The Poetical Works of Walter C. Smith ... Revised by the Author: Coll. ed. |
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 | BALLADS FROM SCOTTISH HISTORY |
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 | The Poetical Works of Walter C. Smith |  |
561
BALLADS FROM SCOTTISH HISTORY
INTRODUCTORY
What have our men of old times
To say for themselves,
Now their loves, hates, quarrels, and crimes
Have been laid on the shelves,
And buried in cobwebs and dust,
Or eaten by mildew and rust?
To say for themselves,
Now their loves, hates, quarrels, and crimes
Have been laid on the shelves,
And buried in cobwebs and dust,
Or eaten by mildew and rust?
Strong men; their passions were strong;
And so was their faith,
Strong to stand up against wrong,
And resist to the death:
But fell were some of their deeds
In the warfare of clans and of creeds.
And so was their faith,
Strong to stand up against wrong,
And resist to the death:
But fell were some of their deeds
In the warfare of clans and of creeds.
Oh, theirs was the wrestle for good
In the quick womb of Time,
Which they only in part understood,
But with courage sublime
They struggled on towards the light
With their hearts still set on the right.
In the quick womb of Time,
Which they only in part understood,
But with courage sublime
They struggled on towards the light
With their hearts still set on the right.
Maybe; yet our Jacob was not
Without mean crafty ways;
And our Esau had glimpses of thought
Not unworthy of praise;
Not saints all who chose the right path,
Nor the others all children of wrath.
Without mean crafty ways;
And our Esau had glimpses of thought
Not unworthy of praise;
Not saints all who chose the right path,
Nor the others all children of wrath.
We shall err from the truth if we keep
Just to old Party lines,
And stir up old hatreds that sleep
In the books of Divines,
And rulings of Lawyers, and tales
That haunt the dim hills and the dales.
Just to old Party lines,
And stir up old hatreds that sleep
In the books of Divines,
And rulings of Lawyers, and tales
That haunt the dim hills and the dales.
And there is not a quarrel so bad
But that we may see
Some point in it we should be glad
Had it got mastery—
Some right amid wrong, to explain
How true hearts by it might remain.
But that we may see
Some point in it we should be glad
Had it got mastery—
Some right amid wrong, to explain
How true hearts by it might remain.
For I think scarce a man can be hot
With a fervent goodwill,
And cast in his life and his lot
With a cause wholly ill;
It must have some savour of good
To rouse the self-sacrifice mood.
With a fervent goodwill,
And cast in his life and his lot
With a cause wholly ill;
It must have some savour of good
To rouse the self-sacrifice mood.
Ah, well; there were schemers of course,
Heeding not wrong nor right,
And captains of foot and of horse
Loving only the fight,
And waiters-on watching the tide
To find out the safe, winning side.
Heeding not wrong nor right,
And captains of foot and of horse
Loving only the fight,
And waiters-on watching the tide
To find out the safe, winning side.
Camp-followers these in the war,
Eager only for gain,
Like the vultures that come from afar
To feast on the slain—
Or gamblers who played their big game,
And were cast forth at length in their shame.
Eager only for gain,
Like the vultures that come from afar
To feast on the slain—
Or gamblers who played their big game,
And were cast forth at length in their shame.
But the great groaning multitude, dumb,
Had at least a true thought,
And looked for God's kingdom to come,
And brighten the lot
Of the needy and poor and oppressed,
And crown their long struggle with rest.
Had at least a true thought,
And looked for God's kingdom to come,
And brighten the lot
Of the needy and poor and oppressed,
And crown their long struggle with rest.
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And so, through the ages, the throng
Of mixed good and ill
Confusedly wrestled along,
To work out His will,
Who aims not to finish the strife,
But to open new doors into life.
Of mixed good and ill
Confusedly wrestled along,
To work out His will,
Who aims not to finish the strife,
But to open new doors into life.
“IT CAME WITH A LASS, AND WILL GANG WITH A LASS”
Fy! fy! Oliver fled!
Yet he had ten thousand men!
All captured now, wounded, or dead,
And the foe had not one for his ten!
They were gathered from hill and from glen
To the muster on Solway shore,
And there's grief now on many a Ben,
But the shame of it touches me more.
Yet he had ten thousand men!
All captured now, wounded, or dead,
And the foe had not one for his ten!
They were gathered from hill and from glen
To the muster on Solway shore,
And there's grief now on many a Ben,
But the shame of it touches me more.
My heart within me is bowed
By the news of this sorrowful day;
Let the women make ready my shroud,
It is time I were hasting away.
I have often been merry and gay
With a lass and a glass and a stave,
For I cared but for pleasure and play,
And now they have dug me a grave.
By the news of this sorrowful day;
Let the women make ready my shroud,
It is time I were hasting away.
I have often been merry and gay
With a lass and a glass and a stave,
For I cared but for pleasure and play,
And now they have dug me a grave.
That dower of Marjorie Bruce—
A crown with no head it would fit—
On our brows it has ever sat loose,
And brought only trouble with it.
Yet we lacked not courage or wit,
And we loved the old land and its fame,
But we heeded not snaffle or bit,
When a woman would rule in the game.
A crown with no head it would fit—
On our brows it has ever sat loose,
And brought only trouble with it.
Yet we lacked not courage or wit,
And we loved the old land and its fame,
But we heeded not snaffle or bit,
When a woman would rule in the game.
The gossips now tell me I've got
A fine lass-bairn to embrace;
Heaven help her! a sorrowful lot
She will have, I fear me, to face.
For let her have beauty and grace,
And a mind that is noble and great,
She comes of a tragical race,
And she will have a tragical fate.
