As arts or arms they understand, Their labours ply.

"They Scotia's race among them share:
Some fire the soldier on to dare;
Some rouse the patriot up to bare
Corruption's heart;

Some teach the bard-a darling care―
The tuneful art.

"Mong swelling floods of reeking gore
They ardent, kindling spirits pour;
Or 'mid the venal senate's roar
They, sightless, stand,
To mend the honest patriot lore,
And grace the land.

"And when the bard, or hoary sage,
Charm or instruct the future age,
They bind the wild poetic rage
In energy,

Or point the inconclusive page
Full on the eye.

"Hence Fullarton, the brave and young;
Hence Dempster's zeal-inspired tongue;
Hence sweet harmonious Beattie sung
His minstrel lays;

Or tore, with noble ardour stung,
The sceptic's bays.

"To lower orders are assigned

The humbler ranks of human kind;
The rustic bard, the lab'ring hind,
The artisan-

All choose, as various they're inclined,
The various man.

"When yellow waves the heavy grain,
The threat'ning storm some strongly rein;
Some teach to meliorate the plain

With tillage skill;

And some instruct the shepherd train,
Blythe o'er the hill.

"Some hint the lover's harmless wile;
Some grace the maiden's artless smile;
Some soothe the lab'rer's weary toil
For humble gains,
And make his cottage-scenes beguile
His cares and pains.

"Some, bounded to a district-space,
Explore at large man's infant race,
To mark the embryotic trace

Of rustic bard; And careful note each op'ning graceA guide and guard.

"Of these am I-Coila my name; And this district as mine I claim,

Where once the Campbells,1 chiefs of fame,
Held ruling pow'r;

I marked thy embryo tuneful flame,
Thy natal hour.

"With future hope I oft would gaze,
Fond, on thy little early ways,
Thy rudely carolled, chiming phrase
In uncouth rhymes,
Fired at the simple artless lays
Of other times.

"I saw thee seek the sounding shore,
Delighted with the dashing roar;
Or when the North his fleecy store
Drove through the sky,

I saw grim Nature's visage hoar
Struck thy young eye.

"Or when the deep green-mantled earth
Warm cherished every flow'ret's birth,
And joy and music pouring forth
In every grove,

I saw thee eye the general mirth
With boundless love.

"When ripened fields and azure skies
Called forth the reaper's rustling noise,
I saw thee leave their evening joys,
And lonely stalk

To vent thy bosom's swelling rise
In pensive walk.

"When youthful love, warm-blushing, strong,
Keen-shivering shot thy nerves along,
Those accents grateful to thy tongue,
Th' adored name,

I taught thee how to pour in song,
To sooth thy flame.

"I saw thy pulse's maddening play
Wild send thee pleasure's devious way,
Misled by fancy's meteor ray,

By passion driven;

But yet the light that led astray

Was light from Heaven. 2

"I taught thy manners-painting strains,
The loves, the ways of simple swains-
Till now, o'er all my wide domains
Thy fame extends,
And some, the pride of Coila's plains,
Become thy friends.

The Loudon branch of the Campbells.

2 Of strains like the above, solemn and sublime with that rapt and inspired melancholy in which the poet lifts his eye "above this visible diurnal sphere," the poems entitled "Despondency,' "The Lament," "Winter: a Dirge," and the invocation "To Ruin," afford no less striking examples.-Henry Mackenzie.

By wood and wild, Where, haply, pity strays forlorn, Frae man exiled.

Ye hills, near neebors o' the starns, That proudly cock your cresting cairns! Ye cliffs, the haunts of sailing yearns, Where echo slumbers!

Come join, ye Nature's sturdiest bairns,
My wailing numbers!

Mourn, ilka grove the cushat kens!
Ye hazlly shaws and briery dens!
Ye burnies, wimplin' down your glens,
Wi' todlin' din,

Or foaming strang, wi' hasty stens,
Frae linn to linn.

Mourn, little harebells owre the lea;
Ye stately foxgloves fair to see;
Ye woodbines hanging bonnilie,
In scented bowers;

Ye roses on your thorny tree,
The first o' flowers!

At dawn, when every grassy blade
Droops with a diamond at his head,
At ev'n, when beans their fragrance shed
I' th' rustling gale,

Ye maukins, whiddin' through the glade,
Come, join my wail!

