LIBRARY UNIVERSITY Of CALIFORNIA POEMS AND SONGS. BY ANDREW GLASS. AYR: printed and published fotj the $uthoj] by HENRY AND GRANT. JIDCCCLXIX. LOAN STACK TO KENNEDY BROWN, ESQ., GIRVAN, iis is KI.Sl'ECTFULLY DEDICATED, AS A GRATEFUL TRIBUTE FOR MANY ACTS OF KINDNESS RENDERED TO THE AUTHOR. PEEFACE. NF.AKT.Y all the Poems and Songs contained in this Volume have from time to time appeared in the columns of Ayrshire Newspapers. Many of them were hurriedly written, and lack that polish so essential to true Poetry; but, at the solicitation of many friends, I have been in- duced to publish them in the present form. Those who peruse this Book to discover imperfections will find many ; but as some of the Pieces refer to places in the County endeared by many a fond recollection, and as the vale of the Girvan has been unsung by a nobler Poet, such considerations, despite its imperfections, were the chief reasons for inducing me to accede to a request so highly gratifying. The measure of success that has been vouchsafed, even previous to publication, is a source of much satisfaction ; and I would be destitute of a proper feeling of gratitude did I not warmly thank all those who have already thought so much of these stray effusions as to subscribe for my unpretending Volume. ANDREW GLASS. AYR, March, 1869. CONTENTS. SUNBEAMS, ...... 9 THE SEA, . . . . . 12 THE PRODIGAL, . . . . . .15 IN MEMORIAM: WILLIAM BUCHANAN, . . 18 PENKILL AND GLENQUHAPLE, . . . .21 GIRVAN WATER, ..... 25 OLD DAILLY CHURCHYARD, . . . .29 THE MONEY CRISIS, ..... 33 THE CASTLEHILL, . . . . .37 LADY CATHCART'S LAMENT, .... 41 THE STREAMS, . . . . . .44 HOLYROOD, ...... 47 CAMREGGAN BURN, . . . . .53 SONG OF THE UNEMPLOYED, . . . 55 SPRING, . . . . . . .57 IN MEMORIAM : LORD CLYDE, ... 60 A LAY TO SCOTLAND, . . . . .63 TO A ROBIN, ...... 66 WINTER, . . . . . . .68 IN MEMORIAM: WILLIAM CLARK, 71 REST, ....... 73 DEATH OF COL. BLAIR, OF BLAIRQUHAN, . . 76 LOVELY GALLOWAY, . . . . .78 CONTEXTS. Vll LINKS ON AKK AN, .... NDS, THK DANISH FLOWER, BATTLE OF INKERMAX, . A "WELCOME TO GARIBALDI, . AUTUMN, ..... THE LILIES OF THE FIELD, . SONC, OF -I'll!'. I'OMIXG YEAR, A BIRTH-DAY SONG, .... THANKS FOll THE LIFEBOAT, ANNIE'S HEAVEN AN' MAIR TO ME, GREEN AX CASTLE, IX MEM 1 1 III AM: CAPTAIN BLAKENEY, r.RoUNsmxE CASTLE, . ci;n;<;LETON CASTLE, ARIH: 1'LE, LINES ON THE MARRIAGE OF A DEAR FRIEND, TUT. HARVEST MOON is STREAMING, LOVE, . LINES ON THE DEATH OF A YOUNG LADY, THE I10XXY .STREAMS G' AYRSHIRE, . i;i:ArriFUL MAY, .... DIIF.AM OF THE LITTLE COTTON-PIECER, PEACE, COLUMBIA! THE EMIGRANT'S FAREWELL, SONG OF THE CARRICK FISHERMAN, THE S A P, BATH, .... ON HEARING A MAVIS SING IN GLASGOW, A FAREWELL, .... ARDMILLAN BAY, .... PAGE 81 83 85 87 89 92 94 96 99 101 103 105 109 112 114 116 118 120 122 124 126 128 131 134 136 138 141 143 145 Vlll CONTENTS. PAGE GLENDOUNE, . . . . . .147 A WINTER STORM, . . . . .149 LINES SUGGESTED BY THE ARRIVAL OF LORD CLYDE, 152 ON THE DEATH OF THE REV. WILLIAM DILL, . .155 BRITAIN'S VOLUNTEERS, .... 157 A CHRISTMAS CAROL, . . . . .159 THE SUN'S GANE TO REST, . . . . 162 SONG OF THE SHUTTLE, . . . . .164 OH ! DN1NA LEAVE FAIR SCOTIA'S SHORE, . . 167 LINES SUGGESTED BY THE CLOSING YEAR, . .169 GRANU TO HER SON, . . . . .176 ARRAN, ..... . 179 LINES ON THE ERECTION OF GENERAL NEILL's MONUMENT, 181 SUMMER, . . . . . . .183 ADDRESS OF LORD G 'S TENANTRY, . . 186 JEANIE MOFFAT, . . . . . .189 LORD EGLINTON'S BIRTH-DAY, . . . 191 PADDY'S HALLUCINATIONS, .... 194 THE SUN HAD PRESSED HIS OCEAN BED, . . 197 KILKERRAN'S BONNY BRAES, .... 199 LINES WRITTEN ON BURNS* ANNIVERSARY, . . 201 SHAM FIGHT AT POLLOC, .... 204 LINES WRITTEN ON THE OPENING OF GIRVAN RAILWAY, 209 LINES ON THE DEATH OF CAPTAIN WILSON, . .212 THE COTTON FAMINE, . . . .214 LINES ON A TOMBSTONE IN ARDROSSAN CEMETERY, . 216 POEMS AND SOXGS. SUNBEAMS. BRIGHT Sunbeams of Summer, come back again, And quaff the clear dew-drops that gleam on the plain. The woodlands are weary of waiting on you, And the bird you bring with you the gladsome Cuckoo. Arise o'er the mountains on valleys and fens, Awaken the music that sleeps in the glens, .For since you departed they're joyless and bare, And the winds wander through them with notes of despair. Bright Sunbeams of Summer, say, where have you been Since you danced with the butterflies here on the green ] Have you lit the Pacific and gazed on its isles, And given their daughters your gladsomest smiles ? 10 SUNBEAMS. Or strayed where the roses of India bloom, Through the valleys of Cashmere, and breathed their per- fume ? Marched o'er the Sahara, and blazed on its sand, And shone on the pyramids mighty and grand 1 ? Bright Sunbeams of Summer, haste back to the North, And call the poor child of the Esquimaux forth To gaze on your glory and dance on the snow, And forget in your radiance his winter of woe ; The icy chains sever that bind up the rills, The snows of Creation sweep down from the hills, And the avalanche loudly your glories will sing, As it rolls down the mountains where darkness reigns king. Bright Sunbeams of Summer, rejoicing the earth, The land must be lovely that first gave you birth. Ye fall on the forests and bathe them in green ; Ye fall on the rivers, like silver their sheen ; Ye fall on the ocean in glory untold, And stream o'er its waters like torrents of gold ; Ye fall on the wilderness, lonely and drear, And the flowers that lay scentless in fragrance appear. SUNIiKAMS. 11 1 '.right Sunbeams of Summer, ye enter the cell WJu'iv tho wretched, the outcast, the criminal dwell, And shine on their fetters as fondly and fair A > i f none but the purest and noblest were there. liright, brilliant, effulgent, ye come from above To iaich us the lesson that Heaven is Love ; For on cottage and castle, on hovel and hall, < hi saint and on sinner ye equally fall. liright Sunbeams of Summer, ye herald the time "When love like your light shall pervade every clime, < 'onstraining the erring to come back again T< i the fold of the Shepherd on Calvary slain, Who came from the Source of the sunbeams above, To ransom and lead us to mansions of love To chase the dark demon of sin far away To the regions ne'er lit by the sunbeams of day. THE SEA. THE SEA. SUGGESTED BY THE WRECK OF THE LONDON. SEA ! beautiful Sea, how sweet to stray O'er the sunlit beach, on a summer day ! When the rippling waves on the golden shore Are singing such dreamlike music o'er, That echo is silent within his cave, And the sea-gull sleeps on the glassy wave, While the sailor boy longs for the breeze to come That shall waft him back to his old loved home. Sea ! stormy Sea, how dread the roar Of thy wintry waves on the rocky shore ! When the foam of their fury is flung on high O'er the beetling crags which their wrath defy ; THE SEA. 13 AYlu'ii the mermaids, dripping within their caves, [ with affright on the yeasty waves ; And the hurricane's voice, in the rock-bound "bay, Is hoard o'er the mountains far away. boisterous Sea, when thy waves run high, And lightnings drop from the murky sky, "When cloud o'er cloud in confusion is hurled, Like the massive wreck of a mighty world Then the stately ship and her gallant crew Shudder to try their strength with you ; For there's death to those who dare to brave The might that rests in thy crested wave. Sea ! pitiless Sea, could' st thou not spare That gallant ship with its freight so fair Of women, and children, and men as brave As e'er in thy waters found a grave 1 Could their lofty courage not melt thy mood, As serene on the storm-swept deck they stood ; And while fiends in the air were ringing their knell, Replied with a prayer and a calm farewell ? 14 THE SEA. Sea ! terrible Sea, retain you may Such trophies won to the final day ; But when earth is ended, and time is fled, And thou art commanded to yield thy dead, Then issuing forth from thy depths far down, They shall rise to receive their immortal crown, And look a last radiant look on thee, As they pass to where there is " no more Sea." THE PRODIGAL. 1 "' THE PEODIGAL. I WILL arise and to my Father go ; I long to see his face before I die ; When once he sees my wretchedness and woe, He may look on me with a pitying eye, Forgive his erring, poor, repentant son, For all the foul transgressions he has done. Here do I perish for the lack of bread, An outcast and a swineherd oh my God ! How little did I dream when forth I fled From my dear Father's loving, blest abode, That I would fall so low ; I fain would eat The husks the swine tread 'neath their unclean 16 THE PRODIGAL. Ungrateful world ! I gave you all I had Health, wealth, and strength and ye bestow to me The liberty to starve I'm surely mad ! Afar from home and sunlit Galilee : I will go back and seek my Father's face, He may assign to me a servant's place. The meanest servants have enough of bread Who wear the livery of my youthful home, While o'er me famine's sable wings are spread : I will return. Sire, I come, I come ! Do with me as thou wilt j I ask no more Than be the humblest servant at thy door. Pale, wasted, and forlorn, he turned his face Towards the home where youth flew joyous by ; His Father watched each homeward, weary pace, With pity beaming in his anxious eye ; Ean forth and met him, wept, and kissed his son, Ere well his homeward journey was begun. " Against thee, Father, and kind Heaven," he said, " My sins have been of blackest, deepest dye ; THE PRODIGAL. 17 ( >h, k-t me be the humblest servant made, I as a son I did thy laws defy. My many acts of disobedience prove 1 am unworthy of thy heartfelt love." " Bring hither shoes," the loving Father said, " And on his finger put a precious ring ; Son, on my bosom rest thy weary head, Till forth the richest robe my servants bring : Let mirth and gladness through my halls resound, My darling son was lost, but now is found ! " 18 IN MEMORIAM. X MEMOEIAM: WILLIAM BUCHAXAX. THE Poet, Patriot, Politician Friend Of all who needed sympathy or aid, Has passed away how sudden was his end ! To where despairing fears are all allayed Within the silent tomb BUCHANAN'S laid ! His star arose effulgent, but it set, Like many a brilliant one, in sudden gloom ; Alas ! that genius should the light beget That often lures but to an early tomb, And leaves dull millions moping in their room. IN MEMORIAL. 1 ( .) liis grave I could sit clown and weep : But what's my sorrow to BUCHANAN now ? Ifis is the calm serenity of sleep, Mine but the aching heart and fevered brow, As o'er his early grave I sadly bow. His pathos, satire, sentiment, and song, Were gifts that drifted him temptation near ; And as I tread the voiceless graves among, I think on all his trials, with a tear, And judge with charity one lov'd so dear. A friend to truth an enemy to cant He held up to derision what was wrong ; Despising, to his injury, the rant That passes current with the thoughtless throng, And yet they lov'd him for his wit and song. Had he but trirnm'd his sails to catch the breeze That blows from lordly quarters like some Priest He might have yet been living, at his ease, And holding in his Goschen fast and feast, Admir'd by many a worldly saint, at least. 20 IN MEMORIAM. But sycophancy never was his sin ; He feared its meanness more than want of bread. The mighty mass of men were judged by him Not by their wealth, but by their heart and head : All, but the Panderer, lov'd whate'er he said. Could I in characters eternal write A lasting epitaph, the words would be " Pure as the stars that gem the robes of night Large as the treasures of the boundless sea BUCHANAN'S sympathies to all were free ! " PENKILL AND GLKNQUIIAPLE. PEXKILL AXD GLEXQUHAPLE. A REMINISCENCE. SING not to me of classic streams, But of Glenquhaple's flowery dells ; They haunt me yet like pleasant dreams On which the memory fondly dwells, Its yellow broom and hazel trees, I see them waving in the breeze. I see its waters flashing bright When leaping o'er Knockgerrin linn, I hear them singing with delight Their everlasting mountain hymn, As past Penkill they sweep in pride, To woo the Girvan as a bride. Penkill ! what visions of the past Thy name recalls to memory dear, PENKILL AND GLENQUHAPLE. Before life's dream was overcast Even with the shadow of a fear When earth appeared a blest abode, And life a long, bright joyous road. Where are my merry comrades where, Who woke the echoes of the glen ? Why am I left alone with care, At home a stranger among men ? And only in a rock or tree, An old familiar form to see. Penkill remains, but they are gone That through its loopholes wont to gaze ; Perhaps like me they're dreaming on * Its hoary towers, Glenquhaple's braes, And gathering, far beyond the seas, Brown nuts, red rowans from its trees. Some to Australia strayed afar ; Some tried their fortune on the main ; Some followed Colin Campbell's star ; Some found a grave on India's plain PF.XKILL AND GLENQUHAPLE. -'> Tli.- wandering winds tho requiem raves ( H' sonic who lie beneath the waves. And I am left, but not alone, Penkill's grey towers remain to me, Reminding me in many a tone Of those I never more may see, Who sat beside its tottering Avail, And sported in its roofless hall. Earth ! give me back the friends I love, And I will thank thee now with tears ; Oh! through Glenquhaple let us rove, And view the scenes of bygone years, And on its braes again we'll sing veil to woe and wandering ! ! fairest, dearest spot on earth ; Home ! when exiled we turn to thee ; Home. ! who forgets its joyous hearth, The haunt of love, truth, amity ? Home! though that place be bleak and bare, Home, childhood's home, is ever fair ! 24 PEXKILL AND GLENQUHAPLE. Home ! many quit its hallowed shade In search of what they never find ; For gold oft lost as soon as made They leave the sacred spot behind, Where love presides best gift of God- To cheer us on life's weary road. With love, a cottage by a brook, In some fair glen, is better far Than palaces, though grand the look, If won by fraud or deadly war. If love lights up the humblest cot, Then that's a holy, happy spot. Sing then no more of lands afar, But of Glenquhaple's sunlit dells The towering peak, the giddy scaur, Australia's golden strand excels. Fame, fortune, glory, idly beam, To lure me from its mountain stream. G I RYAN WATER. 