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 CTJTHBiBLRTSON

 
 ROSSLYN LYRICS 
 
 DAVID CUTHBERTSON, 
 
 ASSISTANT LIBRARIAN, fHILOSOPHICAL INSTITUTION, EDIIfCURGH i 
 AUTHOR OF " ESKSIDE LYRICS." 
 
 Better for 7nan 
 Were lie mid Nature viore familiar friends, 
 
 Alkxandek Smitu. 
 
 EDINBURGH : 
 THE EDINBURGH PUBLISHING COMPANY. 
 
 1878.
 
 Gogs' 
 
 UNIVEPSn V OF CAUFORNM 
 i^AMA BAiiBARA 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 THE PIPER S ADVENTURE, , 
 
 
 
 5 
 
 LOST AND FOUND, . 
 
 
 
 9 
 
 THE BUGLE CALL OF SONG, 
 
 
 
 II 
 
 A COUNTRY IDYLL, 
 
 
 
 14 
 
 ELAINE, . . . . . 
 
 
 
 15 
 
 THE emigrant's HAME, 
 
 
 
 17 
 
 baby's dead, 
 
 
 
 19 
 
 SONG— MAGGIE IS NEAR, 
 
 
 
 21 
 
 he's OVERHEAD, 
 
 
 
 22 
 
 AWAY IN THE WEST, 
 
 
 
 25 
 
 THE DILEMMA, 
 
 
 
 26 
 
 THE SABBATH DAY, . 
 
 
 
 28 
 
 children's laughter, 
 
 
 
 30 
 
 THE librarians' CARNIVAL, 
 
 
 
 32 
 
 The Humorous Clergyman, . 
 
 
 
 37 
 
 Song — The Days that are Gone, 
 
 
 
 44 
 
 A Funny Mistake, 
 
 
 
 46 
 
 Hearing the Sermon, 
 
 
 
 49 
 
 Oor Stair, 
 
 
 
 51 
 
 The Mechanical Man, 
 
 
 
 53 
 
 lasswade revisited. 
 
 
 
 56 
 
 MY sister and I, . 
 
 
 
 58 
 
 THE PENTLAND HILLS, 
 
 
 
 60 
 
 THE RAIN, .... 
 
 
 
 61 
 
 THE AULD FOLK, 
 
 
 
 64 
 
 THE SPIRIT OF NIGHT, 
 
 
 
 66 
 
 A NIGHT PICTURE, . 
 
 
 
 71
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 THE HAVEN IN THE FUTURE, 
 
 HAWTHORNDEN, 
 
 FORGET-ME-NOTS, 
 
 A SCOTTISH WIFE, 
 
 SITTING BY THE FIRE, 
 
 THE soldier's REWARD, 
 
 A RED ROSE, . 
 
 THE SEWIN' MACHINE, 
 
 A HALF-BLOWN ROSE. 
 
 SUNSET, 
 
 JESSIE, 
 
 THE maiden's CONFESSION 
 
 THOSE BOYS, . 
 
 SONG A WESTERN GEM. 
 
 RUMMLEGUMPTION, . 
 SAMUEL SMILES JERDAN, 
 THE CLASP OF A HAND, 
 GENEROSITY, . 
 
 SONG — SWEET IS THE MORNIN', 
 
 what's WRANG NOO ? 
 WHY THE SEA MOANS, 
 
 73 
 75 
 76 
 
 78 
 79 
 81 
 
 83 
 
 90 
 91 
 93 
 94- 
 96 
 
 98 
 
 lOI 
 
 102 
 102. 
 104. 
 
 105 
 106 
 108.
 
 ROSSLYN LYRICS. 
 
 THE PIPER'S ADVENTURE. 
 
 A LEGEND OF ROSLIN. 
 
 Up above the sky was studded with the brilliant gems of 
 
 night 
 Glitt'ring in a sea of azure, fair and wondrous to the sight ; 
 And the Pleiades shone faintly, while the Milky Way was 
 
 seen, 
 With unnumbered lights attending, all robed in a pearly 
 
 sheen. 
 Clear the moon shone, clad in brightness, sailing like a 
 
 queen of air. 
 Shedding down to earth her splendour, beautiful beyond 
 
 compare. 
 All around was wrapt in slumber, save the owl from out the 
 
 glen. 
 Waking echoes with its crying thro' the woods of Hawthorn- 
 den. 
 And the spirit of the breezes, wand'ring like a thing forlorn, 
 Roamed about, incessant crying for the day yet to be born. 
 Such a night as this there happened many hundred years 
 
 ago. 
 When Will-o'-the-Wisp was dancing on the marshes to and 
 
 fro. 
 
 A
 
 I^OSSL VN L YRICS. 
 
 In the dead of night, when demons walk the earth in ghostly 
 
 form, 
 When they gird a mantle round them, glide unnoticed 
 
 thro' the storm. 
 Came a Piper, playing boldly, thro' the woods of Hawthorn- 
 den, 
 Waking birds from peaceful slumbers, rousing echoes in the 
 
 glen. 
 And it seemed as if the spirits of the English dead, who fell 
 On the fated field of Hewin', near to old St INIungo's Well, 
 Followed thro' the night air screaming, in a wild and eildrich 
 
 tone. 
 Hovered round the valiant Piper, who kept up his constant 
 
 drone. 
 Past the Lover's Leap he wended, and a wraith here crossed 
 
 his path. 
 Faded in the leafy distance, silent in its very wrath, 
 Down the path below the Chapel, where St Clairs in armour 
 
 lie, 
 Slowly passed the Piper, playing where the Esk ran rippling 
 
 nigh. 
 Thro' the wicket, o'er the drawbridge, gallantly he held his 
 
 way. 
 While the stars looked down in wonder, and the moon gave 
 
 helpful ray. 
 Thro'' a cavern, narrow, rugged, paced he playing valiant 
 
 still, 
 And the music sounded weirdly underneath the rocky hill. 
 At the vaults he ceased his playing, and there reigned a 
 
 silence grim, 
 While a thin veil covered all things with a misty vapour dim ; 
 Clammy felt the walls around him, cobwebs all deserted hung, 
 While outside the breezes murmured, and their midnight 
 
 anthems sung.
 
 /?OSSL YN L YRICS. 
 
 Wand'ring carefully and slowly through the large ancestral 
 
 vaults, 
 Suddenly he paused in groping — for a moment's time he 
 
 halts ; 
 Then he lights a candle swiftly, peers adown towards his 
 
 feet, 
 While like muffled drums resounding, so his heart doth 
 
 quicker beat. 
 Carefully he scraped around him dust which had for ages 
 
 lain — 
 Dust perhaps of men and women, who in treachery were 
 
 slain ; 
 And a stone, with ring of iron, found he close beside the 
 
 wall, 
 And he tugged and pulled it upwards, let it sullenly back 
 
 fall. 
 Down he crept some steps beneath it, while his limbs all 
 
 shook with fear ; 
 But success lay just before him, soon would be wealth and 
 
 good cheer. 
 Here the passage widened outwards, like a crescent moon 
 
 'twas shaped ; 
 While the water trickled downwards from the walls with 
 
 dampness draped. 
 Up two steps into a chamber, where was seen a table old ; 
 On it lay a sword and bugle, with a mouthpiece of pure 
 
 gold; 
 And a paper, old and fragile, lay upon the table there. 
 Which the Piper lifted gently, read the writing on't with 
 
 care — 
 Underneath this chamber treasure you will find, whoe'er you 
 
 be ; 
 But to gain such you must ring out on this bugle clear 
 
 blasts three.
 
 ROSSL YN L YRICS. 
 
 Then the sword from out its scabbard you must whirl once 
 
 round about, 
 Then the flags will rise up gently — quickly do this and not 
 
 doubt. 
 Tremblingly the Piper lifted, from the table old and rare — 
 Blew a blast upon the bugle, waking spirits in the air ; 
 And it thro' the caverns wended, with an echo loud and long, 
 As the Piper blew another blast aloud both clear and strong. 
 But his heart it failed, and clammy were his hands and body 
 
 all, 
 While the candle, burning dimly, cast strange shadows on 
 
 the wall. 
 And he grasped the sword to wave it ; but, lo ! what a sight 
 
 appears ! 
 Knights who here had slept in quietness, for at least a 
 
 hundred years, 
 Woke, and stood up in their armour, and the place was filled 
 
 with light. 
 While around fair ladies wandered, lovely, beauteous to the 
 
 sight. 
 Tables spread with viands reeking, wines which sparkled 
 
 pure and clear ; 
 But a voice of thunder echoed — made the Piper quake with 
 
 fear — 
 " Woe to you, false, helpless craven ! Better you had ne'er 
 
 been born. 
 Than have tried and failed in sounding thrice upon the bugle 
 
 horn." 
 Like the calm before a tempest, so a lull fell like a weight 
 Pressed upon the air around him, and the Piper met his fate ; 
 For a rumbling noise came swiftly, and the knights and 
 
 ladies all 
 Vanished like a troubled vision, pass'd beyond all human 
 
 call!
 
 ROSSLVN LYRICS. 
 
 And the Piper still is waiting (so the wondrous legends 
 say), 
 
 To come forth from out the Castle, and once more see light 
 of day. 
 
 And at night oft in the winter, when the clouds hide stars 
 from sight, 
 
 When the winds around are sighing, and the pale moon hides 
 her light, 
 
 You can hear some wondrous music, standing on the wooden 
 bridge, 
 
 Where the rocks are jutting forwards in a narrow, rugged 
 ridge. 
 
 'Tis the sound of pipes resounding in the hollow ground be- 
 neath, 
 
 Where above the grass is waving, with a coating thick of 
 heath ; 
 
 And still yet a cave is standing, 'neath the Castle's ram- 
 parts strong, 
 
 Where the Piper entered playing, and has waited there so 
 long. 
 
 And the " Piper's Hole" folk call it, while the river passing by 
 
 Gurgles to the wind which hovers round the spot with plain- 
 tive sigh. 
 
 LOST AND FOUND. 
 
 Snow had fallen all day long 
 
 On the street and on the square, 
 Cold and piercing blew the air- 
 Shrieking out defiant song.
 
 ROSSL YN L YRICS. 
 
 And the snow-flakes, pure and white, 
 Chased each other in affright ; 
 
 While above was seen no sky. 
 
 Dull clouds brooded o'er the town — 
 
 Dark as midnight lingered nigh. 
 
 Underneath a lighted lamp 
 
 Stood a woman singing there ; 
 On her face and tangled hair 
 
 Crystal drops were shining damp. 
 And she sang an olden song 
 To th' unheeding, passing throng ; 
 
 And the plaintive air fell sweet, 
 
 Rippled through the wintry air, 
 
 While her pulses swiftly beat. 
 
 'Twas not many years ago 
 
 When she with her brother played, 
 By the laughing meadows strayed. 
 
 Since those times much grief and woe 
 Had she known, while in her heart 
 Chords, long silent, break and part. 
 
 Leave her lonely in the night, 
 Singing but a simple tune, 
 
 All around is wrapped in white. 
 
 Suddenly a passer-by 
 
 Stood entranced the song to hear ; 
 
 Paused, then went the singer near : 
 Like a whisper — as a sigh 
 
 Something trembled on his tongue — 
 
 Then a glance his accents rung — 
 " Sister !"—" Brother !" thus each said. 
 
 While he, thankful, clasp'd the hands 
 Of her whom he thoujjht loner dead !
 
 T^OSSL YN L YRICS. 
 
 After many weary years 
 
 Was the lost one found again ; 
 
 Reconciled and left the pain 
 All behind, with terrors, fears. 
 
 Never more was seen a form 
 
 Singing clear 'mid snow or storm 
 For the wand'rer found a home, 
 
 Where, with ev'ry want supplied, 
 She would never need to roam. 
 
 THE BUGLE CALL OF SONG. 
 
 When the morning sun is shining, rising o'er the eastern hills ; 
 When each glen and valley echoes to the murmur of the rills ; 
 When the dewdrops glisten brightly on each blade of grass 
 
 and flow'r, — 
 Sweet it is to walk and ponder at this quiet, early hour. 
 When the birds around are singing. Nature shows her 
 
 choicest gems, 
 When she is but just awaking to give many diadems. 
 Nature ! thou that givest gladness, spreadest garments o'er 
 
 the earth, 
 Making woods beside us echo with the joyfulness of mirth ! 
 Nature ! thou that comest gaily when the winter's snows are 
 
 o'er, 
 Tripping lighter than a fairy, bringing from thy treasured 
 
 store 
 Snowdrops, crocuses, and daisies, wondrous flowers bright 
 
 and rare ; — 
 Thou that givest treasures freely, modest, sweet, and ever fair —
 
 J^OSSL KV Z VmCS. 
 
 Who would not delight to ramble in the peaceful, early 
 
 morn ? 
 When the sun is seen uprising, when another day is born ! 
 Sing ! ye birds, a joyful carol, let the glens resound with 
 
 joy; 
 
 Sing ! and make our hearts feel happy, tasting not the 
 
 world's alloy. 
 Sing a song both clear and plaintive, rising high and falling 
 
 low, — 
 Like the murmurs of the zephyrs when the western wind doth 
 
 blow. 
 Sing, O river ! gurgling, pulsing, threading ever on thy way ; 
 Sing and tell to weary mortals of a future happy day. 
 Sing ! and fill our hearts with laughter, make them all as 
 
 bright and clear 
 As the sun reflected in thee sparkling on thy surface here. 
 Sing ! and tell in noble language labour is not to be 
 
 scorned ; — 
 Better clad in garments modest, than with false gems be 
 
 adorned ! 
 Better to be working lonely, from the world and from her 
 
 sight, 
 If we know, deep in our bosom, we are acting in the right. 
 Sing each bird, and tree, and flower, whisper gently in our 
 
 ears ; 
 Calm the doubts which rise within us, chase away all inward 
 
 fears. 
 Let us look and think on Nature, working all around us here. 
 Decking many places grandly, making all things yet more 
 
 dear, — 
 Dear to us, tho' life is fleeting, like the vapours now which 
 
 rise 
 From the hills and valleys yonder, mounting upwards to the 
 
 skies.
 
 ROSSL VN L YRICS. 1 3 
 
 Song, however low and feeble, cheers us like a joyous smile, 
 Makes us happy for a little, and our cares doth oft beguile. 
 Each one here, however humble, has his duties to perform ; 
 Each one too must work and suffer, thro' the darkness and 
 
 thro' storm. 
 Soon the storms of life will vanish, soon we'll hear the sullen 
 
 roar 
 Break into triumphal music, on another brighter shore ; 
 And the music here so pleasant will be grander in that 
 
 clime. 
 When we've passed the golden portals, and have bade farewell 
 
 to time ! 
 Oh ! my brothers, wht) are toiling downcast on this earth of 
 
 ours, 
 Life has many shadows in it, many days of rains and show'rs. 
 But with hearts that are determined, let us do the best we 
 
 can ; 
 Let us strive to rise aye upwards, and be foremost in the 
 
 van. 
 Let us sing the claims of labour, though our tasks be humble 
 
 all; 
 Still, like soldiers, aye be marching, let our footsteps steady 
 
 fall : 
 And then with the trump of gladness, and the bugle call of 
 
 song, 
 We will march forever forwards, with our hearts attuned and 
 
 strong.
 
 14 ROSSLYN LYRICS. 
 
 A CO UNTR Y ID YLL. 
 