Mourn, ye wee songsters o' the wood;
Ye grouse that crap the heather bud;
Ye curlews calling through a clud;
Ye whistling plover;

And mourn, ye whirring paitrick brood;
He's gane forever!

Mourn, sooty coots, and speckled teals;
Ye fisher herons, watching eels;
Ye duck and drake, wi' airy wheels
Circling the lake;

Ye bitterns, till the quagmire reels,
Rair for his sake!

Mourn, clam'ring craiks, at close o' day,
'Mang fields o' flow'ring clover gay!
And when ye wing your annual way
Frae our cauld shore,
Tell thac far warlds wha lies in clay,
Wham we deplore.

Ye howlets, frae your ivy bow'r,
In some auld tree, or eldritch tow'r,
What time the moon, wi' silent glow'r,
Sets up her horn,
Wail through the dreary midnight hour
Till waukrife morn!

O rivers, forests, hills, and plains! Oft have ye heard my cantie strains; But now, what else for me remains But tales of woe;

And frae my een the drapping rains Maun ever flow!

Mourn, Spring, thou darling of the year!
Ilk cowslip cup shall kep a tear;
Thou, Simmer, while each corny spear
Shoots up its head,

Thy gay, green, flow ring tresses shear,
For him that's dead!

Thou, Autumn, wi' thy yellow hair,
In grief thy sallow mantle tear!
Thou, Winter, hurling through the air
The roaring blast,

Wide o'er the naked world declare

The worth we've lost!

Mourn him, thou Sun, great source of light!
Mourn, empress of the silent night!
And you, ye twinkling starnies bright,
My Matthew mourn!

For through your orbs he's ta'en his flight,
Ne'er to return.

O Henderson! the man! the brother!
And art thou gone, and gone for ever?
And hast thou crossed that unknown river,
Life's dreary bound?

Like thee, where shall I find another,
The world around?

Go to your sculptured tombs, ye great,
In a' the tinsel trash o' state!
But by thy honest turf I'll wait,
Thou man of worth!

And weep the ae best fellow's fate
Eer lay in earth.

HALLOWEEN.1

"Yes! let the rich deride, the proud disdain,
The simple pleasures of the lowly train;
To me more dear, congenial to my heart,
One native charm, than all the gloss of art."

GOLDSMITH.

Upon that night, when fairies light On Cassillis Downans2 dance,

1 This beautiful poem was probably suggested to Burns by one on the same subject from the pen of John Mayne, which appeared in print five years before his own, written in 1785.-ED.

2 Certain little, romantic, rocky, green hills in the

Or owre the lays, in splendid blaze,
On sprightly coursers prance;
Or for Colzean the route is ta'en,

Beneath the moon's pale beams,
There, up the cove,3 to stray an' rove
Amang the rocks and streams
To sport that night.

Amang the bonnie winding banks

Where Doon rins, wimplin', clear,
Where Bruce ance ruled the martial ranks,
And shook his Carrick spear,

Some merry, friendly, countra folks,
Together did convene,

To burn their nits, an' pou their stocks,
An' haud their Halloweens
Fu' blythe that night.

The lasses feat, an' cleanly neat,

Mair braw than whan they're fine; Their faces blythe, fu' sweetly kythe Hearts leal, an' warm, an' kin'; The lads sae trig, wi' wooer-babs Weel knotted on their garten, Some unco blate, an' some wi' gabs Gar lasses' hearts gang startin' Whiles fast at night.

Then, first and foremost, thro' the kail, Their stocks maun a' be sought ance; They steek their een, an' graip an' wale For muckle anes an' straught anes. Poor hav'rel Will fell aff the drift,

An' wandered through the bow-kail, neighbourhood of the ancient seat of the Earls of Cas

sillis.

3 A noted cavern near Colzean House, called the Cove of Colzean, which, as Cassillis Downans, is famed in country story for being a favourite haunt of fairies.

4 The famous family of that name, the ancestors of Robert, the great deliverer of his country, were Earls of Carrick.

5 Halloween is thought to be a night when witches, devils, and other mischief-making beings are all abroad on their baneful midnight errands; particularly those aerial people, the fairies, are said on that night to hold a grand anniversary.