A fine lass-bairn to embrace;
Heaven help her! a sorrowful lot
She will have, I fear me, to face.
For let her have beauty and grace,
And a mind that is noble and great,
She comes of a tragical race,
And she will have a tragical fate.
For my Barons are selfish and proud,
Taken up with old family feuds;
And the Prelates are clamouring loud
For the heretics' lives and their goods;
And the monks glare out of their hoods
At the progress of freedom and light;
And the peasantry sullenly broods
On their wrongs, and to have them set right.
Taken up with old family feuds;
And the Prelates are clamouring loud
For the heretics' lives and their goods;
And the monks glare out of their hoods
At the progress of freedom and light;
And the peasantry sullenly broods
On their wrongs, and to have them set right.
The end of the old world is near,
And alas! in the shock of the change,
How much will go down that is dear!
How much there will be to avenge!
Ah, God's work is fearful and strange;
Crown and sceptre and temple and tower,
And all that man's wit may arrange
Goes down when He stirs in His power.
And alas! in the shock of the change,
How much will go down that is dear!
How much there will be to avenge!
Ah, God's work is fearful and strange;
Crown and sceptre and temple and tower,
And all that man's wit may arrange
Goes down when He stirs in His power.
But get ready the christening feast,
Let the gossips bring candle and cup,
And the child have a good time at least,
Ere the depths in their terror break up.
I will put on the crown when I sup,
Though I wear it in shame and in pain,
It came with a lass on the crup,
With a lass it will leave us again.
Let the gossips bring candle and cup,
And the child have a good time at least,
Ere the depths in their terror break up.
I will put on the crown when I sup,
Though I wear it in shame and in pain,
It came with a lass on the crup,
With a lass it will leave us again.
And send for the man on the Dryfe,
That Oliver also may feast.
Why not? since he still has his life,
'Tis but honour and valour have ceased,
And he'll readily find him a priest
Who will heal for a groat his smart,
As 'tis only the poor he has fleeced,
And broken his old king's heart.
That Oliver also may feast.
Why not? since he still has his life,
'Tis but honour and valour have ceased,
And he'll readily find him a priest
Who will heal for a groat his smart,
As 'tis only the poor he has fleeced,
And broken his old king's heart.
It is not the slow touch of Time
That has sprinkled my hair so with grey,
For I'm all but a man in my prime,
But the spring of my life is away.
I have come to the end of my day,
And seen its last lights where they fall
On the clouds, and have only to pray,
As I turn a grey face to the wall.
That has sprinkled my hair so with grey,
For I'm all but a man in my prime,
But the spring of my life is away.
I have come to the end of my day,
And seen its last lights where they fall
On the clouds, and have only to pray,
As I turn a grey face to the wall.
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GEORGE WISHART
They lured him away from my side,
The man likest Christ I have known:
I felt in my heart that they lied,
And vowed he should not go alone.
But he waved me aside, saying, “One
Is enough for a sacrifice;
Your work here is only begun,
Wait you till God's time for the price.”
The man likest Christ I have known:
I felt in my heart that they lied,
And vowed he should not go alone.
But he waved me aside, saying, “One
Is enough for a sacrifice;
Your work here is only begun,
Wait you till God's time for the price.”
Oh, lightly the Cardinal laughed,
Having snared his meek victim at length,
And gaily the French wines were quaffed
That night in his castle of strength;
And he sent forth a message straight-way
To his brother High-priest in the West,
To share in devouring the prey,
Which would give to their Babylon rest.
Having snared his meek victim at length,
And gaily the French wines were quaffed
That night in his castle of strength;
And he sent forth a message straight-way
To his brother High-priest in the West,
To share in devouring the prey,
Which would give to their Babylon rest.
The Glasgow Archbishop was vain,
And the Cardinal haughty and proud;
They had quarrelled, too, once and again,
Whose cross should go first through the crowd,
And had fought at the altar for place
With surplices tattered and torn,
And crowns had been cracked, by the mace,
Of clerics all shaven and shorn.
And the Cardinal haughty and proud;
They had quarrelled, too, once and again,
Whose cross should go first through the crowd,
And had fought at the altar for place
With surplices tattered and torn,
And crowns had been cracked, by the mace,
Of clerics all shaven and shorn.
But Pilate and Herod agreed
When they plotted to crucify Christ,
And these, too, were one in their deed,
When Wishart was sacrificed.
Together, with feigning and lies,
The saint to the faggots they doomed,
Together they feasted their eyes
On the flames which the martyr consumed.
When they plotted to crucify Christ,
And these, too, were one in their deed,
When Wishart was sacrificed.
Together, with feigning and lies,
The saint to the faggots they doomed,
Together they feasted their eyes
On the flames which the martyr consumed.
And so my loved Master and Friend—
Meek and brave he, as ever was known—
They brought to a sorrowful end,
Yet he died like a king on his throne.
And I rede you, Lord Cardinal, soon
The day of God's vengeance shall come,
When the pride that soared high as the moon
Shall lie in the dust, and be dumb.
Meek and brave he, as ever was known—
They brought to a sorrowful end,
Yet he died like a king on his throne.
And I rede you, Lord Cardinal, soon
The day of God's vengeance shall come,
When the pride that soared high as the moon
Shall lie in the dust, and be dumb.
I know not the day nor the hour,
Nor yet by whose hand 'twill be wrought,
But I know that God reigneth in power,
And that right shall be done, as it ought.
I have faith though His judgments be strange,
And at times darkly hid from our sight,
That at length, His own saints to avenge,
They will break forth as clear as the light.
Nor yet by whose hand 'twill be wrought,
But I know that God reigneth in power,
And that right shall be done, as it ought.