 Sweetly sings the lark above me 
 
 On this sunny day, 
 And he still mounts higher, higher, 
 While his voice ne'er seems to tire — 
 
 Singing free and gay. 
 And the song comes downwards ringing, 
 With it memories many bringing 
 
 As I gaze above ; 
 While I hear in all the singing 
 
 Nought but love. 
 
 Clouds are floating past like phantoms 
 
 In a garb of white ; 
 While they seem to chase each other, 
 Playing, sporting close together, 
 
 Bathed in warm sunlight ! 
 Till, at last, some of them sever, 
 Speed away just like a feather 
 
 Till they're lost to view — 
 Speed away and bid forever 
 
 All adieu ! 
 
 Lovely violets and daisies, 
 
 Modest, sweet to view. 
 Gaze shy up, as if appealing 
 To those having Nature's feeling 
 
 For the pure and true. 
 And the Chapel in its glory 
 Seems to tell of some past story 
 
 Of a greatness gone. 
 While it stands in sculptured beauty, 
 
 And alone !
 
 /^OSSL YN L YRICS. 1 5. 
 
 Zephyrs 'mong the leaves are whisp'ring, 
 
 Humming soft a rhyme ; 
 All the woods around are ringing 
 To the sweet and dulcet singing, 
 
 Like a hymn sublime. 
 All things join in Nature's chorus, 
 Beauty hovers round us, o'er us, 
 
 Far away and near, 
 Making bright the path before us 
 
 As we journey here. 
 
 ELAINE. 
 
 With deep emotion, 
 And fond devotion, 
 I often think of 
 
 My bygone years ; 
 And my thoughts turn ever 
 On her who will never 
 Return to me more — 
 
 What use of tears ? 
 While my heart seems sighing. 
 And no voice replying 
 To thoughts that are flying 
 
 Throughout my brain ; 
 But when no one is near, 
 I often can hear 
 Her voice that doth speak 
 
 In plaintive strain.
 
 1 6 ROSSL YN L YRICS. 
 
 My memory dwells 
 Where I heard the bells 
 From the old church tower 
 
 Ring sweet and clear ; 
 And methought while they rung, 
 That they chanted and sung 
 Of her who lives in 
 
 A brighter sphei-e ; 
 And then a replying 
 Came surging and sighing 
 So sad, and then dying 
 
 Softly away. 
 And her voice I did hear — 
 'Twas sweet to mine ear — 
 As she said, " Come now ! 
 
 Why do ye stay ? " 
 
 III. 
 
 And often at night, 
 
 As the fire burns bright. 
 
 When I think of her 
 
 Who sweetly spoke, 
 Then Elaine comes cheering. 
 All doubts and fears clearing, 
 Bringing sweet thoughts of 
 
 Life and of hope. 
 And ever and onward. 
 And upward and forward, 
 Her voice says, " Heavenward 
 
 Come unto me ! "
 
 JiOSSL VN L YRICS. 1 7 
 
 Yes ! when no one is near, 
 Her voice I oft hear : 
 Ah ! soon we will meet, 
 Elaine I'll see ! 
 
 THE EMIGRANTS NAME. 
 
 I'm far frae hame ! I'm far frae hame ! 
 
 Frae Scotlan' an' her hills ; 
 I hear nae mair the lintie sing, 
 
 Nor see the sparklin' rills. 
 My heart fills fu' wi' mony thochts, 
 
 I feci a numbing pain ; 
 For boyhood's days are a' awa', 
 
 They'll never come again. 
 
 I'm far frae hame ! I'm far frae hame 
 
 Oot here I'm snell an' cauld ; 
 My hair is white wi' age an' care, 
 
 I'm gettin' frail an' auld. 
 It seems just like a dream to me, — 
 
 I scarcely think it true — 
 But I am tott'rin' doun the brae, 
 
 I'll sune be lost to view.
 
 1 8 ROSSL YN L YRICS. 
 
 III. 
 
 I'm far frae hame ! I'm far frae hamc ! 
 
 Frae Scotia's rocky shore— 
 Oh ! for a waucht o' caller air, 
 
 An' sunny days galore ! 
 Oh ! for a sicht o' heathery braes — 
 
 To be at hame ance mair, 
 To meet a' roun' the ingleside — 
 
 My faither in his chair. 
 
 IV. 
 
 I'm far frae hame ! I'm far frae hame ! 
 
 An' ilk ana I lo'e dear ; 
 I feel at times a wean again, 
 
 An' oft let fa' a tear. 
 Ay ! ay ! it costs us mony pangs, 
 
 The ups an' douns o' life ; 
 It seems oor hale existence here 
 
 Was just a'e roun' o' strife. 
 
 I'm far frae hame ! I'm far frae hame ! 
 
 An' just like some auld tool 
 That's thrown aside, its day is dune — 
 
 I've sei"ved my time at schule. 
 An' now the young folk blithely laugh, 
 
 An' ding the auld aside ; 
 Alack a day ! it's sad to think 
 
 Hoc swift oor young days glide.
 
 JiOSSL YN L YRICS. 1 9 
 
 VI. 
 
 I'm far frae hame ! I'm far frae hame ! 
 
 An' gettin' wearied sair ; 
 I'm listenin' for the sough which tells 
 
 'Twill sune be ower wi' care. 
 Oh ! gin my heart was young again, 
 
 The warm bluid in my veins ! 
 The hoast an' croichle oot my throat, 
 
 An' supple were my banes ! 
 
 VII. 
 
 I'm far frae hame ! I'm far frae hame ! 
 
 My sun is in the west ; 
 The nicht is comin' near at haun' — 
 
 I'll sune be at my rest. 
 An' tho' a wanderer I hae been, 
 
 Noo crippled, tott'rin', lame, 
 I hope to dwell wi' frien's again 
 
 Abune, whaur is my hame. 
 
 BABY'S DEAD. 
 
 A JEWEL bright and rare 
 
 Set in a casket frail ; 
 A form too fragile, e'er 
 
 To stand a stormy gale. 
 A wee face white and pale, 
 
 A pair of sunny eyes. 
 Which radiance often shed — 
 
 But time all swiftly flies — 
 Baby's dead !
 
 ROSSL VN L YRICS. 
 
 Hands chubby, tiny, white, 
 
 Clasped at her mother's knee ; 
 Words flowing out at night 
 
 To Him of Galilee. 
 What beauties would she see 
 
 In that bright realm of gold, 
 Since from the earth she's fled 
 
 To join a better fold — 
 
 Baby's dead ! 
 
 A little prattling tongue 
 
 That babbled music sweet ; 
 While in and out there rung 
 
 A scampering of feet. 
 A joyous form to greet 
 
 A mother's weary heart — 
 Who sees an empty bed, 
 
 And feels a bitter smart — 
 Baby's dead ! 
 
 In distant, happy years, 
 
 Would dark clouds roll away, 
 And banish all her fears 
 
 With coming light of day ? 
 Who knows but what they ma>-, 
 
 And in the newer birth 
 She'll join alive o'erhead 
 
 One who was loved on earth- 
 Baby dead !
 
 ROSSL YN L YRICS. 
 
 SONG— MAGGIE IS NEAR. 
 
 I WILL travel the world in glee, 
 
 And forever happy I'll be ; 
 
 The' the storms may roar, 
 And the rain down pour. 
 
 For this is the reason why — 
 Because ever near, 
 To comfort and cheer, 
 
 My own love, Maggie, is nigh. 
 
 Let the sun shine ever so fair, 
 'Twill chase away sorrows and care ; 
 
 And then joys will flow 
 
 Wherever I go, 
 And all things bright will appear ; 
 
 For there is a face 
 
 Where love I can trace, 
 For Maggie dear will be near. 
 
 III. 
 
 I will build a house of my own, 
 While in't I'll not dwell alone ; 
 
 And there I will sing 
 
 As glad as a king. 
 While want will ne'er enter my door ; 
 
 And then a gay life 
 
 I'll spend with my wife. 
 And what could a man want more ? 
 
 B
 
 22 ROSSLYN LYRICS. 
 
 IV. 
 
 I'll plant in my garden with care, 
 Abundant flowers, exquisite, rare ; 
 
 And there, oft at night, 
 
 I'll walk with delight. 
 With one whom none can compare 
 
 For where will you see, 
 
 Wherever you be, 
 A flower like Maggie so fair ? 
 
 Oh ! sweet will our lives ever be. 
 
 In all things we'll ever agree ; 
 We'll never say " No "— 
 That's naughty, you know ; 
 
 We'll be a model to all. 
 And then if you come 
 Near our happy home, 
 
 I'm sure you're welcome to call ! 
 
 HE'S OVERHEAD. 
 
 Within a mansion, stately, great. 
 
 Where wealth had strewn her pearls fair, 
 
 A man, who owned a vast estate 
 
 Of lands around, both rich and rare — 
 
 Whose hair was white with age and care. 
 Was lying on a couch in state.
 
 ROSSL VN L YRICS. 23 
 
 A sob at times broke on the air, 
 
 From one who felt it loth to part 
 With him, whose summer here had fled — 
 
 A whisper came from out his heart — 
 " He's overhead !" 
 
 The stars were twinkling clear and bright, 
 
 The moon looked down with sober face, 
 And shed abroad a silvery light. 
 
 Till all the landscape you could trace. 
 It was a lovely, pretty place. 
 
 In hallowed, sweet and tender night, 
 While everything breathed forth a grace, 
 
 Which told that love still lingered here. 
 And had not from the earth yet fled — 
 
 A prayer stole upon mine ear — 
 
 " He's overhead !" 
 
 A gentle breeze from o'er the hills 
 
 Was wafted by an unseen hand ; 
 It kissed the laughing, gurgling rills, 
 
 And flow'rs which grew in meadow-land. 
 And like an hymn, sublime and grand. 
 
 Which all the air with music fills ; — 
 Of strains, as from a heavenly band, 
 
 I heard a song, angelic, rare. 
 And ev'ry note quite plainly said — 
 
 Oh ! love makes all things ever fair. 
 He's overhead ! 
 
 The stars all faded one by one. 
 
 As rising from her night of sleep 
 Aurora woke up with the sun, 
 
 And crystals from each flow'r did creep,
 
 24 ROSSL YN L YRICS. 
 
 As if the sunshine made them weep 
 
 To see another day begun. 
 Its rays shone on the ocean deep, 
 
 The seabirds screamed aloud in glee ; 
 On earth and ocean each one read 
 
 As on a scroll, this written free — 
 
 He's overhead ! 
 
 Fair children played about the bay, 
 
 Their laughter rippled by the shore, 
 And fled among the rocks away 
 
 Where shells lay piled — a goodly store. 
 And mothers thought of days of yore, 
 
 When all the world was light and gay, 
 For wondrous realms were them before — 
 
 Their hearts once more were full of love 
 Altho' their dazzling hopes had fled — 
 
 They knew that one reigned up above — 
 He's overhead ! 
 
 On many graves the green grass grew 
 
 In yonder churchyard by the hill ; 
 And friends are getting still more few, 
 
 And places empty hard to fill. 
 The little joyous silvery rill 
 
 Kept prattling to the birds which flew 
 Around the old deserted mill 
 
 Of bygone times and other days ; 
 But still in all things it did blend, 
 
 And uttered oft, as if in praise — 
 
 He's overhead ! 
 
 Throughout all Nature, ev'ry day 
 There runs a purpose firm and true ;
 
 ROSSLYN LYRICS. 
 
 From early j'outh, so bright and gay, 
 
 With hopes that time dispels from view, 
 Till life itself bids us adieu. 
 
 Our early joys fleet fast away. 
 With gladdest things we ever knew — 
 
 'Tis thus in every age and clime ; 
 And still this truth must ever spread 
 
 Throughout the world till end of time — 
 He's overhead ! 
 
 A WA Y IN THE WEST. 
 
 Away in the west a golden light's lingering 
 
 Like to the wings of an angel of light, 
 Shedding a radiance of delicate fingering. 
 
 And forming a world refulgent and bright. 
 
 And peacefully sleeping the hills seem enraptured, 
 Catching a glory which comes from afar ; 
 
 While down at their base too, the ocean has captured 
 A ray like a pure and glorious star. 
 
 Down in the valleys the grey mists are hovering. 
 Thin cloudy vapours which linger a while ; 
 
 Slowly progressing, still stealing and covering 
 The garlands of earth, till morning will smile. 
 
 Everything's beaming with great love and tenderness, 
 Fitfully only the winds sob and moan ; 
 
 And 'mong the bushes are seen webs of slenderness, 
 Gossamer threads which have fairylike grown.
 
 26 liOSSL VA' L YRICS. 
 
 Up in the heavens there dwelleth a hoHness 
 Which has imparted a calm to the earth ; 
 
 Speaking of happiness, while we in lowliness 
 Wander in gladness from boisterous mirth. 
 
 There is a happiness, mingled with tearfulness, 
 Thinking of years which have fled far away ; 
 
 While in our hearts we ofttimes have a fearfulness, 
 Longing yet dreading the coming of day. 
 
 Thicker the gloaming comes down while we wondering 
 Think of the beauties now veiled from our sight ; 
 
 Hid till the shadows of darkness are sundering. 
 Soon will Aurora break forth with delight ! 
 
 THE DILEMMA. 
 
 Sittin' lanely ! sittin' lanely ! 
 
 No a body near ; 
 Sittin' darnin' at my stockin's, 
 
 Scarce a soun' you'll hear. 
 It is dreadfu', ne'er a lassie 
 
 Wha will wed wi' me ; 
 Think you I am like a bogle 
 
 That they frae me flee ? 
 
 Sittin' sewin' ! sittin' sewin' ! 
 
 Tho' my heart is sair, 
 Jaggin', bleedin' twa three fingers- 
 
 'Deed I've plenty care.
 
 /iOSSL VN L YRICS. 27 
 
 What's come ower the bonny lassies 
 
 That I kent langsyne ? 
 Dressed oot trigfu', brawly buskit, 
 
 Lookin' superfine ! 
 
 Sittin' thinkin' ! sittin' thinkhi' ! 
 
 What's this vvorl' to me, 
 If I canna get a lassie 
 
 Wha's a mou' to pree ? 
 Hech ! I feel justjike a hermit 
 
 In this great big toun ; 
 Nane to ask me hoo I'm keepin' 
 
 When I'm sair cast doun ! 
 
 Sittin' lauchin' ! sittin' lauchin' ! 
 
 At a face I see, 
 Wha, I think, would hac some pity, 
 
 Be a frien' to me. 
 But I daurna tell my feelin's, 
 
 For I seem again 
 Like a wean wha tries the walkin' — 
 
 Canna gang alane. 
 
 Sittin' plannin' ! sittin' plannin' ! 
 
 Hoo to get a wife ; 
 Ane wha'll keep me braw an' cheery 
 
 As I gang thro' life. 
 Tell me, then, ye sonsie lassies, 
 
 What a man should dae, 
 When he canna ask the question, 
 
 Tho' a wife he'd hae .''
 
 28 ROSSL YN L YRICS. 
 
 THE SABBA TH DA Y. 
 
 I LOVE the quiet Sabbath day, 
 
 When the psahn 
 In liquid music floats 
 Afar in air, 
 
 Bringing a pleasing calm, 
 As birds from out their throats 
 Sing ever sweet and gay. 
 The wind blows softly where it lists, 
 
 The running brooklets babble on their way ; 
 Upon the hills are filmy mists. 
 Which float in masses gray. 
 A sacred stillness lingers in the air, 
 The world is all so bright and fair. ■ 
 While pearly diamonds gleam 
 And sparkle bright 
 Among the flowers near — 
 Like molten silver seem 
 Unspotted to the sight. 
 