25 GIRVAN WATER. A REMINISCENCE. THE silvery Tweed and Celtic Tay Resound in many a Scottish song, But Girvan winds its unsung way By stately castles old and strong, "Whose lords have followed Britain's star On flood and field in many a war. Brave Blair, who fell on Inkerman, Kndears its name to more than me, And sets the Castle of Blairquhaii In Scotland's crown of chivalry Long may its towers, fair Carrick's pride, Be mirrored in its silvery tide. c 26 GIRVAN WATER. Descending from its mountain throne, It laves Ivilkerran's floAvery land ; Then in its sweetest undertone It murmurs past Bargany grand ; And waters, ere it seeks the sea, Killochan, ever dear to me. And dear to all who love to see The forest's children waving high, Who love a clover-scented lea Where flowerets bloom of every dye ; Or love to sit and idly dream By Carrick's fairest mountain stream. Killochan's towers are growing grey, But Girvan's stream is still as "bright As when at first it did display Its "beauty to the God. of Light Unclouded as the fancies wove In boyhood's day, of fame and love. Like western clouds with sunset tinged, Youth's dreams and joys have passed away, G1HVAX WATER. loft the world with sadness fringed I 'ark, drear}", as a wintry day : 1 tivmble at the coming blast, If all the future's like the past. Yet memory, faithful as the dove That seeks its woodland home to die, Returns to seek the fount of love It first beheld in woman's eye : And through the misty screen of years A mother's loving face appears. Where Girvan woos the azure tide, We hand in hand langsyne did stray, And gazed upon the ocean wide, ( Jre at Ailsa looming far away : Xo\v wandering stars that light the wave Are shining on her humble grave. Why then remain when those are gone That guarded, loved, and taught me Truth, Like Adam, fallen and alone, sighing for the bowers of youth : GIRVAN WATER. My Eden vanished from the earth When death descended on her hearth. Tho' kindred links are rent in twain, Fair stream, thy bowers are dear to me ; Killochan's towers and flowery plain In wistful dreams I often see : And Time will never dim their face, Kor plant a rival in their place. OLD DAILLY CHURCHYARD. OLD DAILLY CHURCHYARD. OLD Dailly, peaceful, sweet abode, Thy memory still is dear to me ; Tho' years have fled since last I trod The precincts of thy sanctuary, And watched the ravens idly spread Their sable wings above the dead. Tho' sycamores their branches wave Above the altar's roofless shrine ; Tho' nettles spring from aisle and nave, And through the gables moonbeams shine ; Yet still I love the old grey walls, rp which the ivy darkly crawls. Oft have I sat beneath their shade, In dreamy mood, in years gone by, 30 OLD DAILLY CHURCHYARD. And seen the worshippers arrayed Beneath the godly pastor's eye The rich, the poor, whose names are gone, Even from the sad memorial stone. On Sabbath morn, here old and young, From cot and castle, came to pray ; Here Zion's songs they sweetly sung ; Now, all is silence and decay, Except the stream that murmurs by That spot, where generations lie. And sadly yet it seems to sing The requiem of the martyr' d brave, Who owned on earth no other king Than He who triumphed o'er the grave ;- The purchased blessings we partake Of those who died for conscience' sake. From every crevice seemed to speak A tongue that told a tale of yore How Semple, guiltless, godly, meek, Was slain, for truth before the door OLD DAILLY CHURCHYARD. 31 Wlu-n Pride and Prelacy combined To chain the diainlcss human mind. Within its shade the ashes lie Of knights, whose bright heraldic shields And pennons proudly flaunted, high, And glory reaped on battle-fields Cathcart, a name to Carrick dear, Boyd and Dalrymple sleepeth here. And here, unknown to fame, alas ! Eepose the friends I loved in youth ; The dewdrops trembling on the grass Xo purer are than was the truth They taught to me in bygone years : Now on their graves I look through tears. Beneath the yew tree's sombre shade, Beside Penwhauple's mountain stream, Where Summer's riches are displayed, And peace and beauty reign supreme, They found if not a sculptur'd tomb A flowery spot, a peaceful home. 32 OLD DAILLY CHURCHYARD. Here nothing "breaks the solitude, Except old Dailly's distant mill, The cushat cooing in the wood, The music of the passing rill ; 'No other sounds than these intrude Upon their silent dreamless mood. Here would I lay my weary head, When ended is life's fitful dream, And mingle with the spirits fled When stars light up Penwhauple's stream ;- The Old Kirk's hoary, ivied dome Would give me what I seek A HOME. THE MONEY CRISIS. 33 THE MONEY CRISIS. SUGGESTED BY THE FAILURE OF THE WESTERN BANK. I TECH sirs! the gowd is unco saut A "Money Crisis" some folk ca't; Tis sure tae scrimp the puir man's pat, My humble frien' They say the Western's no worth that : 'Tis doon yestreen ! While Winter, wi' it's chilly frown, Has cast its shadow o'er the town, iin', like Lear, without a crown, Exposed an' bare, While giant Want is hov'ring round Wi' hungry glare. 34 THE MONEY CRISIS. Adversities, like flakes o' snaw, Baith thick and fast upon us fa', But sairest aye put to the wa' Is Labour's bairn Misfortune liauds him in her claw, Relentless, stern. He has nae gear, alas ! nor Ian' ; His bits o' claes gang tae the pawn; He thinks against the stream tae stan'; But doon he goes Anither victim tae a ban' 0' ruthless foes. A' this is caused by speculation, Within a sae-ca'd Christian nation, That lang has held the foremaist station For gear an' faith : Koo everything's tae desolation For want o' baith ! Like decent Lot, frae Sodom gaun, They'll no tak' time tae speak or stan'; THE MONEY CRISIS. '>"> ('.(utility mirlit shake the lian' An' rest its shanks But on it's striding, like a man, drain the banks! l.ut aye ascending, here and there, May still be heard a heartfelt prayer, That in the bank they had nae in air, Like niony ithers A groan is a' they ha'e tae spare Tae luckless brithers. Lord save us frae the hammer noo, For times are lookin' unco blue, Our granaries are burstm' fou, Tae sell is ruin : Lord, gie us time tae mix the An' put the screw on ! But surely a' ye ha'e's no ganc? Ye still display a gowden chain, An' linen fair, withoot a stain: Ye're unco braw 36 THE MONEY CRISIS. An' if ye but some time can gain, Ye'll manage a'. But should a' fail, ye're no alane, Just look at that bit ragged wean That's cluttering by a cauld hearthstane, Wi' want maist dead, Whase faither's tae the sodgers gane For want o' bread. Come cheer his sorrowing mither's heart, And dinna act the Levite's part; Ye hae the gowd ye needna start ! Wad soothe her care, An' mak the demon, Want, depart Back tae his lair. By acting thus ye but fulfil The mandates of kind Heaven's will; You honour your dishonoured bill Upon the bank That ever blesses good and ill Of every rank. THE CASTLE-HILL. 37 THE CASTLE-HILL. How fair looks Arran from the Castle-Hill, That looms in grandeur o'er Ardrossan bay ! How bright the beauty of the flashing rill, That rushes down the face of Goatfell grey ! How strange that Mature ever can distil That liquid thread that never knows decay; While men in myriads, since its mountain birth, Have passed for ever from the scenes of earth. Around are strewn, in ruin'd heaps, the pride Of great Do Berclay and his lady fair : Through starlit rooms the bats like spectres glide, Where maidens danc'd with jewels in their hair. 38 THE CASTLE-HILL. The ivy slowly creepeth up the side Of walls now ruined, desolate, and bare ; Gone are the warders from De Berclay's towers, And love and music from his lady's bowers. Here once they gazed enraptured on the sea, And felt delighted with its music grand, As on its waves came trooping joyously, Like merry children, o'er the golden sand. Xow loud, now low its everlasting key It sounded to them on the shelly strand It still is beautiful but where are they Whose songs went sounding o'er the sunlit bay ? Gone to the dusty darkness of the earth, Their deeds and generations now unknown ! Tis sad to see the nettles grace the hearth Where love and beauty once had rais'd their throne ; To hear the night winds rave where once reign'd mirth, The spacious hall with noxious weeds o'ergrown, And not a voice to syllable the name Of those who dreamed once of eternal fame. THE CASTLE-HILL. .">'.) What's fame or empire, glory or a crown, When earth claims all we have, and us at last? The greatest man's no better than a clown When nine or ten decades have o'er him past. MOW the tyrant Time pulls castles down, And withers beauty with his blighting blast ! Even robs of letters the memorial stones That told the virtues of a few great ones. ( 'ontrasted with the ruin at my side How fair seems Arran Queen of Scotia's isL The Goatfell, looming in the azure tide, Excels the grandest of their lordly piles. How young and beautiful appears the Clyde, On wliich the setting sun serenely smiles Old as creation, yet for ever new, Each morn presents it to our wondering view. How bright the sunshine, and how deep the shade, That chase each other o'er its fields of blue ! How stately o'er them sweep the teams of trade.', Yet leave no furrow that the eye can view ; 40 THE CASTLE-HILL. While in their wake, with Union Jack displayed, Sail Britain's bulwarks, manned by patriots true- Our island's safety and our country's pride May God go with them o'er the heaving tide. The radiant sun now sinks on ocean's breast ; Each flower around me shuts its dewy eye ; In all the beauty of the rainbow drest The clouds are glowing in the western sky ; The light haze settles down on Ailsa's crest, And stars come trooping o'er the hilltops high ; De Berclay's towers are fading from my view, I sigh to leave them, but, good night, adieu ! LADY CATIICART'S LAMENT. LADY CATHCAET'S LAMENT. Am "Jock o 1 Uazhdean" WHAUR Lendall glides in sportive pride, By Carlton's proud ha', The Lady sat at evening tide Beside the Castle wa' ; Sair, sair she grat, for news had come That Scotland's king was slain, An' mony a knight, o' warlike fame, Lay cauld on Flodden's plain. " Oh, will my lord return to me And Carrick's peaceful shore ! Or am I destined wae tae dree Alang wi' thousands more ? D 42 LADY CATHCART'S LAMENT. My "brave leal knight, frae Surrey's might Would scorn, I ken, to flee ; But if he's slain in Modden's fight I care na when I dee. " The simmer lichts upon the lea, Wi' beauty on its wings, And o'er each burnie, bush, an' tree Unclouded glory flings : The lav'rock lilts high in the lift, The merlin in the grove, But what is Nature's rarest gift Bereft o' Eobin's love 1 " How dreary Lendall's braes are noo, That ance appeared sae fair, Since he is gane that wont to pu' Their flowers to deck my hair ! Amang the broom I lanely mourn For him that's far awa', While in the singing mountain burn My tears unheeded fa'." LADY CATHCART'S LAMENT. !:* She raised her head an' pale lie stood, In armour, by the stream ; Her cry o' joy rang thro' the wood He vanished like a dream ! When morning came they found her dead, Among the waving broom ; Her spirit wi' his wraith had fled To Flodden's field o' gloom. 44 THE STREAMS. THE STREAMS. THE streams, the streams, the beautiful streams, That sparkle among the trees, How sweet their song as they dance along To the deep unbounded seas ! Where violets grow on shady banks, They may a moment stay, Then swift they rush past brake and bush Impatient of delay. Then sing the streams, the beautiful streams, So brilliant, pure, and free, That seek to rest where the glowing west Lights up the azure sea. THE STREAMS. The streams, the streams, the bountiful streams, That enrich this land of ours, They kiss the grass as they onward pass, And smile on the wildwood flowers : The lily would pine and the seggan fade, The bulrush droop and die, Were it not the brooks that water the nooks Where they hide from the sun's bright eye. Then sing the streams, the bonny clear streams, Whose beauties are free to all ; That flash as pure past the cottage door As they do by the lordly hall. The streams, the streams, the bewitching streams, Who has not felt their power To recall the past, too bright to last, Of many a happy hour? When far away, and the heart is sad, We fly, in some sweet dream, To the cottage door, where we gazed of yore, On the singing mountain stream. Then sing the streams, the silvery streams, Whose waters are ever fair; 4G THE STREAMS. Time leaves no trace on their sunlit face That his fingers were ever there. The streams, the streams, the enduring streams That ever shall remain, To gladden the earth with their song of mirth And rejoice the verdant plain. Men come and go, but they ever flow Undimm'd by circling years, While we look back on their flowery track Oft through the mist of tears. Then sing the streams, the enduring streams, More priceless far than gold, That ever sweep through the valleys deep, Bearing blessings to all untold. HOLYROOD. 47 HOLYEOOD. THE morning mist on Arthur's Seat Was folding up its garments grey, And o'er Edina's towers of state The sun in golden streams did stray ; As in the palace Holyrood Alone, in silent awe, I stood. Here Scotland's chivalry, of fame, Crown'd and uncrown'd, have stood, like me, And Queen Victoria bless her name ! Has sat beneath its old rooftree : Long may her sons and daughters fair Their royal rule o'er Scotia bear. HOLYEOOD. The tapestries upon the wall Are tatter'd, worn dim by Time ; What stirring mem'ries they recall Of hatred, envy, love, and crime ! Here saints have prayed, and captives sighed, And kings were born, and liv'd, and died. The Eoyal portraits seemed to look Down on me kind, defiant, brave ; Some as they ill control could brook, And others courteous, mild, and grave ; But one fair face among them all My ardent fancy did enthrall. It led me captive, back through years, To Gallic bowers, of love and song ; And then it changed to sighs and tears, And suffered infamy and wrong, Then pass'd in blood-stain'd clouds away Sic transit gloria, write I may. Ill-fated Mary ! could no power Or guardian angel come between HOLY ROOD. Thee and tlic evil-omen' d hour woddi'd Darnley, as a Queen 1 Mi-an, silly coward Eizzio Was foeman worthy such a foe 1 Fate ruled it so the die was cast That lost a kingdom and a throne ; The palace of her fathers pass'd For ever from her, and alone She lived to weep but who has not 1 O'er youthful follies ne'er forgot. We all are wise when Passion's dead, And many faults with others find ; Like sages, how we shake the head, And say the world is surely blind, For in our youth ah, well-a-day ! I never went but right astray. This is the place to moralize On human greatness and its end ; I look'd into their stedfast eyes, And tried aside the past to rend : 50 HOLYROOD. Queen Mary's husband Darnley I scann'd him over many a way. I look'd at her and then at him, But no affinity was there ; His face is senseless, dull, and dim, Her's like a seraph's joyous, fair : Rare beauty, what a fatal dower It proves to many to this hour ! It lost a world, some one says, The tear in Cleopatra's eye. Most women have such curious ways, That reason's rules they quite defy. Of this, I'm sure, Queen Mary's face "Would have wrought mischief any place ! And then the bauble called a crown, When added to her other charms, Made chieftains plot, scheme, fight, and frown, And keep the country in alarums. Had Mary been as plain as Bess, Her nobles would have quarrell'd less : HOLYROOD. 5 1 Though, by the bye, the Tudor dame Cost half-a-dozen heads or so ; Proud Essex tried to fan the flame Into a matrimonial glow, But lost his labour and his head The icy virgin would not wed. Poor Mary's heart was form'd to love Mirth, music, sentiment, and song ; Her cultur'd mind was far above The ghostly guides and courtly throng That flutter ever round a throne Till sets its sun, and then they're flown. If youthful follies were her crimes, Her heartless, long captivity Would have atoned for many times "Without the last barbarity : The tragic scene at Fotheringay Is execrated to this day. I sadly left Queen Mary's rooms, And sought the mined church below ; 52 HOLYROOD. And as I wander'd through, the tombs, Methought I heard her wail of woe O'er blighted hopes and friends untrue, Till Holyrood was lost to view. CAMREGGAN BURN. 53 :N T BUKK SING sweetly, Camreggan, a song of the past, Hiv life, with the Autumn of years, was o'ercast, When among the broom bushes ye lull'd me to sleep, With thy wild mountain music, enchanting and deep. The grand airy castles I reared by thy stream, Through years yet they haunt me in many a dream ; Their gateways were golden their pathways were fame, But, alas ! they were fleeting, and went as they came. Sing sweetly, Camreggan, of comrades once dear, Who broke thy deep silence with many a cheer, As they joyously bounded o'er rock, scaur, and linn, Till Killoup's drowsy echoes were woke by their din. But the brown, heathy Braehill they'll ne'er tread again, Or gaze on Killochan, the pride of the plain ; Ungather'd the wild flowers by Girvan may grow, For between them and Girvan the ocean does flow. 54 CAMREGGAN BURN. Sing slowly, Camreggan, the requiem of those Who sleep where the citron of India blows ; Afar from the spot that they lov'd first and best, 'Midst a halo of glory for ever they rest ; And I am left lonely their death-dirge to hymn, Beside thy old castle and loud-roaring linn, Where the feathery-fring'd fern bends low o'er the wave, As if they lamented, like me, for the brave. Though lonely thy braes, yet, Camreggan, ye sing The glories of Summer the beauties of Spring ; The fierce storms of Winter ye proudly defy, And to Autumn ye thunder " my waters ne'er die." The seasons sweep o'er thee undimm'd is thy face Years seem but to quicken thy fleet mountain race ; Past ages have swept o'er thy waves like a dream, And left thee as lovely as ever, fair stream. SONG OF THE UNEMPLOYED. 