The Poetical Works of Hector MacNeill :: :: University of Virginia Library

Now, good Cesario, but that piece of song,
That old and antique song we heard last night:
Methought it did relieve my passion much;
More than light airs, and recollected terms
Of these more brisk and giddy-paced times.—
Shakespeare.

O welcome, simply soothing treasure!
In midst o'pain my lanely pleasure!
Tutored by thee, and whispering leisure,
I quit the thrang,
And, wrapt in blessed retirement, measure
Thy varied sang!

148

Kind, leil companion! without thee,
Ah, welladay! what should I be !
Whan jeered by fools wha canna see
My inward pain,
Aneath thy sheltering wing I flee,
And mak my mane.

There seated, smiling by my side,
For hours thegither wilt thou bide,
Chanting auld tales o'martial pride,
And luve's sweet smart!
Till glowing warm thy numbers glide
Streight to the heart.

149

'Tis then, wi' powerfu' plastic hand
Thou wavest thy magic-working wand;
And stirring up ideas grand
That fire the brain,
Aff whirlst me swift to fairy land
'Mang Fancy's train.—

Scar'd by disease whan balmy rest
Flees trembling frae her downy nest;
Starting frae horror's dreams opprest,
I see thee come
Wi' radiance mild that cheers the breast,
And lights the gloom!

150

Heart'ning thou com'st, wi' modest grace,
Hope, luve, and pity, in thy face,
And gliding up wi' silent pace
My plaints to hear,
Whisper'st in turn thae soothing lays
Saft in my ear.

‘Ill-fated wand'rer! doomed to mane!
Wan suff'rer bleached wi' care and pain!
How changed, alas! since vogie vain,
Wi' spirits light,
Ye hailed me first in untaught strain
On Strevlin's height!

151

‘—Ah me! how stark! how blithe! how bauld
Ye brattled then through wind and cauld!
Reckless, by stream, by firth and fauld
Ye held your way;
By passion ruled; by love enthralled,
Ye poured the lay.

‘'Twas then, entranced in am'rous sang,
I marked you midst the rural thrang;
Ardent and keen, the hail day lang
Wi' Nature ta'en,
Slip frae the crowd, and mix amang
Her simple train.

152

‘'Twas then I saw (alas! owre clear!)
Your future thriftless, lost career!
And while some blamed, wi' boding fear,
The tunefu' art,
Your moral pride and truth sincere
Aye wan my heart.

‘He ne'er can lout, I musing said,
To ply the fleeching, fawning trade;
Nor bend the knee, nor bow the head
To walth or power!
But backward turn, wi' scornfu' speed,
Frae flatt'ry's door.

153

‘He'll never learn his bark to steer
'Mid passion's sudden, wild career;
Nor try at times to tack or veer
To int'rest's gale,
But hoist the sheet, unawed by fear,
Tho' storms prevail.

‘Owre proud to ask;—owre bauld to yield!
Whar will he find a shelt'ring beild?
Whan poortith's blast drifts cross the field
Wi' wintry cauld,
Whar will he wone—poor feckless chield!
Whan frail and auld!

154

‘Year after year, in youtheid's prime,
Wander he will frae clime to clime,
Sanguine wi' hope on wing sublime
Mount heigh in air!
But than—waes me! there comes a time
O'dool and care!

‘There comes a time!—or soon, or late,
O'serious thought and sad debate;
Whan blighted hope and adverse fate
Owrespread their gloom,
And mirk despair, in waefu' state,
Foresees the doom!

155

‘—And maun he fa'! (I sighing cried)
Wi' guardian honour by his side!
Shall fortune frown on guiltless pride,
And straits owrtake him!
—Weel! blame wha like—whate'er betide
I'se ne'er forsake him!

‘Ardent I spake! and frae the day
Ye hailed me smiling; youthfu' gay
On Aichil's whin-flowered fragrant brae
I strave to cheer ye!
Frae morn's first dawn to e'en's last ray
I ay was near ye.

156

‘Frae west to east —frae isle to isle,
To India's shore and sultry soil;
'Mid tumult, battle, care, and toil,
I following flew;
Ay smoothed the past, and wak'd the smile
To prospects new.

