% 1 V OU » wv* ,\\tf:M TDCv \r /\U TUUII J * r AU » v &o 1 c* ■■■• \ * i » ft /*"*W A e n\\ a* o £ ^"N. ^lOSANC IMMII-lttS- / THE DREAM ,., THE WESTERN SHEPHERD. BY MRS LECK1E, Authoress of " The Village School," "The Hebrew Boy," 4 c. Whilst I was thus musing, I cast my eyes towards the summit of a rock that wa? not far from me, where I discovered one in the habit of a Shepherd, with a little musical instrument in his hand. As I looked upon him. he applied it to his lips, and began to play upon it." — Vision of Mwtah. k3.f7 An TO MISS JOHNSON THIS VOLUME i- INSCRIBED, WITH MOST AFFECTIONATE FRIENDSHIP, BY THE AUTHOR. 4, Stafford Stklet, Edinburgh. 917996 A superstitions belief i" fairies and witchcraft still lurks in the Western Highlands of Scotland, the result of ignorance, and want of education. The following Poem was written in consequence of bearing that a countryman of those parts, baying been at a christen- ing at his chieftain's house, did not return to bis borne. Bis friends sought him with lighted sticks during the night. They found him next morning wandering; when he told them "the fairies had carried him into the sea." He was not well for some time ; bul be was a person of sober habits. THE DREAM 01 THE WESTERN SHEPHERD. &anto drtvst. The gale was hushed : the sea was smooth, The moonbeam slept on the wavi-less tide ; The Shepherd sought the lonely shore, When wandering from the mountain side. He lingered not in the shadowy vale, He shunned the haunted cavern's gloom ; Nor paused to scan yon ruined fane, Where glide the spectres of the tomb. The shell and pebble glittering shone In mirror depths of lovely blue ; So soft the rippling water flowed, Like life's young spring-tide, — oft untrue !- 8 THE DREAM OF From the calm, azure sea, and near, So sweetly rose a heavenly strain, The tone seraphic charmed the ear, As if all Eden lived again. A pearly car rose from the deep, On radiant dolphins lightly borne ; Their scales of crimson and of gold Like gorgeous summer eve, or morn. A perfume, as from Hyacinth bell, Breathed sweeter far than Arab wind ; And nestled in the beauteous shell A tender fairy form reclined. Her snowy arms embraced a lyre, Her golden locks hung o'er the strings ; And while the trembling chords respire, In melody's soft note, she sings, — " Come o'er the silver wave, Child of the mountain ! Come, view the fairy's cave, Far 'neath the fountain ! " The sea-star shall point thy way, Bird of the mountain ! Bright gleams fair Cynthia's ray, Far "neath the fountain ! HIE AVESTERN SHEPHERD " Halcyone hovers there, Son of the mountain ! Unfading the rainbow there, Far 'neath the fountain ! " Brightest gems sparkle there, Child of the mountain ! Coral trees blushing fair, Far 'neath the fountain ! " Come o'er the azure \\ a\ i . Bird of the mountain ! Come, see our beauteous cave, Far 'neath the fountain ! " Entranced, the listening Shepherd gazed. Spellbound, he reached the glittering car, While gently soft the zephyrs sighed, And waft him from his fields afar. They passed Iona's sacred isle, They float near StafFa's wondrous cave ; Where frown the mountains of Argyle, They slowly sunk beneath the wave. A lofty hall received them. High o'er arched With coral and with stalactite enriched, Interminable vistas far were seen In gay perspective. Marble fountains play '* f > 10 THE DREAM OF And gardens, too, were there of solemn shade, Sweet jasmin wreaths hung clustering to the wall, And hid the garish light which might obtrusive fall. But no descriptive pen, or pencil true, Could paint the splendour of their tropic skies. Nor would the brightest Greek or Roman fane Rival this ocean temple. Dazzling gems, And frostwork here combined its diamond sprays. The massive pillars rising to the roof, High in gigantic, Theban grandeur sprung ; Their prism points reflecting every light Of rainbow hue. Nor had the hand of Time Defaced their polished wreaths, or dimmed their matchless shine. The extensive gardens bloomed on every side, Where Nature reigned uncurbed, luxuriant, wild ; Each fragrant shrub was there of Indian soil, With those that breathe their sweets on Afric's shore ; While flowers of every clime, and every hue, Courted the gathering hand, and still renewing grew. Each bird was there whose note delights the ear, Warbling in Scotia's loved, romantic vales ; The nightingale's soft lay of love they hear, First songster of fair England's loveliest dales, And oft the mermaid's dulcet, mournful song TITE WESTERN SHEPHERD II The wondering fairy's soul entranced, beguiled; While tears offender rapture gently How, To list those notes so sad, so sweetly, strangely wild ! " Weep for Iona's loveliest child ! Weep for Iona"s childless sire I " Thus blended sweet the mermaid's lay, In mingled tunes of song and lyre. " Weep for Iona's beauteous maid ! Weep for Iona's fairest daughter ! — Our rainbow dove of peace and joy, Who died beneath yon stormy water ' Iona's chieftain reared the maid, Her playful childhood blest his arms ; And rising beauty's tints displayed The dawn of bright, meridian charms. The brave young Ronald's love had sought And Avon this fair, this tender flower. Paternal promise soon was gained To give her hand in Hymen's hour. Fierce Malcolm ruled a neighbouring isle, A robber in a pirate's tower, The dread, the scourge of peaceful vale, Of quiet home, and lordly bower. 