continued the peasant, " for two stout men could with difficulty
remove the stone. It also was surmisal that the wretch had
fled to Ireland, as he never was apprehended for the crime."
The Pear- Tree- Well, above alluded to, is said to have received
its name from a pear-tree which formerly grew over it : at present
the fountain is guarded by a branching plane-tree, and two stately
elms ; the well which here overlooks the Kelvin in one of its most
romantic scenes of wood and valley, is arched over with stone and
rudely paved in front, where the thirsty pilgrim, who chooses to
222 THE WINTER BOWER.
visit this western Arcadia of ours, and drink of its refreshing
waters, will find an iron ladle, attached to a chain of the same
metal, rivetted into a side stone of the fountain, bearing this
memorable inscription :
" STOLEN FROM THE PEA'-TREE-WELL. "
THE WINTER BOWER.
Air." THE ROSE-TREE."
YON winter bower is fairer,
WLen moonshine's around the glade;
These glens to me are dearer
Than balmy summer's flowery shade :
As through the pines we wander,
Where rushes down the mountain stream
In all its native grandeur,
Reflected o'er by Cynthia's beam.
I ranged the woodland's border,
Where gay flowers in summer grow;
But all in wild disorder
Lay wreathed in the drifting snow:
Yet round the bower the Christmas rose,
And holly's scarlet berries hung,
I twined them on my love's brows,
And kiss'd the garland blooming round.
THE SOLDIER'S RETURN. 223
THE SOLDIER'S RETURN.
A soldier wandering o'er the fields,
Viewing the pleasures sweet summer yields,
Espied a maiden at close of day,
Whilst hay was making,
She was busy raking her father's green hay.
All faint and weary he sat him down,
And eyed the maiden, whose smile had flown,
For thoughts hung wild round her heart, whene'er
Fond dreams recalling
Hush'd hopes that swelling, turn'd back on her dear.
O tell me, soldier ! but no, she cries,
In foreign clime, my love's body lies,
No friend wept o'er him but heaven's dew,
O bloody Flanders!
His spirit wanders thy death- valleys through.
The soldier sigh'd as her dark eyes ran
O'er his war-worn features: dim and wan
Grew eye and cheek, as life's current holds
Back on her fond heart:
Close to his fond heart, his love he infolds.
The opening lines of the above, as well as those of the follow-
ing Song, are taken from traditional Ballads, by way of rescuing
from oblivion their respective airs, which are eminently beautiful,
and peculiar to the Ballads themselves.
224 PRETTY MAID. WELCOME SUMMER.
THERE was a pretty plough-boy,
A ploughing of his land,
Made his horses stand under a shade,
While he sang so sweet and shrill,
That each valley, wood, and hill,
Rung back the choral-melody: Sweet maid!
Breezy zephyr caught the echo, Pretty maid!
By the streamlet's dimpling bosom,
Sat the plough-boy's blooming fair;
As his song floated up through the glade,
While she caught the cheering sound,
By young echo trill'd around,
And bade her whisper down the dell, " Your maid!
Pretty maid !
Soon will meet you by the fountain in the shade."
WELCOME SUMMER BACK AGAIN.
Air. "HIGHLAND HARRY BACK AGAIN."
IN Floras train the graces wait,
And chase rude winter from the plain;
As on she roves, the wild flowers spring,
And welcome summer back again :
Spring dances o'er the plain,
Flowering all the woodland scene ;
Then join with me, my lovely May,
To welcome summer back again.
SPRING'S ANTICIPATION. 225
The budding wild will soon perfume
The air, when balm'd by April's rain,
'Mong banks clad o'er wi' waving broom,
We'll welcome summer back again :
In yon sequester'd scene,
The mavis sings his cheerful strain,
And there we'll meet, my lovely May,
To welcome summer back again.
When yellow cowslips scent the mead,
Then gladness o'er the plains will reign,
And soon, my love! we'll pu' the flowers,
And welcome summer back again :
Spring dances o'er the plain,
Flowering all the woodland scene,
With blooming garlands in her train,
To welcome summer back again.