I have faith though His judgments be strange,
And at times darkly hid from our sight,
That at length, His own saints to avenge,
They will break forth as clear as the light.
For the spirit that now is abroad
'Mong the nations of Europe is here,
And will cast off the horrible load
Of priestly oppression and fear:
Our land too has come to the birth
And the pains of her travail begin,
But I trow she has strength to bring forth
The life that is stirring within.
'Mong the nations of Europe is here,
And will cast off the horrible load
Of priestly oppression and fear:
Our land too has come to the birth
And the pains of her travail begin,
But I trow she has strength to bring forth
The life that is stirring within.
We have only a young lass to rule
Our rude and turbulent folk,
Who was trained in a pestilent school,
And comes of a light-minded stock.
She knows not the land of her sires,
And she loves the gay doings of France—
Its trinkets and changeful attires,
And the viol, the pipe, and the dance.
Our rude and turbulent folk,
Who was trained in a pestilent school,
And comes of a light-minded stock.
She knows not the land of her sires,
And she loves the gay doings of France—
Its trinkets and changeful attires,
And the viol, the pipe, and the dance.
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Well, it's only like youth to be gay,
And her mirth we might haply forgive,
Though I fear me it is not the way
To prepare for the life she must live;
But they've poisoned her mind against truth,
To quench the faint spark of our hope,
And the mass-priests have thirled her youth
To the service of Rome and the Pope.
And her mirth we might haply forgive,
Though I fear me it is not the way
To prepare for the life she must live;
But they've poisoned her mind against truth,
To quench the faint spark of our hope,
And the mass-priests have thirled her youth
To the service of Rome and the Pope.
Small wonder God's people are filled
With fears and anxieties, then,
When they see all our rulers unskilled
In the wise arts of governing men,
All selfishly seeking their own,
Ambitious of power and of place,
And fain, for a bribe, to disown
The Word of the Lord and His grace;
With fears and anxieties, then,
When they see all our rulers unskilled
In the wise arts of governing men,
All selfishly seeking their own,
Ambitious of power and of place,
And fain, for a bribe, to disown
The Word of the Lord and His grace;
While the Baal-priests stand at the gate
Of the High Kirks, and group in the porch,
And mutter their malice and hate,
And threaten the faggot and torch;
And treason and murder and strife
Are hatched by the Cardinal still,
As he broods every day of his life
How to bend the whole land to his will.
Of the High Kirks, and group in the porch,
And mutter their malice and hate,
And threaten the faggot and torch;
And treason and murder and strife
Are hatched by the Cardinal still,
As he broods every day of his life
How to bend the whole land to his will.
Yet dark as the hour now may be,
And long as the night still may last,
By the Truth we shall yet be made free,
And the Truth spreadeth surely and fast.
God will not forsake us, or fail
When we pass through the fire and the flood;
Yea, He will be our buckler and mail
When the sword shall be thirsting for blood.
And long as the night still may last,
By the Truth we shall yet be made free,
And the Truth spreadeth surely and fast.
God will not forsake us, or fail
When we pass through the fire and the flood;
Yea, He will be our buckler and mail
When the sword shall be thirsting for blood.
There are evil times coming, I know,
Confusion and terror and wrath,
And the strong man shall then be laid low,
And the weak shall be turned from the path;
But beyond, I can see a great light,
And the land resting peaceful and calm
'Neath the rule of high wisdom and right,
With the Kirk praising God in a psalm.
Confusion and terror and wrath,
And the strong man shall then be laid low,
And the weak shall be turned from the path;
But beyond, I can see a great light,
And the land resting peaceful and calm
'Neath the rule of high wisdom and right,
With the Kirk praising God in a psalm.
I have faith in the Word and the Rock,
Our refuge in trouble and care;
For the one thing forbidden Christ's flock
Is to wring the weak hands of despair.
A Chief, in the battle's hot brunt,
May fall in the pride of his strength,
But another shall step to the front,
And march on to triumph at length.
Our refuge in trouble and care;
For the one thing forbidden Christ's flock
Is to wring the weak hands of despair.
A Chief, in the battle's hot brunt,
May fall in the pride of his strength,
But another shall step to the front,
And march on to triumph at length.
And a land, to be famous in story
For piety, letters, and truth,
Shall arise in her splendour and glory
Ever fresh in the dews of her youth;
For poverty she shall have wealth,
And honours in room of her shame,
Her plagues shall give place unto health,
And the world shall yet ring with her fame.
For piety, letters, and truth,
Shall arise in her splendour and glory
Ever fresh in the dews of her youth;
For poverty she shall have wealth,
And honours in room of her shame,
Her plagues shall give place unto health,
And the world shall yet ring with her fame.
THE RETURN OF THE QUEEN
Saw ye the Queen,
Our Queen without peer,
With the wind blowing keen,
And a fog creeping near,
As she came from the land
Of the sun and the vine
To our mist-shrouded strand,
Where the heather and pine
Blend their breath with the smell of the salt sea-brine?
Our Queen without peer,
With the wind blowing keen,
And a fog creeping near,
As she came from the land
Of the sun and the vine
To our mist-shrouded strand,
Where the heather and pine
Blend their breath with the smell of the salt sea-brine?
She passed me close by
As she stepped from the ship,
With a tear in her eye,
And a smile on her lip:—
The smile from a glance
At the crowd on the shore,
But the tear was for France
She might see never more,
And for friends of her youth, and the blithe days of yore.
As she stepped from the ship,
With a tear in her eye,
And a smile on her lip:—
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At the crowd on the shore,
But the tear was for France
She might see never more,
And for friends of her youth, and the blithe days of yore.