12 THE DREAM OF He wished to wed Iona's child ; His suit refused, — his gloomy pride Determined, with revengeful ire, To blast those hopes, to him denied. His frequent havoc roused at length A wish to burn this scorpion's nest. Iona's chief, and Ronald brave, Tamed and subdued his haughty crest. A friendly isle received the maid Till past the fear of Malcolm's power. When checked, destroyed, his cruel raid, She sought again her native tower. The lover came with chosen band To guard from harm his gentle bride. The slender bark, with silvery sail, Skims with light course the sparkling tide. A skiff concealed by lofty cave, Darts with a tiger's dreadful aim ! O'erwhelming force compelled the brave To feel resistance was in vain ! He fell ! — The maid in wild despair, In terror of the savage crew, Deep in the sheltering watery grave, With rapid plunge, herself she threw !- THE WESTERN SHEPHERD, 13 Her father watched upon the shore To hail his much loved child's return. Ber bier, a rolling wave soon bore Close to his feet, her mangled form ! Weep ! sad Iona's plaintive lyre ! Weep thine Iona's peerless daughter ! Weep for the childless, aged sire, Whose grave looks o'er yon stormy water! 14 THE DREAM OF CTaMo &econ&. Within those Alabaster halls and bowers Such Ariels move, in forms of heaven portrayed, As mock the painter or the sculptor's powers To catch one line their Psychean charms displayed, While airy Sprites and Peris like wreathed flowers Sported in childhood's dawn. Their rosy wings Or plumes cerulean, fanned the ambient air, And beauty of all shades, the fair, the brown, Graced those enchanting courts with magic all their own. When calm, serene, the cloudless eve appeared, And the smooth turf in silvery moonlight shone, Those fairy bands in mazy, circling dance, Their sylph-like forms in dazzling chains entwined. Then all the power, the grace, the charm of motion, In living beauty reigned. — Their noiseless steps light as new falling snow, And soft as echo to the softest music, Glide o'er the lawn in solemn heathen measure, Or gay as Dian's nymphs on Grecian plain. THE WESTERN SHEPHERD. 15 While harps unseen were heard, whose tender tones Float on the summer breath like airs from heaven. — The night-flowers gave their perfume. Brilliant shone The radiant, sparkling grove, with fire illumined wings. How pure, how sweet, the blush of early morn, In those blest fairy realms of tropic clime ! Those bowers, those meads of roses, where the sense Revels in fragrant beauty. Then to watch The bird, the insect's tender, lovely form, Their wings of downy crimson, gold or sapphiri And see them sip the nectar from the flowers. — A sable race was happy, wandering there. — Magnificent as deepest, darkest night ; Rich in expression's high and varied tone ; In Grecian features faultless outline bright, Like black and sculptured marble statues, shone. Sometimes they sauntered, thoughtful, musing, lone, Amidst high terraces of lofty palms, Whose straight and slender stems, like minster aisles O'ershadow with their broad enwoven heads The vistas seen beneath. A placid lake Reflected deep their forms. Its gentle breast Sheltered the azure and the snowy lotus. — 1 6 THE DREAM OF In scenes like these, which pictured Niger's shore, This Ethiop race delighted to recline.— Oft in the solemn eve, from the deep woods, Their clashing cymbals brave, inspiring note, Awoke the slumbering echo. — And the lone pathos of the muffled drum, The last sad honour o'er the soldier's grave, Eolled on the breeze like distant muttering thunder. The trembling flutes, with sweet melodious lay, Breathed a soft requiem ; such as in fancy's ear Sighed o'er the tomb of Israel's haughty chief; — Th' undaunted hero : — he who nobly scorned To live one hour beyond his vanquished bands ; Or see his slaughtered children fall around him On Gilboa's blood-stained hill.