55 SOXG OF THE UNEMPLOYED. JUNE'S coine wi' bright blossoms to beautify earth, And scatter their perfume around cot an' ha' ; To chase gloomy shadows wi' music an' mirth, Frae ravine an' mountain, frae streamlet an' shaw. There's joy in the wild wood, why not in the cot? Sure Heaven sends plenty to gladden us a'; The wee chirping sparrow by it's no forgot The lily wi' grandeur a monarch micht chaw. If earth were unfruitful we ne'er wad repine; But when it's sae bounteous we look for a share; If we shake the vintage we should pree the wine : Change places wi' us, an' ye'll think it's but fair. 56 SONG OP THE UNEMPLOYED. We sow do we gather? we weave do we wear? We forge, build, an' launch stately ships on the main; Yet noo we're left standing like doited King Lear, When forced by ingratitude, base, frae his hame. Like Pharaoh's lean cattle, greed prowls o'er the earth, Aye feeding the monster on sinew and brain : He enters the hovel, sits doon on the hearth, An' tugs at the heart-strings o' woman an' wean. We ask not, proud masters, your riches untold, But bread for our children wi' tears do we crave ; Oh ! dinna pass by^like the Levite of old, An' leave us to perish in misery's wave. When danger menaces ye cling to us then; Ere lang ye may need us, my certes, tak' heed, An' dinna look doon wi' disdain on the men Wad peril their lives when their country's in need. What's gi'en to the needy is lent to the Lord, His bank never fails, an' His dividend's fair ; Believe in His promise, accept o' His word, An' open your hearts an' your hands to the puir. SPRING. T>7 SPRING. ON- mossy banks the primrose flings Its perfume to the breeze; And bomiie birdies blythely sing Amongst the budding trees. The lambkins frisk on heathy hills - The bairns around the door; And gladsome sing the bounding rills, "The reign o' Winter's o'er!" The laverock greets the early morn "Wi' ecstacy and praise; The mavis frae the blooming thorn Trills out its love-sick lays. In rocky glens deep Echo's voice LVpeats the amorous strain; And Dryads through the woods rejoin- That Spring's returned again. SPEIXG. The streamlet tae the ocean glides Amidst the joyous thrang; While fairies wander wi' their brides Its leafy shades amang. The modest violets blushing view Their faces in the stream, Wi' pearly dewdrops on their bro', Like amethysts they gleam. While music reigns in ilka bower, And beauty strews the plain. While Nature on the earth doth shower Her bounteous gifts again How fares it wi' the eident swarm Amidst the factory's din, Shut out from every soothing charm Of mountain, stream, and linn ? Here traders ruthlessly drive o'er The youthful and the old, An' still insanely sigh for more To add to wealth untold. SPRING. An' still impiously they cry For liberty to all ; And yet Jehovah's laws defy, And brethren, poor, enthrall. Seek not for mercy 'midst the strife 0' competition's ring, "WTiaur gold sits arbiter o' life, An' reigns the city's king ; Whaur still ascends the waefu' cry 0' Labour's sons for bread, "While Mammon's minions pass them by, And wish the beggars dead. Oh ! could I, like the birdies, hie Awa' tae some sweet stream, Afar frae every tear and sigh Wrung forth by greed and steam, I'd let them wi' their vapour 's iiar ^ Faeries round tlie door, AVi' hands begrimmed wi' human gore, But Peace sits smiling on the shore ( )' patriotic Scotland. Come weal or -\vae, whate'er betide, I'll stand or fa' wi' Scotland; Of youth the joy of age the pride My heart's bound up wi' Scotland. \Vliaur sunbeams linger in the AVest, Ik-side the friends that loved me best, Hie me a grave, and let me rest, At last in hallowed Scotland. 66 TO A EOBIX. TO A ROBIN. SWEET Bobin, thy song ushers in gloomy Winter, To blight a' the beauty o' meadow and tree, An' howl through the forest the requiem dreary 0' ilka sweet floweret that blooms on the lea. How can ye be cheery while around ye are lying The children o' Simmer in hosts on the plain ? But maybe ye're dreaming o' Springtide returning, An' snatching frae Winter their charms back again. ( )r are those wild wood-notes your mode o' lamenting O'er Summer departed to land ever green; Your song sounds o' sadness far mair than o' gladness Your voice frae the housetop brings tears to my een. TO A ROBIN. 07 It tells that the forest is leafless and eerie; It tells that ye're houseless, your offspring a' ganc ; It tells that o'er mountain, and moorland, and valley, lik-ak Boivas is marching with. Death in his train ! But come to my cabin, I'll gie ye a shelter, An' crumbs frae the table ye'll find at the door; The bairuies will welcome ye, red-breasted robin, An' tell o' your visit when men o' threescore. When Spring conies wi' garlands o' green o'er the ocean, Then hie to the forest, ye're uncaged an' fret- ; And imitate mankind, ungrateful and selfish Forget a' that friendship conferred upon WINTER. WINTER. WINTER'S winds are howling Through the valleys bare ; Robin through the wild wood Wanders in despair ; Soon he'll seek the housetop, Or the window-sill, And make man's acquaintance Sore against his will. Every brook is brawling Every flower is fled ; Every child is asking Is the bright sun dead ? Scarcely o'er the hill-tops Peers his golden eye, Dreary, dark December Makes him very shy. WINTER. 69 Buttercups and daisies Coronals of May Are they gone forever From our sight away ] Ko ! these sleeping beauties Will awake again, When Spring comes with sunshine Over hill and plain. How I love the Summer, With its fruits and flowers ! How I hate the Winter, With its sleety showers ! Frost and snow its children Sorely try the poor, As they rush unbidden Through the creaking door. \Yivtched, hungry children Shivering on the street, Frost delights to fasten On their shoeless feet ; 70 WINTER. Pinch their wasted faces Till aloud they cry " Oh, in pity help us, Christians, or we die !" Mistletoe and holly Soon will grace the hall ; And, in Christian Scotland, Christinas should recall Acts of self-denial Miracles of love, Done for us by Jesus, That we should improve ! Do not, like the Levite, Take the other side ; Help the houseless arabs Christ for them has died ! If they're weak and erring, Keep this truth in minil,- God is ever doing Good to all mankind. IX MEMORIAM : WILLIAM CLARK. 71 IX MEMOBIAM: WILLIAM CLARK DI ED 12TH FEB., 1867, AGED 26 YEAIIS. "DusT to dust" lay him gently down, He will scarcely be missed in the busy town : Kind to all, unassuming, mild, IL- passed through life like a gentle child. ( )nly the friends who knew him well Can of his many virtues tell, Of the love and faith that lit the way To the cloudless fields of eternal day. u Ashes to ashes" how strange, yet true, That he who was speaking to me and you The other day, by his father's hearth, Xow sleepeth beneath yon mound of earth. IN MEMOR1AM : WILLIAM CLARK. But as the mould in the grave fell down, To the ear of Faith came the joyous sound That Christ would come and his body raise, To sit on His throne and hymn His praise. Spring, bring not the cypress here To cast its shade over one so dear ; But come with the snow-drops, bright as day, An emblem of him who has passed away. His heart was pure as the snowy bloom That they love to shed on the youthful tomb ; Then come in beauty and gently spread Their snow-white plumes o'er his narrow bed. REST. EEST. On ! for rest, sighs the factory boy, Where the "birds are singing their songs of joy Whp.ro the stately trees their shadows cast O'er the mountain stream as it hurries past ; Where a thousand flowers in beauty spring Where a thousand birds are on the wing Where echo slumbers amidst perfume, Afar from the city's sin and gloom. Oh ! for rest, the warrior sighs, But not where the Summer never dies, But in the depth of the Highland glen Untrod by the feet of hostile men F 74 REST. Where in youth he lay on the purple heath, And dreamt of winning the victor's wreath; Of the phantom glory, honour, fame But what are they all but a breath a name ! Oh ! for rest, sighs the sailor brave, Who has long been tossed on the restless wave; Not in the land where the palm trees fling Their grateful shade o'er the desert spring; Not in the islands that gem the seas, Where perfume wantons on every breeze; But in the cot where he dreamt of yore Of the wonders and wealth of a foreign shore. Oh ! for rest, sighs the merchant proud, Afar from the din of the busy crowd; Not where they barter, buy, and sell Not where they cheat, and know it well, But in some quiet, secluded place, That would the wrinkles of care erase ; Some sweet retreat, unknown to care, But where on earth is it found ah! where? REST. 7") Oh! for rest, sighs the weary one, As she stands on the street in rags alone! (lone are character, virtue, name In the grave let her hide her shame; There,. at least, she in peace can lie, Men will not mock as they pass her by; Some one, in pity, a tear may shed < >'er her nameless, narrow bed. ( )h ! for rest, sighs the Christian old, Ir the city above, with the streets of gold Where the water of life pure as crystal flows Where the tree of life ever blooms and blows : Xo light of the sun is needed there, For the glory of God maketh all things fair ! And Christ doth wipe from each weeping eye Tin- tears of earth in His home on hijrh. 76 DEATH OF COL. BLAIR, OF BLAIRQUHAN. DEATH OF COL. BLAIE, OF BLAIKQUHAX. O'ER Inkerman's mountain the dark cloud of battle Is rolling along on its murderous way : Awake from your slumber, or death from the valley Will steal o'er your dreams ere the breaking of day. He dreams of a spot where the heather is blooming, Where Girvan bounds joyously on in its pride; While his lullaby's sung by the loud cannon booming, As fiercely they struggle up Inkerman's side. IsTow sharp and incessant the musketry rattle, The war-cloud has broken, there's death in the air " Up, Guards of my country ! we'll conquer in battle, Or die on this mountain," said brave COL. BLAIR. PKATII OF COL. BLAIR, OF BLAIRQUIIAX. i" / .\< death (piickly passed o'er the dark land of Pharoah, To teach its proud tyrant that man sliould be free ; So iocs >tivw'd the course of the conquering hero He swept through their ranks as a storm o'er the sea. lut the Thistle bends low o'er the flower of the nation ; He sleeps on the field which his valour has won ; Kvrr bright be his fame as the dawn of creation, When first the dark waters reflected the sun. ve BLAIR ! tho' thou'rt lying on Inkerman gory, Engraved on our hearts will thy mem'ry remain ; And thy name be remembered, till Time waxes hoary, As first in the battle and last on the plain. 78 LOVELY GALLOWAY. LOVELY GALLOWAY. THOUGH far from tliee, fair Garliestown, In dreams I see tliee yet ; Thy waving woods and sunlit bay I never can forget j While memory can recall the charms That Nature does display, The flowers that spring, the "birds that sing, .Around fair Galloway. Love lent his rosy hues to gild The beauty of the scene, As o'er the lawn my winsome lass Came tripping like a queen : LOVELY GALLOWAY. 79 The vesper hymn, the mavis' song, Swept sweetly o'er the bay, As on her breast, in blissful rest, I gazed on Galloway. Though fair is Carrick's classic coast, And dear the banks of Doon, Where Burns first struck love's sacred lyre, To many a deathless tune ; Yet dearer are the flowery dells, Through which I once did stray, And drank delight from beauty's eyes, By lovely Galloway. I sigh not for Arcadian bowers, Could they bestow the bliss, The hallowed, happj^, joyous hours, The love, the happiness, That I have felt thrill through my heart, When roaming by the bay, With peerless Susan at my side, By dear old Galloway ? 80 LOVELY GALLOWAY. I seek not fame, but happiness, I ask not wealth, but bliss ; Capricious Fortune, hear my prayer, Deny all else but this : Give me, if but a lowly cot, Ey Gaiiiestown's sweet bay ; let me live, and love, and die, Near lovely Galloway ! LINES ON ARRAN. LINES ON AKKAK GREAT GOATFELL! on thy mgged peaks The "bright sun loves to linger long, And fall in glorious golden streaks O'er waters famed in Celtic song. Like thee, for ever I could gaze Upon the sweet enchanting scene, And sing for aye of Arran's braes, Of purple heath and spangled green. The mountain oak, the birch, the broom, The blooming thorn, whete herds do stray, All cast afar their sweet perfume O'er Brodick's bonny sunlit bay ; Where fishermen at evening rove, Fanned by the breeze that wanders free, And view the mountains that they love, Beneath them shining in the sea. 82 LINES ON AREAN. A hundred rills like silver gleam, And, singing, run to kiss the bay, Where lovers fondly sit and dream Fair visions, bright as parting day ! While o'er them nods old Goatfell, grey, On which the fleecy clouds do rest, And all that Nature can display Is crowded in the glowing west. Great Temple of the living God ! Here are Thy works of wonder seen The rifted rock, the flowery sod, Declare Thy footsteps here have been. And though dark ages intervene Between us and Creation's dawn, This lovely, sweet, enchanting scene, Attests Thy endless love to man. AS LOVE DESCENDS. S3 AS LOVE DESCENDS. As love descends, with sovereign powers, To bless the lowly hearth As Autumn falls in golden showers Upon the groaning earth ; So learning rends the misty shroud That dims -the human mind, And falls, like sunshine through a cloud, With radiance on mankind. It gives to youth the power to scan Great Nature's endless forms ; It sinks the brute, exalts the man, Unnumbered are its charms. It leads to Wisdom's sacred fane, Unfolds the book of love ; It makes the path of duty plain, That leads to realms above. 84 AS LOVE DESCENDS. The man is poor, however rich Or high his pedigree, That poesy cannot bewitch, And deeds of chivalry. And rich the man, however poor, Can sit and talk with kings, When Winter rudely shakes the door, And through the keyhole sings. Then onward, upward let us rise Above the dross of earth, And, like immortals, set our eyes On things of noble birth. In every man a brother see, The helpless aid, defend, And love will lead to ecstacy In worlds that never end ! THE DANISH FLOWER. THE DANISH FLOWER. SWEET, gentle Spring, pray, what do ye brint> On your wings across the sea ? Beautiful flowers and budding bowers Are the gifts I bring to tliee. Since last I was here I have roamed, oh dear ! Where the feathery palm tree springs, And lay in the shade that the citron made, In the land where the bulbul sings. But I could not come to Albion home Without a floweret rare ; So I wandered on o'er the torrid zone, Still searching everywhere. 