THOUGH winter o'er the hills and glens,
In dreary wreathes reposes;
Though lone and hoary droops the briar,
So late clad o'er with roses:
Yet soon the lovely days of spring
Will leaf the bending grove;
Then soft the breeze will fan the air,
And all will breathe of love.
I sat within the holly's shade,
Bright winter's sun shone o'er me;
Glancing upon the ice-bound rill,
That mirror'd lay before me:
No summer scene can soothe the breast,
Like winter in her prime ;
So virgin pure, her mantle floats
Like vestal's at the shrine.
Awakening with the blackbird's call,
The drooping snow-drop's blowing;
The cowslip, and the violets blue,
On the gale their sweet breaths are strewing:
Oh it is sweet in glen or grove,
To watch young spring's return,
On wind-flower bank, or crocus bed,
Where the murmuring waters run.
SEE the glow-worm lits her fairy lamp,
From a beam of the rising moon;
On the heathy shore at evening fall,
Twixt Holy-Loch, and dark Dunoon:
Her fairy lamp's pale silvery glare,
From the dew-clad, moorland flower,
Invite my wandering footsteps there,
At the lonely twilight hour.
When the distant beacon's revolving light
Bids my lone steps seek the shore,
There the rush of the flow-tide's rippling wave
Meets the dash of the fisher's oar;
And the dim-seen steam-boat's hollow sound,
As she sea- ward tracks her way;
All else are asleep in the still calm night,
And robed in the misty gray.
When the glow-worm lits her elfin lamp,
And the night breeze sweeps the hill ;
It's sweet, on thy rock-bound shores, Dunoon,
To wander at fancy's will.
Eliza! with thee, in this solitude,
Life's cares would pass away,
Like the fleecy clouds over gray Kilmun,
At the wake of early day.
The Glow-worm (Lampyris Noctiluca) on mild summer even-
ings, especially after a shower of rain, are to be found in great
abundance among the long grass and moss between Dunoon and
the Holy-Loch, where the surrounding scenery renders this sin-
gular insect doubly interesting. The female is larger than the
male, and emits a beautiful light (apparently phosphorescent, but
not really so), for the purpose of attracting the male; this issues
from the four last rings of the abdomen : the male has a power of
emitting a feeble light, but very disproportionate to that of the
female. Two or three of these insects inclosed in a glass vase,
will give a light sufficient to enable a person to read in the darkest
night. There are fifty-two species of this insect scattered over
the four quarters of the globe, of which two only are found in
our own country, viz. the Glow-worm and the Fire-fly.
228 KELVIN GROVE.
LET us haste to Kelvin grove, bonnie lassie, O,
Through its mazes let us rove, bonnie lassie, O,
Where the rose in all her pride,
Paints the hollow dingle side,
Where the midnight fairies glide, bonnie lassie, O.
Let us wander by the mill, bonnie lassie, O,
To the cove beside the rill, bonnie lassie, O,
Where the glens rebound the call,
Of the roaring waters' fall,
Through the mountain's rocky hall, bonnie lassie, O.
O Kelvin banks are fair, bonnie lassie, O,
When in summer we are there, bonnie lassie, O,
There, the May-pink's crimson plume,
Throws a soft, but sweet perfume,
Round the yellow banks of broom, bonnie lassie, O.
Though I dare not call thee mine, bonnie lassie, O,
As the smile of fortune's thine, bonnie lassie, O,
Yet with fortune on my side,
I could stay thy father's pride,
And win thee for my bride, bonnie lassie, O.
But the frowns of fortune lower, bonnie lassie, O,
On thy lover at this hour, bonnie lassie, O,
Ere yon golden orb of day
Wake the warblers on the spray,
From this land I must away, bonnie lassie, O.
BONNIE ANN. 229
Then farewell to Kelvin grove, bonnie lassie, O,
And adieu to all I love, bonnie lassie, O,
To the river winding clear,
To the fragrant scented breer,
Even to thee of all most dear, bonnie lassie, O.
When upon a foreign shore, bonnie lassie, O,
Should I fall midst battle's roar, bonnie lassie, O,
Then, Helen ! shouldst thou hear
Of thy lover on his bier,
To his memory shed a tear, bonnie lassie, O.