Her nobles stood round,
Each with sword by his side,
Every man of them bound
At her bidding to ride,
And they kissed her fair hand,
And they bent low the knee,
As gallant a band
As you'll any where see,
Grave old Lords of State, and youths courtly and free.
Each with sword by his side,
Every man of them bound
At her bidding to ride,
And they kissed her fair hand,
And they bent low the knee,
As gallant a band
As you'll any where see,
Grave old Lords of State, and youths courtly and free.
Lord and Lady had come,
Merchant, peasant, and clerk,
To welcome her home,
And her bearing to mark;
Some raised a great shout,
Some sang a glad song,
Some wandered about,
Shaking hands with the throng,
And wept as they prayed that her days might be long.
Merchant, peasant, and clerk,
To welcome her home,
And her bearing to mark;
Some raised a great shout,
Some sang a glad song,
Some wandered about,
Shaking hands with the throng,
And wept as they prayed that her days might be long.
She is fair as a rose
Full-blossomed in June,
And her step as she goes
Has the swing of a tune,
There's a glint in her eye
Hints of good-humoured mirth,
And she holds her head high
As befits her high birth,
Sole heir of a line that held long sway on earth.
Full-blossomed in June,
And her step as she goes
Has the swing of a tune,
There's a glint in her eye
Hints of good-humoured mirth,
And she holds her head high
As befits her high birth,
Sole heir of a line that held long sway on earth.
There is pride in her port,
Though so sprightly and young,
And the ready retort
Will not fail on her tongue,
She is learned and fit
To make laws for our crimes,
Yet may show more of wit
Than discretion at times,
But her heart it is sweet as the bloom on the limes.
Though so sprightly and young,
And the ready retort
Will not fail on her tongue,
She is learned and fit
To make laws for our crimes,
Yet may show more of wit
Than discretion at times,
But her heart it is sweet as the bloom on the limes.
She knows her own mind,
And will have her own way,
Which, if passion should blind,
May bring trouble some day;
And I thought I could trace
The dark shade of a cloud
Passing over her face,
When the ministers bowed,
And read out their well-pondered greetings aloud.
And will have her own way,
Which, if passion should blind,
May bring trouble some day;
And I thought I could trace
The dark shade of a cloud
Passing over her face,
When the ministers bowed,
And read out their well-pondered greetings aloud.
Every head was laid bare,
Every heart loudly beat,
Many kneeling down there,
Kissed the ground at her feet,
Had she trod on their ranks,
As she passed, there had been
But a murmur of thanks
For the honour, I ween,
And a God bless thee, Lady, God save the Queen.
Every heart loudly beat,
Many kneeling down there,
Kissed the ground at her feet,
Had she trod on their ranks,
As she passed, there had been
But a murmur of thanks
For the honour, I ween,
And a God bless thee, Lady, God save the Queen.
France's lilies are fine,
Scotland's thistle is rough,
Yet her crown it can line
With a down soft enough.
Truth is better than wit,
Love is better than gold,
And in these, as is fit,
We our Queen will enfold—
Ah! we wist not that day what the Future did hold!
Scotland's thistle is rough,
Yet her crown it can line
With a down soft enough.
Truth is better than wit,
Love is better than gold,
And in these, as is fit,
We our Queen will enfold—
Ah! we wist not that day what the Future did hold!
THE GORDONS AND CORRICHIE
The Queen has ridden North:
Lord James is at her side,
And Knight and Lord, with one accord,
Should with her banner ride;
Yet scant three hundred men
Have answered to her call
In fighting gear, with sword and spear,
Or arquebuse and ball.
Lord James is at her side,
And Knight and Lord, with one accord,
Should with her banner ride;
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Have answered to her call
In fighting gear, with sword and spear,
Or arquebuse and ball.
'Twas known that robber bands
Beyond the Grampians stood,
Who raided cattle, and did stark battle,
And shed the lieges' blood;
And if the truth be told
They laughed at Queen and Crown,
And had no awe for Kirk or Law,
Stronghold or Borough's town.
Beyond the Grampians stood,
Who raided cattle, and did stark battle,
And shed the lieges' blood;
And if the truth be told
They laughed at Queen and Crown,
And had no awe for Kirk or Law,
Stronghold or Borough's town.
There was not room in the North
For Huntly and also the Queen;
The Gordons gay had all the sway,
The Sheriff was never seen;
With shaveling Priests to sain
The clansmen when they fell,
They robbed and killed even as they willed,
And feared nor death nor hell.
For Huntly and also the Queen;
The Gordons gay had all the sway,
The Sheriff was never seen;
With shaveling Priests to sain
The clansmen when they fell,
They robbed and killed even as they willed,
And feared nor death nor hell.
She might not leave her folk
To be so sore oppressed,
Nor yet would she let Huntly be
Too utterly distressed;
Therefore she ordered so
That a small array came forth:
Not one in ten of her noblemen
Went with her to the North.
To be so sore oppressed,
Nor yet would she let Huntly be
Too utterly distressed;
Therefore she ordered so
That a small array came forth:
Not one in ten of her noblemen
Went with her to the North.
When Huntly heard the bruit
About the Queen's array,
He sent to call his kinsmen all
To Bog-an-gight straightway,
While they might meet secure,
And hunt a stag and dine,
And counsel hold with the wise and old,
And drink a flask of wine.
About the Queen's array,
He sent to call his kinsmen all
To Bog-an-gight straightway,
While they might meet secure,
And hunt a stag and dine,
And counsel hold with the wise and old,
And drink a flask of wine.
Then trooped to Bog-an-gight
The Gordons near and far,
From Dee and Spey they took their way,
From Buchan and Braemar.
