tivist, to sprain, to contradict. Thrawn, tiuisted, habitually ill- natured, Threep or threap, to maintain an opinion merely by obstinate assertion, Throosh, did thresh. Thud, a sudden blast or bloiv, or the sound of these, Tid, an affront. Tift, good order, health, « draught of any thing. Tike or tyke, a dog. (Biofisiavgt. 307 Tine, to looscy the tooth of a Tout or toot, to sound a born, barroiv. a full draught of any thing. Tinkler, a tinier, familiarly a ill-humour or pet. frolicksome free young person. Touts, sudden ill-humour, pet. Tint, lost. Tow, a rope. Tirl, to make a slight noise at a Touzie, rough, shaggy, door, or tvindoiu, sometimes Toy, the linen bead dress of an as has been preconcerted, to old ivcman. rap at the door. Toyte, toit or tOUt, a sudden ft Tither, the other. of ill-humour. Tirl or tirr, to uncover hastily Trewes, the breeches and stocl- or I'iolently. ings in one. Tittle, to vibisper, to carry idle Trig, spruce, neat, handsome, stories. Troke, barter, T'\t\\c'!\,a small bird -wbich is said True, to mislead. tofolloiv the cuckoo — carrying Truncher or trencher, a ixiooden idle neivs and itories. plate. Tetty, a sister. Tryst, appointment. Tocher, a marriage portion, Tsill, a child. Tod, a fox. Tug, a raiv undressed skin, to Todle, to run or luali, tottering pull byjirks. Hie a child. Turn, a speedy job. 'i'ooly nr toulzic, a quarrel or Turse, a large bundle, an un- fght. "wieldly person. Toom, empty — see teem. Twa, tiuo — twa-three, afeiu. Tosh, tight, neat and clean. Twin, to part ivith, to be at- 'i'ouicort0\i2\t,iorumpletoteaze. prived of. Toun, a farm bouse, a humUt. Twecch, to tiucb. 308 <&Toiffs!ari>; Tydie, neat, plump, lucky, a C01V "ivith young. Tyke, a dog, a cur. Tyst, to entice, to allure, stir up, U Ugg, to loath, nauseate, detest, Ugsome, hateful, nauseous, hor- rible. Umwhile, the late. Unco, strange, -oery, very great, prodigious, Uncoes, nezus, Undocht or wandocht, a silly •weak person, Ungeard, not clad, not harnessed, ITneith, uneasy. Unlooesome, not lovely. Unken'd, untnoivn, Upwith, an ascent, issue, V Viiig or veaug, a ■vile, idle, dis' orderly person, Vaunty, boasting, iiain, Veem, a close heat in a cahn e- vening, great over the body, ivith redness in the face and some perspiration, Vincush, to vanijiaish. Voggy, voky or veouky, happy, elevated beyond the ordinary bounds of discretion, Voust, brag, boast unnecessarily, W Wa', ivall, Wabstcr, a iveaver. Wad, "would, a bet, a plcdre, Wadna, -would not, Waefu', ivoeful, pitiful, Waesucks, the same as alas, ivoes me, Waifu, waisome, •wailing, -wo- ful. Wail or wale, to choose, to pick, choice. Waft, the zvoof. Wair or ware, to expend, to lay out, to bestoiv. Waff, •wandering, unnoticed, not respeSled, Wak, •wet, moist, Wdkrie or, wakerife, •wakeful, restless, Walie, ample, large, jolly — an interjection, Walladay, an inter jedlion, alas-! Wallidrag, a dirty outcast. (BTojeiiEiarg. 309 Wame, the telly. Wamefu', a bellyful. Wamle, to have ticlness irrtbe stomach and noisy motion in the boivels. Wan, preceding and joined to ivords, the same as un or ■without, as wan-grace, wan- case, Wan, a pale sickly look, a small s-wifch. Wap, a sudden jiri or motion, a stroke. War, i/je spring, worse. Warkloom, a tool. Warl, ivorld. Warlock, a tvizzard. Wastr)', prodigality. Wat, or wit, or wlte, or wist, to kiioiv. Wauble, to give ivay easily, leaning this and that -way. Wauk, to thicken cloth, to -walk, to be aivale. Wauglit, a large draught. Waurt, "worsted. Wee, little. \Vcird, destiny. Wean or weanie, a child, « wee ane. Ween, i,nagined. Weer, to drive beasts -without appearing to do so. Weir, -war, a place to catch Jisb, Weit or weet, rain, ivetness. We'se, -we iball. Wersh, insipid, -without salt. Westlin, ■western. Wha, ivha — whase, luhose — whare, -where. Whang, a thong, a large piece of any thing. Whauk, to ivhip, to fog. Whid, to fly, or run abruptly, a trifling lie. Whilk, -ivLicb. Wheely, to nvheedlc, to cheat. Whingeing, -whining. Whins, furze. Whisht, hush. Whisk, to pull out hastily, tt siveep, to Ijsh. Whitter, to run nimbly, a smal quantity. Whomilt, or whamelt, a din turned upside down. 310.