Page images
PDF
EPUB
[blocks in formation]

"Ower the seas I march this morning,
Listed, tested, sworn and a',
Forc'd by your confounded girning-
Farewell, Meg! for I'm awa'."

Then poor Maggy's tears and clamour
Gush'd afresh, and louder grew,
While the weans, wi' mournfu' yaumer,
Round their sabbing mother flew.

"Through the yirth I'll wanner wi' you-
Stay, O Watty! stay at hame;
Here, upon my knees, I'll gi'e you
Ony vow you like to name.

"See your poor young lammies pleadin',
Will ye gang and break our heart?
No a house to put our head in!
No a friend to take our part!"
Ilka word came like a bullet;
Watty's heart begoud to shake;
On a kist he laid his wallet,

Dighted baith his een and spake :

"If ance mair I cou'd by writing
Lea' the sogers and stay still,
Wad you swear to drap your flyting?"
'Yes, O Watty, yes, I will."

"Then," quo' Watty, "mind, be honest;
Aye to keep your temper strive;
Gin ye break this dreadfu' promise,
Never mair expect to thrive.

"Marget Howe, this hour ye solemn

Swear by everything that's gude, Ne'er again your spouse to scaul' him,

While life warms your heart and blood.

"That ye'll ne'er in Mungo's seek meNe'er put drucken to my nameNever out at e'ening steek me-

Never gloom when I come hame.
"That ye'll ne'er, like Bessy Miller,
Kick my shins or rug my hair;
Lastly, I'm to keep the silier—
This upon your saul you swear?

2 U

"O-h!" quo' Meg. "Aweel!" quo' By which ye'll ken on whatna side I'm

Watty,

"Farewell! faith I'll try the seas."

"O stand still," quo' Meg, and grat aye; "Ony, ony way ye please."

Maggy syne, because he prest her,

Swore to a' thing ower again :

Watty lap, and danced, and kist her;
Wow! but he was won'rous fain!

RAB AND RINGAN.

A TALE.

[Recited before the Pantheon Club, Edinburgh, when the subject of debate was: "Whether is diffidence or the allurements of pleasure the greatest bar to progress in knowledge?"]

Introduction.

Hech! but its awfu' like to rise up here, Where sic a sight o' learned folks' pows appear!

Sae mony piercing een a' fixed on ane
Is maist enough to freeze me to a stane!
But it's a mercy—mony thanks to fate,
Pedlars are poor, but unco seldom blate.

(Speaking to the President.)

This question, sir, has been right weel disputed,

And meikle, weel-a-wat's, been said about

it i Chiels that precisely to the point can speak,

And gallop o'er lang blauds of kittle Greek,

Hae sent frae ilka side their sharp opinion, And peeled it up as ane wad peel an ingon.

I winna plague you lang wi' my poor spale,

But only crave your patience to a tale :

stanin',

[blocks in formation]

But whirled to plays and balls, and sic- Sae meikle learning wi' sae little pride,

[blocks in formation]

Now, Mr President, I think 'tis plain
That youthfu' diffidence is certain gain.
Instead of blocking up the road to
knowledge,

It guides alike in commerce or at college;
Struggles the bursts of passion to control,
Feeds all the finer feelings of the soul;
Defies the deep-laid stratagems of guile,
And gives even innocence a sweeter smile;
Ennobles all the little worth we have,
And shields our virtue even to the grave.

How vast the difference, then, between
the twain,

He kend how mony miles 'twas to the Since pleasure ever is pursued by pain. Pleasure's a syren with inviting arms, Sweet is her voice and powerful are her

moon,

How mony rake wad lave the ocean toom;
Where a' the swallows gaed in time of

snaw;

What gars the thunders roars, and tempests blaw;

Where lumps o' siller grow aneath the grun';

charms;

Lured by her call we tread her flowery ground,

Joy wings our steps and music warbles round.

Lulled in her arms we lose the flying hours, How a' this yirth rows round about the And lie embosomed 'midst her blooming

[blocks in formation]

In short, on books sae meikle time he Till, armed with death, she watches our spent, undoing,

Ye couldna' speak o' aught, but Ringan Stabs while she sings, and triumphs in our ruin.

kent.

OLIPHANT,

[blocks in formation]

Baroness listless exotics, but the vigorous products of the soil. The more practical parts of education were not neglected; and on arriving at maturity, Caroline Oliphant was a very accomplished young woman, her national enthusiasm fired with the recollection of all that was romantic in the history of her native land, and her tastes trained to

after-life she found enjoyment in a wider range of sympathies, without lessening her interest in the country of her birth.

