The Works of The Ettrick Shepherd Centenary Edition. With a Memoir of the Author, by the Rev. Thomas Thomson ... Poems and Life. With Many Illustrative Engravings [by James Hogg] |
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Cary O'Kean.
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 | The Works of The Ettrick Shepherd |  |
Cary O'Kean.
The streams of Kilalla were never so sheen,
Her mountains so fair, nor her valleys so green;
The birds of the woodland are blithe as before—
Why hear we the song of the maidens no more?
Her mountains so fair, nor her valleys so green;
The birds of the woodland are blithe as before—
Why hear we the song of the maidens no more?
There's something awanting that's nearer the heart,—
Oh, Nature is strong when unshackled by art!
The prospects of beauty on others rely,
Heart links unto heart, and eye kindles to eye;
And many a dawning shall blush o'er the scene,
Ere the maids of Kilalla be cheerful again.
Oh, Nature is strong when unshackled by art!
The prospects of beauty on others rely,
Heart links unto heart, and eye kindles to eye;
And many a dawning shall blush o'er the scene,
Ere the maids of Kilalla be cheerful again.
'Tis true that the streams of her mountains are sheen,
Her woodlands are fair and her meadows are green,
The sunbeam of morning is bright as of yore,
And the shades of the mountain as dark as before;
As mild is the evening, as pure is the dew,
Her breeze is as sweet, and her heaven is as blue;
But, ah! there is one who is missed in the ring,
Then how can the maidens be blithsome or sing?
The youth is away, for whose pleasure they sung,
The pride of the old, and the joy of the young;
Who made the fair bosom beat briskly and high,
Gave the tint to the cheek, and the dew to the eye:
He is gone! he is gone over channel and main,
And the tears run in torrents for Cary O'Kean.
Her woodlands are fair and her meadows are green,
The sunbeam of morning is bright as of yore,
And the shades of the mountain as dark as before;
As mild is the evening, as pure is the dew,
Her breeze is as sweet, and her heaven is as blue;
But, ah! there is one who is missed in the ring,
Then how can the maidens be blithsome or sing?
The youth is away, for whose pleasure they sung,
The pride of the old, and the joy of the young;
Who made the fair bosom beat briskly and high,
Gave the tint to the cheek, and the dew to the eye:
He is gone! he is gone over channel and main,
And the tears run in torrents for Cary O'Kean.
Young Cary had loved, for his heart it was kind,
He loved with a flame that was pure and refined;
Of honours or pelf he despised the name,
He loved from his heart, and expected the same:
But just as the day of the bridal came on,
The bride looked disdainful and bade him begone;
She wedded a squire who was sordid and vain,
But ten times as rich as young Cary O'Kean.
He loved with a flame that was pure and refined;
Of honours or pelf he despised the name,
He loved from his heart, and expected the same:
But just as the day of the bridal came on,
The bride looked disdainful and bade him begone;
She wedded a squire who was sordid and vain,
But ten times as rich as young Cary O'Kean.
Serene is the woe, and the sorrow sublime,
When a friend is removed from the precincts of time;
For hope, from the fetters of cumbersome clay,
On the wing of eternity journeys away,
And views the abodes of the happy and blest,
Where lovers and friends from their sorrows shall rest:
The gloom of the spirit soon grasps the alloy,
And sorrow expands to a twilight of joy.
When a friend is removed from the precincts of time;
For hope, from the fetters of cumbersome clay,
On the wing of eternity journeys away,
And views the abodes of the happy and blest,
Where lovers and friends from their sorrows shall rest:
The gloom of the spirit soon grasps the alloy,
And sorrow expands to a twilight of joy.
But, ah! there is something beyond all redress,
Which nature may feel, but can never express;
Too wide for the fancy, too high for the tongue,
When passion is ardent and reason is young;
A banquet of bliss, or a feeling of grief,
When bound there is none, and when death is relief.
The bourne of the spirit by misery beset,
I know it too well, and shall never forget
The days of enchantment, the joys that had birth,
Ere she whom I loved above all on this earth,
Deceived me—ah! woe that these hopes e'er had been!
O God, thou hast willed it!—I loved, and have seen
Another possessing her heart and her charms,
And the child of a fool in her delicate arms!