IN summer blooms the white moss-rose,
Pure, spotless, as the swan;
Yet peerless as celestial-rose,
And fair, grew bonnie Ann !
When youth smiled round my yellow locks,
Ere age had stamp'd me man;
How light the golden days wing'd ott
When near my lovely Ann!
Yes, weeping friends! when fell disease
Through all her vitals ran;
Ye little dream'd this throbbing heart
Beat high for bonnie Ann!
230 FORTUNE'S FROLICS.
How angel-like the drooping maid)
With face all pale and wan,
Embraced me, sigh'd, then faintly smiled
Adieu! said bonnie Ann!
I call'd upon my love, and wept,
And gazed, till death began
To film her hazel eyes, then shriek'd,
And swoon'd on sainted Ann!
The struggle's o'er! yon chesnut showers
His fragrance round the span,
Where rests the urn, and bends the yew
O'er the grave of bonnie Ann.
THE damsel who roams like a bee 'mongst the flowers,
And kills with her glances each youth flitting round,
As she flaunts through the gala of morn's rosy hours,
May be chill'd by detraction, where rivals abound:
Ruffled flowers court decay
Early blown soon away
When fresh beauties range round in the garden of life,
Never more will yon maid,
Who now droops in the shade,
Be cared for or courted by you for a wife.
SMILE THROUGH THY TEARS. 231
The debtor when stripp'd by some rogue of his all,
'S turn'd adrift on the world, former friends seem his foes ;
While the caitiff who robb'd him, smiles over his fall,
And fattens, though drench'd from the dunghill he rose!
Even those who were dear
When prosperity's ear
Only heard of your worth, nor your foibles could trace
Revile, slight, and shun ye,
In misery dun ye,
When the shorn-beams of favour glance cold in your face.
SMILE THROUGH THY TEARS.
SMILE through thy tears, like the blush moss-rose,
When the warm rains fall around it;
Thy fond heart now may seek repose,
From the rankling griefs that wound it.
For a parent's loss the eye may fill,
And weep till the heart runs over;
But the pang is longer and deeper still,
That wails o'er the grave of a lover.
Smile through thy tears, like the pale primrose,
When the zephyrs play around it;
In me let thy trembling heart repose,
I will ward the sorrows that wound it.
Ah! vain were the wish, such love to crave,
As warmed thy maiden bosom;
Ere Henry slept, where the alders wave,
O'er the night-shade's drooping blossom.
232 WELLBURN'S MARY. PRINCE CHARLIE.
I mark'd the calm on her young fair face,
As grief's rude storm passed o'er it;
But the ebbing smile had left no trace
Of struggles that rush'd before it.
Each grief has its day: love weep them away,
As the shower on April's blossom
Balms the drooping flower, till the sun's bright ray
Drinks the tears from its virgin bosom.
The flush o'er her fair face went and came,
As I show'd her a true-love token;
I whisper'd hope, and the young god came,
But her virgin heart was broken !
In Wellburn garden, the white lilies bloom,
Eke the rose round the jessamine's twining ;
But they wither'd o'er Wellburn Mary's tomb,
Ere the red winter sun there was shining.
THOUGH bonnie raise the winter moon,
Yet weir an' strife rang wild aroun',
As Charlie an' his clans cam' down
Frae England, o'er the border:
Their dinsom pibrochs' melody,
Brought the tear frae mony an' e'e,
To think what Charlie yet might dree,
Wi' peril for his warder.
His diamond e'en, as black as sloes,
Were laughing o'er his Roman nose;
His cheeks like maiden-blushing rose ;
His teeth like ivory showing,
Whene'er he smiled; the prince was there
In's dimpled chin, an' brent brow fair,
An' curling locks of sandy hair,
Beneath his bonnet flowing.
O mother! ye maun come an' see
Their tents, aboon Lord Cassel's lea;
An' tak' them what ye hae to gie,
Afore the morning early :
For oh ! I fear hope's feeble rays,
Looks forward still on better days !