Glentanar lads arose,
Strathbogie was not slow,
And Enzie's carles gave up their quarrels
And girt their swords to go.
The Gordons near and far,
From Dee and Spey they took their way,
From Buchan and Braemar.
Glentanar lads arose,
Strathbogie was not slow,
And Enzie's carles gave up their quarrels
And girt their swords to go.
Aboyne from a sick bed rose,—
He was aye of a ready mind,—
And Haddo sware no Gordon there
Should leave him far behind;
Ellon and Udny came,
And grim old Rothiemay,
And Gordon o' Gight, ere morning light,
Was up, and horsed and away.
He was aye of a ready mind,—
And Haddo sware no Gordon there
Should leave him far behind;
Ellon and Udny came,
And grim old Rothiemay,
And Gordon o' Gight, ere morning light,
Was up, and horsed and away.
Bonnie and broad their lands
By Livet and Ythan and Dee,
Where Deveron flows, and Lossie goes
Past Elgin to the sea;
The Bogie drove their mills,
The Gadie cooled their heat,
In Spean and Spey the Gordons gay
Did wash their horses' feet.
By Livet and Ythan and Dee,
Where Deveron flows, and Lossie goes
Past Elgin to the sea;
The Bogie drove their mills,
The Gadie cooled their heat,
In Spean and Spey the Gordons gay
Did wash their horses' feet.
And now from Peel and Grange,
From Clachan and Castle strong,
O'er moor and moss, past cairn and cross,
They merrily march along.
Loose in its scabbard each
His sword held ready to draw;
Their hearts were light, and their weapons bright,
And they laughed at Queen and Law.
From Clachan and Castle strong,
O'er moor and moss, past cairn and cross,
They merrily march along.
Loose in its scabbard each
His sword held ready to draw;
Their hearts were light, and their weapons bright,
And they laughed at Queen and Law.
The Earl was old and fat,
And therefore might not brook
Graith of steel on head or heel,
Or brazen clasp, or hook;
But wily and cunning plots
Came ready to his brain,
For more by wit than by weapons fit
His ends he strove to gain.
And therefore might not brook
Graith of steel on head or heel,
Or brazen clasp, or hook;
But wily and cunning plots
Came ready to his brain,
For more by wit than by weapons fit
His ends he strove to gain.
567
Now, when the feast was ended
And all had drunk their fill,
The Chiefs still sat, consulting what
Might bode them good or ill;
What meant the base-born Prior,
What Lethington wished to get,
What Grange would do if the trumpet blew
A note of battle yet.
And all had drunk their fill,
The Chiefs still sat, consulting what
Might bode them good or ill;
What meant the base-born Prior,
What Lethington wished to get,
What Grange would do if the trumpet blew
A note of battle yet.
And some said this, and some said that,
And hot debate arose,
And young heads got with the good wine hot,
And well-nigh came to blows.
Then the Earl held up a brimming cup,
Saying, “Pledge we all our Queen,
The fairest face, and the rarest grace,
That ever the land hath seen.
And hot debate arose,
And young heads got with the good wine hot,
And well-nigh came to blows.
Then the Earl held up a brimming cup,
Saying, “Pledge we all our Queen,
The fairest face, and the rarest grace,
That ever the land hath seen.
“She comes not here for judgment,
Nor comes she here to fight,
But trusts in you whose hearts are true,
That you'll maintain her right;
Lord Gordon has been wooing,
And I think that he has won
Her love and faith that until death
Shall bind them into one.
Nor comes she here to fight,
But trusts in you whose hearts are true,
That you'll maintain her right;
Lord Gordon has been wooing,
And I think that he has won
Her love and faith that until death
Shall bind them into one.
“As for her bastard brother
Who thinks our lands to gain—
Moray and Mar both, mine they are,
And mine they shall remain.
Cleverly she has fooled them
Here where our strength doth lie,
And six to one we shall set on,
And smite them hip and thigh.”
Who thinks our lands to gain—
Moray and Mar both, mine they are,
And mine they shall remain.
Cleverly she has fooled them
Here where our strength doth lie,
And six to one we shall set on,
And smite them hip and thigh.”
Up sprang Adam o' Gordon,
A cockerel brisk was he,
With a lusty shout his voice rang out,
And his sword he brandished free;
And up the rest leaped with him,
Clashing their blades with might
And drank a noggin, and cried the slogan,
Keen for the coming fight.
A cockerel brisk was he,
With a lusty shout his voice rang out,
And his sword he brandished free;
And up the rest leaped with him,
Clashing their blades with might
And drank a noggin, and cried the slogan,
Keen for the coming fight.
I know not if the Gordon
Spake sooth about the Queen,
For Huntly's Earl a crafty carle
From youth to age had been.
And royal hearts are deep,
And who may search their thoughts?
And her way of life amid storm and strife
Some cunning may well have taught.
Spake sooth about the Queen,
For Huntly's Earl a crafty carle
From youth to age had been.
And royal hearts are deep,
And who may search their thoughts?
And her way of life amid storm and strife
Some cunning may well have taught.
They reckoned that the muster
Of the Gordon clan would daunt
The little band from the Fife lowland,
Which was all the Queen could vaunt.
But though her force was scanty
When she rode off to the North,
She well might boast of her gallant host,
For they all were men of worth.
Of the Gordon clan would daunt
The little band from the Fife lowland,
Which was all the Queen could vaunt.
But though her force was scanty
When she rode off to the North,
She well might boast of her gallant host,
For they all were men of worth.
Lord James could play the man,
Though he liked to rule the State,
Kirkaldy stood a soldier good,
And few with him could mate;
And Maitland, deep in thought, could keep
A cool head in the fray;
They had learned in France to wield the lance,
And to order the battle array.