Down, down with reflection, it maddens my brain—
Oh, well may I feel for poor Cary O'Kean;
It seemed as if nature combined to destroy
A heart that was formed for its tenderest joy.
Which nature may feel, but can never express;
Too wide for the fancy, too high for the tongue,
When passion is ardent and reason is young;
A banquet of bliss, or a feeling of grief,
When bound there is none, and when death is relief.
354
I know it too well, and shall never forget
The days of enchantment, the joys that had birth,
Ere she whom I loved above all on this earth,
Deceived me—ah! woe that these hopes e'er had been!
O God, thou hast willed it!—I loved, and have seen
Another possessing her heart and her charms,
And the child of a fool in her delicate arms!
Down, down with reflection, it maddens my brain—
Oh, well may I feel for poor Cary O'Kean;
It seemed as if nature combined to destroy
A heart that was formed for its tenderest joy.
Away, and away he has sailed o'er the deep,
But oft turned his face to green Erin to weep:
“Adieu, once loved country, thy name be forgot,
For interest pervades thee, and feeling is not.
I'll circle the earth some sweet island to find,
Where primitive innocence models the mind;
Where nature blooms fair on the face of the free,
Where kindness conferred shall redouble to me.
There, there will I sojourn till memory is o'er,
And think of false Ella and Erin no more.”
But oft turned his face to green Erin to weep:
“Adieu, once loved country, thy name be forgot,
For interest pervades thee, and feeling is not.
I'll circle the earth some sweet island to find,
Where primitive innocence models the mind;
Where nature blooms fair on the face of the free,
Where kindness conferred shall redouble to me.
There, there will I sojourn till memory is o'er,
And think of false Ella and Erin no more.”
Away they have sailed over channel and main,
Till vanished behind them the stars of the Wain;
Unknown was the sky and the track of the wind,
For the sun he was north, and Orion behind;—
Over ocean's wide waste, by lone island and shore,
Which the eye of proud science ne'er measured before;—
Over waves never ploughed, wave their streamers unfurled,
For hope was their leader, their limits the world.
Till vanished behind them the stars of the Wain;
Unknown was the sky and the track of the wind,
For the sun he was north, and Orion behind;—
Over ocean's wide waste, by lone island and shore,
Which the eye of proud science ne'er measured before;—
Over waves never ploughed, wave their streamers unfurled,
For hope was their leader, their limits the world.
The bounds of humanity saw them withdraw,
And all but the triple-walled stone house they saw,
Where the world's own axletree thunders and rolls,
In grooves of blue icicle hung from the poles:
Unknown are its workings—unseen is the dome,
Unless by the whale from its window of foam.
And all but the triple-walled stone house they saw,
Where the world's own axletree thunders and rolls,
In grooves of blue icicle hung from the poles:
Unknown are its workings—unseen is the dome,
Unless by the whale from its window of foam.
But in all the wide world they found nothing so sweet
As the groves and the streamlets of famed Otaheite;
That paradise island, where joys never cease,
That lies like a gem midst an ocean of peace;
Where the verdure and flowers never fade on the lea,
And the fruit and the blossom are aye on the tree;
Where beauty blooms wild, which no land can outvie,
And guileless simplicity laughs in the eye.
As the groves and the streamlets of famed Otaheite;
That paradise island, where joys never cease,
That lies like a gem midst an ocean of peace;
Where the verdure and flowers never fade on the lea,
And the fruit and the blossom are aye on the tree;
Where beauty blooms wild, which no land can outvie,
And guileless simplicity laughs in the eye.
No sooner had Cary beheld the retreat,
And the beauty misguided that blossomed so sweet;
The forms so enchanting, the manners so kind,
The bloom of ripe maidhood, with infancy's mind;
The mountains o'er mountains that towered to the sky,
And the sweet sheltered vales in their bosoms that lie,
Than a life in that island he fondly devised—
The dreams of his fancy were all realized;
For he deemed, that with freedom and honour allied,
As freely he came, he was free to abide.