‘Whan warfare ceased its wild uproar,
To Elephanta's far-famed shore
I led ye, ardent to explore,
Wi' panting heart,
Her idol monuments o'yore,
And sculptured art.

157

‘Sweet flew the hours! (the toil your boast)
On smiling Salsett's cave-wrought coast:—
Though hope was tint—tho' a'was crossed ,
Nae dread alarms
Ye felt—fond fool!—in wonder lost
And nature's charms!

‘Frae east to west, frae main to main,
To Carib's shores returned again;
In sickness, trial, hardship, pain,
Ye ken yoursell,
Drapt frae the muse's melting strain
Peace balmy fell.

158

‘Fell sweet! for, as she warbling flew,
Hope lent her heaven-refreshing dew;
Fair virtue close, and closer drew
To join the lay;
While conscience bright, and brighter grew,
And cheered the way!—

‘Whether to east or westward borne,
(Or flushed wi' joy, or wae-forlorn)
Ye hailed the fragrant breath o'morn
Frae orange flower,
Or cassia bud, or logwood thorn,
Or Guava bower:

159

‘Or frae the mist-cap'd mountain blue
Inhaled the spicy gales that flew,
Rich frae Pimento's groves that grew
In deep'ning green,
Crowned wi' their flowers o'milk-white hue
In dazzling sheen!

‘Whether at midnoon panting laid,
Ye woo'd coy zephyr's transient aid
Under the Banyan's pillared shade,
On plain or hill,
Or plantain green, that rustling played
Across the rill:

160

‘Or 'neath the tam'rind's shelt'ring gloom,
Drank coolness wafted in perfume,
Fresh frae the shaddack's golden bloom,
As flutt'ring gay
Hummed saft the bird o'peerless plume,
Frae spray to spray!

‘—Whether at eve, wi' raptured breast,
The shelving palm-girt beach ye prest,
And ee'd, entranced, the purpling west
Bepictured o'er,
As ocean murm'ring gently kissed
The whitening shore:

161

‘Whether at twilight's parting day
Ye held your solemn musing way,
Whar through the gloom in myriad ray
The fire-flies gleam;
And 'thwart the grove, in harmless play,
The light'nings stream!

‘Or, by the moon's bright radiance led,
Roamed late the Guinea-verdured glade ,
Where towered the giant Ceiba's shade;
And, loftier still,
The Cabbage rears its regal head
Owre palm-crowned hill.

162

‘Still following close, still whisp'ring near,
The muse aye caught your list'ning ear;
'Mid tempest's rage and thunder's rair
Aye cheering sang:—
Touched by her hand (unchilled by fear)
The Harp-strings rang .

‘Returned at last frae varied clime,
Whar youth and hope lang tint their time,
Ance mair to the Strevlin's height sublime
We winged our way;
Ance mair attuned the rural rhime
On Aichil brae.

163

‘'Twas then my native strains ye leared ,
For passion spake while fancy cheered;
A while wi' flaunting airs ye flared
And thought to shine;
But Nature—judging nature sneered,
And ca'd it—fine!

‘Stung wi' the taunt, ye back recoiled,
Pensive ye mused; I marked, and smiled;
Daund'ring depressed 'mang knows flowered wild,
My aten reed
Ye faund ae bonny morning mild
'Tween Ayr and Tweed.

164

'Tween past'ral Tweed and wand'ring Ayr,
Whar unbusked nature blooms sae fair!
And mony a wild note saft and clear
Sings sweet by turns,
Tuned by my winsome Allan's ear
And fav'rite Burns.

'Trembling wi' joy ye touched the reed,—
Doubtfu' ye sighed, and hang your head;
Fearfu' ye sang till some agreed
The notes war true;
Whan grown mair bauld, ye gae a screed
That pleased nae few .

165

‘By Forth's green links bedecked wi' flowers ,
By Clyde's clear stream and beechen bowers ;
Heartsome and healthfu' flew the hours
In simple sang,
While Lossit's braes and Eden's towers
The notes prolang!

‘—Thae times are gane!—ah! welladay!
For health has flown wi' spirits gay;
Youth, too, has fled! and cauld decay
Comes creeping on:
October's sun cheers na like May
That brightly shone!

166

‘Yet autumn's gloom, though threat'ning bleak,
Has joys, gin folk calm joys wad seek;
Friendship and Worth then social cleek
And twine thegither,
And gree and crack by ingle cheek
Just like twin-brither.