— — In vain the promised aid of Pythic art ; In vain the threatening of the shrouded Shade ; And last, not least, the agonizing pang, The gloom of frenzy's dark appalling hour, To warn him from the battle ! A change of measure now the listener caught, A low recitative, with simple viol. Such as in Bagdad's courts, or Cairo's halls, Relieved the toil, refreshed the wearied powers Of Haroun's active mind. Th' amusing tales Which charmed his ear, and still delight our own, Arrest those groups. 1 UK WESTERN SHEPHERD. 17 Untired they hear. Un tired the poet sings. While in true Eastern, allegoric numbers, He paints, as to their eyes, each deed, each form ; Commanding, as he lists, the souls of all around. — He spoke in language graphic, energetic ; Well suited to the land his verse portrayed. That land whose mighty fanes, gigantic hall-. Though now in crumbling ruin lowly laid ; inose matchless sculptured temples once enshrined All that succeeding time can ever claim Of learning or of art, far boasted o'er the main. Their creed symbolic, palpable to sight, Embodied Nature's ever varying form ; — But th' enlightened mind could clearly trace One First Great Cause, in all their sages taught. Though veiled in mystic terms, and darkly hid. — His attributes, His power, personified in all. — And now the poet wakes the Theban harp. — " The golden, cloudless, ray of heaven, Illumes the sad, the mighty tomb. The Titan shrine, in ruin riven, No worship claims from Egypt's son. Where once the guardian Sphinx reposed, In calm, expressive, silent power, 18 THE DREAM OF And where, if grandeur, strength, or fame, Might hope to reach time's latest hour ; There, clay-built hovels stain, deface, On Luxor's soil, the sacred shore ; There, amidst Karnac's squalid race, Instruction, science, reign no more. Now the fell despot's savage will, Aids the dark whirlwind's wasting sway. In granite halls, where Wisdom ruled, The fierce hysena shuns the day. — While lingering 'midst those broken walls, Those sad remains of art declined, A band of fettered slaves recalls To deeper pain the wandering mind. One pair I marked of nobler mien, Of feature high, above the rest ; Their greater anguish seemed to claim A heartfelt interest, unexpressed. In Arab tents their youth was reared ; Secure they roamed at freedom's will ; Where burning suns the passions wake To marked extremes of good or ill. — 1111. W I.MhKN BHEPHEBD. 1 '.l Her hands were crossed upon thai breast, A snowy tunic's folds adorn ; The ringlets parted on her brow, Waved round her dark, her graceful form. The youth who near beside her stood, In Moslem calm suppressed all pain. Till trembling now for her, he knell To him whose fiat fixed their chain " 1 know 'tis vain to sue, to kneel For freedom from thy Btern decn I only ask to share with her The fate thy will may do. .m to me. If blest with her, I'll bear through life Whate'er the worst your Blares may call ; Let me but guard my own, my wife. Oppression'^ chain will slightlv gall, Who humbly bows at Mecca's shrine, Thy law eominands thee to revere. Thy savage hordes, inured to crime. By force and fraud have dragged me here."- "No! thou to Stamboul's mart shall haste. In Cairo's halls she shall abide. That life my will can give or take, Will soon subdue thy sullen pride." 20 THE DREAM OF The youth arose. — He murmured low ; His accents scarce a whisper seemed ; " Great Allah, judge this deed !"— he prayed, Then quick as light his dagger gleamed !— With rapid force, unerring speed, While mute despair his brow confessed, His desperate hand the poniard plunged Deep in his Zamba's tender breast ! — She sunk, she died within his arms. He looked in triumph at his foe ; " Your chains, your whips, your pangs I scorn, My soul is steel'd 'gainst weal or woe !— " Give slavery, death with crudest art ; This fettered hand hath set her free ! No more thy tortures wring that heart, That heart which lived for love and me !"— I BE WESTERN -III PHEBD. 21 Qtanto CJnrfc. But though Ideal Beauty's magic power Invests those Eden shades with hues of Heaven . Though every charm the senses could inhale, Disposed to peace, and rest, and purest jov ; Yet nought of listless languor there was seen. Or vacant ease to sap the strength of mind ; No lazy, idle wight was there, I ween, To poison useful aim with deadening snare ; Idlcss ! the moral death of all that's good and fair ! — o v Some love to search great Nature's countless store In field or mountain. Others watch the heaven-. The planetary glories of the sphere Some dive beneath the ocean. Others choose To search the riches of the deepest mine. Whate'er refines, exalts, or interest wakes In man's improving nature, there was sought, And blest those sons and daughters, void of care. — O'er active, healthful minds no evil lours. How oft is misery caused by idle, wasted hours ! 