And the beauty misguided that blossomed so sweet;
The forms so enchanting, the manners so kind,
The bloom of ripe maidhood, with infancy's mind;
The mountains o'er mountains that towered to the sky,
And the sweet sheltered vales in their bosoms that lie,
Than a life in that island he fondly devised—
The dreams of his fancy were all realized;
For he deemed, that with freedom and honour allied,
As freely he came, he was free to abide.
He ranged through the woodlands, he heard the birds sing,
He ate of the fruit, and he drank of the spring;
The maids he saluted with courtesy kind,
For love was the passion that tempered his mind.
His choice was select, when his chance was to see
That pearl of the ocean, the young Oraee;
He loved her at first for her beauty and youth,
But her artless esteem and unblemished truth
So gained on his heart, and his feelings so moved,
Man never so felt, and man never so loved.
When on board she was borne all the wonders to view,
She looked but at Cary, to Cary she grew;
Her dark liquid eye, like the dew on the sloe,
Still followed her lover above and below;
And yet where his smile of sweet sympathy told,
That eye still abroad on the far ocean rolled;
Unconscious of ought that could evil imply,
She blushed and she faltered, yet never knew why.
No morning so early the land could he reach,
But there she was waiting with smiles on the beach;
Her slender arms spread, while the words she addressed
Well noted the welcome that glowed in her breast.
And when in the bower of the mountain he slept,
Still o'er him, unwearied, a guardship she kept;
Her arm was his pillow, and over him flew
Her dark tresses warding the sun and the dew:
Then oft when awakening he caught the sweet smile,
And the kiss lightly pressed on his temple the while;
And well of her bosom he felt the fond strife,
Like a pressure of down that had motion and life;
And then she would tell him, as o'er him she hung,
The words that the little birds said when they sung.
He ate of the fruit, and he drank of the spring;
The maids he saluted with courtesy kind,
For love was the passion that tempered his mind.
His choice was select, when his chance was to see
That pearl of the ocean, the young Oraee;
He loved her at first for her beauty and youth,
But her artless esteem and unblemished truth
So gained on his heart, and his feelings so moved,
Man never so felt, and man never so loved.
When on board she was borne all the wonders to view,
She looked but at Cary, to Cary she grew;
Her dark liquid eye, like the dew on the sloe,
Still followed her lover above and below;
And yet where his smile of sweet sympathy told,
That eye still abroad on the far ocean rolled;
Unconscious of ought that could evil imply,
She blushed and she faltered, yet never knew why.
No morning so early the land could he reach,
But there she was waiting with smiles on the beach;
Her slender arms spread, while the words she addressed
Well noted the welcome that glowed in her breast.
And when in the bower of the mountain he slept,
Still o'er him, unwearied, a guardship she kept;
Her arm was his pillow, and over him flew
Her dark tresses warding the sun and the dew:
Then oft when awakening he caught the sweet smile,
And the kiss lightly pressed on his temple the while;
And well of her bosom he felt the fond strife,
Like a pressure of down that had motion and life;
And then she would tell him, as o'er him she hung,
The words that the little birds said when they sung.
How poor the expression his love to convey,
To say that he loved her as life or as day!
All nature to him had but one only gem,
A treasure unvalued—one sole diadem.
Too high were his raptures for mortal to bear,
If they had not been mellowed by feeling of fear,
For his all was subjected to Nature's behest,
And too good and too dear to be ever possessed.
To say that he loved her as life or as day!
All nature to him had but one only gem,
A treasure unvalued—one sole diadem.
Too high were his raptures for mortal to bear,
If they had not been mellowed by feeling of fear,
For his all was subjected to Nature's behest,
And too good and too dear to be ever possessed.
He heard of their leaving those isles of the main—
He heard of their sailing to Britain again
Without all emotion, save gladness of heart,
For fixed was his mind that they never should part.
But what was his pain when his captain he told,
A smile of contempt in his eye to behold!
He turned from him scornful, and laughing amain,
“Such things may not be—you must think once again.”
He heard of their sailing to Britain again
Without all emotion, save gladness of heart,
For fixed was his mind that they never should part.
But what was his pain when his captain he told,
A smile of contempt in his eye to behold!
He turned from him scornful, and laughing amain,
“Such things may not be—you must think once again.”