 The people walk adown the street, 
 
 Faces glad. 
 Which tells of peace and love, 
 Full joyous sweet. 
 
 But some pure eyes are sad,
 
 JiOSSL VN L YRICS. 29 
 
 And like the clouds above 
 
 Which now are sailing fleet 
 
 With shadows dark, so there's a gloom 
 
 On their faces. 
 And some are old, 
 Who soon must pass again to bloom 
 Transplanted to the fold. 
 
 But yet they know 
 With whom they oft have been. 
 
 And who has washed each stain, 
 But whom they've not yet seen. 
 
 Inside the kirk true prayers arise 
 
 From a throng, 
 Whose fathers, good and brave. 
 Left happy ties, 
 
 And sang in solemn song, 
 And prayed to One to save. 
 And make His word arise, 
 And usher in the blessed day 
 
 When they no more, like beasts, would have to hide, 
 To steal, as branded men, away. 
 
 But all in Him abide. 
 Their canopy was but the sky above 
 Which o'er them often smiled in love. 
 
 And life some freely gave. 
 Who lie at rest, 
 Whose names are still unknown, 
 
 But, from many a grave 
 Fruit everlasting's grown.
 
 30 ROSSLYN LYRICS. 
 
 IV. 
 
 Oh ! calm and hallowed Sabbath day, 
 
 Ever dear ; 
 'Tis sweet to gaze at night, 
 When shadows gray 
 
 Steal round us aye more near. 
 And in the house how bright 
 When fathers kneel and pray, 
 With children at their mother's knee, 
 
 Who listen patiently to all that's said ; 
 While hushed are sound of mirth or glee 
 
 As they hear a chapter read. 
 These are, indeed, the homes where dwells content. 
 Where ev'ry day are blessings sent ! 
 
 Oh ! Sabbath hours how sweet 
 Art thou to me ! 
 When all is fair around. 
 
 And earth is smiling sweet. 
 For love this day has crowned ! 
 
 CHILDREN'S LA UGHTER. 
 
 I DELIGHT to hear the laughter 
 Of the children when at play ; 
 
 For it makes my heart feel merry, 
 And more lightsome all the day.
 
 ROSSLYN LYRICS. 
 
 Like the ripples of the sunshine 
 On a dark and dreary spot, 
 
 So are smiles from youthful beauty 
 On an old man who's for^rot. 
 
 II. 
 
 Like the singing of the zephyrs 
 
 Through the leafy woods in June ; 
 Like the carol of the linnet, 
 
 Or a sweet and welcome tune. 
 So I feel with children near me, 
 
 For they chase all care away ; 
 While they leave sweet thoughts behind them, 
 
 Make a weary heart feel gay. 
 
 III. 
 
 Oh ! I love to hear the laughter 
 
 Which comes hearty, pure, and free, 
 Bringing back the days of childhood 
 
 With an almost boyish glee. 
 I can see the purple heather 
 
 On the far off Scottish hills, 
 And can hear the dreamy murmur 
 
 From the clear and sparkling rills. 
 
 IV. 
 
 And like some majestic river. 
 With its mirrored waters clear ; 
 
 So I love the children's faces, 
 With desires that there appear.
 
 32 J^OSSL VN L YRICS. 
 
 And their chubby hands so tender, 
 When I clasp them in mine own, 
 
 Make the whole world teem with beauty, 
 And I feel no more alone. 
 
 V. 
 
 There is much in children's laughter- 
 
 There's a balm for ev'ry sore — 
 When we hear their tiny footsteps, 
 
 Then we love them all the more. 
 Yes ! the children are as flowers 
 
 Blooming ever round us here ; 
 And their voices as sweet music, 
 
 Tender, sweet, and ever dear. 
 
 THE LIBRARIAN'S CARNIVAL. 
 
 (In the Country — Morning.) 
 
 The sky was blushing 
 As clouds came rushing 
 Above the hill-tops 
 
 In early morn. 
 While the birds were singing 
 Sweet memories bringing ; 
 And the woods were ringing 
 
 For day was born !
 
 ROSSL YN L YRICS. 33 
 
 All the rills were laughing 
 And happiness quaffing, 
 And gurgled with daffing 
 
 While sparkling bright ! 
 The lambkins went straying 
 Near branches swaying ; 
 West winds whispering 
 
 Naught but delight ! 
 
 (In the City — Morning.) 
 
 A fog was hov'ring, 
 The city cov'ring 
 With a mantle grey — 
 
 A slender screen. 
 And the smoke was swirling, 
 And in long wreaths curling, 
 Like aerial feathers 
 
 On high were seen. 
 Large rain drops were falling, 
 While carters were bawling, 
 And shouting, and calling 
 
 With hoarse-voiced cries. 
 Many bells were ringing, 
 And workmen bringing 
 To toil and labour. 
 
 For time aye flies. 
 
 (In the Country— Evening.) 
 
 Lassies were singing 
 And flowers flinging 
 As they wended home 
 With faces bright.
 
 .34 ROSSL YN L YRICS. 
 
 And the lads were rushing 
 Where the waters gushing, 
 And sun's rays sparkled 
 
 With golden light ! 
 The cattle were wending 
 Their way slow, while blending 
 With daylight, and lending 
 
 A sombre hue. 
 The dark shadows lengthened, 
 Deepened, and strengthened 
 As daylight faded 
 
 And bade adieu ! 
 
 (In the City — Evening.) 
 
 The clouds were weeping, 
 While lamps were keeping 
 A watch like fire-flies 
 
 With dull red gleams. 
 Deserted-like, dreary, 
 The city seemed weary. 
 Sleeping uneasily 
 
 With troublous dreams. 
 And often a crying, 
 A sobbing and sighing 
 Of evil, came flying 
 
 Throughout the air. 
 At times came a moaning 
 And muffled groaning 
 From creatures who once 
 
 Were pure and fair.
 
 ROSSL YN L YRICS. 35 
 
 Hurrah ! hurrah ! for a holiday, 
 
 For a waft of the pure fresh air ; 
 For a few short hours in the country, 
 
 When the flowers are blooming fair. 
 
 Hurrah ! for the green and grassy banks, 
 
 For the smell of the scented thyme ; 
 To lie in the woods and hear the birds 
 
 Singing songs which seem all sublime ! 
 
 Hurrah ! for the hills where heather grows, 
 
 And the heath with its purple bell ; 
 With the rocky crags, whose rugged sides 
 
 Are all known to the shepherds well. 
 
 Hurrah ! for the beauties there revealed, 
 For the calm which prevails o'er all ; 
 
 With the larks which carol sweetest song. 
 And afar comes the plover's call. 
 
 Hurrah ! for a song when toil is done, 
 For a treat down in Queen Street Hall ; 
 
 Where the night flies past with merry tales, 
 Then hurrah ! for the Carnival ! 
 
 Hurrah ! for the Carnival to-night. 
 
 And hurrah ! for the merry songs ; 
 Hurrah ! for the laughter and the cries 
 
 Which to this meeting aye belongs. 
 
 Merry faces ! sober faces ! 
 
 Faces grave and bright ! 
 Plenty laughter, wit, and humour. 
 
 Joyous is the sight !
 
 36 ROSSL VN L YRICS. 
 
 Ladies whisper, eyes do sparkle 
 
 Clear as liquid stars ; 
 Happiness o'er all is beaming, 
 
 Nothing on it jars. 
 
 Hear the shouting and the clapping 
 
 Down in Queen Street Hall ; 
 But we can excuse the crying, 
 
 'Tis the Carnival ! 
 Like a ray of golden sunshine 
 
 On a lonely spot ; 
 So this meeting is a brightness 
 
 On Librarian's lot. 
 
 We will enter. Now we're seated, 
 
 Scan the faces well. 
 Young and old Librarians plenty, 
 
 Ages none can tell. 
 There are lady sup'rintendents. 
 
 Cheeks yet pale and white ; 
 But they'll get some colour shortly— 
 
 Carnival to-night ! 
 
 There's the chairman, merry party. 
 
 Ruddy face, blue eyes, 
 Smiles o'er all his face are rippling 
 
 As if in surprise. 
 Hush ! he speaks ; it is a story 
 
 Full of comic fun ; 
 Now the Carnival is opened. 
 
 And the ball's begun.
 
 ROSSLYN LYRICS. 37 
 
 Recitation— Tn-E Humorous Clergyman. 
 
 A clergyman upon a tour, 
 
 In search of health and good air pure, 
 
 Had travelled here, 
 
 And wandered there. 
 In places wondrous, strange and fair ; 
 
 By lovely glens, 
 
 Through moors and fens, 
 And hamlets rural, sleepy, calm ; 
 
 By gurgling burns, 
 
 By lanes and turns, 
 Where lovely sights brought healing balm. 
 
 And made his mind 
 
 More still refined, 
 Communing with sweet Nature bright, 
 
 Until he stood 
 
 In happy mood 
 In that quaint town of Dunse one night. 
 
 In every place there is, I ween, 
 A character aye to be seen. 
 
 Who shines by far 
 
 Like some clear star. 
 Which glistens in a golden sheen ; 
 
 And sparkles bright, 
 
 A brilliant sight, 
 To all who gaze afar on high. 
 
 And there was one, 
 
 Named William Dunn 
 A man when people came him nigh, 
 
 Would them beguile 
 
 By winning smile,
 
 38 ROSSLYN LYRICS. 
 
 And jokes which made the whole room ring ; 
 
 Or tell a tale 
 
 To make them pale, 
 And quite a wcirdness round them fling. 
 
 This clergyman, then, after tea, 
 Asked if a barber he could see. 
 
 The waiter ran 
 
 And brought a man 
 Whose eyes were full of fun and glee. 
 
 The shaving done. 
 
 Then William Dunn 
 Commenced his jokes and tales so rare, 
 
 Which chased that night 
 
 With laughter bright 
 All sorrows far, and cankered care ; 
 
 And wines were quaffed. 
 
 While each one laughed, 
 And all went merry for awhile ; 
 
 And quick and fast 
 
 An hour went past — 
 But human nature's full of guile. 
 
 This clergyman had wit and fun. 
 As well's the barber, William Dunn ; 
 
 He loved a joke, 
 
 Could talk and smoke, 
 And with the young folk races run. 
 
 And he could preach 
 
 As well as teach 
 In language which all understood. 
 
 So now, to-night. 
 
 He felt quite bright. 
 And asked the barber as he stood
 
 I^OSSL YN L YRICS 39- 
 
 To go away, 
 
 If he would stay 
 And earn a guinea in a trice ? — 
 
 " 'Twont take you long, 
 
 You're hale and strong, 
 Such chances don't come often twice. 
 
 " If you will jump o'er this chair here 
 For half-an-hour, and cry out clear, — 
 
 ' Well, here goes I, 
 
 My wife good-bye, 
 And ev'ry friend whom I love dear,' 
 
 You will obtain. 
 
 And by it gain 
 This guinea, so you can begin." 
 
 The barber smiled 
 
 As glad's a child. 
 And there resolved the coin to win. 
 
 So, smiling gay, 
 
 He hied away, 
 And then commenced to jump the chair ; 
 
 And cried aloud 
 
 As if a crowd 
 Stood round to see that all was fair ! 
 
 For full ten minutes all went well, 
 As merry as a marriage bell. 
 
 And William still 
 
 Leapt with a will, 
 And felt more glad than tongue can tell. 
 
 And " Here goes I, 
 
 My wife good-bye. 
 And ev'ry friend whom I love dear," 
 
 Was still his cry. 
 
 As time did fly
 
 40 ROSSLYN LYRICS. 
 
 And brought his guinea aye more near. 
 
 But all in vain 
 
 He leapt to gain 
 The guinea which near to him lay — 
 
 Joys fleet and die 
 
 Like clouds which fly 
 Upon a sunny April day ! 
 
 The clergyman, eyes brimming o'er, 
 Here rung the bell, when to the door 
 
 The waiter came, 
 
 His smile the same, 
 But stood amazed at the uproar. 
 
 " Now, sir, it's clear. 
 
 You'll cost me dear 
 By bringing such a fool in here, 
 
 And "— " Here goes I, 
 
 My wife good-bye, 
 And ev'ry friend whom I love dear." 
 
 Then o'er the chair 
 
 Will leapt with care, 
 Unheeding what the waiter said. 
 
 Who looked quite dazed. 
 
 With eyebrows raised. 
 Until, at last, he turned and fled ! 
 
 Into the room the landlord came, 
 Wrath in his eyes, his nose aflame. 
 
 And with a stride 
 
 He stood beside 
 The barber, leaping still the same, 
 
 But " Here goes I, 
 
 My wife good-bye,
 
 /^OSSL VN L YRICS. 4 1 
 
 And ev'ry friend whom I love dear," 
 
 Was all he got 
 
 From Will, who fought 
 And kept his course as yet all clear. 
 
 When rushing in 
 
 'Mid shouts and din 
 With eyes all red with bitter tears. 
 
 His wife came fast 
 
 And quickly cast 
 Her arms around him full of fears. 
 
 " Oh ! Willie, why this dreadfu' steer ; 
 Ha'e a' your senses left you here ? 
 
 Oh !"—" Here goes I, 
 
 My wife good-bye, 
 And ev'ry friend whom I love dear." — 
 
 " What's wrang ava, 
 
 Oh ! come awa, 
 The bairnies noo are a' asleep 
 
 But little Kate, 
 
 Wha sits up late 
 To meet you." Here his wife did weep, 
 
 And sobbed aloud 
 
 Amid a crowd 
 Of people, who stood all around, 
 
 Who sympathise 
 
 With groans and sighs, 
 But William firmly kept his ground. 
 
 " My heart will break, come hame wi' me. 
 It's long since I ha'e mask't your tea. 
 
 What's wrang ata' ? 
 
 Oh ! come awa.
 
 ROSSLYN LYRICS. 
 
 And stop your pranks — I'm like to die." 
 
 But sweeping by 
 
 He still did cry 
 The words so plain that all could hear — 
 
 " Well, here goes I, 
 
 My wife good-bye, 
 And ev'ry friend whom I love dear." — 
 
 With brow of care. 
 
 Will leapt the chair, 
 Determined now to do or die ! 
 
 His heart beat fast, 
 
 As he oft cast 
 A glance to see how time did fly. 
 
 His wife her arms around him flung, 
 And to him earnestly she clung, 
 
 And barred his way 
 
 And made him stay, 
 While plying all her strength of tongue. 
 
 Tho' William tried 
 
 To push aside 
 Her arms, his course he had to stay ; 
 
 And with a face 
 
 Where you could trace 
 Vexation in a great degree, 
 
 He turned about, 
 
 And with a shout 
 Soon spoke aloud words bold and free. 
 
 " Oh ! wife, you've fairly done me noo, 
 But you've as muckle's me to rue ! 
 
 But let's gae wa'. 
 
 You're just a staw,
 
 ROSSL YN L YRICS. 43 
 
 I've lost a gowden guinea new." 
 
 And with a heart 
 
 Just like to part 
 With sorrow, William hied away. 
 
 But late that night 
 
 All was made right ; 
 And he himself felt once more gay. 
 
 And then away 
 
 In early day 
 The clergyman of wit and fun, 
 
 Was speeding fast, 
 
 But often cast 
 A backward thought on William Dunn ! 
 