To flee before his kintra's faes,
Can bode sma' gude to Charlie.
The above Jacobite attempt was suggested after some conversa-
tion held with a poor woman, now in the 102d year of her age.
In the memorable 1745, when Charles was upon his retreat from
England, he pitched his tents for two nights and a day in her
neighbourhood; and the second stanza of the foregoing, describes
the Chevalier's personal appearance, such as then had been im-
pinged upon her mind, and from which description she never de-
viates. The fortunes of the prince, so far as they came within
the scope of our centarian's observations, are sufficiently interest-
ing, but without our province in this place.
234 THE SHEPHERD AND ECHO.
THE SHEPHERD AND ECHO.
Dixerat, hie quis adest ? Et adest, responderat echo.
Inde latet silvis, nulloque in monte videtur. OVID.
YOUNG echo lived within a rock,
Alone, and far from human dwelling;
Where torrents wild the stillness broke,
All silence from the glens dispelling.
Her wild and never-ceasing wail,
Resounding steep, and greenwood over,
Drew a shepherd from the vale,
Whose sighings told, he was a lover.
He sought her long through glen and dale,
Aye she answer'd to his calling,
But never came; the rustling gale
Drown'd her sighs in the water's falling.
She must be fair for her voice is sweet,
Sad for its sounds are steep'd in sorrow:
O maiden! leave this lone retreat,
And hie with me to the plains to-morrow.
But echo laugh'd till the welkin rung,
And flew on the breeze the greenwood over,
While birds their sweetest warblings sung,
Where pleased and grieved, reclined the lover.
He sought the grotto, ranged the grove,
The sedgy brook, the winding alley;
Then sighing, call'd again* " My love!"
" My love!" rung back along the valley.
Like pilgrim, to the vale again
His wandering footsteps onward bore him ;
Her voice came laughing through the glen,
Then died in breezy whispers o'er him.
'Tis a wild-goose chase! I'll seek my home,
And woo a maid less coy deceiving
While echo answer'd, " Seek my home!"
And left the lass-lorn shepherd grieving.
Air." THE YOUNG MAY MOON."
THE woodlark sang through fair Bowerdale,
His wild notes rang over wood and vale,
But Helen, the flower,
Left alone in the bower,
Where I parted from her, was cold and pale.
I woo'd her there, I had loved her long;
For her I had left the city's throng;
All the world behind,
I gave to the wind;
With Helen to live, and to love alone.
What sorrows were ours when fortune fled,
And hope's illusive dreams were dead;
Fond feelings that rush'd
Through my bosom, were crush'd
In their dawn, when ruin hung o'er my head
My heart grew cold, though I feign'd to smile,
As she hung on my neck with endearing wile,
While the sad farewell
On my damp brow fell,
When I tore from my love and my native isle!
Through India's plains I roam'd afar,
And courted solace 'midst the strife of war:
Yet by night or by day,
Through danger's array,
She beam'd in my bosom hope's brightest star !
I return'd, and sought through fair Bowerdale
The friend of my love but sorrow's wail
Rung wild through the woods,
O'er the dales and the floods ;
For Helen, their angel, was cold and pale !
Aw AY I from the dread fascinations that flow'd,
Where the wine circled round, and the warm bosom glow'd,
With estrangement of feeling, I knew not its own,
So wildly it throbb'd, and more wild when alone:
THE FATE OF EVELINA. 237
I sought the deep grove, and the night's chilling breeze,
Where the cottage of Jessy was seen through the trees;
And vow'd soon as morning gave reason her reign,
That I never would play the wild rover again.
I wander'd unconscious that love led me there,
Till I lean'd on the oak by the blooming parterre:
O night! thou art lovely when stars twinkle bright;
But the star of my hopes met my rapturous sight
As she knelt in devotion; her orisons rose
On the whispers of night, ere she sought her repose,
While her wanderer vow'd as he paced o'er the plain,
That he never would play the wild rover again.
THE FATE OF EVELINA.
THE lava was rolling his burning flood
O'er the vineyards since day begun;
While the dense dark clouds threw a midnight veil
On the bright meridian sun!