Forthwith he foresaw that a terrible blow
Awaited his peace, which he could not forego;
A blow with more exquisite torments combined,
Than the change of his being from matter to mind:
So he fled with his love to a lonely retreat—
A cave in the mountains of green Otaheite,
Where deep they lay moored from the beams of the sun,
Their only resource what they dreaded to shun.
Awaited his peace, which he could not forego;
A blow with more exquisite torments combined,
Than the change of his being from matter to mind:
So he fled with his love to a lonely retreat—
A cave in the mountains of green Otaheite,
355
Their only resource what they dreaded to shun.
There, oft as they felt the sweet breath of the day,
The trembling deserter to heaven would pray,
While poor Oraee, sadly sighing, withdrew,
And sung a wild hymn to the great Eatoo.
They started at step of the prowling racoon,
And gathered their fruits by the light of the moon.
The trembling deserter to heaven would pray,
While poor Oraee, sadly sighing, withdrew,
And sung a wild hymn to the great Eatoo.
They started at step of the prowling racoon,
And gathered their fruits by the light of the moon.
The search is extended to cavern, and tree,—
The prince is a captive, and found they must be.
Full hard was their fate, for beset was each way,
And poor Oraee was ill able to stray,
For, ah! an unmentioned season drew near;
A time of alarm, and anxiety drear!
Yet nightly she travelled, and plaining forbore,
From island to island, from mountain to shore,
Till in a lone forest, of mother forlorn,
Was the beautiful babe of the fugitives born.
The prince is a captive, and found they must be.
Full hard was their fate, for beset was each way,
And poor Oraee was ill able to stray,
For, ah! an unmentioned season drew near;
A time of alarm, and anxiety drear!
Yet nightly she travelled, and plaining forbore,
From island to island, from mountain to shore,
Till in a lone forest, of mother forlorn,
Was the beautiful babe of the fugitives born.
Round came their pursuers, intent on their prey,
As helpless at eve in the woodland they lay;
There were they surrounded—there Cary was ta'en,
As tending his darling, and soothing her pain.
All pale was she seated beneath the wild tree,
With a fair son of Erin asleep on her knee;
With loud shout of triumph they rushed on their prey,
They seized on O'Kean, and they bore him away,
Regardless of delicate mother and child,
Her faint cries of sorrow, and ravings so wild.
They scarce looked around, though she sunk on the sward,
For great was the capture, and high the reward.
Oh, sad was that parting, and woeful the scene,
And frantic the anguish of Cary O'Kean!
As helpless at eve in the woodland they lay;
There were they surrounded—there Cary was ta'en,
As tending his darling, and soothing her pain.
All pale was she seated beneath the wild tree,
With a fair son of Erin asleep on her knee;
With loud shout of triumph they rushed on their prey,
They seized on O'Kean, and they bore him away,
Regardless of delicate mother and child,
Her faint cries of sorrow, and ravings so wild.
They scarce looked around, though she sunk on the sward,
For great was the capture, and high the reward.
Oh, sad was that parting, and woeful the scene,
And frantic the anguish of Cary O'Kean!
On board he is carried, and pinioned fast—
The orders for sailing are issued at last;
And the crew with a sigh, the last evening greet
That e'er they should see on the loved Otaheite.
The orders for sailing are issued at last;
And the crew with a sigh, the last evening greet
That e'er they should see on the loved Otaheite.
That night passed away with loud bustle and wail,
And song of the sailor as heaving the sail;
The sound on the ears of the islanders fell
Like the aerial night-concert that shepherds know well,
When phalanx of swans, at December's behest,
Are journeying to winter on shores of the west;
With hoopings untuneful they wing the dark sky,
And the peasant turns pale at the storm that is nigh.
And song of the sailor as heaving the sail;
The sound on the ears of the islanders fell
Like the aerial night-concert that shepherds know well,
When phalanx of swans, at December's behest,
Are journeying to winter on shores of the west;
With hoopings untuneful they wing the dark sky,
And the peasant turns pale at the storm that is nigh.
When dawning arose from the breast of the main,
With earnestness pleaded the wretched O'Kean,
That, bound to the mast, he might stand on the hoy,
One last, longing sight of the land to enjoy.