 As waves of the ocean, 
 
 For ever in motion ; 
 
 Now forwards, then backwards, 
 
 Which never stand still. 
 So surging and crying, 
 The people defying 
 Restraint of all kinds 
 
 Broke forth with a will. 
 No sleeping or napping. 
 But cheering and clapping 
 Of hands, with a rapping 
 
 Of sticks, went on. 
 And faces were beaming, 
 With eyes brightly gleaming ; 
 Joy reigned triumphant, 
 
 All sorrows gone ! 
 But the chairman waving 
 His hand, began craving 
 Indulgence a little, 
 
 As silence fell.
 
 44 ROSSL YN L YRICS. 
 
 And like zephyrs sighing 
 Through the woods, came flying 
 A murmur dissenting, 
 
 But all went well. 
 For a pretty creature, 
 Both in dress and feature, 
 And a silent preacher 
 
 Of ev'ry grace, 
 Came forward 'mid cheering 
 Of people ne'er fearing, 
 And carolled sweetly 
 
 With rosy face. 
 
 ^i3«^^The Days that are Gone. 
 
 Air — "The Flowers o' the Forest." 
 I. 
 
 The day may be dreary, an' winds soughin' weary 
 And moanin', complainin' in Dryden's deep vales. 
 
 And rains may be fallin', 
 
 \Vi' loud thunders callin'. 
 And ilk thing aroun' me be trembling wi' gales ; 
 Sweet Nature a' sighing, clouds may be flying. 
 And spreadin' the heav'ns wi' their dark broodin' sails. 
 
 Yet still I will treasure 
 
 And think of wi' pleasure, 
 My Willie who cheer'd me wi' heart stirrin' tales. 
 
 When the birds are singing, and the woods are ringing. 
 The sun o'er the Pentlands retiring from sight ;
 
 ROSSLYN LYRICS. 45 
 
 And shadows are creepin', 
 
 In dark corners sleepin', 
 And fleecy clouds soarin' a' crimson and bright, 
 A glint o' my dearie kept me aye cheery, 
 And made my heart thud wi' a strange, fond delight. 
 
 Sae kind and forbearin', 
 
 Yet lovin' an' darin', 
 He stole a' my senses, and dazzled me quite. 
 
 III. 
 
 When gloaming descendin' comes down, and is blendin' 
 The beauties o' night wi' the garlands o' day, 
 
 I feel o'er me stealin' 
 
 A wonderful feel in' , 
 And long to be rovin' wi' one far away. 
 But now, and for ever, my joys must sever, 
 Tho' yet I can hear him laugh happy and gay. 
 
 But pleasures are flying, 
 
 Then what use of sighing ? 
 We grasp at a phantom, and can't make it stay. 
 
 She finish'd her singing. 
 And the Hall was ringing 
 With hearty plaudits 
 
 From one and all. 
 And then a Mechanic, 
 With face Titianic, 
 Came forth at the chairman's 
 
 Request and call. 
 His voice was sonorous, 
 And seem'd like a chorus. 
 It came rushing o'er us — 
 
 An unseen wave.
 
 46 ROSSLYN LYRICS. 
 
 'Twas nought but a story, 
 With no deeds of glory, 
 But a simple tale, 
 To all he eave. 
 
 A Funny Mistake. 
 
 There's funny mistakes made ilk ane maun agree, 
 An' here is a story my faither tauld me 
 When I was a callan', an' ran 'bout the braes, 
 An' gather'd the brambles, an' sometimes the slaes. 
 
 Says my faither to me, " Weel, Geordie, ye ken, 
 
 Awa at the head o' yon bonnie wee glen, 
 
 Whaur the burnie comes doun wi' a lauchin-like soun', 
 
 As if a bit sang to itsel' it did croon ; 
 
 There lived in yon dwellin' which staun's a' its lane, 
 
 A woman who puir folk would never disdain. 
 
 Say frank aye an' hearty, a cheery bit wife, 
 
 Wha ne'er was in hot water ance a' her life. 
 
 A hard workin' body, she kept a braw coo, 
 A dog an' a cuddie, wi' hens no' a few ; 
 A pig which kept gruntin' throughout ilka day. 
 To chase for itsel' a' the silence away. 
 
 This wife was a widow, a couthy, braw dame, 
 Wi' twa bonnie callan's, but ane o' them lame ; 
 The ane drove the cuddie to market each day. 
 An' that — let me see, now — was three miles away. 
 An' aye the bit body she warstled awa. 
 An' kept her ain dwellin' aye dacent an' braw.
 
 /?OSSL YN L YRICS. 47 
 
 The minister ae day stept into her house, 
 They crackit awa baith fu' hearty an' crouse ; 
 They spak' o' the weather, the airt o' the win', 
 An' Adam's transgression, what led him to sin; 
 They spak' o' their neebours, o' Johnnie an' Kate, 
 Wha oft thro' the country stravaiged gey late. 
 The widow she tauld him the price o' the meal, 
 An' spak' aye o' somebody wha wasna week 
 She mentioned her Tom.my, an' spak o' her Will, 
 An' then (when near breathless), her scandal a' still, 
 She said her puir Robin was terribly bad 
 (She sighed unco deeply, looked up at him sad). 
 " No able for workin', he trauchles aboot. 
 An' roun' his sair leg I ha'e tied a bit cloot, 
 Wi' honey an' bees wax to mak' it hale sune — 
 But Robin, I'm doubtin', 'ill never mair run." 
 
 The minister wondered wha Robin could be. 
 For ane o' that name he ne'er minded to see. 
 Howe'er, ere depairtin', he sent up a prayer, 
 An' houped that this mishap would Robin prepare 
 To see that the pleasures o' life couldna last. 
 For time was aye comin' to ilka ane fast. 
 He prayed that a blessin' his sair leg micht prove. 
 An' oh ! may it please Thee, his illness remove. 
 He prayed for the widow, the Kirk, an' the State, 
 The rich an' the lowly, the puir an' the great. 
 He ended at last wi' a sort o' a sigh, 
 Then turned to the widow an' bade her good-bye. 
 The minister daun'ered awa' to his hame. 
 An' quickly in sicht o' his dwellin' he came ; 
 He entered it blithely, an' sat himsel' doun'. 
 Removed frae his feet next his puir o' guid shoon.
 
 ROSSLYN LYRICS. 
 
 Then on wi' his slippers, the tea was brocht ben, 
 Syne he spiert at the wife, " Noo, Mary, my hen, 
 Wha is't that's ca'ed Robin, wha lives i' the glen 
 Wi' Widow Macfarlane, for I dinna ken." 
 
 The wife cried out, " Robin ! losh ! wha can he be ? 
 
 But Robhi, that's funny — but just stop a wee. 
 
 What for are ye spierin' ? " " Because he's no' weel— 
 
 I'm sure for oor neebours we aye ocht to feel. 
 
 I offered a prayer, when comin' awa, 
 
 Concernin' his illness — wha's Robin at a' .'' " 
 
 " I ken wha he's noo na. You sent up a prayer ! 
 
 I'm sure, weel, the next time, you'll need to tak care, 
 
 For just let me tell you — you're hardly to blame, 
 
 But Robin's the cuddie — you ocht to think shame." 
 
 Like two rivers meeting 
 And giving a greeting, 
 To flow on together 
 
 United strong. 
 So there was a roaring 
 Of latent strength pouring, 
 From hundreds of voices, 
 
 From out the throng. 
 It rippled, and flying 
 Unnoticed, went crying 
 Resistless and sighing 
 
 With mighty strength. 
 But a silence falling, 
 At the chairman's calling 
 The Mechanic arose 
 
 And spoke at length.
 
 ROSSLYN LYRICS. 49 
 
 Hearing the Sermon. 
 
 I'm sure 3'ouVe heard tell o' wee bowed Jamie Spiers, 
 
 Who's been a Librarian for seventeen years ; 
 
 But yet he's a want o' respect for the Kirk, 
 
 As dour, on some points, as a hard driven stirk. 
 
 The minister cam' whiles an' crackit awa, 
 'Bout this thing an' that thing^'twould ne'er do at a' ; 
 Tho' Jamie could argue, quote scraps o' queer Greek, 
 On points o' religion he seldom would speak. 
 
 However, it happened, he said he would gang 
 To the kirk if they'd sing a sensible sang, 
 Or gi'e him a sermon, an' ane that would keep — 
 Which needs must be lively, or likely he'd sleep. 
 
 When Sunday cam' round then, awa' Jamie went, 
 Ahint him the hale air was filled fu' o' scent ; 
 While mony folk giggled an' stared in surprise. 
 An' turned up the whites o' their een to the skies. 
 
 I dinna ken hoo it was, Jamie was late, 
 But some would ascribe this, like Moslems, to Fate, 
 An' gang awa sighin' an' shakin' their heads — 
 I think there's in this worl' just ower mony creeds. 
 
 Neist mornin' I met him gaun rowin' alang, 
 His legs, like his voice, had been years off the fang. 
 I spoke to him blithely, an' asked for his hens. 
 His sheep an' his grunters, an' gudeness a' kens. 
 
 The Kirk it came next. When I asked him the text, 
 The body looked puzzled, an' seemed to be vext ; 
 But sune he made answer, an' said, " I was late ; 
 What could a text matter ? — I liket my seat."
 
 so 
 
 ROSSL YN L YRICS. 
 
 Thinks I to mysel', noo this looks unco queer, 
 But I shall no' stop tho', but something else spier ; 
 So "what did he wind up wi', Jamie?" quo' I — 
 At this he emitted a dolorous sigh. 
 
 " I'll tell you the truth, I was late o' gaun in. 
 An' heardna the minister his wark begin ; 
 So tiring o' listenin', I slippit awa 
 Afore he was done, — couldna stand it at a'." 
 
 " Please tell me then, Jamie, what was't that he said 
 The time you were in?" — Here he hung down his head. 
 " As sure as I'm leevin', 'twas doubtless sublime, 
 I ne'er heard a word o't — T slept a^ the time /" 
 
 Attitudinising 
 
 Went on, ev'n surprising 
 
 The Mechanic himself. 
 
 Who often smiled. 
 But Jamie was glooming, 
 'Mid fair faces blooming. 
 And blushing with roses. 
 
 For he felt " riled." 
 His glances went stealing 
 With rancorous feeling ; 
 While his brain seemed reeling 
 
 With ire suppress'd. 
 But an old man beaming 
 With smiles, and seeming 
 A happy being 
 
 Now us address'd.
 
 7?0SSL YN L YRICS. 
 
 Recitation — OOR Stair. 
 
 It's a wonderfu' place, I ween, 
 
 The fit o' oor entry at nicht, 
 When there's scarcely a mune to be seen. 
 
 An' hardly the glint o' a licht. 
 You're aye sure to find a bit lass 
 
 Wi' a face to match a red rose — 
 Altho' it be frosty and cauld, 
 
 Hard enough to freeze ony nose. 
 
 It's something like near thirty years 
 
 Since first I got married, ye ken ; 
 Hech me ! it oft seems like a dream. 
 
 To think o' the time gane since then. 
 To tell you a secret or twa — 
 
 But dinna gi'e me such a stare — 
 My Sarah and I met each nicht, 
 
 Doon by at the fit o' the stair. 
 
 We had nae long walkings at nicht, 
 
 Stravaigin' awa here an' there ; 
 Tho' sometimes we'd tak a bit jaunt 
 
 By green fields and breath the fresh air. 
 At last we got married, an' noo 
 
 I've weans, but what do they care .'' 
 They're grown up, an' meet (like oursel's 
 
 Langsyne) at the fit o' the stair. 
 
 An' sometimes I hear a bit smack, 
 
 An' syne a bit geegle or twa ; 
 Hech ! I wish my young days were back, 
 
 But time's stown them noo a' awa'.
 
 FOSSL VN L YRICS. 
 
 Yet still I am happy — content, 
 Ye ken, we should never despair ; 
 
 There's ane wha's bit mou' I whiles pree, 
 As I did langsyne at the stair ! 
 
 An' lasses and lads will aye meet, 
 
 An' love will aye ha'e its ain way 
 Till they get a house o' their ain, 
 
 An' that tak's gude money to pay. 
 Still I like to see the bit lads, 
 
 Their lasses decked out braw an' fair, 
 Whispering joyous, while standin' 
 
 For hours at the fit o' the stair. 
 
 But sin is defiling, 
 So Jamie was smiling 
 As he stept up quickly 
 
 On to the stage. 
 And around him glancing 
 He saw bright eyes dancing 
 With fun, which filled him 
 
 With inward rage. 
 Like an old branch swinging, 
 And ghostly fears bringing, 
 Or as cracked bell ringing 
 
 So seem'd his voice ; 
 And we listen'd amazed 
 (A few of us dazed) 
 While he spoke aloud — 
 
 His theme, new choice.
 
 ROSSLYN LYRICS. 53 
 
 The Mechanical Man. 
 
 A youngish chiel wha ance was braw, 
 
 A man whom Nature made a staw — 
 
 Librarian X. 
 
 His footsteps fa' wi'thumpin' clash, 
 As if the floor he fain would smash — 
 Librarian X. 
 
 His face is long, his een are sma', 
 An'' scarce a wink he sees at a' — 
 
 Librarian X. 
 
 He peers into ilk body's face — 
 His ain is aften oot its place- 
 Librarian X. 
 
 He gangs wi' hands ahint his back, 
 An' keeps us ever on the rack — 
 
 Librarian X. 
 
 An' whiles he tries to hum a sang, 
 His voice, alas ! is aff the fang — 
 
 Librarian X. 
 
 He sometimes tries to whistle too, 
 But he has little else to do — 
 
 Librarian X. 
 
 He whummles here and wanders there, 
 As if ower a' he took gude care — 
 
 Librarian X. 
 
 D
 
 54 ROSSL YN L YRICS. 
 
 He shuns the books, but counts his "tin"- 
 We ca' him aft a man o' sin — 
 
 Librarian X. 
 
 We dae the wark, he tak's his rest, 
 For, oh ! he lo'es the money best — 
 Librarian X. 
 
 He flytes as gude's an auld fishwife, 
 But he himsel' keeps oot o' strife — 
 
 Librarian X. 
 
 An' at his nose whiles hangs a drap, 
 A fozey, thowless-looking chap — 
 
 Librarian X. 
 
 There's mony men we a' could want, 
 An' there is ane whom nane could daunt — 
 Librarian X. 
 
 We wish he'd tak his wizzened face 
 Frae oot the toon an' leave the place — 
 Librarian X. 
 
 But ills we here maun suffer a' — 
 There's ane we canna thole at a' — 
 
 Librarian X. 
 
 Still we will trust to see him gang 
 Frae us awa' — he's lived ower lang — 
 Librarian X.
 
 ROSSL YN L YRICS. 5 5 
 
 Like the thunder crashiiTj, 
 So past us came flashing 
 A book with a whizzing, 
 
 Which dashed swift by. 
 It struck Jamie standing, 
 And on his face landing, 
 It made his eyes sparkle 
 
 Like stars on high. 
 
 Others came hurrying 
 While leaves were flurrying. 
 Everywhere scurrying. 
 
 Over the hall. 
 And Jamie replying, 
 Returned books shying 
 With aim unerring — 
 
 Bright Carnival ! 
 
 Librarian X stood 
 
 In his injured manhood. 
 
