Songs of the Seasons :: :: University of Virginia Library

LINES TO MY WIFE.

I

In the heart of the year, ere June expires,
When the sun holds court in the Highlands high,
And is lavish most of its marvel fires,
We'll off to Oban, you and I.

II

In the noon of the year, when the rage hath died
Out of the great Atlantic roll,
And the spell is binding on wave and tide,
That draws to Oban heart and soul;

III

When Morven reveals its purpling heights,
And the banners of mist are all up-rolled;
When the legion hath fled of sullen sprites,
And the angel unravels his tissues of gold;

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IV

When over the rugged thrones of Mull,
Where antler and eagle tower supreme,
The glory rests with the sea-born lull,
Transcending Art or Poet's dream!

V

When over the maze of motley isles,
That ward our harbours from foe and storm,
The cloudland dissolves into wreaths of smiles,
And the rainbow stretches its tremulous form;

VI

In the season of flowers, when the Meadow Queen
Invites to her court the wandering bee,
And the fragrance exhaled on the heights terrene
Circles on zephyr wings down to the sea;

VII

When the blended breaths of the heath and thyme,
And balmy orchis are all astir;
When in fairy ears the blue-bells chime,
And the cone is greening on the fir;

VIII

When the leaf of the water-lily paves
The shallows of the dreaming mere,
And its white cup tossed on the mimic waves
Bringeth the lazy distance near;

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IX

After the early life of the brae,
The primrose joy and glory are past;
After the honey-moon of the May,
When its bridal attire the sloe hath cast;

X

After the merle hath ceased to sing,
Or sings by starts in the gates of the eve;
After “the wandering voices of Spring,”
Cuckoo and curlew, have taken leave;

XI

When the scowl is lifted from off the brows
Of old Duntroon and grim Dunolly;
And there is the whisper of lovers' vows
Below the hazels and the holly;

XII

When the spectres that howl round Gylen stern
In the winter nights are laid and at rest,
And the otter, gliding through cave and cairn,
In Kerrera fair, is its grimmest guest;

XIII

In the heart of the year, when the salmon seek
Their way to the rivers, and merry sea-trout
Give life by their frolics to bay and creek—
When the lusty porpoise is rolling about;

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XIV

When the lythe is at play round the Eilan Dhu,
And the dolorous gurnard shews on the calms,
And the hoe and stenlock dare and do
The havoc of wolves among the lambs;

XV

When the crops of the sea are ripe and rife—
Dainty and luring to palate and eye—
And its garners teem with the marvels of life,
We'll off to Oban, you and I.

XVI

In the noon of the year, when out of Clyde
The fleet of the West, in full array,
Braving alike the gale and tide,
Bounds with proclaim of holiday;

XVII

When the summer range of its going forth
Is meted out with a generous hand,
And, rolling up to the capes of the North,
Echoes of welcome fill the land!

XVIII

In the heart of the year, when the Chevalier
Lifts, like a falchion, his prow of scorn,
And, cleaving his way from bay to bay,
Sets free the storm-bound havens of Lorn;

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XIX

When the gusty bluffs, where, till summer came,
With hoof of fury the sea-horse pranced,
And reefs that bear an ominous name
Shew in the distance all entranced!

XX

In the noon of the year, when the great mirage
Knits sea and sky in a bond divine,
And whispers of coming pilgrimage
Have reached Iona's distant shrine;

XXI

When over the province of billows enslaved
Treads like a monarch the Mountaineer,
And the heads that all spring-time frothed and raved,
Are the surest beacons by which to steer;

XXII

In that rapt season, when, as by a charm,
Are dropt the weapons of clerical strife,
And Churchman and Sectary, arm-in-arm,
Draw to the cradle of Christian life;

XXIII

Where, in the centre of storms and dearth,
Were planted the Cross and fostered the creed,
Which, to the uttermost isles of the earth,
Salvation brought in an hour of need;

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XXIV

When raised is the siege of warring waves
Round Staffa, and the Siren's lute,
In the remote of its pillared caves,
With conch of Triton holds sweet dispute;

XXV

When the chisellings of that wondrous pile,
Tested by storm all winter through,
Shew freshest, and the wizard isle
Out of the waters hath risen anew;

XXVI

When the mason's eye, that is swift to detect
Blemish or blur in the mystical craft,
Confesses a faultless architect
In this blending of altar, cornice, and shaft;

XXVII

In the summer's heart, when the steamer's pant,
Like the pant of a whale when the chase is warm,
Climbing the Kyles, falls jubilant
On the ear of castle, cot, and farm!

XXVIII

Before the boisterous rush of the mass,
When only the skirmishers in advance
Face the hazards of mountain pass,
And under its curtains couch the lance;

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XXIX

Before the hurrying to and fro
To pier and station, from square and street,
Before the city's life ebbing low
Seaward tides with the Western Fleet;

XXX

Before our senators are at large,
And silence rules in the great Divan;
Before the rifle's cruel discharge
Rings through the corries of Cruachan;

XXXI

In the witching season when my ladye,
Who is winning and joyous beyond compare,
With loving speech entreateth me
Again to summer in Oban fair;

XXXII

And so to Oban, you and I,
Bird of my heart! shall wing our way,
When the sun, holding court in the Highlands high,
Of its glory is lavish in Oban Bay.