‘'Tis then (youth's vain vagaries past,
That please a while, but fash at last)
Serious, our ee we backward cast
On bygane frays,
And, marvelling, mourn the thriftless waste
O'former days!

167

‘Then, too, wi' prudence on our side,
And moral reas'ning for our guide,
Calmly we view the restless tide
O'warldly care,
And cull, wi' academic pride,
The flow'rs o' lare.

‘And while, wi' sure and steady pace,
Coy science' secret paths we trace,
And catch fair Nature's beauteous face
In varied view,
Ardent, though auld, we join the chace,
And pleased pursue.—

168

‘'Tis sae through life's short circling year,
The seasons change, and, changing, cheer;
Journeying we jog, unawed by fear:
Hope plays her part!
Forward we look, though in the rear
Death shakes the dart.

‘Catch then the dream! nor count it vain;
Hope's dream's the sweetest balm o'pain:
Heaven's unseen joys may yet remain,
And yet draw near ye:
Meanwhile, ye see, I hear your mane,
And flee to cheer ye.

169

Ane too's at hand, to wham ye fled
Frae Britain's cauld, frae misery's bed;
Owre seas tempestuous shivering sped
To Friendship's flame;
Whar kindling warm, in sun-beams clad,
She hails her Graham .

Wi' him (let health but favouring smile)
Ance mair ye'll greet fair Albion's isle!
In some calm nook life's cares beguile
Atween us twa:
Feed the faint lamp wi' friendship's oil—
Then—slip awa!

170

The flatterer ceased, and smiled adieu,
Just waved her hand, and mild withdrew!
Cheered wi' the picture (fause or true)
I checked despair,
And frae that moment made a vow
To—mourn nae mair.

Yet griefs will come and wring the heart!
The sigh will burst;—the tear will start;
Friendship-woven ties will snap and part,
Nae mair to twine!
And death, relentless, flings the dart,
And severs mine!

171

Year after year hope's phantoms fly;
Year after year life's pleasures die;
To-day we smile; to-morrow sigh;—
In vain we moan!
Yet still I mourn, and, moaning, cry,
“My Currie's gone!”

He's gone!—but yet, tho' lost, the blaze
That waked sae late admiring praise,
Its parting beam's reflected rays
In colours rise,
Bright as warm summer's sun displays
In evening' skies!

172

And these will last, and saft diffuse
Their charms to sooth the Scottish Muse;
And while she sheds affection's dews
At Friendship's shrine,
A heaven-shot gleam in bright'ning hues
Through clouds will shine.

The author's complaints were such, that, unable either to read or to write above a few minutes without distress, his only amusement was to compose by the help of memory alone. It may, perhaps, be worth mentioning, that Will and Jean, the Waes o'War, the Links o'Forth, and the present poem, were all composed by memory, previously to the commitment of a single line to paper.

West and East Indies.

See the author's account of the caves of Elephanta, Canary, and Ambola, published in the eighth volume of the Archæologia.

An unexpected change in administration at home, blasted all the author's fair prospects in India.

------Seems another morn
Risen on midnoon.------

Milton.

Guinea grass pasture. See Edwards' Hist. 8vo, vol. I. p. 186.

The palmeto royal, or mountain cabbage, from 150 to 200 feet in height; a tree, says Mr Edwards, which, without doubt, is among the most graceful of all the vegetable creation.

The second part of ‘The Harp’ was composed during the author's first passage home from Jamaica.

The author's first attempts in Scottish poetry were the composing of words to some of our most simple pastoral and Gaelic airs.

Allan Ramsay.

Alluding to the uncommon sale of ‘Will and Jean,’ which, in less than seven weeks after publication, went through five editions of 1500 copies each. Fourteen editions were thrown off before the expiration of a twelvemonth.

Stirling.

Glasgow.

Lossit, in Cantyre, Argyleshire, where some of the songs, from their resemblance to the Gaelic, were particularly relished. They were afterwards set to music, and published in Edinburgh.

John Graham, Esq. of Three-mile-river, Jamaica; under whose kind and hospitable roof the present poem was composed.

These additional verses were written immediately after the death of the memorable person here mentioned.