The first ceremony of Halloween is pulling each a stock or plant of kail. They must go out, hand in hand, with eyes shut, and pull the first they meet with: its being big or little, straight or crooked, is prophetic of the size and shape of the grand object of all their spells -the husband or wife. If any yird or earth stick to the root, that is tocher or fortune; and the taste of the custoc, that is, the heart of the stem, is indicative of the natural temper and disposition. Lastly, the stems, or to give them their ordinary appellation, the runts, are placed somewhere above the head of the door; and the Christian names of the people whom chance brings into the house, are, according to the priority of placing the runts, the names in question.

An' pou't, for want o' better shift, A runt was like a sow-tail,

Sae bow't that night.

Then, straught or crooked, yird or nane,
They roar an' cry a' throu'ther;
The vera wee-things, todlin', rin
Wi' stocks out-owre their shouther;
And gif the custoc's sweet or sour,
Wi' joctelegs they taste them;
Syne coziely, aboon the door,

Wi' cannie care, they place them
To lie that night.

The lasses staw frae 'mang them a'

To pou their stalks o' corn;1 But Rab slips out, an' jinks about, Behint the muckle thorn: He grippet Nelly hard an' fast; Loud skirl'd a' the lasses; But her tap pickle maist was lost, When kuittlin' in the fause-house2 Wi' him that night.

The auld guidwife's weel hoordet nits3
Are round an' round divided,
An' monie lads' an' lasses' fates

Are there that night decided:
Some kindle, couthie, side by side,
An' burn thegither trimly;
Some start awa' wi' saucy pride,

An' jump out-owre the chimlic
Fu' high that night.

Jean slips in twa', wi tentie ee;
Wha 'twas, she wadna tell;
But this is Jock, an' this is me,
She says in to hersel:

He bleez'd owre her, and she owre him,

As they would never mair part; Till, fuff: he started up the lum, An' Jean had e'en a sair heart To see't that night.

Poor Willie, wi' his bow-kail runt, Was brunt wi' primsie Mallie;

They go to the barn yard, and pull each at three several times, a stalk of oats. If the third stalk wants the top pickle, that is, the grain at the top of the stalk, the party in question will come to the marriage-bed anything but a maid.

When the corn is in a doubtful state, by being too green or wet, the stack-builder, by means of old timber, &c, makes a large apartment in his stack, with an opening in the side which is fairest exposed to the wind: this he calls a fause-house.

3 Burning the nuts is a famous charm. They name the lad and lass to each particular nut as they lay them in the fire, and accordingly as they burn quietly together,

An' Mary, nae doubt, took the drunt,

To be compar'd to Willie;

Mall's nit lap out wi' pridefu' fling,

An' her ain fit it brunt it; While Willie lap, an' swoor, by jing, Twas just the way he wanted To be that night.

Nell had the fause-house in her min';
She pits hersel' an' Rob in;
In loving bleeze they sweetly join,
Till white in ase they're sobbin;
Nell's heart was dancin' at the view,
She whisper'd Rob to leuk for't:
Rob, stowlins, pried her bonnie mou',
Fu' cozie in the neuk for't,
Unseen that night.

But Merran sat behint their backs,
Her thoughts on Andrew Bell;
She lea'es them gashin' at their cracks,
And slips out by hersel':
She through the yard the nearest taks,
An' to the kiln she goes then,
An' darklins graipit for the bauks,
And in the blue-clue throws then,
Right fear't that night.

An' ay she win't, an' ay she swat, I wat she made nae jaukin'; 'Til something held within the pat,

Guid L-d! but she was quakin'! But whether 'twas the deil himsel', Or whether 'twas a bauk-en', Or whether it was Andrew Bell, She did na wait on talkin' To spier that night.

Wee Jenny to her grannie says, "Will ye go wi' me, grannie? I'll eat the apple at the glass,

I gat frae Uncle Johnnie:" She fuff't her pipe wi' sic a lunt, In wrath she was sae vap'rin',

or start from beside one another, the course and issue of the courtship will be.