Though he liked to rule the State,
Kirkaldy stood a soldier good,
And few with him could mate;
And Maitland, deep in thought, could keep
A cool head in the fray;
They had learned in France to wield the lance,
And to order the battle array.
To Corrichie marched the Gordons,
All ready for the fight,
With cords and bands to bind the hands
Of captive Lord and Knight—
Two thousand plaided men
With dirk and sharp claymore,
They were ill trained, but they had stained
The heather full oft with gore.
All ready for the fight,
With cords and bands to bind the hands
Of captive Lord and Knight—
Two thousand plaided men
With dirk and sharp claymore,
They were ill trained, but they had stained
The heather full oft with gore.
568
They came on with a rush
And a barbarous slogan cry,
And taunting words, and brandished swords,
And the pibroch sounding high;
The odds indeed were great.
But their foes were better drilled,
And theirs too was the better cause,
And their leaders better skilled.
And a barbarous slogan cry,
And taunting words, and brandished swords,
And the pibroch sounding high;
The odds indeed were great.
But their foes were better drilled,
And theirs too was the better cause,
And their leaders better skilled.
Half-way across the field,
When the race had tried their wind,
They had to cross a black flow moss
Where their ranks were swiftly thinned.
The volleys from the muskets
They answered still with cheers,
But they faltered plain when they reached the main
Battle of bristling spears.
When the race had tried their wind,
They had to cross a black flow moss
Where their ranks were swiftly thinned.
The volleys from the muskets
They answered still with cheers,
But they faltered plain when they reached the main
Battle of bristling spears.
Lord Huntly was a Chief
But hardly a fighting man;
It might not be fear, but from the rear
He ordered still his clan,
Though he saw Lord James in front,
And Grange lead on his men,
And their serried rank from the solid bank
Hurl back his force again.
But hardly a fighting man;
It might not be fear, but from the rear
He ordered still his clan,
Though he saw Lord James in front,
And Grange lead on his men,
And their serried rank from the solid bank
Hurl back his force again.
Right soon the play was played,
And shouts were changed to shrieks;
'Twas scarce begun ere it was done,
Though it had been planned for weeks.
Brief was the time of battle,
The Coronach needed more.
But it will be years ere the woman's tears,
Are dry as they were before.
And shouts were changed to shrieks;
'Twas scarce begun ere it was done,
Though it had been planned for weeks.
Brief was the time of battle,
The Coronach needed more.
But it will be years ere the woman's tears,
Are dry as they were before.
Some said Earl Huntly fell—
For he was an unwieldy man,
And scant o' breath—and was done to death
In the back rush of his clan.
Some held that he died of shame
That his House was brought so low;
This only I say that dead he lay
With never a wound to show.
For he was an unwieldy man,
And scant o' breath—and was done to death
In the back rush of his clan.
Some held that he died of shame
That his House was brought so low;
This only I say that dead he lay
With never a wound to show.
So the Gordon's might was broken,
And it did not fall alone,
For never again was a great House fain
To wrestle a fall with the throne,
As Somerled and Bell-the-Cat
Had done in days of old,
For the power o' th' Law now held in awe
Both chief and baron bold.
And it did not fall alone,
For never again was a great House fain
To wrestle a fall with the throne,
As Somerled and Bell-the-Cat
Had done in days of old,
For the power o' th' Law now held in awe
Both chief and baron bold.
LADY SEATON'S COMPLAINT
Alone here, and in anguish
As motherhood draws nigh,
I pine and faint and languish
While the hours drag slowly by;
Yet, My Lord, I'll not upbraid him
That he is not here;
Mary, Mother, aid him,
Holy saints be near.
As motherhood draws nigh,
I pine and faint and languish
While the hours drag slowly by;
Yet, My Lord, I'll not upbraid him
That he is not here;
Mary, Mother, aid him,
Holy saints be near.
He is not gone a-stalking
The red deer on the hill,
Nor yet with falcon hawking
By marsh or moor or rill,
Else I might upbraid him
That he is not here;
But Mary, Mother, aid him,
Holy saints be near.
The red deer on the hill,
Nor yet with falcon hawking
By marsh or moor or rill,
Else I might upbraid him
That he is not here;
But Mary, Mother, aid him,
Holy saints be near.
He is not with gay young nobles
A-playing at the ball,
Nor is he throwing doubles
Where dice uncertain fall,
Else I would upbraid him
That he is not here;
But Mary, Mother, aid him,
Holy saints be near.
A-playing at the ball,
Nor is he throwing doubles
Where dice uncertain fall,
Else I would upbraid him
That he is not here;
But Mary, Mother, aid him,
Holy saints be near.
569
When the Council ponders,
He comes with words of light;
Or when the battle thunders,
He strikes for truth and right;
So I may not upbraid him
That he is not here;
Mary, Mother, aid him,
Holy saints be near.
He comes with words of light;
Or when the battle thunders,
He strikes for truth and right;
So I may not upbraid him
That he is not here;
Mary, Mother, aid him,
Holy saints be near.
When his Queen is needing
Loyal hearts and true;
When the Church lies bleeding,
And calls for succour due,
There his faith has led him,
Though his heart is here;
Mary, Mother, aid him,
Holy saints be near
Loyal hearts and true;
When the Church lies bleeding,
And calls for succour due,
There his faith has led him,
Though his heart is here;
Mary, Mother, aid him,
Holy saints be near
Yet my heart is longing
For his fond caress,
Fears and fancies thronging
On my loneliness;
I will not upbraid him
In my hour of pain,
But Mary, Mother, aid him,
And bring him soon again.