Yon burning groves will light our way
Evelina, fly ! thy loved cottage shun
To a safe retreat, since the lamp of day
Is gone from our sight. From ruin run
Beloved Evelina, come !
238 THE FATE OF EVELINA.
The poison'd breeze should its tainted breath
In our face blow the sulphurous air,
From the lava's tide 'twere instant death
To linger a moment there.
Where the palm and the olive lights the gloom,
And the hissing lava seeks its prey,
Vesuvius hath seal'd Resina's doom,
My loved one fly ! we dare not stay
Beloved Evelina, come!
In vain the peasant besought his bride,
To flee from the mount to the plain;
But she rush'd through the burning olive grove,
Her loved cottage to regain:
When the lava closed, and the fire-shower fell,
And the earthquake shook the ground;
Still the peasant linger'd with frantic yell,
Calling loud through the ruins around,
Beloved Evelina, come !
The catastrophe narrated here, is presumed to have taken place
during the great eruption of Mount Vesuvius, in June 1794, as
described by Sir William Hamilton, in the Philosophical Trans-
actions, voL 73; after reading his remarks made while at Rosarno^
and the ruined towns around it, especially the first sentence of the
" The male dead were generally found under the ruins, in the
attitude of struggling against the danger ; but the female attitude
was usually with hands clasped over their heads, as giving them-
selves up to despair, unless they had children near them. In
which case, they were always found clasping the children in their
arms, or in some attitude or other, which indicated their anxious
care to protect them. A strong instance of the maternal tender-
ness of the sex."
TO LAURA. 239
Now the sweet scented Hare-bell,
Bright herald of May,
With the Pansy and Wind-flower,
Cause woodlands look gay;
How fleeting their blossoms,
Till the Rose has her day;
Next the Star-flowers of autumn
Chase Rosa away.
Thus bloom and pass over,
The pride of our year;
Each flower's called the fairest,
Till her sisters appear:
Dear Laura, believe me,
Thy spring, like the flowers
Now blooming, will pass away,
Pale from our bowers.
Since morning, the Day-rose
Smiled proudly around,
Now evening her ruby leaves
Strew on the ground;
Then cloud not life's sunshine
With scorns and delay,
Till thy charms, like our summer
Flowers, all pass away.
240 THE DESPONDING SHEPHERD.
THE DESPONDING SHEPHERD.
I ance knew content, but its smiles are awa',
The broom blooms bonnie, an' grows sae fair;
Each tried friend forsakes me, sweet Phebe an' a',
So I never will gae down to the broom ony mair.
How light was my step, and my heart, O how gay!
The broom blooms bonnie, the broom blooms fair;
Till Phebe was crown'd our queen of the May, [air.
When the bloom o' the broom strew'd its sweets on the
She was mine when the snaw-draps hung white on the lea,
Ere the broom bloom'd bonnie, an' grew sae fair;
Till May-day, anither wysed Phebe frae me,
So I ne'er will gae down to the broom ony mair.
Sing, Love, thy fond promises melt like the snaw,
When broom waves lonely, an' bleak blaws the air;
For Phebe to me now is naething ava,
If my heart could say, " Gang to the broom nae mair."
Durst I trow that thy dreams in the night hover o'er,
Where broom blooms bonnie, an' grows sae fair;
The swain (who, while waking, thou thinks of no more,)
Whisp'ring, "Love, will ye gang to the broom ony mair?"
No! Fare thee well Phebe; I'm owre wae to weep,
Or to think o' the broom growing bonnie an' fair;
Since thy heart is anither's, in death I maun sleep,
'Neath the broom on the lea, an' the bawm sunny air.
THE TOKEN FLOWER. 241
Iri Johnson's " Musical Museum," we find the fragment of a
repulsive legendary Ballad, with a similar burthen to that of the
foregoing. There is also a traditional Ballad upon record, of
which we regret our inability to procure more than the com-
Ae king's dochter said to anither,
Broom blooms bonnie, an' grows sae fair,
We'llgae ride like sister and brither,
But we'll never gae down to the broom nae inair.