86 THE DANISH FLOWER. But nothing I found 011 that sun-scorched ground I thought would grace a bower, So I sallied forth to the frozen north, To look for a modest flower. I touched with my wand bleak Sweden's strand, And told King Frost to go ; Then shed a tear on Denmark dear, And dissolved a winter's snow. When this was done, out came the sun To gladden the frozen north, And a modest thing that might grace a king, Like a rose came blushing forth. The lily white, and the crocus bright, And other gifts I bring ; But this princely flower, from a Danish bower, I give to your future King ! BATTLE OF INKERMAN. S7 BATTLE OF IKKEEMAN. ALAS ! for the brave who have fallen to-day, On Inkerman's rugged height : From friends and country far away, Defending Britain's right. And alas ! for their friends across the sea For soon they will hear the tale, That the flower of Scotland's chivalry On Inkerman lieth pale. I weep as I gaze on the blood-stained heath, Where around like leaves are strewn, When Autumn, with its blighting breath, Has through the forest blown, The mighty dead that, in the morn, To victory led us on, Regardless of the iron storm, And deathless laurels won. 88 BATTLE OF 1NKERMAN. I see brave Blair stretch' d on the field, His Guardsmen by his side ; They did their best their chief to shield, And, fighting, nobly died. I see his sire, with silvery hair, Afar, as in a dream, Sit weeping for the pride of Ayr, By Girvan's mountain stream. He leaves the stream and seeks the hall, For restless still is woe, But each object doth his son recall, Oh ! whither can he go ? To his grave with grief, like thousands more, Whose sons are lying here, Afar from Scotland's heathy shore, With the stars to light their bier, And the turf beneath them for a bed. Beside them low we bow, And weep and gaze on the honour'd dead, With the night-dews on their brow. A WELCOME TO GARIBALDI. 89 A WELCOME TO GARIBALDI THE greatest Eoman's here to-day That ever trode our sea-girt Isle, Though Rome's proud annals can display ,V thousand names upon her file ; Yet Garibaldi sits alone, An uncrown' d King on Freedom's throne. True symbol of unselfish love, Without historic pedigree, His mission still has been to prove To Europe Truth's supremacy, And let earth's greatest despots know Misrule, at last, will lay them low. A WELCOME TO GAEIBALDI. Like Cincinnatus, at the plough, His country found him in her need, "Without a thought hut when and how He might uproot the Bourbon weed, That, like the deadly Upas tree, Had blighted lovely Italy. With patriot power he did diffuse ISTew life throughout the nation's heart ; Base Bomba trembled to refuse When Garibaldi said, " Depart," And Naples saw, with joy elate, The tyrant's palace desolate. Then rose from earth to heaven the cry Of liberty suppressed so long ; Then Freedom's banner Avaved on high O'er dungeons dismal, dark, and strong, Where patriots in despair had lain Till Garibaldi broke their chain. He led them forth from death and gloom Into the glorious light of day, A WELCOME TO GARIBALDI. 91 Tn breathe the citron's rich perfume, To wander by the sunlit bay Oh ! none can tell what joy they felt, But those that have in bondage dwelt. For this, thrice welcome art thou here, To Scotland's homes, to Scotland's heart : Our sires bought Freedom far too dear For us to value not the part You played for mankind's rights, as well As Hampden, Wallace, Bruce, or Tell. Free Albion would deny the son That did not welcome here to-day The Chief who at Volturno won A fame that time shall ne'er decay ; Whose name will be the patriot's cry Till wars will cease, and despots die. 02 AUTUMN. AUTUMN. SWEET is the sang o' the lark in Spring's morning, When dewdrops and gowans bespangle the lea ; Rich are the blossoms the hedgerows adorning, When Simmer is beaming on hill, heath, and tree. But dearer is Autumn that crowns earth wi' plenty, And robs for our comfort strath, garden, and plain ; Xae fears o' the future he brings to torment ye, But shows ye your losses as weel as your gain. In Spring time Jock's sighing, " I wish I was single," When sowing the corn amidst wind and rain ; In Autumn contented he sits by the ingle, And lilts a sweet sang to his guidwife and wean. Though flowers are faded and koen winds are blowing, And Winter approaching wi' storm in its train, It may blaw its warstj for his cattle are lowing " Kind Autumn has theekit our fodder again." !-.MX. 9 In Simmer lie's watching the glass and the weather ; And Tain to herd Crummie frae schule's kept at harae; t at the corn she would break the best tether, Pair collie wi' keeping her frae it's quite lame. \ iitnnin comes billing, denouncing restrictions, And bye ways like highways re-opens again; Syne proves to the farmer his fears were but fictions, Invented by Satan to puzzle the brain. seed-time and harvest are promised for ever, By earth's Great Creator, who cannot deceive ; Towards us his love ever flows like a river, Although we're ungrateful, and whiles disbel; Spring, Summer, Autumn, he sends with their treasure, And Winter, that oft brings the poor to the door, Oh! pity, soothe, succour, relieve them with pleasure, Ye lend to the Lord what you give to the poor. 94 THE LILIES OF THE FIELD. THE LILIES OF THE FIELD. BEHOLD the lilies of the field, How passing beautiful they grow ! How rich the vestments bright they wear, And yet they neither spin nor sow. King Solomon, in all his pride, Was not arrayed like one of these Sweet modest flowers that gem the earth, And scatter fragrance on the breeze ! If God so clothe the flowers we tread, Which bloom at noon and fade at night, Whose beauty's like the snow-flake, seen But for a moment, dazzling white, Then lost for ever to the view, The moment that it touches earth Man, cares he not far more for you, The destined heir of heaven by birth ? THE LILIES OF THE FIELD, The fowls that wing the pathless air, With plumage shining like the sun, They have no barns, and yet they feast At God's great table, every one. But man misdoubts th' Almighty's love, Sees in to-morrow only care, While everything beneath, above, A more than Father's love declare. Live for to-day the present's thine To-morrow who can call his own 1 What's needful to thy happiness Is to thy heavenly Father known. From earth your faithless faces raise, In confidence to him above, And see descending on your race His everlasting stores of love ! 96 SONG OP THE COMING YEAR, SONG OF THE COMING YEAR. SIXTY-FOUR is nearly gone, To the ages fled before ; . Sixty-five, with joyous tone, Singeth loudly at the door " Let the hoary dotard go In his winding-sheet of snow. " Elowers are sleeping in the earth, Birds are silent, trees are bare ; Dark December loves not mirth, Music drives him to despair. Therefore let the cynic go, Since he's so intent on woe. " I will bring you from the north Days for curling, keen and cold ; Call the modest snowdrops forth, Crocuses with hues of gold, SONG OF THE COMING YEAR. Dust of March in bushels bring, And in April sweetly sing. " I will come in joyous May, And repair your sylvan bowers, Weave a carpet, bright as day, With a thousand wild wood flowers And in June, with roses red, Wreathe a garland for your head. " In July, by mountain streams I will lull you o'er to sleep, Visit you with happy dreams, Where the shade is cool and deep ; And to every hill and plain August send with fruits and grain. "I'll enrich the bleakest hills With my bright September days ; Hang red rowans o'er the rills, As they wander on their ways ; Dye the heath a deeper red, For the shepherd's mountain bed. 98 SONG OF THE COMING YEAR. " Brown October comes at last, All my brilliant leaves to sere ; Chill November's bitter blast Reaps the glories of the year ; Dark December's short-liv'd day Drives me to the past away. " Use the blessings that I bring From the courts of endless love ; I am ever on the wing, Every passing hour improve ' Grasp my moments as they fly, For, like me, you're born to die." li A BIRTH-DAY SONG. A BIRTH-DAY SOXG. DECEMBER'S winds through leafless trees The dirge o' Simmer's singing, But aye there's flowers that mankind please, Still here and there upspringing. A winsome lass, a bonny boy, Are gifts that mak' us cheerie j Lord Eglinton I wish him joy lias gotten hame a dearie. His Lady's name, his Lordship's fame, Are dear to a' the nation ; \yrshire proudly welcomes hame This gem o' noble station. May Providence aye shield her head Frae every ill and danger ; By mair than me the prayer is said, " God bless the little stranger !" 100 A BIRTH-DAY SONG. Oh ! may her path be strewed wi' flowers, Without a thorn amang them ; For giddy youth in pleasure's bowers Oft meet those that wad wrang them. Lang may her smile licht up the ha', Dispelling ocht like sadness ; Lang may her voice ring through the shaw, Like Simmer's notes o' gladness. When age o'ertakes her honour'd sire, May she be near to tend him ; Anticipating each desire, Frae every ill defend him. And, lastly, may she win the prize Mair precious far than beauty A crown unfading in the skies, Bestowed for filial duty. THANKS FOR THE LIFEBOAT. 101 THANKS FOR THE LIFEBOAT. THANKS, kind thanks for the lifeboat strong ! Tho' the gift demands a nobler song Than, ever I sung ; but at least I can 1 'ray for a blessing upon the man Who gave, unasked, from his private store, Such a gift of love to his native shore. To aid the suffering is holier far Tlnn to spread o'er a land the woes of war ; T>i .-tier to scatter around us joy ncl like i ! of death to destroy, And defile with blood the beauteous earth, Leave woe in our trail instead of mirth ; vatli to a land happy, rich, and fair, The terrible legacy, death, despair. But the " Earl of Carrick" com.es to our bay With a promise of help on a future day ; 102 THANKS FOR THE LIFEBOAT. When the hurricane sweeps along the shore, And storm-clouds nestle on Ailsa hoar, And the fisherman, through the blinding spray, A wreck descrys in the stormy bay. Then God-speed the lifeboat and all her crew, As they dash along like the wild sea-mew, Through the raging surf to the sailor lone, Who clings to a spar when his ship is gone ; While around him hisses the yawning wave, Eager to give him " an ocean grave." We pray not for tempests to test her powers, But are truly thankful the means are ours To rescue the helpless, and rob the wave Of the prey it threatens the sailor brave ; And bring home in triumph the gift of life To the helpless child and the weeping wife. The sun will grow dim and pass away ; The earth like a garment fade, decay ; But such deeds will outlive the glitt'ring stars, The honour and fame that are won by wars ; Will circle with glory the giver's head, When earth and sea are for ever fled. ANNIE'S HEAVEN AN' MAIR TO ME. 1()3 AXXIE'S HEAVEN A]S T ' MAIR TO ME. OH ! to wander wi' my Annie, "When the sun lias kiss'd tlie west, Laid him down in golden glory On the ocean's azure breast ; When the moon, in queenly beauty, Sheds her radiance o'er the sea, Wi' my Annie then beside me, Earth seems Heaven an' mair to me ! As she murmurs how she lo'es me, As I pree her rosy mou, ~\Vi' my head upon her bosom, That's sae loving, kind, an' true ; As I see the Cupids peeping, Half asleep, frae ilka e'e, Then I rave, like ane demented, Annie's Heaven an' mair to me ! 104 ANNIE'S HEAVEN AN' MAIR TO LIE. Not the painter, wi' his pencil, Could create a form sae fair ; Not the fairest flower o' Simmer Wi' my Annie can compare ; Not the sweetest bird that warbles Love-notes frae the leafy tree, Is sae rich an' sae bewitching As my Annie's voice to me ! When she speaks I seem to listen To the music o' the spheres ; When she smiles she sadness chaseth To the land o' sighs an' tears. Take, capricious fortune, frae me Bank an' riches, pedigree, But in pity leave nie Annie, For she's mair than life to me ! GREENAN CASTLE. 105 GREEXAX CASTLE. A SERMON FROM STONES. THE God of Day cools his burnished brow In the Western waters far away ; Si i, as he is making his parting how, I'll sit me down by old Greenan grey, While the bats and swallows in circles fly Round its tottering gables grim and high. A milkmaid's song went over the bay, Witli a tone that bestoke a heart at e The Western breeze up the Boon did stray, To sport among the verdant trees ; The queen of night, from the azure sky, Look'd down on the sea with a friendly eye. 106 GREENAN CASTLE. I thought, as I sat, upon death arid life, And how men struggle to win a name ; Of the murder and rapiiio, war and strife Created, acquiring warlike fame When a voice from old Greeiiaii hoarsely said, " Men did the same in the ages fled : " Here chiefs assembled, and wine flowed free, Till iuy rafters rung with their savage mirth ; When forth they sallied, by land and sea, Making desolate many a happy hearth ; ^ In this intelligent, trading day. " You read your Bibles, but quite forget That, fraud and injustice are twins of hell ; You go to church, seldom gamble or bet, And the way to heaven can glibly tell : The panther treads soft, and his look is fair, But ho's more to be feared than the grizzly bear. " If you gain the world and lose your soul, You may count the profit ; how great the loss 1 GREENAN CASTLE. 107 you generally live, upon the whole, As you didn't care a single toss About futurity, heaven, or hell ; If you're making money you're doing well. " That time ever flies is ever forgot, Till you trembling stand on the voiceless shore, Then, despairing, you cry for Salvation's boat, The waveless sea to carry you o'er ; You disappear, and all is still, And your friends find your god in a musty till. " IVe seen in my day a butterfly's ball, And midges dance on a Summer's eve ; You're not as ephemeral, but that is all The mighty difference I can perceive liet ween the insect of a day And the man who barters his soul away. " Oh ! would you practise what Christ did preach, How blest would be the beautiful earth ! His spirit would come and the nations teach, And all would know of the second birth ; 108 GREEN AN CASTLE. And the angel Peace chain the demon War In some dread abyss from the earth afar." The wind came soughing across the bay, And drown' d the voice, so I heard no more ; But as I returned upon the way I pondered its sermon o'er and o'er, And I thought, though cynical, old, and grey, There is wisdom in what the old walls say. IN MEMORIAM. 