4 Whoever would with success try this spell must strictly observe these directions:-Steal out, all alone, to the kiln, and darkling, throw into the pot a clue of blue yarn; wind it in a new clue off the old one, and towards the latter end something will hold the thread; demand, Wha hauds?-i.e. Who holds? An answer will be returned from the kiln pot by naming the Christian and surname of your future spouse.

5 Take a candle and go alone to a looking-glass; ent an apple before it, and some traditions say you should comb your hair all the time; the face of your conjugal companion to be will be seen in the glass as if peeping over your shoulder.

She notic't na, an aizle brunt Her braw new worset apron Out thro' that night.

"Ye little skelpie-limmer's face! How daur you try sie sportin', As seek the foul Thief ony place,

For him to spae your fortune: Nae doubt but ye may get a sight!

Great cause ye hae to fear it;
For monie a ane has gotten a fright,
An' liv'd an' died deleeret
On sic a night.

"Ae hairst afore the Shirra-moor,
I mind 't as weel's yestreen,
I was a gilpey then, I'm sure
I was na past fifteen:

The simmer had been cauld an' wat,

An' stuff was unco green;
An' ay a rantin' kirn we gat,
An' just on Halloween
It fell that night.

"Our stibble-rig was Rab M'Graen,
A clever sturdy fallow:
He's sin gat Eppie Sim wi' wean,

That liv'd in Achmacalla:
He gat hemp-seed,1 I mind it well,
And he made unco light o't;
But mony a day was by himsel',
He was sae fairly frighted
That vera night."

Then up gat fechtin' Jamie Fleck,
An' he swoor by his conscience,
That he could saw hemp seed a peck;

For it was a' but nonsense;

The auld guidman raught doun the pock,
An' out a handfu' gied him;
Syne bad him slip frae 'mang the folk,
Sometime when nae ane see'd him,
An' try't that night.

He marches thro' amang the stacks,
Tho' he was something sturtin';
The graip he for a harrow taks,
An' haurls at his curpin;

1 Steal out unperceived and sow a handful of hempseed, harrowing it with anything you can conveniently draw after you. Repeat now and then, “Hemp seed, I saw thee! hemp-seed, I saw thee! and him (or her) that is to be my true love, come after me and pou thee!" Look over your left shoulder, and you will see the appearance of the person invoked in the attitude of pulling hemp. Some traditions say, "Come after me and shaw thee," that is, show thyself; in which case it simply appears. Others omit the harrowing, and say, "Come after me and harrow thee."

An' ev'ry now an' then he says,
Hemp-seed, I saw thee,

An' her that is to be my lass,
Come after me, an' draw thee
As fast this night."

He whistl'd up Lord Lennox' March,
To keep his courage cheery;
Altho' his hair began to arch,

He was sae fley'd an' eerie;
Till presently he hears a squeak,
An' then a grane an' gruntle;
He by his shouther gae a keek,
An' tumbl'd wi' a wintle
Out-owre that night.

He roar'd a horrid murder-shout,
In dreadfu' desperation;

An' young an' auld cam rinnin' out,
To hear the sad narration:
He swoor 'twas hilchin Jean M'Craw,
Or crouchie Merran Humphie,
Till, stop! she trotted thro' them a';
An' wha was it but grumphie
Asteer that night.

Meg fain wad to the barn hae gaen,
To win three wechts o' naething;2
But for to meet the deil her lane,
She pat but little faith in:
She gies the herd a pickle nits,

An' twa red-cheekit apples,
To watch while for the barn she sets,
In hopes to see Tam Kipples
That vera night.

She turns the key wi' cannie thraw,
An' owre the threshold ventures;
But first on Sawnie gies a ca',

Syne bauldly in she enters;

A ratton rattled up the wa',
An' she cried, L-d preserve her!
An' ran thro' midden hole an' a',
An' pray'd wi' zeal and fervour,
Fu' fast that night.

They hoy't out Will, wi' sair advice;

They hecht him some fine braw ane;

and alone. You must go to the barn and open both doors, taking them off the hinges if possible; for there is danger that the being about to appear may shut the doors and do you some mischief. Then take that instrument used in winnowing the corn, which in our country dialect we call a wecht, and go through all the attitudes of letting down corn against the wind. Repeat it three times, and the third time an apparition will pass through the barn, in at the windy door, and out at the other, having both the figure in question and the appearance or retinue marking the employment or