by her intellectual attainments and her great | sound morality, yet that the love of those sweet love of music, was married to William Murray Nairne of the British army, who, in 1824, received the family title of Baron Nairne. The act of Parliament removing the attainder of the family was passed owing to the recommendation of George IV., who learned, during his visit to Scotland in 1822, that the song of "The Attainted Scottish Nobles" was the composition of Lady Nairne. On the 9th of July, 1830, she lost her husband,' and seven years later her only son died in Brussels, where he had gone in company with the baroness for his health. Deprived of both husband and son-the latter a young gentleman of great promise-Lady Nairne, though submitting to the dispensation of Heaven with becoming resignation, did not regain her usual buoyancy of spirit. She was rapidly falling into "the sere, the yellow leaf"-those years in which the words of the inspired sage, "I have no pleasure in them," are too often called forth by mental trials and bodily infirmities. But she bore up nobly. In one of her letters, dated 1840, she says: "I sometimes say to myself, This is no me,' so greatly have my feelings and trains of thought changed since 'auld lang syne;' and though I am made to know assuredly that all is well, I scarcely dare to allow my mind to settle on the past. To this period of her life we owe the ode, "Would you be young again?" and several of her compositions breathing a deeply devotional spirit; "The Laird o' Cockpen," and other humorous and popular songs, having been written previous to her marriage in 1806. Carolina Baroness Nairne died in the same mansion in which she was born, on the 26th of October, 1845, at the advanced age of seventy-nine. Lady Nairne was a prolific writer of Scottish songs and ballads, and in her later years wrote poems expressive of the pious resignation and Christian hope of the author, which, however, appeared anonymously, as her extreme diffidence and modesty shrank from all publicity, She neither wrote for gain or fame, but from a far higher motive. A Scottish writer says: "She knew that the minstrels of ruder times had composed, and, through the aid of the national melodies, transmitted to posterity strains ill fitted to promote the interests of and wild airs made the people tenacious of the The benevolence of Lady Nairne was not confined to the purification of the national minstrelsy, but extended towards the support of many of the philanthropic institutions of her native land, which in her judgment were promoting the temporal comforts, or advancing the spiritual interests of the Scottish people. Her contributions to public as well as private charities were very liberal. In an address delivered by Dr. Chalmers a few weeks after her death, referring to the exertions which had been made for the supply of religious instruction in a certain district of Edinburgh, known as the West Port, he made the following remarks regarding Lady Nairne:-"Let me speak now as to the countenance we have received. I am now at liberty to mention a very noble benefaction which I received about a year ago. Inquiry was made of me by a lady, mentioning that she had a sum at her disposal, and that she wished to apply it to charitable purposes; and she wanted me to enumerate a list of chari table objects in proportion to the estimate I had of their value. Accordingly I furnished her with a scale of five or six charitable objects. The highest in the scale were those institutions which had for their design the Christianizing of the people at home; and I also mentioned to her, in connection with the Christianizing at home, what we were doing at the West Port; and there came to me from her, in the course of a day or two, no less a sum than £300. She is now dead; she is now in her grave, and her works do follow her. When she gave me this noble benefaction, she laid me under strict injunctions of secrecy, and, accordingly, I did not mention her name to any person; but after she was dead, I begged of her nearest heir that I might be allowed to proclaim it, because I thought that her example, so worthy to be followed, might | influence others in imitating her; and I am happy to say that I am now at liberty to state that it was Lady Nairne of Perthshire. It enabled us, at an expense of £330, to purchase sites for schools and a church; and we have got a site in the very heart of the locality, with a very considerable extent of ground for a washing-green, a washing-house, and a playground for the children, so that we are a good step in advance towards the completion of our parochial economy." Some years after Lady Nairne's death, the relations and literary friends of the deceased, thinking very correctly that there was no longer any reason for withholding from the public the secret of the authorship of her numerous charming compositions, published an elegant volume, entitled "Lays from Strathearn; by Carolina Baroness Nairne," containing about one hundred of her songs and ballads, the most popular of which are, 'The Land o' the Leal;" "The Laird o' Cockpen "—lays that the world will not willingly let die. In 1869 another volume appeared, called, “Life and Songs of the Baroness Nairne; with a Memoir and Poems of Carolina Oliphant, the Younger, edited by Rev. Charles Rogers, LL.D., F.S. A. Scot.;" accompanied by a portrait and other illustrations. THE PLEUGHMAN. There's high and low, there's rich and poor, His dreams are sweet upon his bed, The lark sae sweet, that starts to meet All fresh and gay, at dawn of day Their labours they renew, man; Heaven bless the seed, and bless the soil, CALLER HERRIN'.1 Wha'll buy caller herrin'? When ye were sleepin' on your pillows, Buy my caller herrin', New drawn frae the Forth. Wha'll buy my caller herrin'? They're no brought here without brave daring; Buy my caller herrin', Haul'd thro' wind and rain. Wha'll buy caller herrin'? &c. Wha'll buy my caller herrin'? Wha'll buy caller herrin'? &c. 1 This song was written for Nathaniel Gow son of the celebrated Neil Gow.