22 THE DREAM OF And sometimes o'er this fair and gorgeous scene, Darkness sublime her mantle's shade has thrown ; When Cynthia's lamp withdrawn, the stars alone, Or Borealis bright supplied her beam. Then those light fairy forms transparent gleam, Like spectre shades 'midst lone cathedral walls ; And the forked lightning's grand, but death-arm' d glare, Illumed the brilliant, dazzling silvery halls ; While tenfold gloom's alternate contrast gave A dreadful beauty to its serpent dart. Then swelled the organ-peal, the surges roar, Like storm of wintry night on wide Atlantic shore. — Oft a harmonious band was heard, Like inspirations highest strain ; Such music breathed, — th' Olympic bard Would deem his spirit lived again ! In converse, song, or lyre's wild dream, Oft passed the pure, the placid hour ; Or contemplation's sacred theme Awoke their being's loftiest power. A higher boon to some was given, The happiest gift to them assigned, Creative fancy's power, to charm With magic skill th' admiring mind ! A Lethean calm, with gentle wand, To mortal sorrow they impart ; I UK WESTERN SIIEPIIEKI >. 23 With visions bright, etherial, bland, They soothe the Buffering, bleeding heart. Now glorious beams of rising day, Crested with fire the hills of Arran, When sunk in sleep a shepherd lay Reclined beside an aged cairn. ~tv He woke ! he gazed upon the sea ! He sighed to think such dream was gone !- His step retraced the dewy lea, And sought his lowly cottage home. A SELECTION (IF VERSES FOR MUSIC. BY MRS LECKIE. 1<> LORD COCKBURJN '"is VOLUME is INSCRIBED, WITH KESPECT, BY THE AUTHOR. A SELECTION OF VERSES FOK MUSIC. T<> the Tune of — "The Last Tim i. I i lme o'er iiii Mrii:." [From "The Power of Conscience."] High on the stormy cliff sublin The Bard will watch the tempest nigh, And gazing view the rasing main With sadly mild, and mournful eye ; — So, undismayed by Fortune's scorn The Sage beholds Life's threatening sky ; And calmly great amidst the storm, Fears not to live, nor dreads to die ! — To the Tune of — " The Bush aboon Traquair." [From the Same.] Hard as yon gloomy portal's wall, Relentless as yon rocky bound, c G A SELECTION OF VERSES FOR MUSIC. Is ho, who deaf to misery's call Now rules as lord of all around. Does ocean shroud my orphan's form ? Say, does the sea-cave hold my child? Hid from the fierce Atlantic storm, Or water spirit screaming wild? — Say, does he tread forlorn, beguiled, The Avide savannah's burning soil ? Or shrinking dreads in forest wild, The ravenous serpent's deadly coil ? Oh ! hear a wretched suppliant's cry ! Oh ! hear a widow'd mother's moan ! And list the mourner's plaintive sigh, Who kneeling thus demands her son ! [From the Same.] Lightly the shadows stray O'er the green mountain. Gemmed in the sunny ray Sparkles the fountain. See the young lambs at play, Blithe as hope's morrow ! Such our youth's early day, Careless of sorrow ! — Scion of love and joy, Lost in an hour ! \ SELECTION «»| ?EB8E8 FOB HI BU Why did cruel Pate destroy Life*- fairest flower ! Still in thine angel form, Lisp tender numbers ! Still with Heaven's sweetest hymn Bless my -nit slumbers ! [From tin- Hebrew Boj Bright star of heaven, whose cheering r:i\ Can glad the captive's tedious year, And point the eagle's glorious why, < )r insect's path, gay, fluttering near ! Yet vain, alas ! to me thy ray. Thus quenched in darkest, deepest night ; Oh! then, bright intellectual day, Impart thy higher, moral light ! Now lost to me each lovely scene Of pensive eve, or early morn ; No Cynthia's tender, softer beam, To these sad eyes can e'er return ! Yet to the mind's undying eye, Creation's beauteous realm extends. No tearful film can e'er destroy The light that from high heaven descends. Scion of Judah's regal line ! What hope, what fear, for thee combine ' 8 A SELECTION OF VERSES FOR MUSIC. Loved child of him for whom the tear yet swells, Young minstrel of the high, prophetic lay 1 Thy dawn, thy beauteous morning star foretels The brighter promise of thy perfect day ! — [From the Chorus in the Same.] Oh Lady ! turn a gentle ear, And list thy people's plaintive sigh ; Nor stern deny the tender tear That fairest shines in beauty's eye '. Though rich those pastoral mountains swell, Far dearer Gilboa's mournful hill ! Though deep their stream's unfailing well, Far lovelier Jordan's sacred rill ! No more the prophet proud beholds A thousand tents the vale adorn ; Nor sees the trembling foe, aghast, The couching Lion's fearful form !