10!) IX MEMOEIAM. ;'->!ly ('APT. BLAKEXEY, of the ship "John .." wliich foundered in Morant Bay on January 8, Tin-: y*';ir is young, Imt sad the list and long Of lumu's made d- thec, Sea! How many in thy waters sleep unsung, Who sixty-seven hailed with hearty <^lee, A< homeward swift they bounded joyously. .date Sea! why rob us of the brave, And spare the coward trembling on through \ llo\v wicrdly wild the requiem ye do ] < )f th'ise whose heroism claim our 1 And BLAKENEY'S name in thy sad list apy 110 IN MEMORIAM. " The storm," he said, " sweeps fiercely o'er the sea., The Lizard Point we cannot round to-night ; The treacherous shore is close upon our lee, Like winding-sheets I soe the breakers white : Let's drop the anchor till to-morrow's light." The anchor's dropp'd, but onward still she bounds, Like an impatient courser, through the gloom : More near, more clear, more fearful grow the sounds Of breakers roaring, as she nears her doom "Prepare, brave BLAKENEY, for a watery tomb!" Like Martin, of the "London," firm he stood, And waved the signal light, for aid, on high; He saw the lifeboat breast the seething flood ; He saw his crew depart, but scorn'd to fly, Preferring rather at his post to die. Young, fearless even to a fault, and brave, He knew his duty and performed it well- Too well, alas ! or else the seething wave Would ne'er have borne him lifeless on its swell, And left friends weeping as his fate they tell. IN MEMORIAL. Ill 1 lad noble daring saved him from the wave, He might have fearless braved the fiercest gale ; His was the intrepidity which often saves A ship and crew where good men even fail, And for a moment hesitate and quail. Peace to his ashes, by the sounding sea ; Peace to his spirit, in the haven of love; Peace to the friends that sorrow's cup must dree ; Peace give them, Father, till they meet above, And o'er its blissful plains for ever rove. 112 BROUXSTONE CASTLE. BKOUNSTONE CASTLE. OH, to stray by Brounstone Castle, "When the shades of evening fall ! When the moonbeams glide in glory Through the baron's ancient hall. Oh, to hear the Girvan singing, As it sung langsyne to me ! "When beside mo sat my Annie Underneath the trysting tree. Ask the winds that ever wander Through the ruined starlit hall; Ask the flowers that bloom in beauty By the hoary, ivied wall Did they e'er behold a lady Tread the hall, on festive night, With a step as light as Annie's, With an eye so black and bright ? BROUNSTOXE CASTLE. 113 All the bloom that heralds Summer With her face can ne'er compare ; All the plumage of the raven Is outrivall' d "by her hair. Like the snowdrop, pure and spotless, Nodding in the sunbeams bright, Is her brow and, oh ! her bosom .Makes me dizzy with delight. (lone are minstrel, knight, and lady, From the Castle and its bowers, lUit around my heart will ever Linger iiK'm'ries of the hours That I spent with peerless Annie, By the Girvan's mountain stream : Time will never dim the beauty ( )f that happy, short-lived dream. 114 CRUGGLETON CASTLE. CBUGGLETON CASTLE. A REMINISCENCE. CRUGGLETON, "beneath thy archway, Leaning o'er the restless sea, Have I sat beside a maiden Fairer, dearer far to me Than the azure of the ocean, Than the fragrant clover lea, Than ambition, fame, or glory, Or ancestral pedigree ! Cruggleton, beneath thy archway I may never rest again ; But in nightly dreams I see thee Eending o'er the heaving main, With that peerless maid beside thee, Shedding beauty o'er decay, Chasing shadows from thy ruins With her smile, as bright as day. CRUGQLETON CASTLE. 115 Cruggleton, the flowers of Summer Wreath, thy tempest-beaten head, But the one that crowned thy beauty Is for ever from thee fled ! Idly they may bloom and wither On thy summit, old and grey, Since the fairy form has vanished That transformed thy gloom to day ! Cruggleton, the storms of Winter Some wild night may lay thee low, Hurl thy lone and hoary archway To the dread abyss below; But eternity will never That fair maiden's form efface All the love and all the beauty Beaming from her sunny face ! 116 ARDROSSAN CASTLE. AEDKOSSAN" CASTLE. KICHARDUS DB BERCLAY, though great was thy Castle Though, great was thy prowess and wide-spread thy fame, Thou'rt now as unknown as thy henchman or vassal That sleeps by thy side in the grave's dark domain. From turret to donjon its ruins are lying ; The voices are silent that gladdened the hall ; The winds thro' the rents made by Time now are sighing, And ivy is feasting upon the grey wall. No more from the towers the banners are streaming, O'er chiefs going forth to the hunt or foray ; No more in its bowers fair ladies are dreaming Of knights winning glory on fields far away. ARDROSSAN CASTLE. 117 The stars light the chambers where minstrels have chanted The deeds done in battle our country to free ; I Jut now they are desolate, roofless, and haunted, wandering winds from the western sea. They roam through the rooms, and for ever they're sighing, ( >Vr beauty departed and valour that's gone ; For low in the dust knight and lady are lying, And ruin sits gnawing the Castle alone. Destroying, restoring, and changing for ever, Time raised up Ardrossan to beautify Clyde Oh! may its sweet villas in ruins lie never, - But still look as fair as its guardian tide. 118 LINES ON THE MAKRIAGE OF A DEAR FRIEND. LINES ON THE MARRIAGE OF A DEAR FRIEJSD. COULD I, like Summer, on the earth, Strew flowers upon your youthful way, Or weave a rosy blooming bower Where sunbeams linger all the day, For her and thee I'd make a home In some sweet flowery solitude, Where love would dwell amidst perfume, And carking care would ne'er intrude. But this I can do wish to her And thee content, peace, joy, and health; The first is more than pedigree, The rest are never bound to wealth ; Or if they had, your servant's share Of worldly comfort would be small ; But Heaven's impartial in its ways, And showers its blessings down on all. LINES ON THE MARRIAGE OF A DEAR FRIEND. 119 Clod "bless your union! may your lives Run sweetly as a flowery stream, Until you reach the waveless sea Where ends the glory of life's dream. Then may Christ at the narrow gate Receive you in His gracious arms, And take you forth to nightless fields, Begemin'd with Heaven's eternal charms. 120 THE HARVEST MOON IS STREAMING, LOVE. THE HAKVEST MOON IS STREAMING, LOVE. THE harvest moon is streaming, love, Like silver o'er the sea ; The radiant stars are beaming, love, Upon the dewy lea : Then meet me by De Berclay's tower, Upon the Castle Hill, And we will drink, if but an hour, Of love, as from a rill. The azure waves are singing, love, Their music to the moon ; The fragrant flowers are flinging, love, Their perfume to the tune ; The bats are at their evening ball Among the ruins grey : Then meet me by the ivied wall, And hear what love can say. THE HARVEST MOON IS STREAMING, LOVK. 121 A loving heart's my tocher, -love, And that is truly thine : I'd give the gold of Ophir, love, To say that yours was mine ; To fold you in my arms to-night, So beautiful and still, Among the pearly dewdrops bright, Upon the Castle Hill. My heart is weary waiting, love, For wealth that ne'er will come ; The birds when they are mating, love, Take love to bless their home. Then meet me on the Castle Hill, Among the ruins grey, And drops of nectar we'll distil, To drink some future day. 122 LINES ON THE DEATH OF A YOUNG LADY. LINES ON THE DEATH OF A YOUNG LADY. GONE home ! and left a world of care, To lands of sweet, , seraphic bliss : The flower we lov'd was far too fair To blossom in a spot like this ; "Where death, disease, and sorrow fling Their shadow o'er the fairest thing. Gone home ! and left us mourners here To scatter flowers upon her grave ; And through the mist of many a tear Behold the form to earth we gave For memory and affection still Recall the truly lov'd at will. LINES ON THE DEATH OF A YOUNG LADY. 1 '23 ( lone home to Jesus! and the host AVlio sing the glories of his grace ; Safe landed on bright Canaan's coast, "With Abraham's angelic race, Through coming ages evermore To worship, praise, and Christ adore. Gone home to heaven ! we'll grieve no more, But imitate her virtues rare ; And meet her on the happy shore, Where all is blissful, endless, fair And every tear is wiped away, That dims the mourner's eye to-day. 124 THE BONNY STEEAMS o' AYRSHIRE. THE BOKNTY STREAMS 0' AYRSHIRE. THE bonny Streams o' Ayrshire, As on their course they run, Like siller belts around the hills They sparkle in the sun. And Simmer spreads the fairest flowers Upon their classic braes, "Whaur linger still the echoes sweet 0' Burns's deathless lays. The beauties o' the Doon and Ayr Are sung in mony a land, Whaur music floats through myrtle bowers, Ear frae famed Carrick's strand ; But Girvan hides its unsung worth Amongst its leafy shaws, And jinks an' jouks by broomy knowes, And ancient lordly ha's. THE BOXNY STREAMS O' AYRSHIRE. 1 '2~> There let me stray an hour or sae Upon its braes, and dream, Whaur fair Killochan's stately trees Are mirrored in the stream. Oh, haunts o' youth ! oh, hame o' love ! Yet through the mist o' years They rush unbidden on my sicht, An' blin' my e'en wi' tears. The world has only left me this The memory o' the past ; It canna take what Time has spared Unclouded to the last. The fairy stream, the flowery dells, Dear, though unkent to fame The hallowed haunts, for ever fair, Around my youthfu' name. 126 BEAUTIFUL MAY. BEAUTIFUL MAY. YOCAL as ever with music and mirth, May has returned to beautify earth : Joyously tripping o'er moorland and green, Scattering gifts like a "bountiful queen Breathing her fragrance through wildwood and dell, Shedding rich sunshine on mountain and fell; How the green hedgerows their rich robes display, Fresh from the fingers of beautiful May. Shaking the bright dews of earth from his wings, The lav'rock with ecstacy heavenward springs ; Over the streamlet the swallow does skim, Trying to twitter, like others, a hymn. Humming and working, the bees are abroad, Where the bright blossoms in myriads nod ; Meadows appear like the sky's milky way, Garnished with gowans by beautiful May. BEAUTIFUL MAY. 127 Into the ravine the sun sends his beams, Drying the beds of the dark mountain streams ; Making the waters that none dared to ford, Shallow and bright as a silvery cord. ( >vcr the crag now the wild flowers creep, Where lately the dark troubled waters did sweep ; Lowly the cataract now seems to say " Thrice are ye welcome back, beautiful May ! " Come from the city and share the soft breeze, Sighing and dying among the green trees ; Sweet is the music that rings through the grove, Breathing of harmony, innocence, love. Come to the shade of the fern-fringed rock, Where the lone shepherd is tending his flock ; And sadness will ilee from your heart far away, When breathing the incense of beautiful May ! 128 DREAM OF THE LITTLE COTTON-PIECER. DREAM OF THE LITTLE COTTON-PIECER. IN dreams I strayed where wavelets played, And zephyrs wandered free ; Where the sun went down like a golden crown On the brow of the azure sea. The spirits of air were rejoicing there, On cloudlets white as snow ; With sunbeams drest far in the west, They sported to and fro. On uplands green, beside the stream, The browsing herds did stray ; From wildrose bush the happy thrush Did trill his joyous lay. O'er rocks sublime the heath and thyme Did hang in festoons gay ; While, lone, afar the evening star Peeped o'er their summits grey. DREAM OF THE LITTLE COTTON-PIECER. Here, truly lilest, I sank to rest Beside the rushing linn Far from the strife of city life, Its foppery, rags, and sin. Where the sun at noon looks like the moon, Seen through the haze of night ; Where want and woe like spectres go, The heart and home to blight. Where fierce disease feeds at his ease Upon the famished poor ; While wealth and pride superbly glide In phaetons by their door ; "Where traders meet to goad and cheat Such wretched things as I, Who but in dreams can stray by streams Beneath the Summer sky. While they can stray o'er landscapes gay, AVI ic re I would gladly roam, They say the breeze from Western seas Might save me from the tomb. 130 SONG OF THE LITTLE COTTON-PIECER. How long, God ! shall wealth, roughshod, Eide over children dear? And see them sigh, pine, sicken, die But vengeance may be near. God's chosen band in Egypt's land Did long in bondage groan ; He made the waves rescue the slaves, Triumphant and alone. PEACE, COLUMBIA ! 131 PEACE, COLUMBIA]! STERN Confederates and Federals Do forego your savage strife; Listen to the voice of Mercy, Crying, " Spare a brother's life ! " See your halls and huts deserted, See your fair fields drench'd with gore ; See your wives and mothers weeping ; Ground your muskets fight no more. War's a game that leads to ruin ; War's unholy, therefore pause ; If the South have erred, forgive them ; That's the way to gain applause. 132 PEACE, COLUMBIA! Sweeter far the voice of conscience Whispering ye have acted right, Than the proudest trophy wrested From an enemy in fight. Can ye, in the name of Freedom, Seek a "brother to enthral 1 If ye could, would, did enslave him, That's not liberty at all. Liberty's unsullied banner May be lost, but never won,' By the acts of foul aggression Which insensate men have done. Can ye subjugate a nation That's determined to be free ? As well try, with swords and muskets, To obstruct the swelling sea. Why destroy a land of beauty With the hell-hounds bred by war ? Dabble in each other's life-stream Fair Columbia's glittering star? PEACE, COLUMBIA ! !')> Listen now to sober reason, Heading thus with earnest voice " Yankees, cease this wicked warfare, Let the nation's heart rejoice ! " See Columbia's mothers kneeling I \ v their offsprings' gory biers ; Listen now to Mercy pleading Ground your muskets, dry those tears ! 134 THE EMIGRANT'S FAREWELL. THE EMIGKANT'S FABEWELL. FAREWELL to the Binehill and Saughhill for ever, Sweet valley of Girvan, for ever adieu ! While memory remains will I doat on thy river. Where oft I hae wandered wi' friends kind and true. A hanie and kind friends I may find o'er the ocean, And want and its woes keep afar frae my door ; But still to the West will I turn with devotion, And sigh for the beauties of fair Carrick's shore. Penkill and Pinwhauple, Killochan, Old Dailly Oh, dear are their deep glens and wildwoods to me ! When I gaze on their grandeur my heart's like to fail me; 'Tis want drives me from them across the deep sea. Oh, blest is the fleet roe can bound thro' the greenwood Oh, happy the laverock can dwell on the lea, Beside thee, Killochan, loved haunt of my boyhood, And hame of my heart when I'm far o'er the sea. THE EMIGRANT'S FAREWELL. 13 The roses of June round the woodbine are twining, And nodding in beauty above Girvan's stream ; The last beams of day on its waters are shining, Ere they fade from my sight like a beautiful dream. Tin. 1 brow of the Saughhill is gilded wi' glory j But ere the sun gladdens its grey peaks again, And looks on lone Ailsa, majestic and hoary, I will be afar frae my kindred and hame. .136 SONG OF THE CARRICK FISHERMAN. SONG OE THE CARKICK EISHEBMAN, MY boat rocks in the Maiden's bay, And frae my cottage door I see the wavelets gently play Upon the sunlit shore. Culzean's grey towers, wi' lordly pride, Cast shadows o'er the sea, O'er which my bonny bark doth ride Wi' bounding, reckless glee. Though dear to me are Carrick's hills, Its flowery nooks and dells, Sweet verdant slopes an' silver rills, An' blooming heather bells ; Yet dearer are the azure waves, The guardians o' my hame ; The wind in freedom o'er them raves, Sports with their snowy mane. SONG OF THE CARRICK FISHERMAN. 137 AY hen morning wi' its rosy blusli Sweeps darkness frae the sky, We o'er tlu> waters gladly rush, My bonny boat and I. And when day sinks upon their breast, Wo steer for Carrick's shore ; The golden stream flung frae the West, Lichts, leads us tae the door. The ha' of Bruce in ruin lies The ocean's still the same ; It wears a youth that Time defies, And leads to wealth and fame. On it Britannia's sun arose, And ever seems to smile Upon the daring sons of those Who conquered at the Nile. 138 THE SABBATH. THE SABBATH. HAIL ! peaceful, holy day of rest ! Unto the weary doubly blest ; Could I, like Graham, thy glories sing, And all the blessings thou dost bring, For ever would I chant thy praise In his endearing, deathless lays. Blest day ! to man in mercy given By ever kind, indulgent Heaven, To lift us far above the care That here besets us every where, To lands where grace and glory flow, And joy supplants the place of woe. Thrice hallowed day, with peace it comes, To cheer the highest, lowest homes ; To shut out darkness, let in light, Point out the wrong and show the right, THE SABBATH. 