 And book after book went 
 
 Straight to the mark. 
 Jamie's eyes were swelling, 
 And salt tears were welling, 
 While people were leaving — 
 
 The hall now dark. 
 
 Like a great wind sighing, 
 And sobbing, and crying. 
 Still missiles went flying 
 
 Till all were done. 
 And then each retreated. 
 Neither defeated, 
 Confident both had 
 
 The victory won.
 
 5 6 ROSSL YN L YRICS. 
 
 As each one home wended 
 From Carnival ended, 
 They talked to each other 
 
 In merry strain. 
 As the stars were shining, 
 The moon seemed reclining 
 On cloudlets phantomlike, 
 
 Pure, without stain. 
 
 The Tron bell was ringing. 
 And zephyrs were singing ; 
 While the lamps were flinging 
 
 A lustrous light. 
 Farewell ! to the meeting, 
 Time's flying — is fleeting ; 
 And shaking your hands, 
 
 We say Good-night ! 
 
 LASSIVADE REVISITED. 
 
 Rambling once more in the village olden, 
 
 Where many a happy day was spent ; 
 Where now, from on high, the sun's rays golden 
 
 Shine on the spots I loved to frequent. 
 I think of the time when school was over, 
 
 As I ran with comrades glad at play ; 
 And the' I have wandered, been a rover, 
 
 Rarely have I been so blest and gay.
 
 ROSSLYN LYRICS. S7 
 
 There is the river, flowing on ever, 
 
 Its waters tinged with a murky red ; 
 Where the moonbeams love at night to quiver, 
 
 As the clouds sail stately overhead. 
 Playmates many, the good and true-hearted, 
 
 Have pass'd with a song to joys unseen ; 
 While I am here, who with them have parted. 
 
 Of my boyhood friends alone I glean ! 
 
 Passing the school I can hear fresh voices 
 
 Singing a song to an old quaint tune ; 
 And my heart within me yet rejoices, 
 
 For sadly I feel tho' life's at noon. 
 My youthful years have been as the sighing 
 
 Of winds which have sped and died away ; 
 And left me now with an inward crying, 
 
 While the salt tears dim mine eyes to-day. 
 
 Down in my breast there's a strange emotion ; 
 
 I seem to stand in my class once more, 
 And hear a noise like that of the ocean 
 
 When dashing against a rock-bound shore. 
 O dear old days ! how for them I'm longing — 
 
 Days which are gone, yet I wish again ; 
 And still fond memory's fount is thronging 
 
 With bygone thoughts, tho' of joy and pain. 
 
 Silence lingers, and is now unbroken. 
 
 The village seems to sleep and dream ; 
 Telling to none, and giving no token 
 
 What is the pleasing or mournful theme. 
 The world moves round, and dear ties must sever, 
 
 Our hearts get refined with grief and pain ; 
 We would keep the sweets and leave them never, 
 
 Yet a gladness cometh after rain.
 
 58 ROSSLYN LYRICS. ■ 
 
 And still, Lassvvade ! I in fancy linger 
 
 When far away, in thy village calm ; 
 And I often hear a sweet harbinger — 
 
 The solemn chant of an evening psalm. 
 The shadows creep, and the night is blending, 
 
 And clasping hands with departing day ; 
 While stars peep forth, all their beauty lending, 
 
 As I slowly wend from thee away. 
 
 MY SISTER AND I. 
 
 I'm no' often angry, an' rarely you'll meet 
 A lass like mysel' wi' a temper as sweet. 
 I'm wee, but folk tell me the best o' a' gear 
 In sma's is weel boukit, so nane need me jeer. 
 
 My face is gey bonnie, weel-featured, ye ken, 
 It pleases mysel', an' it smiles on the men. 
 My sister torments me, an' drives me near mad, 
 Because I whiles speak to a dacent bit lad. 
 
 Noo, just to speak plainly, ha'e sense for a wee. 
 What's wrang wi' my sister aft whiles puzzles me 
 She's aulder than me tho', an' bonnie an' a', 
 An' yet she's still single — the men are a staw ! 
 
 Some lads they will gang wi' a lass wha's a face 
 Like a washed-oot bit cloot, ne'er think it disgrace. 
 The heart is a problem, plays won'erfu' pranks, 
 An' Cupid, the rascal ! gets very i&w thanks.
 
 ROSSLYN LYRICS. 59 
 
 I dinna like talkin' avva 'bout mysel' 
 (My sister whiles tells me my tongue's like a bell) — 
 She's gifted hersel, na, can talk braw an' crouse, 
 When I'm sittin' silent, as quiet as a mouse. 
 
 There's a callan' I ken — a braw, comely chiel — 
 Weel featured an' dacent, gude-lookin' atweel ; 
 I think he's a fancy to me na himsel' — 
 Bu\: man is as fickle as woman hersel'. 
 
 I whiles get a paper, a book at odd times, 
 An' in them are written the funniest rhymes ; 
 They set me oft lauchin', my sister an' a', — 
 I'm like to split aften, maist roun' as a ba'. 
 
 I think I've a weakness for ane like himsel. 
 He keeps aye sae cheery, just like my ainsel. 
 My sister aye bothers an' pesters me sair. 
 An if 'twasna for him, I'd dee in despair. 
 
 Love's stronger than water, an' thicker than bluid. 
 An' folk while in this state, forget to tak fuid ; 
 My sister's no married, I think I can see 
 What mak's her sae angry tormentin' aye me. 
 
 Because she's no married, she wants to keep me 
 Awa frae my sweetheart, but that will ne'er be ; 
 Whenever he asks me to keep his bit hoose, 
 I'll craw ower my sister, baith hearty an' crouse.
 
 6o JiOSSL VN L YRICS. 
 
 THE PENTLAND HILLS. 
 
 I CAN hear the flute-voiced plover 
 'Mong the purple heath-clad hills, 
 
 Crying clear, 
 
 Sweet to hear. 
 Just beside the laughing rills, 
 
 As they foam, 
 
 And do roam 
 Through the glens all lovely, calm. 
 Where in days gone by one saw 
 Sights which filled stout hearts with awe 
 
 Yet arose 
 
 'Midst great woes, 
 The solemn chant of martyr's psalm ! 
 
 Heathery hills, steeped in grandeur. 
 Could you speak what tales you'd tell ! 
 Great deeds done, 
 Vict'ries won, 
 With the cries of those who fell- 
 Men who wrought, 
 Nobly fought, 
 To put" down a tyrant's cause. 
 And their blood was freely shed. 
 Thousands mingled with the dead — 
 Gained the crown 
 Of renown. 
 Ere dawned upon them freedom's laws. 
 
 Rullion Green, once famed in story, 
 Underneath thy sod there lies
 
 ROSSL YN L YRICS. 6 1 
 
 Martyrs brave — 
 
 Men who gave 
 Hearts as well as kindred ties ! 
 
 But tho' dead 
 
 There has sped 
 From their lives a forward wave 
 Of religion, which yet sweeps 
 O'er the land that treasures, keeps 
 
 Thoughts of those 
 
 In repose, 
 Sleeping quiet in unknown grave. 
 
 Joy and sorrow meet together 
 As I wander here and there. 
 
 While I seem 
 
 In a dream — 
 Everything's so bright and fair. 
 
 Peace now reigns, 
 
 Happy swains 
 Wander in their youthful love ; 
 
 All is calm, 
 
 Bringing balm 
 With peace around and up above ! 
 
 THE RAIN. 
 (After E. A. Poe's "The Bells.") 
 
 See the falling of the rain — 
 April rain ! 
 
 Coming gently downwards to refresh the earth again. 
 And you hear it pittar-patter 
 'Mong the leaves which clothe the trees.
 
 62 /^OSSL YN L YRICS. 
 
 While the sparrows chirp in chorus, 
 As the shower keeps pouring o'er us, 
 
 In dehght, as if to please. 
 
 " I have more, more, more 
 
 For you people yet in store " — 
 Seems to say a million voices in a delicate refrain 
 
 From the rain, rain, rain, rain, 
 Rain, rain, rain. 
 Falling everywhere in forest, glen, and plain ! 
 
 See the mist which cometh down 
 
 From the hills ! 
 Rolling swiftly o'er the country, kissing all the rills. 
 Onward, onward, thus it goes, 
 While the west wind softly blows. 
 Then hear the crows 
 Holding converse 'mong the trees. 
 In a language neither pleasant nor in tune, 
 Goodness knows ! 
 While the mist it soaks us through 
 With its nasty, penetrating, thorough drenching dew- 
 Mountain dew 
 Ever new, 
 Caring not for girl or boy. 
 But in all it seems to joy, 
 And delights to make us hasten 
 (They can stay who list). 
 Oh ! the mist, mist, mist, mist, 
 What discomfort oft it gives us, doth the mist ! 
 
 See the heavy drops of rain, 
 
 Thund'rous rain ! 
 
 And the clouds are speeding quickly 'bove the plain. 
 Soon you hear the thunder roar, 
 Louder than the waves at shore.
 
 ROSSLYN LYRICS. 63 
 
 In a deaf ning stunning peal, 
 
 Which makes some frighten'd feel, 
 At the sound. 
 All the heavens darken'd o'er us, covered up with solemn pall. 
 As th' artillery goes crashing, making heavy rain drops fall. 
 How they glisten, glisten, glisten, 
 While people listen, listen 
 To the peals which come in crashes 
 Close behind lightning flashes — 
 Fire and air in great commotion ! 
 While the rain, rain, rain, 
 Seems the thunder to disdain. 
 
 For it pours. 
 And along the gutters wide 
 Flows a dark and turbid tide ; 
 And it eddies back and forwards at its shores. 
 Till at last its wrath is spent. 
 And in sorrow 
 Seems to borrow 
 Penitent a little hght. 
 And the sun peeps thro' the clouds, 
 As the thunder hies away, 
 With a rumble 
 And a grumble 
 Like an enemy at bay. 
 And the air is cool and pleasant, while the birds sing sweet 
 again 
 
 To the rain. 
 Thund'rous rain, rain, rain, rain. 
 Rain, rain, rain — 
 All the earth rejoices, smiling o'er the rain.
 
 64 ROSSLYN LYRICS. 
 
 THE A ULD FOLK. 
 
 The kind auld folk I kent langsyne 
 
 Are deein' fast awa ; 
 An' slidin' gently doon the brae, 
 
 \Vi' hair as white as snaw. 
 I liked to hear them crack awa, 
 
 Fu' couthie, frank, an' free ; 
 An' tell about their former days, 
 
 Wi' half a boyish glee. 
 
 II. 
 
 Ay ! ay ! the auld folk quickly gang, 
 
 An' fade frae oot cor sicht ; 
 Their gude auld-farrant tongues nae mair 
 
 We hear them wag at nicht ; 
 An' bonnie weans, wi' curly hair, 
 
 Wha lo'ed their granpa weel ; 
 Each learn the frost o' early spring — 
 
 First sorrows when they feel. 
 
 III. 
 
 The dear auld folk wha sat beside 
 
 The ingleside at e'en ; 
 Hoo mony lie beneath the sod ; 
 
 Hoo mony graves are green ! 
 Oor hearts a stounin' pain aft feels, 
 
 To think nae mair we'll hear ; 
 The honest, hearty phrase of truth, 
 
 An' kindly word o' cheer.
 
 ROSSLYN LYRICS. 6$ 
 
 IV, 
 
 We wander but-an'-ben the house, 
 
 Fu' dowie, doun wi' care — 
 For oh ! we miss the dear auld folk, 
 
 We see the empty chah-. 
 Ay ! there's the Book they lo'ed sae wecl, 
 
 An' aften used to read ; 
 An' there's the stick, — a trusty frien', 
 
 Which never mair they'll need. 
 
 We gang beside each glen an' brae, 
 
 We kent in days gane by ; 
 An' wander up an' doun the street — 
 
 Ah me ! how time doth fly ! 
 Familiar forms how few we meet 
 
 Beside the ripplin' burn — 
 It's strange hoo mony folk we miss. 
 
 Which ever way we turn. 
 
 VI. 
 
 The auld kirkyaird is quiet an' still. 
 
 Where dead in silence lie ; 
 The wind moans by the grassy graves. 
 
 With plaintive, moaning sigh. 
 The bairns aft pluck the gowans sweet, 
 
 Frae aft their juicy stem ; 
 The auld folk are a' wede awa 
 
 To grace His diadem.
 
 66 ROSSLYN LYRICS. 
 
 VII. 
 
 A blcssin' on the leal auld folk, 
 Whose cares are ower at last ; 
 
 They've warstled oot the road awa', 
 A peace they've gained at last. 
 
 Then kindly speak where'er you be- 
 To auld folk aye be true ; 
 
 For age is takin' them awa', 
 An' comin' fast to you. 
 
 THE SPIRIT OF NIGHT. 
 
 Sin woke from her slumbers deep, 
 
 From a dreamless, golden sleep ; 
 And her eyes were bright, 
 Of a ruby light — 
 
 She never could sigh nor weep. 
 And her face was fair, 
 And made to ensnare 
 
 The people o'er all the earth. 
 She was always young. 
 And her accents rung, 
 
 In the very haunts of mirth ! 
 
 The stars were studding the sky, 
 And glittering pure on high ; 
 
 As there sped a ray 
 
 Like the light of day.
 
 ROSSLYN LYRICS. 67 
 
 As the form of Sin went by 
 
 In a robe of white 
 
 With emeralds bright, 
 But the wind with plaintive sigh, 
 
 And a long-drawn moan, 
 
 In sorrowful tone. 
 Wept aloud with anguish sore, 
 
 For it knew that Sin 
 
 Where she entered in, 
 Left misery evermore ! 
 
 On her forehead gleam'd a light — 
 A diamond which glitter'd bright. 
 
 And shone like a star, 
 
 'Twas seen from afar ; 
 For Sin loved beautiful night. 
 
 For it hid her deeds. 
 
 All her vile misdeeds ; 
 And covered them up from sight. 
 
 Yet her cruel face 
 
 Has a wondrous grace. 
 To lead men from truth and right. 
 
 She left a terrible stain. 
 Followed by anguish and pain 
 
 Wherever she went. 
 
 All her time was spent 
 In adding men to her train. 
 
 The rich and the poor 
 
 She both made impure, 
 And smiled while she wrought the ill ; 
 
 And her heart, alas ! 
 
 Was as hard as brass. 
 And no tears could change her will.
 
 ROSSLYN LYRICS. 
 
 Into a cottage she crept 
 
 Where a creature worn-out slept, 
 
 And adown his cheeks 
 
 There were seen dark streaks, 
 For long and bitter he'd wept 
 
 O'er his awful sin, 
 
 Tho' he strove to win, 
 And steal from the fiend away ; 
 
 But she held him tight 
 
 Far away from sight, 
 And he own'd no other sway. 
 
 He woke with a start to feel 
 His hands were as cold as steel, 
 
 And his brow was wet 
 
 With a cold damp sweat — 
 For him was it woe or weal ? 
 
 Sin stood for awhile 
 
 With a fitful smile, 
 Then laughed o'er what he had lost !- 
 
 Oh ! that men would turn 
 
 And the demon spurn, 
 And think of the awful cost ! 
 
 And he cried aloud in vain, 
 In his misery and pain ; 
 
 And visions arose 
 
 To check his repose, 
 While a fire burned in his brain. 
 
 " Oh ! where shall I find 
 
 A balm for my mind — 
 Is there such a thing as rest ? 
 
 Is there none to hear. 
 