- Now sad Palestia views dismayed A desert where the harvest smiled ; And where the flock and shepherd strayed, The fierce hyama finds a wild. Oh ! could her sons the tyrant spurn, And free the children of her soil ! That high reward would full return The patriot's aim — The patriot's toil * \ SELECTION OF VERSES FOR MUSIC. The fragrant Rose of Sharon's sweet perfume Would breathe where now the stony valleys spread. The vine, the olive, beauteous, richly bloom, Where now the arid thistle rear- it- head. Though sunk in tears, in grief, in woe, Though bound in captive chains, and low. Still does our heart, our bosom glow ; We hail our star that will return Through dark, through deathlike gloom ' Then quench'd the torch of vengeful ire, And bright in day's meridian fire, While cloudless beam Fair Zion's skies ! Our foes shall see their hope expire, Our tribes shall wake the choral lyre, Sacred to all, Blest Salem, rise ! The Vision. [From the Hebrew Boy.] Now has the burning noontide power Declined to softer, sweeter night ; And bathed in dew, each tender flower Expands the charms that shun the light. Fairest in heaven's resplendent arch, The moon her beauteous orb displays ; And silence reigns, and fancy loves To dream of past eventful days. 10 V SELECTION OF VERSES FOR MUSIC. Lo ! forth from Alhambra's portal wide, What shadowy forms in martial lines ! With banners waving, warriors ride, And high the Crescent o'er them shines ! In turbaned pride and gemmed cymar, With burnished arms, how fierce, how bright ! Eager they seek the Christian war, To conquer or to die in fight ! — The shades have passed ! What plaintive wail, Does midnight hear ? What shrieks of woe ! What funeral dirge sighs in the vale, And hopeless weeps the Crescent low ! Sad ruin frowns within the walls Where once the marble fountain played ; The bat usurps those splendid halls Where once the beauteous harem swayed ! [From the Same.] Star of lost Israel's sacred hill, I hail thee Zion from afar ! Thy exiled, weeping children still, Still look to thee, their guide, their star ! Yet does the harp with dying strain Respond our sad, our mournful tone ! Still as of old on Shinar's plain, It echos back the captive's moan. \ SELECTION OF VERSES FOB Ml BIC. 11 Shall e'er that morning gild our land When bright in Syria's glorious ray, Thy children in thy courts shall stand, And bless their father's sacred clay? Eternal Justice ye< shall rise To guard our right, our race r reign ; And nations round with joyful eyes Shall sec lti.-t Zion live again ! •c' [From the Stepmother.] Should joy light thy rosy smile, Sweet girl, believe me, Thy bliss would my care beguile, Why, then, thus leave me? When grief wrings thy tender heart, O ! still believe me ! No charm could then tempt to part ; Could I deceive thee ? Thy love, in soft infancy Cradled me near thee ; Thy song, my youth's early sigh Lulls, when I hear thee ! In life be our joys the same, Happy, when near thee ! In death may one grave contain, Then thou'lt ne'er leave me ! 12 A SELECTION OF VERSES FOR MUSIC. [From the Same.] Sweet sister ! turn thy gentle ear That ne'er was deaf to misery's call ! Oh ! list poor Lionel's humble prayer, Who rests on thee, his Guard, his All ! Oh ! save me from their cruel scorn ! From the fierce Stepdame's iron power, Who threats to dash my feeble form From the dread sea rock's beetling Tower ! For thee I'll find the loveliest gems That sparkle near great ocean's bed ; I'll cull sweet buds with tender stems To grace thy bower, or deck thy head ! [From the Same.] As the far wandering Pilgrim burns, And hails his home of promised rest, The rainbow Dove of Peace returns, And nestles in my sheltering breast. Auspicious Hope shall bring the morn, The rosy hours shall lead the day, Which though obscured by midnight storm, Through tempests darts the heavenly ray. A SELECTION OF VERSES FOB MUSIC. 13 [From the Same.] Caught in the hunter's deadly snare, See the fell She-wolf's dying pangs ; The lamb, the kid now sportive share The verdant mead, nor dread her fan, 'II' unerring bolt hath swiftly pierced The Eagle pouncing from above ; The trembling, tender Dove now hears Her rescued mate's soft note of love ! Though wildest storms of thunder crush This gloomy Castle's haughty Head, The beauteous dawn again shall blush, And bless the shepherd's lowly shed. Chorus of Shades. [From the Stepmother.] First Shade. Prepare the shroud, the pall, the bier ; The King of Terrors rears on high His dart to strike ! — I see him near ! I hear her gasping, struggling sigh ! — Second Shade. Inclosed within Cyclopean walls, Thy feeble moan shall bring no aid ! 11 A SELECTION OF VERSES FOR MUSIC. The gale, the storm, the thunder's voice Shall drown thy cries, till life itself is fled! Third Shade. Like Fury's hiss The surge's lash Shall laugh to scorn Thy pangs, thy woe ! And late remorse With rankling tooth Shall aid fierce famine's deadly throe. Fourth Shade. A cu]) filled with the orphan's tears Shall mock her lip : — her vain grasp tire ! No clew from heaven ; no stream shall quench Her parching fever's burning fire ! Fifth Shade. 