With earnestness pleaded the wretched O'Kean,
That, bound to the mast, he might stand on the hoy,
One last, longing sight of the land to enjoy.
Scarce there was he placed when he saw from the bay
A sightly canoe coming sailing away,
And placed on the prow a loved figure he knew,
Arrayed in the mantle of scarlet and blue,
Which erst had her form of virginity drest,
When first with her hand and her love he was blest.
A sightly canoe coming sailing away,
And placed on the prow a loved figure he knew,
Arrayed in the mantle of scarlet and blue,
Which erst had her form of virginity drest,
When first with her hand and her love he was blest.
Alert were the rowers and light the canoe;
She came like a meteor till under the prow,
When oh! the young mother looked pale and aghast,
When she saw her poor Cary bound up to the mast.
She flew to his bosom, and clasped him in pain,
But his pinioned arms could not clasp her again.
She came like a meteor till under the prow,
When oh! the young mother looked pale and aghast,
When she saw her poor Cary bound up to the mast.
She flew to his bosom, and clasped him in pain,
But his pinioned arms could not clasp her again.
Oh, never was pleading so warm from the heart!
They pleaded together—they pleaded apart:
With the child in her bosom poor Oraee kneeled,
Imploring the captain, whose bosom was steeled.
“Oh, grant me my husband! oh, leave him with me,
Or let me go with him across the wide sea!
But sever not two hearts so faithful and true,
Else dread the high vengeance of great Eatoo!
Your love and your home you shall never see more,
But your blood shall flow red on the tine of the shore.”
They pleaded together—they pleaded apart:
With the child in her bosom poor Oraee kneeled,
Imploring the captain, whose bosom was steeled.
“Oh, grant me my husband! oh, leave him with me,
Or let me go with him across the wide sea!
But sever not two hearts so faithful and true,
Else dread the high vengeance of great Eatoo!
Your love and your home you shall never see more,
But your blood shall flow red on the tine of the shore.”
Though then the tear rushed to the captain's proud eye,
Stern duty forbade, and he would not comply.
The moment is come that concluded her stay,
And the mother and infant are ordered away:
She clung to her husband, refusing to go,
And force must compel her to seek the canoe.
She begged for one moment a farewell to take,
For the love of their God and humanity's sake:
'Tis granted;—in tranquil and temperate mood
She went to her lover, who motionless stood;
Her face was serene with a paleness thereon,
Like the face of the sky, when the storm is o'erblown.
She kissed—she embraced him—and fondly took leave—
Held up her young son the last kiss to receive,
Then, swift as an arrow, she sprung in the main,
Dived under the keel, and arose not again!
Stern duty forbade, and he would not comply.
The moment is come that concluded her stay,
And the mother and infant are ordered away:
She clung to her husband, refusing to go,
And force must compel her to seek the canoe.
She begged for one moment a farewell to take,
For the love of their God and humanity's sake:
'Tis granted;—in tranquil and temperate mood
She went to her lover, who motionless stood;
Her face was serene with a paleness thereon,
Like the face of the sky, when the storm is o'erblown.
She kissed—she embraced him—and fondly took leave—
Held up her young son the last kiss to receive,
Then, swift as an arrow, she sprung in the main,
Dived under the keel, and arose not again!
With shrieks of distraction the air was appalled,
For madness the brain of the husband enthralled;
He struggled in fury from bonds to get free,
But strong were the cords, and enfeebled was he.
“O God!” cried the captain, with tears in his eyes,
“Oh, save her, though all I possess be the prize!”
Sheer into the deep plunged the throng of the crew,
But all was confusion, and nothing they knew;
They sought the deep channel, impatient for breath.
But diver met diver, and grappled beneath;
On board they returned with wonder and woe,
For the body appeared not above nor below.
For madness the brain of the husband enthralled;
He struggled in fury from bonds to get free,
But strong were the cords, and enfeebled was he.
“O God!” cried the captain, with tears in his eyes,
“Oh, save her, though all I possess be the prize!”
Sheer into the deep plunged the throng of the crew,
But all was confusion, and nothing they knew;
They sought the deep channel, impatient for breath.
But diver met diver, and grappled beneath;
On board they returned with wonder and woe,
For the body appeared not above nor below.