 Not any to cheer. 
 The man who hath friends is blest ! "
 
 ROSSL ) 'A ' L ) -h-ICS. 69 ' 
 
 And Sin stole silent away 
 To haunts degraded yet gay ; 
 
 And into each heart 
 
 She sent a keen dart, 
 And smiled in demonlike way ; 
 
 For the world she knew, 
 
 And her subjects too, 
 Who strove in their might to break 
 
 From her bondage dear, 
 
 With its dread and fear, 
 But she would not them forsake. 
 
 Into a carpeted room, 
 
 Sin came in the midnight gloom. 
 
 And she saw a form 
 
 That had stood life's storm, 
 Now sinking towards the tomb ; 
 
 And he heard the roar 
 
 From the other shore. 
 For the rising tide was near. 
 
 And his hair was white, 
 
 He had fought the fight. 
 And vict'ry soon would him cheer. 
 
 Sin whisper'd words in his ear. 
 And tried to fill him with fear ; 
 
 But he strove to pray, 
 
 To chase far away 
 The thoughts that were surging clear ; 
 
 And he struggled long. 
 
 For his faith was strong. 
 But the wicked words came fast ; 
 
 And a weary sigh 
 
 Came swiftly by, 
 Borne hurriedly on the blast.
 
 70 ROSSL YN L YRICS. 
 
 He strove in the awful fight 
 
 ('Tis hard to keep in the right) — 
 And the sweat amain 
 Fell down as the rain, 
 
 Yet still he steered for the Light ! 
 Tho' wretched and worn, 
 With doubtings, fears, torn. 
 
 He cried for help from above — 
 'Tis hard to be near 
 The beauteous sphere 
 
 And hear no accents of love ! 
 
 But Sin arose in affright, 
 
 And shrank at a solemn sight ; 
 For into the room 
 There came in the gloom, 
 
 Faith, Hope, the twin sisters bright. 
 And they looked at Sin 
 As they entered in, 
 
 With horror both in their eyes ; 
 And Sin fled amazed 
 Like a being dazed— 
 
 As stars peeped down from the skies. 
 
 Oh ! Sin is a deadly thing. 
 
 And leaves behind it a sting 
 That forever grows 
 Into greater woes 
 
 Wherever her false notes ring. 
 She wanders and flies. 
 But heeds not the cries 
 
 That go from earth to heaven. 
 There still is a balm 
 Which bringeth a calm — 
 
 Those who repent are forgiven.
 
 ROSSL YN L YRICS. 7 r 
 
 And Sin in the world still flies 
 In many a strange disguise ; 
 
 And she whispers still 
 
 Of evil and ill 
 Wherever her work she plies. 
 
 And she hates the true, 
 
 And longs to imbue 
 Each one with her deadly stain. 
 
 Oh ! Sin is a foe 
 
 Leaving naught but woe, 
 And misery, anguish, pain ! 
 
 A NIGHT PICTURE. 
 
 Upon the rippling tide we sped, 
 Our noble bark went swift and free. 
 
 The moon shone clear, 
 
 And shimmered near 
 In feathery flakelets on the sea. 
 
 While stars above 
 
 Revealed a love 
 With golden orbs, in depths of blue. 
 
 Which seemed to smile, 
 
 And all beguile 
 By what they there displayed to view.
 
 72 ROSS LYN LYRICS. 
 
 The clouds afar in vapours white, 
 In tiny masses soared on high, 
 
 And spread in air 
 
 Their beauties fair. 
 Like snowflakes close against the sky. 
 
 And as a sigh 
 
 Which comes us nigh, 
 The west wind blew with whisper soft 
 
 And kissed the sea 
 
 In very glee. 
 And moved the pennon up aloft. 
 
 III. 
 
 Reflected in the depths below 
 
 The fishes swam and glittered bright. 
 
 All mirrored there, 
 
 Surpassing fair, 
 Like lustrous globes of golden light ! 
 
 And, as they gleamed 
 
 And sped, it seemed 
 As if one caught a glance where dwelt 
 
 The mermaids all 
 
 In coral hall, 
 For round us shone a quiv'ring belt. 
 
 IV. 
 
 And floating calm upon the tide, 
 The sea anemones were seen 
 
 In colours grand. 
 
 As if a hand 
 Had touched them with a fairy sheen.
 
 J^OSSL VN L YRICS. 7 3 
 
 Red, white and blue, 
 
 Of varied hue — 
 As pearls beauteous to the sight. 
 
 They gleamed below 
 
 With wondrous glow, 
 And added splendours to the night. 
 
 The foam glanced from the vessel's side. 
 And rippled o'er the glassy sea. 
 
 From far away 
 
 A thin mist, gray. 
 Came stealing noiseless on our lee. 
 
 While breezes slept 
 
 It nearer crept. 
 And covered all with slender veil. 
 
 Which hid the light 
 
 Of tender night. 
 That passed away as joyous tale. 
 
 THE HA VEN IN THE FUTURE. 
 
 1 WAS sitting thinking — dreaming of my boyish days of yore, 
 Happy times for ever vanished that will come to me no 
 
 more. 
 Deep within me hidden feelings stirred my heart and made 
 
 it glow. 
 When I thought of friends departed — of great sorrows and of 
 
 woe.
 
 74 JiOSSL YN L YRICS. 
 
 Backwards went my fancy fleeting, and I fought my battles. 
 
 o'er, 
 All elate with youth's ambition, as I pushed my barque from 
 
 shore ; 
 And the world, what cared I for it ! — thought that life was 
 
 always bright, — 
 Little thinking, little dreaming, of the stern-contested fight ! 
 But the time rolled on full quickly, each year seemed to 
 
 swifter fly, 
 And 1 felt so faint and weary that I almost wished to die ; 
 For great trials pressed upon me, bore me down and made 
 
 me weak, 
 That I sought a quieter haven, better refuge tried to seek. 
 Long I struggled, battled bravely, till grown old I lay me 
 
 down, 
 Push aside all vain ambition, give up striving for renown, 
 And I try to pierce the future, tear the veil which hides my 
 
 view, 
 Long to draw away the curtain that divides the false from 
 
 true. 
 But I cannot ; so I'm waiting till I hear my Master call 
 From the haven in the future, where no sorrows ever fall. 
 So I'm working — doing something^for I soon shall pass 
 
 away 
 To that place where all is gladness — to that land as bright as 
 
 day.
 
 JiOSSLVA' LVA'/CS. 75 
 
 HA WTHORNDEN. 
 
 Scenes of splendour and of grandeur, 
 Where the Esk loves to meander, 
 Sparkling here and speeding ever, 
 Gurgling, pulsing, stopping never ; 
 Through the glen it goes on stealing 
 Where are beauties worth revealing, — 
 Flowers many freely blooming 
 In their dress all unassuming. 
 
 See the sun's rays clearly shining 
 On the leaves with golden lining ; 
 While the butterflies keep flitting, 
 And the bees are honey sipping. 
 Birds around are ever singing. 
 Through the wood their notes are ringing ; 
 While the wind keeps gently sighing — 
 Telling all that Time is flying. 
 
 Hawthornden ! where Drummond wandered, 
 And on all thy beauties pondered ; 
 Where he wrote his gentle verses, 
 Which to all this day rehearses. 
 That he had a poet's vision, 
 Mingled with a rich fruition, 
 That comes yet adown the ages, 
 Bearing truth on all its pages ! 
 
 " Rare Ben Jonson" here once sported, 
 And with Drummond muses courted. 
 Spirits sweet ! ye met and parted. 
 Gifted brothers, leal, true hearted !
 
 76 ROSS LYN LYRICS. 
 
 Havvthornden, tall trees surround thee, 
 Stately beauties linger round thee ; 
 Where sweet Nature has expended 
 Many charms and finely blended. 
 
 Sing, ye winds, now gently sighing ! 
 Sing, oh ! river, in replying ; 
 Sing, ye birds, a noble chorus, 
 That will cheer our path before us ! 
 Oh ! long may thy beauties linger, 
 And may Time's all ruthless finger 
 Gently deal, and leave sweet traces 
 On thy best, most treasured places ! 
 
 FORGE T-ME-NO TS. 
 
 Fair Flora came with garlands sweet, 
 And flow'rs sprang up beneath her feet. 
 
 The hills no more were white with snow, 
 While lambs went frisking to and fro. 
 
 The gurgling burn was pure and clear. 
 And threading on thro' glade and mere. 
 
 The sky above was blue, while clouds 
 Kept flitting past like infant shrouds.
 
 /^OSSL VN L YRICS. 77 
 
 Two sweet forget-me-nots one morn 
 I saw a little crest adorn. 
 
 I looked into their starry eyes — 
 An emblem they of paradise. 
 
 II. 
 
 Two little girls came hand in hand, 
 Like fairies from an unknown land. 
 
 Two pairs of hands, four hazel eyes. 
 Two faces full of glad surprise. 
 
 III. 
 
 I passed again along that way. 
 Where in the morning all was gay. 
 
 The mavis high on yonder tree 
 Was singing clearly, bold and free. 
 
 The clouds were tinged with rosy glow ; 
 The wind was sighing to and fro. 
 
 The sweet forget-me-nots which grew, 
 Had vanished like the morning dew. 
 
 But further on I saw them lie 
 Beneath night's calm and azure sky, 
 
 All withered, faded, torn, and dead — 
 Their brief short term of life had fled.
 
 78 ROSSL YN L YRICS. 
 
 IV. 
 
 Two short months passed, and then I saw 
 A sight which filled me half with awe. 
 
 In yonder churchyard, near the wall, 
 Where all the day the sunbeams fall, 
 
 Two little graves (and underneath 
 
 The white and spotless, modest wreath), 
 
 Lay silent now, two babes at rest. 
 Who never more would feel unrest. 
 
 A SCOTTISH WIFE. 
 
 The win' is soughin' doun the lum, outside I hear the rain 
 Come wi' a constant pit-a-pat against each window pane. 
 An' Donald's out upon the hills, a wild an' eerie place, 
 When clouds are scourin' up abune, the pale niune hides- 
 
 her face. 
 It's lanely sittin' here mysel', an' no a body near, 
 Wi' fancies flittin' thro' my brain, within me awsome fear. 
 My heart maist loups into my mou' whene'er I hear a cry. 
 For in each thud or soun' there is an eildrich lonesome sigh.. 
 Tliere's mony folk beside mysel' whose heart feels aften drear, 
 An' I would be the blithest lass, if Donald were but here. 
 I love my Donald's ringing laugh, wi' soun' as dear's a bell ;. 
 An' oh ! I love his handsome face, but best o' a' himsel'.
 
 J^OSSL i W L YRICS. 79. 
 
 An' when he grups myhaun' in his, he gie's it such a squeeze, 
 It brings the tears oft to my een — I'm never ill to please. 
 But, whisht ! was that the collie's bark I heard doun i' the 
 
 glen ? 
 I'll stir mysel' an' mask the tear— the fire I'll need to men'. 
 For Donald lo'es a trig bit house, wi' a' things braw an' clean, 
 Wi' plenty bannocks i' the press, an' aitmeal cakes a wheen. 
 I'm sure the auld days were the best, when Scotland fed her 
 
 men 
 On weel-baked scones an' guid aitmeal— but what a fa' since 
 
 then ! 
 You'll seldom see a parritch pat, or even peasemeal brose — 
 Ay ! that's the food which made our men, so famous, I 
 
 suppose 
 For strength, an' heicht braw buirdly chiels wi' een aye clear 
 
 as day. 
 An' hearts which were aye true as steel — are th' auld times a' 
 
 away .'' 
 Ah ! there's the outer yett blawn wide, a reeshle at the door. 
 There's Donald's haun' upon the sneck — outside a sullen roar 
 An' he himsel' steps blithely in, wi' collie at his side. 
 Ay ! love is best where it is seen just at the ingleside. 
 
 SITTING BY THE FIRE. 
 
 When sitting by the fire, 
 
 And thicker grows the gloaming. 
 My thoughts ne'er seem to tire. 
 But always go a roaming. 
 I see the land, 
 Sublime and CTand —
 
 ^o ROSSL YN L YRICS. 
 
 The hills with purple heather, 
 And friends I knew 
 Now grown so few 
 I sported with together. 
 
 Yes ! when I sit alone, 
 I on the past oft ponder ; 
 
 While I, grown old, unknown 
 Am left behind to wander. 
 
 Our youth can not remain. 
 
 For years come onward stealing ; 
 They bring at times a pain, 
 And sometimes happy feeling. 
 And joys won't last, 
 But fleet as fast 
 As clouds which float in ether. 
 Oh ! life and truth, 
 And joyous youth, 
 And happy summer weather ! 
 A pain is at my heart 
 
 When fancy, backwards hieing, 
 Recalls up with a start, 
 
 How quick the time's been flying. 
 
 When sitting by the fire, 
 
 I sometimes see a vision, 
 And hear as from a lyre. 
 
 That hope has reached fruition. 
 
 But 'tis a dream, 
 
 A passing gleam 
 Of sunshine on my sadness. 
 
 For winter's near, 
 
 My life is sere, 
 Griefs mingle with my' gladness.
 
 ROSSLYN LYRICS. 
 
 Oh ! happy boyhood's years, 
 And days which knew but pleasure, 
 
 I think of them with tears, 
 
 And thoughts of them I treasure. 
 
 Yet, flitting ever near, 
 
 Some spirits keep aye singing 
 A song I ever hear, 
 
 Like wedding-bells a ringing. 
 Sweet and sublime, 
 In fairy rhyme, 
 It swells, and falls receding — 
 Now soft and low, 
 Then to and fro. 
 Aye fancy onwards leading. 
 The daybreak is at hand. 
 
 The Day Star is appearing, 
 And shining o'er the land. 
 
 To which our bark is steering. 
 
 THE SOLDIERS REWARD. 
 
 Worn out, exhausted, and dying 
 
 By the heat of battle and strife, 
 A wounded soldier lay silent. 
 
 And bidding farewell to this life. 
 Around him the watch-fires burning. 
 
 Cast a weird and solemn like glow ; 
 While he heard his heart go throbbing- 
 
 Monotonous, faintly, and lo\v.
 
 ROSSL YN L YRICS. 
 
 Beside him the river murmured, while it throbbed and sang 
 
 on its way 
 A song triumphant and joyous, as his hfe was fleeting away ! 
 His thoughts went back to the village, and he dreamt he sat 
 
 in the choir, 
 While the summer sun was sinking o'er the hills in a globe 
 
 of fire. 
 He heard his mother sing sweetly, his father's voice rose in 
 
 the air — 
 Now he was lonely and dying, with no kind form near him 
 to care ! 
 
 A mist came over his vision, 
 
 A whisper stole soft in his ear ; 
 Above him, a fair form hovered. 
 
 And a voice whispered sweet and clear — 
 " My brother, your course is ended, 
 
 And your race here on earth is done ; 
 The fight has been fought and finished. 
 
 And the victory now is won ! 
 When I was a child, you gave me, 
 When wandering lonely and sad, 
 Some bread to keep me from starving. 
 
 And kind smiles which made me feel glad. 
 Look up, and fear not, my brother ! 
 
 Thy deeds are recorded above. 
 On tablets on high engraven 
 
 By One who does all things in love." 
 The earth from his vision faded, 
 
 A ray, like a light from the cross, 
 Fell over his face — then silence — 
 He'd suffer on earth no more loss.
 
 ROSSLYN LYRICS. 83 
 
 A RED ROSE. 
 Lines on receiving one from a distance. 
 