For his fond caress,
Fears and fancies thronging
On my loneliness;
I will not upbraid him
In my hour of pain,
But Mary, Mother, aid him,
And bring him soon again.
IN EDINBURGH CASTLE
Where the wall its shadow cast
As the sun went redly down,
To and fro Grange and Lethington passed,
While the light upon Arthur Seat faded fast,
And on grey St. Giles's crown.
As the sun went redly down,
To and fro Grange and Lethington passed,
While the light upon Arthur Seat faded fast,
And on grey St. Giles's crown.
The siege drew nigh its close,
For hemmed in on every side,
Each new morning of late they rose
To a famine of bread, and a feast of blows,
And many had pined and died.
For hemmed in on every side,
Each new morning of late they rose
To a famine of bread, and a feast of blows,
And many had pined and died.
Grange was a soldier brave,
Maitland was crafty and keen;
They had tried by their wits to guide the wave,
And to ride the tide when the storm did rave,
And bring back the captive Queen.
Maitland was crafty and keen;
They had tried by their wits to guide the wave,
And to ride the tide when the storm did rave,
And bring back the captive Queen.
Said Maitland, “The end draws near,
And they'll strike, and will not spare;
When we render the place, if they find us here
They will hang us over the battle-ments clear
For the corbies to pick us bare.
And they'll strike, and will not spare;
When we render the place, if they find us here
They will hang us over the battle-ments clear
For the corbies to pick us bare.
But I mean not to give them the chance:
Life is sweet, yet I fear not death
If it comes in due course, as the years advance,
Or by stroke of a sword, or thrust of a lance,
Or a bullet that stops your breath.
Life is sweet, yet I fear not death
If it comes in due course, as the years advance,
Or by stroke of a sword, or thrust of a lance,
Or a bullet that stops your breath.
But the men of the long black robe
Have a method from which I shrink—
A running noose, and a howling mob,
And a fumbling hangman who bungles his job,
And I'd rather the old Roman drink.
Have a method from which I shrink—
A running noose, and a howling mob,
And a fumbling hangman who bungles his job,
And I'd rather the old Roman drink.
To-morrow the game will be up,
On the whole we have not played it ill;
But we've lost. And what say you with me to sup
This evening, and share in a farewell cup
That will settle our share of the bill?
On the whole we have not played it ill;
But we've lost. And what say you with me to sup
This evening, and share in a farewell cup
That will settle our share of the bill?
The food will be scant, for I think
Our rations have come to a close;
But we shall not complain of the wine that we drink,
For we still have a flask that will bubble and wink,
And mock at our well-baffled foes.
Our rations have come to a close;
But we shall not complain of the wine that we drink,
For we still have a flask that will bubble and wink,
And mock at our well-baffled foes.
570
You will not? you don't mind the rope?
Or is it religion restrains?
And have we got rid of the old-fashioned Pope,
But to cling all the more to the fear and the hope
Which were the mainspring of his gains.
Or is it religion restrains?
And have we got rid of the old-fashioned Pope,
But to cling all the more to the fear and the hope
Which were the mainspring of his gains.
Ah well! By and by I shall know
More than Priest or Presbyter can,
Of the place up above, or the place down below,
And I'll take all the risk of it rather than show
That I cannot face death like a man.
More than Priest or Presbyter can,
Of the place up above, or the place down below,
And I'll take all the risk of it rather than show
That I cannot face death like a man.
Knox prays for you every night,
But has never a good word for me;
I am doomed, as it seems, to go down to the pit
As the one place for which I am thoroughly fit,
And where I must evermore be.
But has never a good word for me;
I am doomed, as it seems, to go down to the pit
As the one place for which I am thoroughly fit,
And where I must evermore be.
Yet I fancy that John might have dropt
A word for me, just by the way.
He must know that when some of you foolishly hoped
To blind him, or bribe him, 'twas I alone stopped
All efforts at that kind of play.
A word for me, just by the way.
He must know that when some of you foolishly hoped
To blind him, or bribe him, 'twas I alone stopped
All efforts at that kind of play.
'Twas insulting him even to think
Of winning him o'er to our side,
Or getting him even for a moment to wink,
When he had, as he always had, some certain blink
Of the thing we were striving to hide.
Of winning him o'er to our side,
Or getting him even for a moment to wink,
When he had, as he always had, some certain blink
Of the thing we were striving to hide.
He was just the one man in the land
We could neither corrupt nor appal,
Who clearly saw through all the plots that we planned;
And with hardly a trump card once in his hand,
He has won the great game from us all.
We could neither corrupt nor appal,
Who clearly saw through all the plots that we planned;
And with hardly a trump card once in his hand,
He has won the great game from us all.
I grant him a head always clear,
And a will that no terrors could bend,
A heart that felt never a shrinking of fear,
And would not be moved by a smile or a tear
Of his Queen, or his lovingest friend.
And a will that no terrors could bend,
A heart that felt never a shrinking of fear,
And would not be moved by a smile or a tear
Of his Queen, or his lovingest friend.
And it was not his own ends he sought,
I allow him honest and true—
A dreamer of course, and a danger, but not
To mend his own fortune, or better his lot,
As we mostly were minded to do.
I allow him honest and true—
A dreamer of course, and a danger, but not
To mend his own fortune, or better his lot,
As we mostly were minded to do.
He is not the manner of man
To be tricked or terrified—no!
But had you adopted the one certain plan
Wise rulers have used since the world began,
He would have been dead long ago,
To be tricked or terrified—no!
But had you adopted the one certain plan
Wise rulers have used since the world began,
He would have been dead long ago,
And we should have ruled in his stead,
And brought back the Queen to her throne,
And seen on the Tolbooth the grin of his head
Where it stuck on the spike, as I hear that he said
He hoped yet to look on my own.