With a quivering lip, and an eye of red fire,
Convulsion of spirit, and utterance dire,
The injured O'Kean, to extremity driven,
In the name of the Son and the Virgin of Heaven,
Pronounced on his captain a woe that befell,
And a prayer which mercy forbids me to tell.
Oh, woe to the deed to those words that gave birth,
For the curse of the injured falls not to the earth!
Convulsion of spirit, and utterance dire,
The injured O'Kean, to extremity driven,
In the name of the Son and the Virgin of Heaven,
Pronounced on his captain a woe that befell,
And a prayer which mercy forbids me to tell.
Oh, woe to the deed to those words that gave birth,
For the curse of the injured falls not to the earth!
356
They spread out the white sails so broad and so high,
That they gathered the gales from the sea to the sky,
Their bosoms all turned to the eastward away,
Down bowing sublime to the God of the Day.
The harsh creaking sounds of the rigging are loud;
The sailors' own music is shrill on the shroud;
Slow heaves the wet breast of the ship as in pain—
She growls, and departs to her pathless domain.
That they gathered the gales from the sea to the sky,
Their bosoms all turned to the eastward away,
Down bowing sublime to the God of the Day.
The harsh creaking sounds of the rigging are loud;
The sailors' own music is shrill on the shroud;
Slow heaves the wet breast of the ship as in pain—
She growls, and departs to her pathless domain.
She rolled, she moved onward, then heeling forth ran;
And just in the wake, as the boiling began,
A sight was beheld that may scarcely be sung,
That chilled the gay spirit, and silenced the tongue:—
A slender pale corse was hove up on the tide,
One arm locked a beautiful babe to its side,
But the other was stretched on the breast of the ocean,
Spread forth like the hand of a maid in devotion;
And, long as they looked at her watery grave,
That spread hand was seen on the breast of the wave.
And just in the wake, as the boiling began,
A sight was beheld that may scarcely be sung,
That chilled the gay spirit, and silenced the tongue:—
A slender pale corse was hove up on the tide,
One arm locked a beautiful babe to its side,
But the other was stretched on the breast of the ocean,
Spread forth like the hand of a maid in devotion;
And, long as they looked at her watery grave,
That spread hand was seen on the breast of the wave.
The ship sought the limits of ocean again,
But reason returned not to Cary O'Kean;
A being he was that had motion and breath,
But affected by nothing of life or of death.
By day he was silent, by night he reclined
On the deck, and conversed with the waves and the wind,
Till, far in a desert on Asia's coast,
This man of misfortune and sorrow was lost;
They left him unwept through the desert to hie,
Among a wild people to sojourn and die.
Oh, long of the miseries that sufferer befell
The dames of Kilalla to lovers shall tell;
And grieve for their country, the ward of the sea,
Where all but its gallant defenders are free.
But reason returned not to Cary O'Kean;
A being he was that had motion and breath,
But affected by nothing of life or of death.
By day he was silent, by night he reclined
On the deck, and conversed with the waves and the wind,
Till, far in a desert on Asia's coast,
This man of misfortune and sorrow was lost;
They left him unwept through the desert to hie,
Among a wild people to sojourn and die.
Oh, long of the miseries that sufferer befell
The dames of Kilalla to lovers shall tell;
And grieve for their country, the ward of the sea,
Where all but its gallant defenders are free.
But there is a feeling ingrafted on mind,
A shoot of eternity never defined,
That upward still climbs to its origin high;
Its roots are in nature, it blooms in the sky.
From that may the spirit immortal enthroned,
The pangs of this life and its sorrows beyond,
Look onward afar and exult in the view;
And the still voice that whispers, “Immortal art thou:”
On that be thy anchor when sorrows assail,
Else vain are thy sufferings, and vain is my tale.
A shoot of eternity never defined,
That upward still climbs to its origin high;
Its roots are in nature, it blooms in the sky.
From that may the spirit immortal enthroned,
The pangs of this life and its sorrows beyond,
Look onward afar and exult in the view;
And the still voice that whispers, “Immortal art thou:”
On that be thy anchor when sorrows assail,
Else vain are thy sufferings, and vain is my tale.
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