1 3!) From the Eternal Word of Truth The stay of age, the guide of youth. Xone dare command us on that day To work I'm wrong, forgive me pray Some do command, should we obey, And desecrate the sacred day ? If gold's their god, then let them kneel And turn that day his glittering wheel. When God had called this lovely earth From darkness, chaos wondrous "birth ! Through space the planets made to roll, And given man a deathless soul, lie rested on the seventh day, Lut hear what some to that do say : " Sir, I'm a Christian, not a Jew, Know right and wrong as well as you; Our quaint forefathers knew no better Than follow Scripture to the letter, But I know something more than heed Their Jewish jargon, canting creed. 1 40 THE SABBATH, "On Sunday, Sir, I take the air, By rail or boat no matter where And listen to the babbling brooks ; Seek out the cool, sequestered nooks, Where ferns fringe the roaring linn, Afar from city life and sin. " Friend citizen, you're free to go Where streamlets murmur, flowers grow, But when you choose to take the air, Drive ever your own coach and pair : In everything ye think or do, Act like a Christian, not a Jew." ON IIE.VRIXG A MAVIS SIXG IX GLASGOW. 141 >N 1IKAPJXG A MAVIS SIXG IX GLASGOW. SIXG on, sweet bird, your joyous notes To labour's sons proclaim, As on the breeze their music floats, That Winter's ceased to reign. That Spring has come with vernal showers, Tae busk fair Scotia's braes, An' 's thrang at wark, in sylvan bowers, Tn.- paring Simmer's claes. 'Tis rare to hear a captive sing Sae sweet and joyously, lUit sweeter far thy notes would ring Frae some auld hazel tree ; LJy wimpling burn or mountain glen, I there might join your strain, But in this crowded mart of men I try to sing in vain. 142 ON HEARING A MAVIS SING IN GLASGOW. My spirit wi' thy song is borne Wliaur uncag'd warblers dwell ; Whaur music bursts frae whin an' thorn In mony a flowery dell. By Girvan's sweet secluded stream, Around Kilkerran's ha ; When violets close their glistening e'en, In dreams I'm wi' them a'. Oh, would propitious fortune smile Upon my humble lot, I'd hie me to the green woods wild Around my native cot. There Mammon never forged the chain That fetters thee an' me : Then sing again thy cheerfu' strain, It sounds o' liberty. A FAREWELL. 113 A FAREWELL. SWEET home of my childhood bright land of the West ! Where the stars light the ocean when day goes to rest There is no spot on- earth that to me seems as fair, For the daydreams of glory were first woven there. There oft have I wander'd by Girvan's sweet stream. While Summer and sunshine enlivened the scene, And wove in my fancy those visions sublime, Which are now cast like wrecks on the ocean of Time. How saddening to think that the world's weary care Should bend its dark shade over visions so fair, And bury the beauty of youth's hopeful dream, Beneath the dark waters of life's turbid stream. The world may deceive, trusted friends turn cold, But the heart's first affections they never grow old ; Like springs in life's desert that gladden the heart, They cling to us fondly when all else depart. 144 A FAREWELL. Though my name be effaced in that bright sunny land, Erased like the footprints I left on its sand, Yet my heart fondly clings to its wave-beaten shore, And I yet love the spot where I sported of yore. Then give me a grave in the land of the West, Beside the loved parents my childhood caressed : Oh ! lay me at last near the echoing waves, Where the sun's parting glory will rest on our graves. ARDMILLAN BAY. 145 ARDMILLAN BAY. WHEN South winds howl round Ailsa's peaks, An' Arran's wreathed wi' snaw, Wlien dowie birdies cower their wings In ilka leafless shaw : When low has sunk the Wintry sun Px'hind the Bennan grey, There's shelter for the gallant bark In fair Ardmillan Bay. Majestic mountains, wild and grand, Loom o'er its azure tide ; While at their base the stately ha' Looks o'er the spreading Clyde. The fisherman, the sailor brave, Ila'e blest the friendly ray It sends, at nicht, across the waves, To cheer their pathless way. I've sported wi' the tiny waves That o'er the sand did stray, 14G ARDMILLAN BAY. When Simmer wreathed wi' tliyme tlie rocks To hide their faces grey. Frae Woodlands bank the blackbird's notes "Were wafted o'er the sea ; While o'er the bay the bonny boats Went bounding merrily. I've watched the cloudlets in the West Their brilliant hues unfold, When parting day prest Ocean's brow An' tipt his waves wi' gold. Then dreamed these might be palaces Where airy sprites did play, In gorgeous sunbeams richly drest, That floated far away. Oh ! could the weary find a spot Like this, so passing fair, Life's e'ening sun would never set Enveloped in despair ! But hope would spring within their hearts, Diffusing joyous rays ; As flowers in Summer fragrance shed Upon Ardmillan braes. CLEXDOUNE. 147 GLENDOUNE. THE Western waves .are hushed to rest On Ardwell's thyme-wreathed rocky shore ; The Seagulls seek their lofty nest Amongst the crags o' Ailsa hoar : A' Nature's hushed, unless the rill That liahhk's to the rising moon, That's peering ower the great Saughhill, rpon the lands o' fair Glendoune. An' never on a fairer scene Did Luna gaze wi' placid e'e ; '\vans sparkle on the green, The stars upon the sleeping sea. ( >h! could I sing, like hards o' yore, Auld Coila's harp I would attune, And sound aloud o'er Scotia's shore The peerless beauties o' Giendoune. GLENDOUNE. Oft lia'e I climbed its mountain steep, An' felt my heart dilate wi' pride, As ower the waves my eye did sweep To Arran's hills beyond the Clyde Whaur Ossian, frae his cloudy car, Yet to its children seems to croon, How chieftains led their clans to war, To guard sic lands as thine, Glendoune. Lang years have fled since first I prest The blooming heathbells on its brae, And watched the bright sun sink to rest Behind the peaks o' Arran grey ; But still its face, like ocean's waves, Is fresh and bright as rosy June ; An' still I dream through Ardwell's caves Resound the glories o' Glendoune. A WIXTKR STORM. 1 |! A WIXTER STOEM. WITH frigid "breath comes Winter bleak Upon his dark career, Thro' leafless woods to howl and shriek The requiem of the year. From snowy Lapland, vast and drear, He comes with icy chain, To bind the lakes and fountains clear Within his cold domain. N\v scarcely peeping o'er the hills, The sun looks on the scene ; The leaves lie dead on frozen rills, Gone is their Summer green. No more are heard the wildwood lays That hailed his rising beam ; No more he sheds his cheering rays On mountain, moor, and stream. 150 A WINTER STORM. Slow flies the home-returning crows, Confused and low their flight, As if a host of airy foes Arose upon their sight. In fitful gusts the wind doth moan And rave around the door ; God help the shepherd out alone This night upon the moor. The lonely mother hears the blast Around her cottage roar, And sees her son cling to the mast, Far from the friendly shore. The seething waves around him foam, Impatient for their prey, " If lost, then desolate is my home ! " She cries in dread dismay. charity treads the clingy strest, "Where misery's glad to hide ; Regardless of the drenching sleet, She seeks the lone "bedside. A WINTER STORM. 151 Samaritan-like, she acts her part, (lives largely of her own, And feels a joy within her heart To avarice never known. If Heaven has given wealth and power, Improve the gifts to-day, For life, alas ! is like the flower That's doomed to fade away. The leaf that falls in the mountain stream, From the autumn-stricken tree, And passeth away like a sleeper's dream, Is an emblem, Man, of thee. The Summer saw it bud and bloom Beneath its sunny eye ; The Autumn winds prepared its tomb, And Winter saw it die. 152 LINES SUGGESTED BY THE ARRIVAL OF LORD CLYDE. LINES SUGGESTED BY THE AEEIYAL <)F LOED CLYDE. WITH heartfelt joy and Scottish pride We welcome back again The noble soldier, brave Lord Clyde, Erom India's battle plain ; Adorned with laurels nobly won Erom Bramah's " Children of the Sun." In distant graves the strongest sleep Since last he trode this shore ; Brave Neill lies by the Jumna deep, And Havelock near Cawnpore ; But deathless glory crowns the band Who fought and fell for fatherland. LINES SUGGESTED BY THE ARRIVAL OF LORD CLYDE. Io3 \Titliin the nation's loving heart Their names will find a place, Xor from that vital seat depart, AYliile live the Saxon race To guard the fame, the hallow'd graves, Of those who lie beyond the waves. But Colin claims the highest meed Of British minstrel's lays, From stately Thames to silvery Tweed Let's sing the warrior's praise, Who stemmed the fierce, red, bloody tide That cruel Siva ruled with pride. Then I^ana Sahib fled before The sword ne'er drawn in vain, As many live who yet deplore Its gallant use in Spain ; And on Crimea's deadly field It fought to conquer ne'er to yield. And there he formed the "thin red line" On Balaklava's plain, L 154 LINES SUGGESTED BY THE ARRIVAL OF LORD CLYDE. And with a bravery rare to find Did Russia's hordes restrain, And taught the foe to ~know the band The Scottish chieftain did command. Thou mighty conqueror of the East, Britannia writes thy name, And though the last, yet not the least, In her bright roll of fame, And on its page thy deeds will glow, While lives the mem'ry of Lucknow ! ON THE DEATH OF THE REV. WILLIAM DILL. If):") OX THE DEATH OF THE KEY. WILLIAM DILL, COLMONELL. COULD learning, piety, or worth, Have saved a pastor, loved so dear, Beside his grave I ne'er had stood, Xor shed the sympathetic tear O'er one so good, so kind, sincere. 'Tis hard to think his loving heart Is silent as the earth I tread ; His smiling face I oft recall, And wonder if he can be dead, With throbbing heart and aching head. But this sad stone proclaims the tale, His form is hastening to decay; I hear the winds around it moan; The good, the kind has passed away, And we are spared another day. 156 ON THE DEATH OP THE REV. WILLIAM DILL. No more I'll hear his voice proclaim The glorious gospel's loving theme ; ISTo more I'll see him stray at eve By Stinchar's sweet, pellucid stream, On heavenly themes to muse and dream. ~No more I'll see his children fair Around him gathering to hear The wondrous tale that moved to mirth, Or made them sigh and drop a tear : Alone they're left in sorrow here. But all the precepts that he taught They will remember evermore, Until they meet, no more to part, Their father on that happy shore, To worship God for evermore. HR1 TAIN'S VOLUNTEERS. 1">7 BRITAIN'S YOLUXTEEES. VAIN Gauls may boast of coming o'er To conquer T5ritain's isle ; l>ut let them land upon its shore, We'll meet them with a smile ; Xor part, though death in frightful forms rpnu the field appears, Tntil cadi braggart grounds his arms To Britain's Volunteers. For never shall a foeman tread Upon the hallow'd graves AYherc sleep the honour'd, mighty dead, "\Vlio nohly rulcil the -waves. Look back on Spain's red hattle-field, And proudly there appears A proof they'd rather die than yield The lirilish Vohn;- 158 BRITAIN'S VOLUNTEERS. The pathway to Victoria's throne Lies through the Nation's heart Ere there a Gallic trumpet's blown It's life-stream must depart ; And buried be the chivalry Our ancient land reveres, When foenien meet in revelry O'er conquered Volunteers. If e'er they cross our guardian waves, We'll set their spirits free ; We gave unto their fathers graves Upon the land and sea ; And, British valour still the same, No foreign foeman fears, T that a despot can enchain True British Volunteers. A CHRISTMAS CAROL. 159 A CHEISTMAS CAEOL. HAIL ! Christmas, with thy sunny tide Of rare old memories dear ! "We welcome thee with joyous pride, And reverence most sincere. Thy mission is to cheer the heart, And reunite friends long apart. The hoary head the lisping tongue "With gladness greet the day On which angelic minstrels sung This sweet seraphic lay " Good-will and peace to all we bring, From Heaven's ever gracious King." To love and friendship give the rein Of life's impatient steed ; And let us for a day detain On pleasure's flowery mead. 160 A CHRISTMAS CAROL. Come, sing the good old songs to-night; Langsyne gives rapturous delight. Bring forth the heroes of the past From Time's obscuring gloom, Who crushed Imperial legions vast, And fighting found a tomb. And youth will learn how Britons can E'en win such fields as Inkerman. Let those beware beyond the sea, Who think that spirit's fled ; We wish to live in amity, But, by the mighty dead, If foemen dare to cross the waves, On freedom's soil we'll give them graves. When mnsic fills the lighted hall That youth and beauty tread ; 'Tis then the memory will recall The dear departed dead, And drop the tribute of a tear To Ayrshire's chief Montgomery dear. A CHRISTMAS CAROL. 101 Tin' faiivst, bravest, for him mourn, Why not the humble poor 1 He nr\vr heard their plaint with scorn, ]S"or shunned the widow's door : But in his Son sixain we see His noble liberality. Insatiate year ! eould'st tliou not go In mercy by the throne 1 Another Princely Head laid low ! Thou'rt surely weary grown Of casting on the earth thy blight Of clouding homes that else were bright. But life's a dream, and death's a sleep i ved alike for all : We part in grief in joy we meet Where no dark shadows fall : So let us sing, at least to-day, A merry Christmas roundelay. 162 THE SUN'S GANE TO REST. THE SUN'S GANE TO EEST. THE sun's gane to rest, love, behind yon great mountain, That looms in wild grandeur across the deep sea ; The stars beam in beauty upon the clear fountain, The gowans are sleeping upon the green lea. The voices are mute o' the birds in the wildwood ; The bat, like the swallow, now winnows the air ; O come to the burn whaur we paidled in childhood ; Like thy bonny sel', Jean, it's face is aye fair. The wild rose nods there, to the bright water singing, Awa' to its hame in the wide-spreading sea ; AVhile o'er it the woodbine its fragrance is flinging, And hushed is the hum o' the wild mountain bee. Years, lang years ha'e fled since we pu'd the red heather. To theek the wee houses we bigg'd on its braes ; An' wove 'neath the hazel, our wee heads thegither, Those visions. as bright as the sun's setting rays. Tin: sux's CANT: TO TIEST. 1 ( AVhon far, fur awn', love, I ever was dreaming Upon the fair face that I loved mair than fame ; It cheer'd me whaur war's gory banner was streaming, Afar frae my country, my kindred, an' name. Afar frae this burnie, its heath-bells, an' gowans, I dream' d o' my Jeanie across the deep sea ; I dream'd o' the spot whaur we pu'd the red rowans, An' shook the brown nits frae the auld hazel tree. i-vcr dear, whaur in life's sunny morning \V- f>ll.>y,vl the minnows that play'cl in the stream; While o'er us the midges their dances were forming, Vrhaur we dano'd like them on the daisy-clad green. 