CAROLINE Nairne, the greatest of Scotland's female song-writers, was born on the 16th August 1766, at the old mansionhouse of Gask, in Perthshire. Her father, Laurence Oliphant, the laird of Gask, a cadet of the ancient and distinguished family of Oliphant, was an ardent adherent of the Stuart cause, having taken an active part in the re-appreciate its ideas and manners; yet in bellion of 1745, on account of which the family estates were forfeited. Her mother was a daughter of Duncan Robertson of Strowan, chief of the clan Robertson, or Donnachie, also an adherent of the Jacobite cause. It is no wonder, then, to find the future poetess named after the "Young Chevalier." Both families suffered severely for their political convictions, and had therefore to practise a wholesome economy in their domestic habits; yet time, rather than the hardships to which it subjected them, alone tempered the ardour of their misplaced loyalty, and a lock of the prince's hair is still held as a precious heirloom by the Oliphants of Gask.

In 1792, her father died; and while still residing at Gask with her brother Laurence, she became interested in the rich collections of national songs which the genius of Burns was reviving and creating, and she felt stimulated to help the work of purifying the sentiments to which some of our finest old airs were sung. Her first attempt was "The Pleughman," which was soon followed by "John Tod," "The Laird of Cockpen," and others.

On the 2d of June 1806, she was married to her cousin, Major William Nairne, assistant Inspector-General of Mrs Oliphant died in 1774, and barracks in Scotland; and after residing Caroline, with her brothers and sister, some time at Portobello, they took up was placed in charge of a governess. their residence at Duddingston, where Dancing and music were the favourite her uncle, the chief of the Robertsons, amusements of the family, and the presented her with a villa which was famous Neil Gow often brought the soul named after her. Here she formed an of the one to sustain the life of the other. accomplished, but-so far as literature It need hardly be added that neither were | is concerned—a disguised member of the

Edinburgh society of which Scott was beginning to form the centre. She had written "The Land of the Leal" some time before she left Gask (about 1798); yet the secret of her being a song-writer was known to but a few of her most intimate friends: even her publisher knew her only in the assumed individuality of Mrs Bogan of Bogan.

In 1824, Major Nairne had the forfeited rank and titles of his family in the peerage of Scotland restored to him, and in 1830 he died, leaving an only

son.

On her husband's death, Lady | Nairne removed to Clifton, and afterwards to Ireland; but in 1834, she removed to the Continent in search of a milder climate for her son, whose health showed signs of weakness.

The two last years of her life were mostly occupied in the promotion of similar projects. She died on the 26th October 1845, in her seventy-ninth year, and was buried in the private chapel built by her brother beside the house of Gask.

[ocr errors]

Lady Nairne stands next to Burns in the breadth and diversity of her talents as a song-writer. She does not manifest the same command over the passions as Burns does; and her love songs, as "The Lass of Gowrie," and " Huntingtower," though excellent of their kind, have not the depth of feeling which characterises her Land o' the Leal." "Caller Herrin'," "The Laird o' Cockpen," and "John Todd,” are real original sketches, and equal to any songs in the same vein; while "Charlie is my Darling," "Will ye no come back again?" and "The Hundred Pipers," and two or three others, display the Jacobite spirit to perfection. "The Rowan Tree," "Songs of my Native Land," and others, prove the depth of her patriotic sentiments and love of locality. Her "Twa Doos" is an admirable sample of that humour which is one of the most delightful characteristics of canny old Scotch folk, which we fear is fast fading before the fashionable in

After having tried all the health-resorts of the Continent, William, sixth Lord Nairne, died at Brussels in December 1837, and was there buried. Lady Nairne, accompanied by her sister, Mrs Keith, continued to reside on the Continent, moving about from place to place, and everywhere trying to relieve the distress which she saw around her. At length, on the invitation of her brother, who went to Paris for the purpose of bringing her home, she returned to Scotland, and took up her abode at Gask in 1843. She soon began to influences of present social conditions. terest herself in the affairs of her native land, particularly in schemes of bene-lected and edited, with her permission, volence, and for the diffusion of religion. In all her contributions for these ends she acted, as in her authorship, anony- | mously; and it was not till after her death that Dr Chalmers felt at liberty to mention her name as the donor of £300 to his West Port Territorial Scheme.

Lady Nairne's songs were being col

under the title of Lays of Strathearn, without her name, shortly before her death, but were not issued till after it. An edition, with a memoir prefixed, has since been edited by Dr Rogers, with the title of The Life and Songs of the Baroness Nairne.

« ՆախորդըՇարունակել »