-Ed. When the creel o' herrin' passes, Cast their heads, and screw their faces. Caller herrin's no got lightlie; Wha'll buy caller herrin'? &c. Neebour wives, now tent my tellin', THE LAIRD O' COCKPEN.1 The Laird o' Cockpen he's proud and he's great, Down by the dyke-side a lady did dwell, His wig was weel pouther'd, and as gude as new, He took the gray mare, and rade cannily-- Mistress Jean was makin' the elder-flower wine, And when she cam' ben, he bowed fu' low, Dumbfounder'd he was, nae sigh did he gie; He mounted his mare- -he rade cannily; The two last stanzas were added, to complete the song, by Miss Mary Ferrier, authoress of Marriage, Inheritance, and Destiny,-novels that were greatly admired by Sir Walter Scott.-Ed. And aften he thought, as he gaed through the glen, She's daft to refuse the Laird o' Cockpen. And now that the Laird his exit had made, Mistress Jean she reflected on what she had sail; "Oh! for ane I'll get better, it's waur I'll get ten, I was daft to refuse the Laird o' Cockpen." Next time that the Laird and the Lady were seen. They were gaun arm-in-arm to the kirk on the green; Now she sits in the ha' like a weel-tappit hen, But as yet there's nae chickens appeared at Cockpen. GUDE NICHT, AND JOY BE WI YE A'! The best o' joys maun hae an end, The best o' friends maun part, I trow; The langest day will wear away, And I maun bid farewell to you. The tear will tell when hearts are fu”, For words, gin they hae sense ava, They're broken, faltering, and few: Gude nicht, and joy be wi' ye a'! Oh, we hae wander'd far and wide, O'er Scotia's lands o' frith and fell! And mony a simple flower we've pu'd, And twined it wi' the heather-bell. We've ranged the dingle and the dell, The cot house, and the baron's ha'; Now we maun tak a last farewell: Gude nicht, and joy be wi' ye a'! My harp farewell! thy strains are past, Of gleefu' mirth, and heartfelt care; The voice of song maun cease at last, And minstrelsy itsel' decay. But, oh! whar sorrow canna win, Nor parting tears are shed ava', May we meet neighbor, kith, and kin, And joy for aye be wi' us a'! THE HUNDRED PIPERS. Wi' a hundred pipers an' a', an' a',. Oh! our sodger lads looked braw, looked braw, Wi' their bonnets, an' feathers, an' glittering gear, And mothers grat when they marched away. Oh wha is foremost o' a', o' a'? Oh wha does follow the blaw, the blaw? The Esk was swollen sae red and sae deep, Dumfounder'd the English saw-they saw- Wi' a hundred pipers an' a', an' a', THE LAND O' THE LEAL.1 I'm wearin' awa', John, Like snaw wreaths in thaw, John: To the land o' the leal. There's nae sorrow there, John; There's neither cauld nor care, John; The day's aye fair I' the land o' the leal. 1 This beautiful lyric appeared in print soon after the death of Burns, and in its more popular version was supposed to express his dying thoughts, although in its original form there is no trace of such an intention on the part of Lady Nairne. Dr. Rogers states that it was written in 1798, on the death of the eldest child of her friends Mr. and Mrs. Colquhoun of Killermont. The following is the popular, and perhaps improved, version:-Ed. I'm wearin' awa', Jean, Like snaw when it's thaw, Jean, I'm wearin' awa' To the land o' the leal. Our bonnie bairn's there, John; To the land o' the leal. In the land o' the leal. Sae dear's that joy was bought, John, To the land o' the leal. To the land o' the leal. Oh, haud ye leal and true, John! Your day it's wearin' thro', John; And I'll welcome you To the land o' the leal. Now fare ye weel, my ain John, This warld's cares are vain, John; We'll meet, and we'll be fain, In the land o' the leal. SAW YE NAE MY PEGGY? Saw ye nae my Peggy? Saw ye nae my Peggy comin' Through Tillibelton's broom? I'm frae Aberdagie, There's nae sorrow there, Jean; There's neither cauld nor care, Jean; The day is aye fair In the land o' the leal. Our bonnie bairn's there, Jean; She was baith gude and fair, Jean; And oh! we grudged her sair To the land o' the leal. But sorrow's sel' wears past, Jean, And joy is coming fast, JeanThe joy that's aye to last In the land o' the leal. Ye were aye leal and true, Jean, Your task's ended now, Jean, And I'll welcome you To the land o' the leal. Now fare you well, my ain Jean; This warld's care is vain, Jean; We'll meet and will be fain In the land o' the leal. 'Twas but at the dawin', Clear the cock was crawin', I saw Peggy cawin' Hawkie by the brier. Early bells were ringin', Blythest birds were singin', Sweetest flowers were springin', A' her heart to cheer. Now the tempest's blawin', Oh, now to be wi' her! I'd gie Scotland's crown. CAULD KAIL IN ABERDEEN. There's cauld kail in Aberdeen, There's castocks in Strabogie: And morn and e'en, they're blythe and bein, I'll tell ye true, ye'll never rue, Young Will was braw and weel put on: Wha wad hae thocht at wooin' time. Sair Mary wrought, sair Mary grat. |