1 come from Ocean's caverned gloom To hail Thee, Tenant of the Tomb, Whose hand hath cut, before my time, My thread of life, in early prime, While yet that life was May ! No husband shall with love, though vain, Support thy head, and lull thy pain, And stop the arrest of Death ! No child, with anxious, soothing part, Shall watch with mourning, bleeding heart, To catch thy latest breath ! — ( nine ! haste, and join the Dance of Death ! Behold the Shades in dread array ! They shun the glare of garish day. \ SELECTION OF VERSES FOB MUSIC. 15 They haunt night's blackest noon ! List! — hear their \\ liisjx-rV voiceless " IIu.-li !" They fly the light, the morning blush; In myriads see ! grim Spectres gleam ! They love no cheering, gladdening beam ! All. No hand can stay Thy doom ! Or save from Death's tremendous power: Thy doom is fix'd This Fatal Hour ! — All HASTEN TO the tomb! [From the Guardian.] Though struck by death's resistless power. The Great lay low, — the blest by all, Their fame survives till time's last hour, When burning worlds in ruin fall. *& A nation's tears bedew their grave, Her sighs like, incense rise to heaven ; She points to her historic page, Where live their deeds, in bright example given. Their names on adamantine rock engraved ; In characters of fire, immortal shine ; While round the image of each sacred shade, The laurel and the mourning cypress twine. 16 A SELECTION OF VERSES FOR MUSIC. Chorus from the Guardian. Hail to thee, Flora! Queen of flowers ! Thy gifts how bounteous, rich, and fair ! Their beauty decks our summer bowers, Their fragrant breath perfumes the air ! The nectar cups that feed the bee, Where scented Woodbines graceful twine, The snowy blossom of the tree, The tender clover buds are thine ! Thy fruits refresh the weary lip ; Thy plants assuage all torturing pain, Thy shrubs with softest down enwrap The dark-eyed tribes of Asia's plain. Accept our gift upon thy shrine, The altar of our Northern clime ; Nor scorn the wreath, though poor the bloom Compared to those that richly braid Thy temples with frankincense, paid Beneath the burning line ! Crown with a never-fading flower Our favourite Fair ; — and bless her bower With joy's resplendent rays ! On this auspicious, happy morn, Oh ! be her wreath an emblem worn Of sweet content, and peaceful days ; A rose without a thorn ! A SELECTION OF VERSES FOB Ml BH While airs of heaven around thee breathe, And roses on thy path are spread, Soon may the bridal myrtle wreath, Sweet Clifford ! deck thy beauteous head ! The woods are mine, — the groves of oak, That guard our Isle, in strength arrayed, The acorn branch that binds my brows Proclaims the God who rules their shade. Who, at the eighl of merry, dancing Pan. E'er from his mellow pipe, or beauty ran ? The Pilgrim's Song [From tlic Guardian.] I've sought 'midst emerald meads and bowers, Where mightiest Amazonia strays ; I've seen the fount, where decked with flowers The infant Orinoca plays. Through peaceful fields, where weeps the dew, I've roamed, while fragrant zephyr sighed, Where fell Pizarro ruthless slew The chiefs who for their country died ! I've climbed the steep where whirlwinds reign, Loud, threatening Ocean's deepest well ; 18 A SELECTION OF VERSES FOR MUSIC. And where, in sight's unbounded main, Remotest regions seem to dwell. Th' eternal snows I loved to seek That shroud the rocks, by earthquakes torn ; I've reached the high volcanic peak, Whose midnight fires illume the storm. Now in sweet Cambria's loveliest vale, On Conway's bank I'll lay me low ; — Shade of the bard ! — thy deathless lyre Still seems to mourn her Cambria's wot: ! For thee, young floweret ! tender, fair, How bright thy star ! serenely mild ! A radiant angel's watchful care Will shield from wrong the orphan child ! And as yon orb, with heavenly ray, 'Midst beams of glory seeks the west, So, honoured in life's closing day, The parent's hoary head shall rest ! To the Tune of — " God save the King." [From the Guisarts, in "The Village School."] Strike the bold harp again. Loud let its chords proclaim Britons are free ! — High o'er the rolling main, Joy shall exalt the strain, A BELE< rio.N OF VKUsks FOB Ml -it . L9 Slaves now have rent their chain, Britons arc tree ! ( Hi ! may each bliss extend Wide o'er our happy land, First of the free ! Brave in the battle hour, Firm as a rock thy power, Ne'er shall late o'er thee lower, Britain, while fr< Si ill great and glorious shine, Bright as the sun, thy line, Britain, when 1'ree ! ( >h ! may thy noble heart Still spurn the tyrant's chain. Quell proud oppression's power. Die, or be tree ' To the Tune of — "Maggy Laddeh [From the Guisarts.] While stand the ramparts of our Isle, Her