 Away in the south, where the flowers bloom fair, 
 And the nightingale's song is heard in the air ; 
 When daylight retires with a solemn adieu, 
 And clouds above blush with a beautiful hue. 
 
 'Tis sweet when afar from the friends we love dear, 
 And sitting with thoughts that are sorrowful, drear. 
 To awake from our dreams and find at our side 
 A token of love, while our hearts fill with pride. 
 
 'Twas only a flower, a tiny red rose, 
 
 Which seemed to be sleeping, and blushed in repose 
 
 As it lay in a box which came from afar, 
 
 Yet brightened our eyes like a glorious star. 
 
 We read in the emblem a lesson of love 
 
 As pure, undefiled, as the sky up above — 
 
 A breath from the ocean of thought from a heart 
 
 Which welcomes a meeting and grieves to depart. 
 
 The rose now has faded, its petals are dead. 
 Its beauty has vanished, its freshness all fled ; 
 But yet a sweet perfume it sheds on the air, 
 Which tells of a treasure surpassingly rare. 
 
 The flowers must perish as seasons roll on, 
 And joys quickly wither, too soon are they gone ; 
 But a red faded flower we'll treasure and keep 
 Till we meet once again great gladness to reap.
 
 84 A'OSSL YN L YRICS. 
 
 THE SEWING MACHINE. 
 
 " Man, Henry, just marry, an' tak' a bit wife. 
 To keep you aye cheery the hale o' your life ; 
 She'll keep you an' guide you, an' comfort you tae, 
 An' mak you feel happy throughout ilka day." 
 
 I kent a nice lassie, whose bonnie blue een 
 Played havoc within me, altho' 'twas unseen, — 
 But mony sair hearts lie hidden atweel 
 Beneath a calm surface, while anguish we feel. 
 
 I spiered at her plainly, if she'd become mine — 
 She looked at me fondly, and said, " I am thine," — 
 I preed her bit mou', which was wonnerfu' sweet ; 
 Delicious it is tho' when lovers lips meet ! 
 
 Fu' quick got we married, an' happy was I, 
 Contentment reigned round us, but soon bade good-bye 
 For yaumerin' weans cam' disturbin' my rest — 
 But Providence shapes ilka thing for the best. 
 
 The weans were aft greetin' frae mornin' till nicht, 
 Aye girnin' an' wheengin' — a sair waesome sicht ; 
 My wife at the flytin', her tongue micht clip clouts ; 
 The married man happy — I aye had my doots. 
 
 Cauld parritch to breakfast, wi' plenty sour dook ; 
 An' yet if I spak' out or ga'e her a look. 
 She opened her batteries, fired richt an' left — 
 I seemed for a while oft a' senses bereft.
 
 ROSSL YN L YRICS. 85 
 
 At last, hoo it happened I hardly can tell, 
 But quicker than usual my head it got bell ; 
 I limped on ae fit too, but what do I care ? 
 The marriage life's happy, an' I get my share ! 
 
 The women tak' fancies to men aften whiles, 
 An' laugh braw an' hearty wi' face fu' o' smiles ; 
 But when they get married wreathes vanish awa', 
 Their temper tak's turns oft which naething can thaw. 
 
 My wife she cam' wheedlin' ae nicht to my side, 
 Dressed up like a duchess, an' in her nae pride ! 
 An' said, while she glanced sly at me wi' her een, 
 " I think noo, dear Henry, I'll need a machine ! " 
 
 Some men are like butter an' easy impress'd ; 
 The women are angels — but far frae their nest ; 
 An' Adam was foolish to tak' hame a mate — 
 It cost us (ye a' ken) a happy estate. 
 
 I got the machine, an' frae mornin' till nicht, 
 My house was like Bedlam, for naething was richt; 
 The taties were boilt saft like parritch or brose, 
 "The meat like a cinder— to comfort the nose. 
 
 I suffered in silence for mony a day. 
 My health it was failin', my hair gettin' grey ; 
 A stoop i' my shouthers, an' unco bad hoast, 
 An' like what I was ance, just nocht but a ghost. 
 
 Ae nicht I determined to speak to the wife, 
 But oh ! I felt terribly feared o' my life ; 
 For women are generals — born to command — 
 An' mak' mony dacent chiels come to a stand. 
 
 F
 
 ROSSLYN LYRICS. 
 
 I spak' out quite plainly, " Confound your machine ! 
 I wish you would keep this bit house o' yours clean ; 
 An' no be aye sewin' an' ca'in awa', 
 When I'm earnin' siller to keep you fu' braw." 
 
 " Confound your machine ! — ay ! you're very polite I 
 Of course, my dear husband, you always are right ; 
 But just let me tell you, wy sewin' machine 
 I'll work at it ever as long's I ha'e een." 
 
 I sighed unco deeply, an' gazed in the fire, 
 
 An' houped that my wife o' her workin' would tire ;. 
 
 But constantly, ever, ilk hour o' the day 
 
 My wife at her sewin' kept peggin' away. 
 
 The sewin' machine was a nichtmare to me. 
 For sleepin' or wakin' it aye I did see ; 
 An' heard it gang wheezin' an' buzzin' awa' — ■ 
 I couldna stand't langer — what man could at a' ? 
 
 I rose in the mornin' an' took the machine 
 
 Awa' to the back yaird, an' smashed it up clean ; 
 
 Then crept to my bed wi' a heart quakin' sair, 
 
 A voice whisp'rin' in me, " You'll need to take care." 
 
 I heard my wife risin', sae snored loud an' lang. 
 
 But sune it was changed to a different sang ; 
 
 A skelp on my haffits, wi' stars frae my een. 
 
 An' then a voice cryin', " Noo, whaur's my machine .'' " 
 
 " Wha wants your machine .'"' I cried out fu' o' pain, 
 
 When swiftly there came to my bedside amain, 
 
 A toaster an' poker, a dunt o' hard coal, 
 
 Which made me near senseless, scarce mair I could thole.
 
 ROSSL VN L YRICS. 87 
 
 The bellows cam' fleein', an' struck on the wa', 
 An' then cam' a hammer as neat as a ba', 
 An' drove itsel' sairly against my puir head — 
 The married life happy ! I wish I was dead ! 
 
 My wife cam' hersel' next, an' tugged at my hair, 
 An' cried out, " you villain," while thumpin'' me sair ; 
 But women are gentle, so meek and so good, 
 A pity they live here on our earthly food. 
 
 " You've smashed my machine a' to splinters an' bits ; 
 You scoundrel, you blackguard, you'll drive me to fits ! " 
 Exhausted she halted, an' gasped sair for breath — 
 I dressed mysel' quickly in fear o' my death. 
 
 I bolted out suddenly up to the toun, 
 An' felt whizzin' past me a pair of auld shoon — 
 It's best to be married, an' ken a gude wife, 
 Wha'll keep you frae wearying a' thro' your life ! 
 
 Noo tak' my advice a', ne'er marry before 
 
 You calculate earnestly what is in store ; 
 
 But if you w-ant mony a lively bit scene, 
 
 When ance you are married— then buy a machine 1
 
 88 J^OSSL ] W L YRICS. 
 
 A HALF-BLOWN ROSE. 
 I. 
 
 A PAIR of wistful eyes, 
 
 That gaze on a childish face ; 
 A heart within which often cries, 
 
 As she sits in a well-known place. 
 And like to the evening's close, 
 When skies blush sweet in repose ; 
 So a girl now sleeps 
 While a mother keeps 
 A watch, while she strives to hide her woes. 
 
 II. 
 
 Softly the sun's rays gleam, 
 
 And quiver in streams of light, 
 While there strayeth a golden beam 
 
 Into the room with delight. 
 Kissing the ruby lips, 
 It steals o'er her face and finger tips ; 
 And then it soon flies, 
 Recedes fast and dies, 
 As the clouds its brilliant light eclipse. 
 
 III. 
 
 The bird in its cage sweet sings 
 
 A song from out its heart, 
 Yet, as it melody flings, 
 
 Each note's like a painful dart.
 
 ROSSLYN LYRTCS. 
 
 And the dog on the hearth lies low 
 And moans, as it stirs to and fro, 
 
 And gazeth with eyes 
 
 Where dumb anguish lies, 
 While the western zephyrs outside blow low. 
 
 IV. 
 
 'Tis the hush of eventide, 
 
 A solemn silence broods 
 O'er the village, its valleys, and sleeps 
 
 Away down in the shady woods. 
 As a spark leaps up, then dies, 
 So, unseen, the child's spirit flies 
 To the realms of light. 
 Where are spirits bright, 
 In mansions above the starry skies. 
 
 The brightest flowers fade away, 
 Treasures we fain would keep ; 
 We long for the light of day. 
 
 And with pent-up tears we weep. 
 Down in the churchyard lone. 
 Where the night winds sob and moan, 
 Is a little grave, 
 Where grasses green wave, 
 And a rose now half unblown !
 
 90 ROSSL YN L YRICS. 
 
 S UNSE T. 
 
 The sun is sinking in the west 
 And making clouds around to blush. 
 
 As parting day 
 
 Hies close away, 
 An evening hymn sweet sings the thrush ; 
 
 While trees let fall 
 
 Their shadows tall, 
 Like giant phantoms to the earth, 
 
 And all is calm 
 
 Which brings a balm 
 To hearts that tire of noisy mirth. 
 
 The wind breathes gently on the pool, 
 Caressing all its surface o'er ; 
 
 While, like a fringe, 
 
 A golden tinge 
 Dyes all the waters by the shore. 
 
 And flowers close 
 
 For sweet repose 
 Their weary eyelids for a while ; 
 
 While up above 
 
 The sky with love 
 Looks down on all with happy smile. 
 
 The heavens on high a deeper red. 
 Are arching o'er the vault of night, 
 
 As sinks the sun, 
 
 Its duty done, 
 While fades away the pure day light. 
 
 O'er all the hills 
 
 A vapour fills
 
 J^OSSL VN L YRICS. 91 
 
 Each lovely glen and valley near. 
 
 While carols cease, 
 
 And Cometh peace, 
 Till nothing jars upon the ear. 
 
 The red light fades. The clouds rise up 
 No larger than a tiny hand, 
 
 But quickly spread 
 
 Fast overhead 
 In masses large, majestic grand ; 
 
 And like a pall 
 
 Soon covers all 
 With mantle of an inky hue. 
 
 And night comes fast 
 
 And swift at last, 
 As daylight bids to all adieu ! 
 
 JESSIE. 
 
 Smiling and coaxing 
 
 The mother stands, 
 Watching her infant go crossing the floor, 
 While father is standing close to the door, 
 And gleefully clapping loud his hands. 
 
 Stepping out gently 
 
 The child comes near, 
 And laughs to herself, with her bright clear eyes, 
 'That have caught a reflection from azure skies — 
 There's not in the wide world a baby so dear.
 
 92 ROSSLYN LYRICS. 
 
 II. 
 
 Lovingly, warmly 
 
 Laid in her nest, 
 Jessie is slumbering, smiles in her sleep, 
 While around her cradle the angels keep 
 A watchful guard, as she lies at rest. 
 
 Her face is so calm, 
 
 I seem to see 
 The same Christ who spoke in the days of old, 
 And uttered aloud those words, precious as gold,- 
 " Oh ! suffer the children to come unto Me." 
 
 III. 
 
 Bright as the morning 
 
 Jessie awakes. 
 While she babbles and talks in unknown tongue, 
 As if at her birth here the fairies had sung. 
 And thus of their joys she too partakes. 
 
 What will she grow to 
 
 I ask full oft, 
 As I watch my child with her winning ways ; 
 And I list to the answering voice which says. 
 
 There's One who will guide her who dwelleth aloft.. 
 
 IV. 
 
 So, just as Jessie 
 
 Cometh to me. 
 And pillows her head content on my breast, 
 And findeth with me a haven and rest. 
 And there for a time from woes is free.
 
 ROSSL VN L YRICS. 93. 
 
 In similar faith, 
 
 Through good and ill, 
 I will trust Him always to guide her ways, 
 Who calmeth the tempest and fear all allays, 
 By the simple uttering of " Peace, be still ! " 
 
 THE MAIDEN'S CONFESSION. 
 
 I CANNOT tell thee all I feel, 
 
 For my brain seems in a whirl, 
 And my heart is loudly beating, — 
 
 I'm a foolish, foolish girl. 
 But his voice it sounded sweetly, 
 
 And his words I hear them still, 
 For he spoke to me so fondly — 
 
 My own handsome, dear, sweet Will 
 
 And he gazed at me so loving 
 
 With his eyes, which looked in mine, 
 As we stood alone together. 
 
 While the moon on high did shine. 
 But the time passed far too quickly — 
 
 Too quickly it sped for me ; 
 I think I could dwell for ever 
 
 With dear Will, and happy be.
 
 94 J^OSSL VN L YRICS. 
 
 III. 
 
 But men, I am told, are fickle, 
 
 When a prettier face they see ; 
 But where are any more handsome, 
 
 Or better looking than ine ? 
 I'm sure I know of no other 
 
 Than can e'er with mc compare ; 
 For dear Will himself hath told me, 
 
 He never saw one so fair. 
 
 IV, 
 
 Yet still I'm all in a flutter. 
 
 For Will has been to papa ; 
 And I know what it is he wants, 
 
 So I went and told mamma ! 
 And now we're soon to be married, 
 
 And I'm sure we'll happy be ; 
 For Will he'll make a nice husband, 
 
 And I a good wife, you'll see ! 
 
 THOSE BOYS. 
 
 In her eyes was troublous dreaming. 
 In her heart were hopes and fears, 
 
 And there came no light or gleaming- 
 Not a glimpse of future years.
 
 /^OSSL VN L VRICS. 95 
 
 And she sat within the room, 
 Thicker, denser grew the gloom, 
 While she thought of vanished joys- 
 'Twas a mother's whisper only, 
 Sitting in the gloaming lonely— 
 Who will watch my orphan boys ? 
 
 In her lap her hands were lying. 
 Fingers clasped together there ; 
 
 Through the chinks the wind came sighing, 
 Tempests brooding in the air. 
 
 In the sun's rays softly came, 
 
 Streamed like threads of crimson flame ; 
 
 On the floor were childish toys, 
 
 Many too of these were broken — 
 Would there come to her no token. 
 
 Who would watch her infant boys ? 
 
 III. 
 
 Memories came surging, thronging, 
 In her eyes were welling tears ; 
 
 "While a wistful yearning, longing. 
 Boomed and echoed in her ears. 
 
 Suddenly there came in sight 
 
 Something wrapped in mantle white- 
 
 Indistinctly did she see. 
 
 Who is this that is attending. 
 At her feet the figure's bending : 
 
 •" Mamma, will God care for me ? "
 
 96 /^OSSL VN L YRICS. 
 
 IV. 
 
 In her eyes a new light's beaming 
 Bright and pure and shining clear ; 
 
 Surely she has but been dreaming, 
 Wherefore all her doubt and fear ? 
 
 Soon she takes the child to pray, 
 
 Sorrows fly like mists away. 
 
 And her heart is filled with joys 
 As she at the bedside kneeling 
 Whispers thus with happy feeling 
 
 " God will watch my orphan boys ! " 
 
 SONG— A WESTERN GEM. 
 Air — " O' a' the aiits." 
 