1 wi' your love, in the lowliest sheiling, The sun o' enjoyment wad ne'er set again : She sunk on his bosom her blushes concealing An' murmured, " Dear laddie, my heart's a' yer am." 164 SOXG OF THE SHUTTLE. SONG OF THE SHUTTLE. WHILE before the surge retreating Of great Mammon's swelling wave, Still the shuttle keeps repeating "Death will liberate the slave." As the Summer crowns with glory Every flower that decks the land, So the shuttle's ancient story Makes the fairest look more grand. If the fair, their skill's arraying, Only knew how hard's their fate, Soon the ladies would be laying Some good plan to help their state. From the first who ruled in Eden, To the one who rules at home, Busy wife or blushing maiden, Wield a power the greatest own. SONG OF THE SHUTTLE. 165 Summer comes they feel the sunshine Through the plate-glass overhead ; But the clover or the woodbine Ne'er for them their fragrance shed. All the flowers they see are woven 'Midst the factory's dust and din, Where the few by fortune chosen Loch them out and lock them in. They can stray by glen or mountain ; With their children seek the shore ; Sit beside the coolest fountain Till the noonday's heat is o'er. Buy their daughter sweetest music, For her boudoir all things fine ; And to catch the lordly Spendquick, Silk, brocade, and crinoline. But the weavers' little children, They can never get new clothes ; How they live is quite bewildering, Yet they're happy quite as those 166 SONG OF THE SHUTTLE. Who chicane, and cheat, and grovel, For the gold that rules the town ; Who invade and rob the hovel, Pinch the poor, and keep them down. If they shake for you the vintage, Let them taste the ruby wine : Give to labour fair per centage, And they'll take it very kind. Oil! DIXXA LEAVE FAIR SCOTIA'S SHORE. 1G7 OH ! DINNA LEAVE EAIE SCOTIA'S SHOEE. OH ! dinna leave fair Scotia's shore In search, o' wealth and fame ; AYi' cheerfulness your lot I'll share, But, Jamie, bide at hame. For a' the wealth Australia boasts, Bestowed on me this day, I wadna leave the flowery dells AVhaur we in youth did stray. They may be fair those distant climes, Whaur rare flowers ever bloom; But fairer, dearer, Scotland's heath, An' bonny yellow broom : The singing burn, the lowly cot Whaur first ye soucht my hand, Than a' the flowers or gems that deck Bright India's fabled land. 168 OH! DINNA LEAVE FAIR SCOTIA'S SHORE. I oft hae heard my father say, Langsyne, when by his hearth, True love could bless the lowliest cot That ever rose on earth. I^ow, here his honoured ashes lie, An' a' my pedigree ; Then dinna drag me frae the spot Sae hallo w'd, love, tae me. The Piedmont Glen its flowery braes The sacred trysting tree How can I leave those witching haunts, Sae dear to thee and me ? Whaur every bird, an' burn, an' bush, I ken by sicht an' name " Oh ! say nae mair, my Mysie dear, I'll bide content at hame." LINES SUGGESTED BY THE CLOSING YEAR. 169 LINES SUGGESTED BY THE CLOSING YEAE. ADDRESSED TO W THE dirge of Fifty-nine's been sung ]>y Time's truth-telling iron tongue, Sac frae its frosty winds secure, That rattle at my humble door, A moment let me briefly scan The moral, social state o' Man, And see if Politics can cure Tin- many ills the poor endure, Or if a name can change a man, Or alter Xature's changeless plan, "Which milks .some hearts be kind and leal, And hardens it hers up like steel. I have known men, Sir, so have you "Who oil' the poor the fare did screw ; Who never did commiserate The wandering beggar's wretched state ; 1 70 LINES SUGGESTED BY THE CLOSING TEAR. Who never felt a pitying glow Steal through their hearts for want or woe ; Who seized upon each trick or chance Their sordid interests to advance ; Who did chicane and speculate Until they earned each good man's hate ; And then before a gaping world Their Liberal policy unfurled ; Men loud in their Eeformihg cry, Whose Avhole life was a living lie, As far as Liberty's denned By heavenly or by human mind ; 1 Men who, if " Tories" call'd, would start, Though not from principle or heart ; Yea, greedy as a rav'ning shark, The "Liberal" Whigs G-d save the mark ! And then there's men, you'll quite agree, Who never prate o' liberty ; Aye ready wi' their purse or han' To help their helpless brither man, Or shed the sympathetic tear, The drooping cheerless heart tae cheer ; LINES SUGGESTED BY THE CLOSING YEAR. 171 In every man they see a friend From tyranny they would defend ; Their liberty, like light from heaven, Is meant for all to all is given ; The man that's kind, good will remain, Although a "Tory" be his name ; We canna change inherent nature liy ony clap-trap nomenclature. As clouds and sunshine mix together In April's variable weather, So vice and virtue often meet Upon the city's crowded street. Some grub for siller through the gutters ; If heart they ha'e, its gold it mutters ; They ne'er tak up wi' ocht that's waff, But say their prayers tae Aaron's calf. Some spend their " summer while 'tis May," Unmindful of a winter day ; It comes at last with chilling air, And leaves them standing leafless, bare ; Within the workhouse, sad, alone, 172 LINES SUGGESTED BY THE CLOSING YEAR. They find a house, but not a home ; Shed many a tear, heave many a sigh, Till death appears, and then " good-bye" To kind Inspector, sin, and folly, Bad usage, hunger, melancholy. Forbid it, every heavenly power, That ever I should cross the door Which separates the man and wife When tottering on the verge o' life : Expediency may say it's right, But is it so in Heaven's sight ] Some marry young, syne propagation, The pest o' folk in lowly station, Soon swarms their hames wi' toddling bairns, Could eat mair than the gudeman earns ; The wife turns heartless, thriftless, dirty, The look o' her or house wad hurt ye ; The husband comes hame often tipsy, Syne she fa's on him like a gipsy, Heaps on his head fierce imprecations, And he retorts wi' execrations, LINES STMCKSTED BY THE CLOSING YEAR. 17.') Till Satan's black vocabulary Is quite expended in tlieir fury. The children view, wi' streaming e'en, The savage, fierce 1 , unchristian scene, Till repetition blunts their senses, And then ye ken the consequences. God help the children of such poor, Let mercy open wide her door, And underneath her sheltering wings Protect the helpless wee bit things. Some cry to lower the Franchise down T<> ''Very man o' judgment sound, And then they can reduce taxation, And that's the way tae help the nation ; Whilst Capital, wi' loud gaw-faw, At this proposal wags i1s jaw, It kens it has them in its claw, And means, the fiend, tae swallow a'. John Bright, thou Liberal rising star ! Oh, had ye power like Eussia's Czar, 174 LINES SUGGESTED BY THE CLOSING YEAR. Ye lia'e the true Manchestrian heart Would make the Landed Gentry start ; Would desecrate each bonny stream Wi' motive-power, coal-reek, and steam ; Submerge the earth, and dwell in vapour, To let the labouring poor live cheaper. And pray, John Bright, your next move then 1 " Why, work for less, my humble friend." I know thee, John ; thy noble race Have gi'en me many a kind embrace ; Tae me and mine they kindly lent Their cash at twenty-five per cent. ; For which I hope ye'll yet be knighted, When Whiggery a' our wrangs has righted. Tae mend these ills I speak anent, Men cast their eyes tae Parliament ; A fool's eyes wander o'er the earth, They never look around their hearth ; And there concealed the evils lie Which legislative acts defy. As well petition moon or sun No more their radiant course to run, LINES SUGGESTED BY THE CLOSING TEAR. 175 As tliink our country's legislators Can change our vices or our natures. A moral law they canna pass, And that is wanted maist, alas ! For ony party, state, or class. Good laws may smooth the rugged road Surrounding Labour's mean abode : May give facilities to trade, Protect what honesty has made, But still our weal or woe depends More on our conduct than our friends. 176 GRANU TO HER SON. GEANU TO HEE SOX. A FENIAN WELCOME. EE-STRING me the ould harp ov Erin again, An' play me, dear Paddy, some wild warlike strain ; Since the Fenians are coming, my daiiint gossoon, We must welcome the heroes wid some martial tune. Ould " Lillybolero " you mustn't try that, It was played by the Dutchman bad luck to him Pat; Since he trode on the shamrock, the black-hearted thief I'm sitting in sackloth an' dying wid grief. To uproot his offspring what schemes we have laid ! To shoot thim at midnight was part ov the trade The Whitefeet and Blackfeet tried that to get free, But they caught thim an' hung thim like rogues on a tree, GRANU TO HER SON. 177 JVur, w<.'ll I renumber tlie year ninety-eight Ohon ! our afflictions were then very great ; But had we been thrue to each other thin, dear, We would have been free from Fair Head to Cape Clear. But the Saxons sent over big bagfuls ov gould, An' for guineas, ma boughal, your counthry was sould ; Black Ballinahinch saw our standard laid low The Saxons rejoicing, your mother in woe. When Daniel O'Connell arose in his might, Och ! hard did he labour to put things to right ; But he died broken-hearted, dear, list'ning our groans Leaving Rome his thrue heart, an' poor Ireland his lj. Bould Meagher an' Mitchel they both sint away To dhrearn of republics in Botany Bay ; At M'Cormick's back-door, where big cabbages grew, They seized brave O'Brien, the treacherous crew ! Whin the Fenians come, Pat, across the salt say, I hope they wont land, dear, at Bantry Bay ; Whin last our Frinch friends arrived at that spot, They got a reciption uncommonly hot. 178 GRANU TO HER SON. Strike up " Garryowen," thin, my darlint agra, An' welcome the Fenians to Erin-go-bragh ; The Saxons may beat us, but still we can thry, An' if we don't conquer, we know how to fly. ARRAX. IT':) ARRAX. THE wildwood rose that blooms in June By wandering stream is fair to see ; And precious is the rich perfume The clover sheds upon the lea ; But Arran's heathy hills for me The rifted rock, the roaring linn, That make the mountains shout wi' glee, As o'er the rocks the waters spin. l Cloy has countless charms untold, Unknown, unsung in lowland song ; Here Flora doth her charms unfold, And sunbeams love to linger long ; Here crystal waters ever sing Their joyous song of liberty Had I a choice, I would be king Of Arran's glens and mountains hie. 1 80 ARRAX. I seek not fame, "but happiness; I sigh not for a lordly pile; My prayer is " Give me only this A humble home in Arran's Isle." There, blest with Jessie's sunny look, I'd sit beneath some ancient tree That casts its shadow o'er the brook, And never prates of pedigree. But night descends on Goatfell hoar ; I hear " the Earl's " warning bell ; Again we seek Ardrossan's shore To Arran's hills a sad farewell. To-night my dreams go o'er the sea; For oh! to me the Isle is dear I tread its soil with ecstasy, And leave it often with a tear. LINES ON THE ERECTION OF GEN. NEILL ? S MONUMENT. 181 LINKS OX THE ERECTION OF GEN. XEILL'S MOXTMEXT AT AYE. A TEAR for him who nobly fell, Far from a home and nation ; .Mas ! "brave Neill, ye earned it well This heartfelt, deep ovation. When treason did the East enshroud "With crimes dark and alarming, Thy daring deeds dispelled the cloud At Lucknow's famous storming. Tin- lii-it ish Lion flaunted high, Dark Bramah's sons defying ; While AznuTs wings ohscured the sky, Alnivr tlie dead and dying. Amidst the draining shout and cheer Of British heroes forming, He fell, hut not without a tear, At Lucknow's glorious storming. 182 LINES ON THE ERECTION OF GEN. NEILL's MONUMENT. No more by winding Ayr he'll stray, Amidst its beauties dreaming Of battle-fields far, far away, "With glory o'er them streaming. His dreams are o'er, now cold in death He sleeps by Jumna's river, - But fame has bound a fadeless wreath Around his name for ever. Though o'er his grave, in India's clime, May tread the savage stranger, His country still will bear in mind Brave Neill, Cawnpore's avenger. The whispering winds that kiss the wave Across the ocean flying, Will softly murmur o'er his grave Our love unchanged, undying. SUMMER. 183 SUMMER. WELCOME, Summer, with thy sunshine, Flowers and foliage, fruits and grain, Blooming hedgerows crowned with woodbine, Breathing fragrance o'er the plain. Now the humble star-like daisy Lifts its lowly dew-dimmed eye To its wondrous brilliant likeness High above it in the sky. Swallows swiftly skim the meadow, And the blackbird fills the glen With the music of his woodnotes, Waking echo's voice again. O'er his sleeping unfledged nestlings 3 the golden-tasselled broom, While he serenades their slumbers With the melody of tune. 184 SUMMER. Theirs the truly regal palace, Grander than the monarch's home, Lovely earth its flowery carpet, Starry heaven its glittering dome. In the distant North horizon Slowly sinks the sun from view, As a lover fondly lingers Ere he speaks the word, Adieu ! Now around the rural cottage Children meet to laugh and play ; Age looks on, amused, delighted, With the sports that close the day. In the city's dingy alleys Pale-faced children raise their eyes To the smoky-clouded curtain That obscures the Summer skies. There the wretched mother wanders Through obscurity and din, Seeking for her outcast offspring Finds them in the haunts of sin. SUMMER. 185 Thou who saidst the little sparrow Did not fall unheeded down, Look with Fatherly compassion On the children of the town. Guard them from the foul contagion Of intemperance, vice, and crime ; Teach them that in truth and virtue Peace and happiness they'll find. And when, forced by legislation, Capital must give a day, Then away to stream and mountain, Where health-giving breezes play. There the gems that deck creation, Teeming from the flowery sod, Lifts the heart in adoration To the power that formed it GOD ! 186 ADDRESS OF LORD G 'S TENANTRY. ADDRESS OF LOED G 'S TENANTRY. MY LORD, TAE us your honour is sae dear, We thought it proper tae appear In print, your character to clear Erae foul aspersion, And let folk ken, baith far and near, There's nae coercion. This curs' d Election is a bore, Our hearts are troubl'd unco sore, Tae think that we maun stan' before Baith frien' and fae, An' thole the taunts o' Jamie's core; It's hard we say. Eorbye, Buchanan's prying crew, They're sure to sift the matter through, ADDRESS OF LORD G 's TENANTRY. An' hand it up to public view, And jeer an' lark it : There's naething in his paper true, Except the Market. An' then he sneers about our tacks, An' criticises a' your acts, An' says some wicked Landlord racks Puir farming bodies, Unless they poll wi' them in packs, Like common cuddies. The folk nae doubt will think it strange, Tae see us vote against Sir James ; But, then, his conduct did estrange The love ye bore him ; An' when we saw your Lordship change, We did abhor him. Now, here, we solemnly declare, (Nay, if ye doubt, we're safe to swear,) We're free as ony ane in Ayr Tae vote for Jamie ; But it wad be unkind, unfair, Tae gang again' ye. 188 ADDRESS OF LORD G ? S TENANTRY. Quite true, your Factor acted keen, An' said the thing ye didna mean ; Ye ken Sir Charlie was your frien' Langsyrie in Ayr ; For mony a day wi' tearfu' een Ye mourn' d him sair. The folk o' Ayr may growl an' whine, An' say ye 're acting mean, unkind, But we say ye dae richt tae mind The grave offence 0' gaun tae Derby's house tae dine, It skeu's your sense. ]S~ow here wi' you we tak' our stan', We'll clip the wings o' Jamie's clan ; Our services ye may comman' Against your foes ; But, hide the string within your han' That's through our nose. SIGNED ON BEHALF OF THE TWENTY-SIX, A JSTON-ELECTOR. JEAN1E MOFFAT. JEANIE MOFFAT. IF Jeanie smiles, tlie warl may frown, I carena for its wayward thraws, Nor how the slippery toy gaes round That fickle fortune qucerly ca's. Let ithers struggle in the cause That leads to worldly wealth and fame, I'm careless quite whate'er befa's, Unless she cheers my cosie hame. By Clutha's stream, in nichtly dreams, I wi' my winsome Jeanie stray ; Hut. morning, wi' its rosy beams, Aye drives her bonny face away. Then, oh, I canna speak by day The thochts, the words, I should impart; Xeist time we meet, I'll try to say How dear she's to my waiting heart. 