rocks, the ocean bounding, If blest with Freedom's guardian smile. Let hymns of joy be sounding. But plant the standard of the Free, Should danger's frown alarm us ; Our sacred right, our liberty, With dauntless power shall arm us ' 20 A SELECTION OF VERSES EOR MUSIC Behold ! the eagle soaring flies Through clouds resplendent, burning ! Nor bends on earth his quenchless eyes, To heaven's bright day-star turning ! So strong, so brave in purpose high, The soul with Freedom warming, In glory's track looks to the sky, And scorns nil fear alarming ! To the Tune oe — "Johnny MacGill." While far on the ocean my sailor is gone, And swift glides the bark o'er the wide rolling sen. While danger is arming, and tempests alarming, The spring is unlovely, — it blooms not for me ! Now cheerless I fly from the dance, from the revel, At even I lilt my sad note on the hill ; — 'Midst jeerin' and sneerin', wi' grief my heart tearin', Oh ! nane looked sae kindly as Johnny MacGill ! Though dark frowns the eve o'er the deep gloomy vale, And sadly I trace my lone path on the lea, Yet sweet comes the dawning, all beauty recalling, The sun to the valley, — my Johnny to ine ! — As the exile returning from sorrow, from mourning, In joy and in tears views the loved native hill, And hails the bright morning, all nature adorning, So, welcome to Mary, her Johnny MacGill ! a selection of verses for music. 21 The Swiss Flower Girl. [From "Stories for the Young."] \\ Kile life beams in joy like the ray of the morning, And youth like the flower blooming fair in the dell, Ah ! pity the helpless, the orphan, the stranger, Now for from her home the lov'd mountains of Tell ! M\ lilies breathe sweet in the dew of the evening, How fragrant the violet ! how fresh the bluebell ! Buy ;i rose from the Orphan, — give aid to the friendh Who sighs for her home, the bright mountains of Tell ! ( )li ! fairest of all is the hind of m\ fathers ! There the hnive and the free ever happily dwell ! How blest my return to the hut of my childhood; To the home of my heart, 'midst the mountains of Tell ' And when from your Island the pilgrim shall wander To the high sunny Alps that encircle our dell, Enraptured I'll point to the cliffs, to the valleys, " See ! the Land of my Sires, the free mountains of Tell !" The Fairy's Song. [From the Village School.] Come to thy golden bower, Maid of the Mountain ! Sweet bud of Beauty's Flower, Fresh from the fountain ! Soft be thy nightly dream Lulled by sweet numbers ! Peaceful thy bosom Like infancy's slumbers ! 22 A SELECTION OF VERSES FOR MUSIC. Roses shall bloom o'er thee, Music shall charm thee ! Selim shall watch o'er thee ! Nought shall alarm thee ! To the Tune of — " Jockey to the Fair.'" [From the Village School.] As down the glen I chanced to rove, A Shepherd mourned his absent love, With plaintive song, or trembling reed, He sought to lull his pain. The tender lambs lay listening near, The music of his voice to hear ; The lark, sweet minstrel ! sings above, From heaven descends his song of love ; The mournful dove replies ; In tears of dew the flowerets weep, And echo sadly sighs. The Shepherd sung, " Oh ! come, sweet maid ! Why lingering thus ? why thus afraid ? All nature decks the verdant glade, And blooms to welcome thee ! The redbreast here shall guard his nest, His strain shall soothe thy pensive breast ; The rose shall blush while thou art here, Sweet buds all fragrance breathing near Shall woo, shall charm thy stay ; And love and joy entreat thine ear To list thy Shepherd's Lay." THE POWER OF CONSCIENCE. A DRAMATIC POEM k\vi HP9P the POWER OF CONSCIENCE. A DRAMATIC POEM. BY MRS LECKIE, AUTHORESS OF THE VILLAGE SCHOOL, AND STORIES FOR THE YOUNG. EDINBURGH: EDINBURGH PRINTING AND PUBLISHING COMPANY GLASGOW: J. SMITH & SON. ABERDEEN: L. SMITH. LONDON: SMITH, ELDER, & CO. M.DCCC.XLI. MRS JOANNA BAILLIE, Tills VOLUME is in SCRIBED, WITH •; I.- c a i HESPE< i . 15 V THE AUTHOR Edinburgh, 4, Stafford Street. CHARACTERS Reginald. Augusta, his Niece. Philip, hia Steward. Alyne, Daughter of Philip. Hubert, a Shepherd Boy, Son of Philin. Alzire, a Mulatto Woman. Group of Villagers. — -> ,'», S!,^t7s*>is1 THE POWER OF CONSCIENCE. ACT I. Scene I. — The front of an old baronial mansion, of the Gothic form, vlih on avenue of trees. Mountains at a distance. Evening. Augusta enters, in deep mourning, and si Hard as von gloomy portal wall, Relentless as yon rocky bound, Is he, who, deaf to misery's call, Now rules as lord of all around ! Enter Reginald. Augusta again sings. Does ocean shroud my orphan's form ? Say, does the sea-cave hold my child ? Hid from the fierce Atlantic storm, And Water Spirit screaming wild I 8 THE POWER OF CONSCIENCE. Say, does he tread, forlorn, beguiled, The