 'TiS sweet to see in early morn 
 
 The sun rise o'er the hills, 
 To hear the rippling waters lauch 
 
 In a' the sparklin' rills ; 
 To hear the soughin' o' the win', 
 
 The birds a' warblin' clear ; 
 But greater pleasures I aye ha'e 
 
 When Mary, love, is near ! 
 
 I like the glint o' Mary's een 
 Which lichten up her face ; 
 
 They leave impressions on my heart 
 Which time can ne'er deface.
 
 ROSSL YN L YRICS. 97 
 
 In a' she does a glamour lies, 
 
 In ilk thing is a spell ; 
 An' when she speaks her voice it soun's 
 
 As dear's a marriage bell. 
 
 The laverock sings fu' joyous, sweet, 
 
 When soarin' high in air, 
 As if the warl' was fu' o' love, 
 
 Wi' ne'er a streak o' care. 
 An' Mary sings wi' syren's pow'r 
 
 In ilka lilt I hear; 
 She maks my heart gang pit-a-pat, — 
 
 I whiles let fa' a tear. 
 
 The warl' is wide, an' gowd's a king 
 
 Wha rules baith young an' auld ; 
 But gi'e me ae fond heart to lo'e, 
 
 I'd suffer puirtith's cauld. 
 For Mary is as untold wealth, 
 
 A treasure rich and rare ; 
 I trow there's nane I've ever seen, 
 
 Wha would wi' her compare. 
 
 Oh ! sing ye wimplin' burns a sang. 
 
 An' sing ilk bird an' bee. 
 An' waft the tokens o' my love 
 
 To Mary, dear, frae me. 
 I see her face where'er I gang. 
 
 Her bonnie lichtsome een. 
 They shine like diamonds in the sky, 
 
 Set in an azure sheen. 
 
 Let ithers dream o' wealth an' fame, 
 
 An' think o' gettin' gear. 
 An' grasp a bubble in their haun' 
 
 To melt an' disappear.
 
 /^OSSL VN L YRICS. 
 
 I'll treasure deep doun i' my heart, 
 The face I lo'e the best ; 
 
 O, Mary, dear, the brightest gem 
 That e'er shone in the west ! 
 
 RUMMLEGUMPTION. 
 
 My mither often spak' to me 
 
 O' bygane days, 
 Concernin' Scotlan' an' her men, 
 
 An' woidd them praise. 
 She tauld o' hoo they focht an' bled, 
 
 Baith sire and son ; 
 An' proved themsel's a' leal an' true. 
 
 An' freedom won. 
 
 She'd point to whaur the Pentlan' hills 
 
 Stood firm an' sure ; 
 An' whaur on grassy RuUion Green, 
 
 To keep aye pure 
 Religion from attendant vice, 
 
 Oor men fell fast ; 
 An' noo in quietness Him we praise — 
 
 Long may it last ! 
 
 But noo-a-days oor younger men 
 
 Lo'e pleasure mair 
 Than did our faithers' sires langsyne, 
 
 An' dinna care
 
 JiOSSL YN L YRICS. 99 
 
 To gang to hear the Word o' Life 
 
 Ilk Sabbath day, 
 But lounge at hame, or loll an' gant 
 
 Their time away. 
 
 Nae rummlegumption some ha'e got, 
 
 An' even leave 
 Their Bible frae ilk day to day, 
 
 An' dinna grieve 
 That they ne'er turn its leaves or read 
 
 What's writ therein ; 
 While dust oft gi'est a coatin' thick — 
 
 The mair's their sin. 
 
 Oor forefaithers, thro' snaw an' show'r, 
 
 In rain or sleet, 
 Would walk long weary miles to hear 
 
 (Wi' hackit feet) 
 The Word o' God. Their canopy 
 
 The clouds an' sky. 
 Their seats the heather an' the grass, 
 
 Yet — He was nigh. 
 
 But noo folk are ashamed to gang. 
 
 Unless they're drest 
 In claes o' faultless shape, and mak' 
 
 The very best. 
 A wee bit show'r keeps them awa', — 
 
 Tho' some will gang, 
 When rain is pourin' quick an' fast, 
 
 To hear a sang. 
 
 Ay, rummlegumption is a word 
 
 Few comprehend,— 
 It just means plenty common sense — 
 
 Oh ! would folk mend !
 
 ROSSL YN L YRICS. 
 
 But like as apples so are men, 
 
 For some are sour ; 
 An' ithers want a fusshen too, 
 
 Men's hearts are dour. 
 
 The earth is fu' o' bonny scenes 
 
 An' flow'rets fair ; 
 An' He wha rules abune ower a', 
 
 Tak's aye gude care. 
 But we, for a' His benefits, 
 
 Gi'e little praise ; 
 An' trifle oft oor time awa'. 
 
 In useless ways. 
 
 An' rummlegumption I would wish 
 
 Ilk ane to ha'e. 
 An' ken the guid o' present time, 
 
 Which fleets away. 
 The birds sing for the joys they feel, 
 
 An' sings the burn ; 
 But mony men ne'er gi'e a grunt — 
 
 Oh'! would such turn, 
 
 An' learn in ilka thing they see. 
 
 To trace His haun' ; 
 An' then, perchance, the truth they'll learn 
 
 An' in it staun'. 
 Then Scotlan' wi' her noble sons 
 
 Will ever prove 
 A bulwark for the ancient faith, 
 
 Which nocht can move.
 
 7iOSSL]\y LYRICS. 
 
 SAMUEL SMILES JERDAN. 
 Died 26th February 1S78. 
 
 The spring was coming nearer, 
 
 "With garlands bright and gay ; 
 The winter's snow had vanish'd, 
 
 With cold bleak winds away. 
 Fair flow'rs were peeping upwards 
 
 From out the dark brown earth ; 
 While birds around were singing — 
 
 All Nature full of mirth ! 
 
 But one who oft sang clearly 
 
 With heart attuned to praise, 
 And brightened many homesteads , 
 
 With joyous cheerful lays, 
 Was fading, fleeting, dying, 
 
 In manhood's early prime, 
 Though joys were coming onwards 
 
 To gladden this dark clime. 
 
 The harp is broken — silent. 
 
 The singer's voice no more 
 Will cheer in accents joyous, 
 
 As oft in days of yore. 
 Farewell ! but still thou leavest 
 
 A noble name behind, 
 Of one aye true, Ical-hcarted, 
 
 Whose ways were ever kind.
 
 A'OSSLV.Y LYRICS. 
 
 THE CLASP OF A HAND. 
 
 'TWAS only the clasp of a woman's hand, 
 
 Tender and true, 
 With a look from eyes, with an azure light, 
 
 Which thrilled me through. 
 And then we parted. But still I can see 
 
 A sweet fond face, 
 And a little form in a dress of black. 
 
 I yet can trace 
 The beseeching look, the tender adieu 
 
 And kind farewell. 
 And when time has pass'd, and over my grave 
 
 The sweet blue bell 
 With other flowers wave, then — but not till then- 
 Will love be dead ; 
 Till the blood in my veins doth cease its flow, 
 
 And life has fled, 
 Will I e'er forget that beautiful face, 
 
 Or tender hand. 
 And then when I die may I meet her there, 
 
 In yonder land. 
 
 GENEROSITY. 
 
 Miss Tompkins had a magpie once 
 She loved with all her heart. 
 
 For no young man had ever asked 
 To share that tender part !
 
 ROSSL YN L YRICS. 1 03 
 
 Miss Tompkins was not very old, 
 
 Her charms were yet quite green — 
 But beauty (like a flower) oft blooms, 
 
 And flourishes ttnseen / 
 
 So all alone she wandered oft 
 
 Within her garden drest ; 
 While magpie on her shoulder perched, 
 
 Her dear and honoured guest. 
 
 One day the magpie on the ground 
 
 Picked up a treasured prize, 
 Which in its bill it deftly hid. 
 
 Unseen by mortal eyes. 
 
 Then gently up from earth it flew. 
 
 And on her shoulder came ; 
 It seemed so full of love and joy 
 
 It could not speak her name ! 
 
 Miss Tompkins stroked it with her hand, 
 
 And called it "just a dear ;" 
 Then held it closely to her lips. 
 
 For no young man was near ! 
 
 Then suddenly the magpie put 
 
 Its bill between her lips; 
 But, like a foolish bird, it proved 
 
 Its last and best eclipse! 
 
 For oh ! it dropped — how can I tell .'' 
 
 But truth I will not hide — 
 A caterpillar, large and fat. 
 
 Then hopped on by her side !
 
 I04 J?OSSL VN L YRICS. 
 
 But from that day no bird is seen 
 Miss Tompkins near at hand ; 
 
 Her gen'rous friend, the magpie's dead, 
 Sent to another land ! 
 
 ' ' A'X'AOl KXfiO'J. 
 
 A>i>io/ fioijicov, aAAo/ ijvxvTO — 
 This is a truth which all must know here. 
 Thousands ever are toiling, struggling, 
 Jogging along on this earthly sphere. 
 
 Work, work, 
 
 Work, work, 
 Tho' their bread be won with many a tear. 
 
 AAAo/ x.xfiou, oiXKoi ui/ot,uro — 
 Some of us toil that others may reap ; 
 Hearts are breaking, children are starving^ 
 While others around with grief sore weep. 
 
 Weep, weep, 
 
 Weep, weep, 
 Till slumber comes with its balmy sleep. 
 
 ' AAAo/ jcos^o;/, oLXKoi uvuvto — 
 Here for a space, and then we go — where ? 
 Some of us work, strive to be happy- 
 Toil till our hearts get broken or sere — 
 
 Toil, toil. 
 
 Toil, toil, 
 Toil aye, and struggle 'mid hope and fear.
 
 Jx'OSSL VN L YRICS. 1 05 
 
 '" KWai KUf^ou, »KKoi uuocuro — 
 Riches are lent to fly soon away. 
 Many tnust work, and some, too, nacst weep, 
 Till the dawn is seen which seems to say — 
 
 " A'KKot x,ix,f/.ou, 
 
 "AAAo; ui/oiuro, 
 
 What is life but a brief summer's day ? 
 
 SONGS IVEET IS THE MORNIN\ 
 Air — " The Flowers o' the Forest." 
 
 I. 
 
 Sweet is the mornin' when Nature is adornin' 
 The earth wi' her garlands an' treasures so fair ; 
 
 When birds begin singing, 
 
 An' echoes are ringing, 
 Like syrens carolling some anthem full rare. 
 The winds are sighing, for pleasures are flying, 
 Too soon cometh darkness an' long hours o' care. 
 
 But Jessie will cheer me. 
 
 To all things endear me — 
 Even Winter, so grumlie, will frighten us ne'er. 
 
 Flowers gay are blooming, in garb unassuming, 
 An' wafting a perfume both pleasant an' rare. 
 
 An' Jessie's aye smilin'. 
 
 Her charms are beguilin'. 
 While in a' her features there's no trace of care.
 
 1 06 ROSSL YN L YRICS. 
 
 'Tis sweet in the gloaniin', when we twa are roamin', 
 Our hearts are aye lichtsome an' feel nae a sair. 
 
 We lo'e ane anither, 
 
 So I will ne'er swither, 
 Sin' she's promised to me noo hersel' bright an' fair. 
 
 WHATS WRANG NOO? 
 
 What's wrang noo, my puir wee lassie, 
 
 That you're greetin' there sae sair ; 
 Like to burst your wee heart sabbin' — 
 
 Surely you can ha'e nae care ? 
 Such a waesome face, my lassie, 
 
 Come an' tell me a' what's wrang ; 
 Look up, see the little birdie's 
 
 Singing you a cheery sang. 
 
 Dicht your een, then, but you're bonnie, 
 
 You an' I will yet agree ; 
 Tho' you're shy, gey blate an' bashfu', 
 
 Keekin' ower your haun's at me. 
 Did you want your mither, lassie? 
 
 Mither, see an' come quick hame, 
 For a little lass is waitin', 
 
 Tired o' bein' a' her lane.
 
 J^OSSL VN L YRICS. 107 
 
 III. 
 
 See the cat ! Look hoo it's runnin', 
 
 As its tail it tries to bite ; 
 Roun' an' roun' about its loupin', 
 
 Surely pussy's gane clean gyte. 
 Noo it's got a ba' o' vvorset — ■ 
 
 Some great prize it thinks, nae doubt 
 An' it's got it a' entangled, 
 
 Ravelled past the touzlin' oot. 
 
 IV. 
 
 Oh ! look yonder, such a wonder, 
 
 There's anither little wean 
 In yon glass, wi' cheeks as rosy 
 
 An' a face just like your ain. 
 Wha can't be, yon bonnie bairnie — 
 
 Dae you think it is yoursel' ? 
 .Sac you've guessed it — weel that's clever, 
 
 It's no every wean could tell. 
 
 Ah ! there's mither — rin an' meet her ; 
 
 Losh me ! there you've tummelled doun 
 Shoo, bad pussy — puir wee lassie, 
 
 Fa'en an' hurt her little croun. 
 But she cares na, for her mither 
 
 Lifts her quickly aff the floor ; 
 An' wi' kisses soothes her sorrows— 
 
 Sune she's free frae childish care.
 
 io8 ROSSLYN LYRICS. 
 
 WHY THE SEA MOANS. 
 
 The sea keeps surging throughout the day, 
 And on thro' the hours till twilight grey, 
 And laps the shore with its waters white. 
 Feathery flakelets pale with affright ; 
 While sobbing aloud in monotone, 
 For the sea is cold, and all alone. 
 
 A weary cry from the forest dim 
 Came surging along like some sad hymn. 
 And rippling on thro' the autumn air, 
 With a deathless wail of great despair ; 
 It joins its cry where the wild waves rolled 
 By the bleak sea-shore so damp and cold. 
 
 III. 
 
 And a legend tells that long ago, 
 When spirits unseen went to and fro. 
 And reigned in their kingdoms ruling well, 
 And whose voices rose in tuneful swell. 
 That went o'er the earth in rippling song, 
 Like echoes sweet from a starry throng. 
 
 IV. 
 
 The Sea-king longed for the forest Queen, 
 (He saw her afar in pearly sheen),
 
 FOSSL VN L YRICS. 1 09 
 
 And he sang aloud and praised her eyes 
 Like rubies from out the azure skies ; 
 And spoke of a love never to die — 
 And softly there came a sweet reply : — 
 
 '* Oh ! King, thou'rt fairer, more dear to me, 
 Than the coral caves, joy of the sea ! 
 Come to me now, for I roam at night 
 In darkness often, and long for light— 
 For thou art to me my guiding star. 
 And I hear thy loved voice from afar." 
 
 VI. 
 
 Then gladly the spirit of the sea 
 
 Over the waters sped in his glee ; 
 
 He bathed his face in the bright sea foam. 
 
 And thought of the bride he'd soon bring home ; 
 
 And then in his joy came to the shore, 
 
 Where the waves rolled on with muffled roar. 
 
 VII. 
 
 The Queen of the forest tried to reach 
 The spirit King who roamed by the beach ; 
 But they could not meet there side by side. 
 For in their kingdoms each had to bide. 
 So they parted there with fond good-bye, 
 While over the sea thei-e sped a sigh !
 
 ROSSLYN LYRICS. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 So ever since then the sea sad moans, 
 And echoes aloud its sobs and groans ; 
 While the forest Queen doth ever sigh, 
 When thro' her dominions passing by ! — 
 Thus the ocean King and forest Queen, 
 Grieve in despair for what might have been. 
 
 COMMERCIAL PRINTING COMPANY, EDINnUKGH.
 
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