Again, Sir Walter Scott causes his Effie Deans, in the " Heart
of Mid-Lothian," to sing a stanza of a similar choral Ballad :
The elfin knight sat on the brae,
The broom grows bonnie, the broom grows fair,
And by there cam' lilting a lady so gay,
And we darna' gang down to the broom nae mair.
THE TOKEN FLOWER.
Air.** PRETTY PEG OF DERBY."
How bonnie is the glen in the greenwood shaw,
Where the wild roses bloom, and the breezes blaw
Through the sunny summer dells,
Where the woodland music swells
O'er the lily, and the bonnie blue Forget-me-not.
O tell me a flower in the garden or wild,
So modest, and so peerless, as summer's fair child;
Not a brighter floweret blows,
Even the blush celestial-rose,
Must yield to the bonnie blue Forget-me-not.
242 THE TOKEN FLOWp:R.
By the cress-cover'd fountain where its sparkling waters run,
Thy azure star with golden breast is smiling to the sun.
While the violets that bloom
Round the fane at Beauty's tomb,
Are gemm'd with the bonnie blue Forget-me-not.
Dearest emblem of Friendship, thou beauty of the grove !
Thy pale blue eye, like my Laura's, beams with love;
And when Laura courts the shade,
Whisper softly to the maid,
That thy name, lovely flower! is Forget-me-not.
Marsh Scorpion grass, the Myosotis Palustris of botanists, is
a wild flower possessing uncommon beauty. This Token Flower,
the Forget-me-not, is the acknowledged emblem of Friendship
throughout every country of civilized Europe. Five species of
this beautiful genus of plants are natives of Scotland.
A blythe and bonnie country lass, - - - 69
A captain of Irish Dragoons on parade, - - - 162
A soldier wandering o'er the fields, - - - - 223
A wee bit north frae yon green wood, - - - 138
Adieu, my false inconstant love, - - - - - 189
Adieu, my love, my life, my bless, my being, - - 1 26
Ah ! pleasant land of France, farewell, 97
Alas! sweet love, that ever my poor eyes, - - - 125
All as a sea the world no other is, - - - 14-
April is in my Mary's face, 214-
Are lofty Parnass' sacred shades disdain'd, - - - 117
As at noon Dulcina rested, 26
As I gaed o'er the Highland hills, - 155
As Jocky was trudging the meadows along, - - - 157
As I was a- walking one morning in May, - - - 159
As I went out on an evening clear, - - - - 158
As I went out on a May morning, - - - - 153
Ask me no more where Jove bestows, - 76
At gloamin' gray, the close o' day, - 168
Away from the dread fascinations that flowed, - - 236
Beauty hath mine eyes assail'd, - - _ _ -122
Beauty sat bathing by a spring, - 22
Bereft of breath, yit nocht from lyfe depoised, - - 130
Bleak Soracte meets my sight, - 205
Calling to mind the heavenly feature, - - - - 118
Can any cross, shall ever intervene, - - - _ 125
Canst thou love and lie alone, _____ 59
Can,st thou, Marina, leave the world, - 87
Cherry-ripe, ripe, ripe, ripe, I cry, - 34
Chloe! why wish you that your years, - ' - " - 79
Cold winter's ice is fled and gone, - - - - - 17
Come let us mingle with the purpling vine, - - 207
Come away, come sweet love, - - - - ,47
Come, sweet love, let sorrow cease, - ,90
Cupid and my Campaspe play'd, - - - - 32
Dainty, fine, sweet nymph, delightful, 38
Dare ye haunt our hallow'd green, 86
De'il tak the wars that hurried Billy from me, - - 179
Distracted with anguish, and weary in mind, - - - 182
Each man with silence stops his mouth, and hears, - 1 1C
Envious wretch ! on earth the most ingrate, - - - 1 17
Fair goddess ! loadstar of delight, - - - - 120
Farewell, false love, the oracle of lies, - - - 10
Flora gave me fairest flowers, - - - - - 16
Glaidstanes is gone! his corpis doth here dwell, - - 131
Go lovely rose, .. - - - 80