wide savannah's burning soil ? Or, shrinking, dreads in forest wild The ravenous serpent's deadly coil? Oh 1 hear a wretched suppliant's cry ! Oh 1 hear a widowed mother's moan ! And list the mourner's plaintive sigh, Who, kneeling, thus demands her son ! Reginald. Will thy unceasing clamour never tire Thus to disturb my peace ? — Thy father's dead, And thou at liberty to go where'er Thou listest. — Hence ! — Search for thy child; Stolen from thy care he was, but not by me. I know not where he is. — But mark my words, If with thy rash and most unjust suspicion, Thou thinkest in thy mind I caused the theft, Or breathest such a whisper in the ears Of those who give thee shelter — mark me, I say ; Thou knowest me 1 Augusta. These many years of suffering and of sorrow You've mocked my hopes, which trusted that he lived ! A father's tender love cheer'd my lone heart, And painted happy hours in store for me, When my sweet boy should bless his mother's arms. What you have been, since lord of this domain. THE POWER OF CONSCIENCE. Withheld from him whose right you feel it is, I need not now remind you. Reginald. Leave me, I say, This insolence shall cost you dear. — Who waits ? .1 violent storm, thunder. Enter Philip. Reginald. Turn this distracted woman forth to ro am Beyond the utmost bounds where I command; And, at your peril, see that no one dares, Of those dependent on me, to give aid Or harbour to her. Augusta. The storm is fearful, I am far from home. Then let me beg One night for pity ! — I'll ne'er trouble more. Reginald. No, not one night! Augusta. Then take my last farewell, But in your dying hour remember me ! Scene II. — A wife, wild heath. Night. A violent storm. Enter Augusta alone. Augusta. Why, cruel Fate, have my sad, sorrowing days, Been lengthened to this hour? And is my breast 10 THE POWER OF CONSCIENCE. A mark to meet thine arrows for a pastime ? In joy and peace my early years were spent ; But now o'erwhelming ruin closes round me. In such a storm, to turn me from his door! Alone, and unprotected from its violence ! His brother's child, whose infancy he fondled ! The meanest beggar, in the vilest rags, His menials would have sheltered with compassion. My child ! my orphan boy ! the thought of thee Brings madness ! Cradled in luxury, thy beauty grew Expanding like the fairest, tender flower ! Now left in basest want, thou begg'st thy bread, Abandoned by the wretch who stole thee from me !- In piteous accents, and with gushing tears, Thou dost implore a scanty, wretched morsel, Which thy own vassals would despise to touch ! Oh ! hadst thou died, while safe within my arms, I had been blest . But these alternate tortures of suspense Nature can bear no longer ! Let the loud tempest rage with tenfold fury, 'Tis but a mockery to the fiercer fever That burns within my brain ! — THE POWER OF CONSCIENCE. 11 His Angel Form illumes the midnight darkness, While rays of Heaven enwrcathe his beauteous brow ! lb beckons me ! — I follow ! \_Dies. Scene III. — Enter Alzire, disguised as a Moorish /"illager8 and Philip. She sings and plays in reciuv on a guitar. Alzire. I come from Afric's burning shon Tell me thy wish Believe my magic power. I've lingered 'midst the Theban walls, I've learnt the lore their Priests have taught In the vast Fane's gigantic halls, Where Sages inspiration caught I've heard the desert lion roar, Where thirsty wilds no waters lave : I've seen the vulture hover o'er The dying pilgrim's sandy grave. Does Power, does Fame thy spirit warm ? Would'st that to thee the Nations bow ? I know a word, I know a charm, Will lay the proudest Despot low. Do Riches every bliss combine ? I'll change to gold what now is lead, I'll charm the diamond from the mine, And pearl from ocean's deepest bed. 12 THE POWER OF CONSCIENCE. Does Beauty turn with scornful tone ? Nor heeds thy tears, thy kneeling low ? I'll make her change her haughty frown. And smile, and list thy fondest vow. Does Music's note enchant thine ear ? I'll warble thee a tender strain, Shall charm an Angel down to hear Such heavenly sweetness breathed again ! Alzire to Philip. I wish to see the master of yon castle. Philip. For what purpose ? Alzire. I have a tale to tell him Which he'll be pleased to hear. Admit me now, And you shall be rewarded. Scene IV. — A large vaulted room splendidly furnished, having one large Gothic window. Reginald is reclining on a couch. Philip enters. Reginald. What noise and revelry is this I hear ? Philip. A Moorish lad, who sings, and plays strange tricks, Has gathered all the villagers around him. He begs to be admitted to your presence, That you may hear his tales. Will you allow him ? Reginald. No. — I care not for his foolery. — Begone ! THE- POWER OF CONS