190 JEANIE MOFFAT. The wild rose twines around the thorn ; Beneath their shade the birdies pair ; The sportive hare that crops the corn Aye gets a mate his joys to share ; But I by Clutha roam forlorn, And breathe my vows to empty air ; Far better I had ne'er been born, Unless I win my Jeanie fair. Oh, Jeanie Moffat, wad ye see Your lover leave his native hame, In some strange land to pine and dee, Unkent to honour, love, and fame ? Ye' 11 sairly rue when I am gane For ever o'er the stormy sea ; Then say, oh say, ye'll be my ain, An' fill my heart wi' ecstacy. LORD EGLINTON'S BIRTH-DAY. 191 LORD EGLINTON'S BIRTH-DAY. FROM Old Kilwinning'a towers grey Is many a banner streaming gay ; Its merry bells do ring. Long live the scion of a race The County's ornament and grace, Amen doth Irvine sing. Ardrossan sends across the bay A greeting warm as this to-day To Eglinton's young chief: May each r<- turning birth-day bring . love, and joy upon its wing, Undinim'd by care and grief. 192 LORD EGLINTON'S BIRTH-DAY. May ne'er misfortune's adverse gale With sudden gust back-fill your sail, As o'er the waves ye glide Of life's uncertain troubled sea ; With revelry upon your lee, Take prudence for your guide. Avoid the swarm of Fashion's school Who fish for joy in Folly's pool Wise men have stumbled in ; When Pleasure's cover up ye beat, Ye'll find her in some calm retreat, Afar from worldly din. Long may you find in rural life The peace that shuns the anxious strife Where competition reigns : Still may the needy, helpless poor Find succour at your Lordship's door, And bless your broad domains. Still may the curling pond and green When curlers meet and bowlers keen Be always graced by you ; LORD EGLINTON'S BIRTH-DAY. 193 The magic of Montgomery's name Will give a zest to every game, Quite fascinating new. Long may your huntsmen wake the morn With baying hound and braying horn, By moorland, stream, and glen ; And children clap their hands and say " Lord Eglinton hunts here to-day With all his merry men." 194 PADDY'S HALLUCINATIONS. PADDY'S HALLUCINATIONS. THE cry of the Nation is always the same " Bad luck to the Saxons, confusion, and shame ;" It swears that ould Ireland like Eden would smile If the heretic varmin were banished the Isle. No longer would Pat have to wander abroad, To work amongst mortar and carry the hod, But sing in his hovel of mud, filth, and straw, The beautiful ditties of Erin-go-bragh. Whatever misfortunes to Paddy befal, He dreams that the Saxons occasion them all ; His praties are blighted in vain doth he toil While their shadow, like mildew, falls black on the soil. "Och! would great Napoleon come over some day, And sweep the invaders right into the say; We would then get living like princes, agra, In the beautiful Island of Erin-go-bragh." PADDY'S HALMVINATIOXS. 10.") The toes of tlie, Saxons, Pat liails them as friends; Ti> Aiuhans or Call'ivs he sympathy sends; ut liis joy, like the race of the hero, was brief. 196 PADDY'S HALLUCINATIONS. Yet thousands in Ireland lament o'er the same, Who would die to defend Britain's honour and fame ; " But, then, for Eepail, sure they don't care a straw, Or they'd welcome the devils to Erin-go-bragh." Oh ! Paddy cease dreaming, and turn up the sod ; The earth, sure, is faithful to Pagans abroad, Who ne'er breathed a pater to Heaven, we're told, Yet the tempting fruit hangs on the bushes like gold. The Saxon and Celt are alike in God's sight ; To bless and to aid all is Heaven's delight Then let us be kind to each other, agra, And imitate Heaven in Erin-go-bragh. THE SUX HAD PRESSED HIS OCEAN BED. 197 THE SUN HAD PBESSED HIS OCEAN BED. THE sun had pressed his ocean "bed ; iind yon Arran hills, And radiantly the moon had shed Her silver o'er the rills; And far the AVestem waves did gleam Beneath her queenly eye ; While at my feet fair Girvan stream, Like music, glided by. Its vv-ak-rs seemed to sing to me 0' bygane happy days, When, as the winds, I wandered free Upon its sunny braes; Or wi' my Annie socht the shade Wi' woodbine overgrown, Whaur many a flower its bloom displayed Around her wildwood throne. 198 THE SUN HAD PRESSED HIS OCEAN BED. But vanished are those joyous hours, For youth has passed away, When fancy wove in fragrant bowers Its visions bright as day. Gone is the loving heart sincere That blest my humble home ; Gone are the friends to memory dear Earth gave them all a tomb. The leafless tree upon the brae May brave bleak Winter's blasts, Till Summer comes wi' sunshine gay, And verdure o'er it casts ; But joy to me will ne'er return, My lonely heart to cheer, Until I meet the friends I mourn In some mair happy sphere. KILKKRRAN'S BONNY BRAES. 199 KILKEEEAX'S BOXNY BEAES. By classic Doon the Minstrel sung 0' winsome lasses braw ; But there is ane on Girvan's stream That's fairer than them a'. There's no a flower by hill or glen That Simmer bright displays, Can rival Edith Eergusson, On sweet Ivilkerran's braes. Young Jamie won her gentle hand, Syne brocht her to his ha', To cast her shadow o'er our path, By mountain, stream, and shaw ; "Whaur gracefu' as the sportive fawn That through the woodland strays, She blesses wi' her joyous smiles Kilkerran's bonny braes. 200 KILKERRAN'S BOXNY BRAES. The winning graces o' her mind Love, innocence, and truth "Will still our hearts towards her draw, When gone the charms o' youth. And as the stars their radiance shed, To light earth's darksome ways, Sae these will cheer the cheerless heart, Make bright Kilkerran's braes. LINES WRITTEN ON BURNS' ANNIVERSARY. 201 LINES WBTTTEN ON BURNS' ANNIVERSARY. WE meet in memory of the great Departed Bard of Scotia's land, Whose noble strains yet sound as sweet As Ocean on Ardrossan's strand. To hail the genius, rare and grand, That classic Coila well may boast, Whose deathless notes in echoes sweet To-night are ringing round the coast. Wi! meet to drink the pathos deep, That from his peerless pen did flow ; To honour Ayrshire's princely son, That deeply felt another's woe. LINES WRITTEN ON BURNS* ANNIVERSARY. And though the Minstrel lieth low, His spirit yet pervades this hall, And comes, with memories of the past, To cheer the hearts of one and all. Where is the man who never felt His heart respond to " Auld Langsyne," As up it conjured youthful days, "When woman's face appeared divine ? And Scotland would disown the son Whose soul impassive could remain, As Bruce harangues his mountaineers On Bannockburn's glorious plain. Old azure Ocean may grow grey, The stars may lose their pristine light, The Cannon Hill may pass away, That o'er us grandly looms to-night ; But Burns' poesy will live Through countless ages yet unborn Will laugh with those that merry are, And weep with those that weary mourn. LINES WRITTEN ON BURNS* ANNIVERSARY. Long may Ardrossan's sons unite To hold the Bard's nativity, And at the flame their tapers light Of soul-inspiring poesy. In after ages may they beam, Like sunlight on the mountains grey, Emitting rays of truth divine To cheer their children's weary way. -04 SHAM FIGHT AT POLLOC. SHAM FIGHT AT POLLOC, SAINT MUNGO, what a glorious sight Of waving plumes and armour bright, On Police field appears ! The smiling sun looks on the scene, Enraptured with the martial mien Of Scotland's Volunteers. Beyond the margin of the stream, On Corker's Hill their bayonets gleam Like stars that gem the night ; But no life-stream will stain to-day The Cart upon its peaceful way, For friendly is the fight. Like rushing waters' distant hum, From ancient Glasgow on they come, The thoughtless, sober, gay; SHAM FIGHT AT POLLOC. Sonic roll in silks and crinoline, And others anything but fine, To view the grand display. The bravery and the might are there Of famed Dumbarton, bonny Ayr, Of Lanark and Renfrew ; All hail to Freedom's valiant band ! The guardians of our native land The gallant and the true ! The peasant and the knight are there, The winsome lass, the lady fair, To see the bloodless war ; T< view, at least in mimic strife, I low Britons fought for home and life, ( )n battle-fields afar. To look upon the Greys again, Who swept o'er Balaklava's plain Amidst a shower of death ; Who on the field of Waterloo The chivalry of France o'erthrew, And won Fame's fadeless wreath. SHAM FIGHT AT POLLOC. Cold, base the heart must be indeed, That would not wish the men God-speed Who fought in many a clime ; Who clipt the Gallic Eagle's wing, And sent Napoleon, lone, to sing Ambition's parting hymn. In columns vast, in proud array, The gallant Volunteers display How glory may be won ; They fire, advance, retreat, re-form, Amidst a lurid powdery storm, Obscuring earth and sun. Eut hark ! the trumpet's martial bray Recalls the stragglers , from the fray, To pass in grand review; The brave who fought on many a field, The valiant Douglas, Grant, M'JSeill, And others quite as true. With men like these around our home, Then let the foemen onward come In legions o'er the sea ; SHAM FIGHT AT POLLOC. 207 They'll guard the hallowed land of Bruce, The land of liberty and truth, The haunts of chivalry. At last, ascending to the skies, We hear Victoria's anthern rise Amidst vociferous cheers ; And homeward as they wend their way, They sing this patriotic lay - " THE BRITISH VOLUNTEERS." Should foreign foes menace us On Caledonia's strand, They never will disgrace us, The guardians of our land. But fight for home and beauty, For all that love endears, Like soldiers do their duty The British Volunteers. Should Europe league together, And come across the waves, Our blood must dye the heather Before their power enslaves 208 SHAM FIGHT AT POLLOC. The brave descendants of the Bruce, Whose spirit yet appears To guard the land he trod in youth, Like Britain's Volunteers. Unconquered Britons guard the Isle The world could ne'er subdue, And glory ever loves to smile Upon the bonnets blue. Then never shall a foeman tread The land that Eame reveres, While Scotland's Thistle waves her head Above her Volunteers. LINES ON THE OPENING OF THE GIRVAN RAILWAY. 209 LIXES WRITTEN ON THE OPENING OF THE GIRVAN RAILWAY. TIME rolleth on, and changeth all That's mutable upon the earth ; Its onward silent footsteps fall Alike on poor and rich man's hearth. Look at the past for war array'd The Baron's bold retainers stand ; His lordly will must be obey'd, None dare dispute their chief's command. ' Then Girvan's sweet secluded vale Was oft the scene of deadly feuds ; And many a crime we now bewail Awoke the Dryads of its woods. The echoes which since then have slept In death-like silence by its stream, Have woke to life with echoing beat, And hail their liberator Steam. 210 LINES ON THE OPENING OP THE GIRVAN RAILWAY. Now Barons meet, but not in wrath, They differ still, but yet agree Unitedly to smooth the path That leads to social harmony ; In aiding science to dispel The ignorance of ages past, And o'er the land we love so well Its multifarious blessings cast. Let pale-faced labour come and see The sun sink in his ocean bed, And hear the wild waves' minstrelsy When clouds envelope Ailsa's head. There see the sea-fowl go to rest Upon its cloud-lodged hoary peak ; While surging round their airy nests, The Western waves like thunder break. The Northern coast of Erin's Isle Seen piled up to the Southern sky, While gently, as a sleeping child, The azure Ocean now doth lie. LINES OX THE OPENING OF THE GIRVAN RAILWAY. '21 1 Fair Ami n ! land of Highland hearts, Its verdant slopes, its Goatfell bare ; The great sun kisseth, and departs From view in golden glory there. Then leave the city's smoky gloom, Its competition and its strife ; Kilkerraii's braes are now in bloom, Bargany's wild woods teem with life. Around Killochaii's ancient hall The wild flowers sweetly scent the air, The rook's hoarse notes at evening fall Are heard amongst the old trees there. The land of Carrick home of Bruce, AVlio fought, and won our liberty ; The land of song, of love, and truth : Come down by rail this land and see. 212 LINES ON THE DEATH OP CAPTAIN WILSON. LINES ON THE DEATH OF CAPTAIN WILSON. SIT here, beside the Castle wall That's mouldering fast away, Where ivy loves to darkly crawl O'er ruin and decay : Here oft he gazed at evening tide, Enraptured on the swelling Clyde, He loved the waves ; they were his home In manhood's morning day ; He gloried still to see their foam Break o'er the Horse Isle, grey, Or chase each other o'er the sand Along Ardrossan's shelly strand. But yesterday his accents sweet ^ .. __ . __, To-day the earth's his winding sheet, Within the silent tomb ; But still affection seeks his grave, Its agonizing griefs to rave. I.IXKs OX TilK DEATH OF CAPTAIN WILSON. 1! 1 :> The trembling dew-drops on. the gra That glisten o'er his bed, But symbolize the tears, alas ! By many for him shed. The generous friend, forgiving foe Oli death, why didst thou lay him low ? Eternity's dark waters lave The land where all are free, When safe across its noiseless wave AW 11 hold a jubilee An intellectual feast of love With Wilson in the realms above. 214 THE COTTQN FAMINE. THE COTTON FAMINE. DARK dreary December lias spread o'er the earth Its mantle of mistyness, woven by gloom, And Want has sat down on the working-man's hearth, As pale as the spectres that tenant the tomb. The factories are silent, their shuttles are still, Their life has departed, their cotton is gone ; And swift as a torrent descends from a hill, Fierce famine has fastened on many a one. Mementoes of friendship, heirlooms of the past, The ring of betrothal, all's gone to the pawn ; Yet bravely they battle adversity's blast God hasten prosperity's bread-giving dawn ! Let peace spread her wings o'er Columbia's shore, The world is weary of madness and strife ; The North bent on conquest they fight for no more The South for their homesteads, their honour, and life. TI1K COTTON FAMINE. 210 Democracy stalketh in blood o'er tlie land, Mi^mlc and oppression roll on as a wave, Submerging whatever is noble in man, Invoking the hatred of master and slave. The star-spangled banner is now rent in twain, In tatters it droops over Liberty's grave ; There's few but John Bright would unite it again, Or Leatham he's silly the other's a knave. They'd have us succumb to the men we despise ; Ask pardon of those who but merit disdain ; " Xo, rather starvation," brave Lancashire cries, " Our banner's unsullied, so let it remain." God strengthen those heroes, and God bless the men Who rushed to the rescue of Lancashire's sons ; " A Derby for ever," .shouts Britain again, More loud than the roll of Eepublican guns. With such men to aid us, we may rest secure, Tlio' Famine's pale foot-prints are seen on the strand ; Their thousands will frighten the wolf from the door, Till cotton is gathered in some other land. .116 ON A TOMBSTONE IN ARDROSSAN CEMETERY. LINES ON A TOMBSTONE IN AKDROSSAN CEMETERY. How peacefully they slumber here, Bemoved from sorrow, sin and fear, Till Christ shall in his glory come And take them to his blissful home A land more lovely far than this, Of seraph song and endless bliss.