And brought back the Queen to her throne,
And seen on the Tolbooth the grin of his head
Where it stuck on the spike, as I hear that he said
He hoped yet to look on my own.
But you scrupled to ransom the State
By the life he was ready to give,
Though your fine gospel rests, and its glory is great,
On the fact that a man bowed his head unto Fate
That the perishing people might live.
By the life he was ready to give,
Though your fine gospel rests, and its glory is great,
On the fact that a man bowed his head unto Fate
That the perishing people might live.
571
So the Queen has been driven from her throne,
And the Kirk has been robbed of its lands,
And Mitres, Madonnas, and Masses are gone,
And Knox, o'er the ruin exalted alone,
Plays Pope, and our nobles commands.
And the Kirk has been robbed of its lands,
And Mitres, Madonnas, and Masses are gone,
And Knox, o'er the ruin exalted alone,
Plays Pope, and our nobles commands.
But I'll none of his orders, nor yet
The gallows he means for my throat,
So long as I know how to pay the old debt
With a fair cup of wine after supper, and get
To the end of all uncertain thought.
The gallows he means for my throat,
So long as I know how to pay the old debt
With a fair cup of wine after supper, and get
To the end of all uncertain thought.
That supper did never take place,
For the Castle was rendered that day,
And the rebels obtained neither favour nor grace,
But were haled to the prison, and looked in the face
Of a great howling mob all the way.
For the Castle was rendered that day,
And the rebels obtained neither favour nor grace,
But were haled to the prison, and looked in the face
Of a great howling mob all the way.
Only Maitland one morning was found,
With a flask near his white finger-tips,
Lying low in his cell on the rush-covered ground,
With a sweet sickly smell hanging heavily round,
And a cynical smile on his lips.
With a flask near his white finger-tips,
Lying low in his cell on the rush-covered ground,
With a sweet sickly smell hanging heavily round,
And a cynical smile on his lips.
“THERE'S A HOLE IN THIS PARLIAMENT”
Ill fares the land when favourites rule
A king that makes pretence to reign,
And power is given to knave or fool
Who nothing heed but lust of gain.
There is no order in the State,
No safety in the common street
For brawls and feuds among the great,
That rage wherever they chance to meet.
A king that makes pretence to reign,
And power is given to knave or fool
Who nothing heed but lust of gain.
There is no order in the State,
No safety in the common street
For brawls and feuds among the great,
That rage wherever they chance to meet.
Perhaps a Max well bites his nail,
And straight a Johnstone's sword is out;
Perhaps an angry Scott may rail,
And Carrs their slogan then will shout.
Let Douglas keep the Cause way crown,
And Hamiltons will storm the while;
And half the Clans will throng the town
To mock the pride of great Argyll.
And straight a Johnstone's sword is out;
Perhaps an angry Scott may rail,
And Carrs their slogan then will shout.
Let Douglas keep the Cause way crown,
And Hamiltons will storm the while;
And half the Clans will throng the town
To mock the pride of great Argyll.
The Grants and Gordons are not slack
To dirk each other, when they can;
The Chisholm hangs on Lovat's back
To prove which is the better man;
Lochaber troops out from its glens
To bar the Mackintoshs' way;
And all the Macs from all the Bens
Hunt the M'Gregors of Glenstrae.
To dirk each other, when they can;
The Chisholm hangs on Lovat's back
To prove which is the better man;
Lochaber troops out from its glens
To bar the Mackintoshs' way;
And all the Macs from all the Bens
Hunt the M'Gregors of Glenstrae.
They brawl even in the Hall of State,
And plot and organise deceit,
And at the crossways stand in wait
For broil and battle in the street;
While thieves are raiding on the border,
And doing murder in the North,
And there's no power of Law or order
Beyond the bridge across the Forth.
And plot and organise deceit,
And at the crossways stand in wait
For broil and battle in the street;
While thieves are raiding on the border,
And doing murder in the North,
And there's no power of Law or order
Beyond the bridge across the Forth.
Lo! Arran swaggers 'mong his peers,
And lords it like a very king;
A man in vice, a boy in years,
Who women's hearts is fain to wring.
They come by sudden death who chance
To stand, apparent, in his way;
And yet he gaily leads the dance,
A trifler and a popinjay.
And lords it like a very king;
A man in vice, a boy in years,
Who women's hearts is fain to wring.
They come by sudden death who chance
To stand, apparent, in his way;
And yet he gaily leads the dance,
A trifler and a popinjay.
An evil time of wild unrest,
And malice plotting how to kill,
And sorrow doth our homes infest,
And plague and famine work their will.
And hard the lot is of the poor,
On every hand by ills beset,
With nothing, but their hunger, sure,
And nothing growing, but their debt.
And malice plotting how to kill,
And sorrow doth our homes infest,
And plague and famine work their will.
And hard the lot is of the poor,
On every hand by ills beset,
With nothing, but their hunger, sure,
And nothing growing, but their debt.
572
'Tis sorry work in growing age
To see all love of learning fail,
And youth turn from the thoughtful page
To stoups of wine and cogs of ale,
And lewd-eyed women lead the men,
Who lead the nation in its path,
And Priests and Masses back again,
And all the signs of coming wrath.
To see all love of learning fail,
And youth turn from the thoughtful page
To stoups of wine and cogs of ale,
And lewd-eyed women lead the men,
Who lead the nation in its path,
And Priests and Masses back again,
And all the signs of coming wrath.
May God have pity on the land,
Give wisdom to the King to rule,
Let Law and Justice, hand-in-hand,
Put down the oppressor and his tool,
Bring back the order of the State,
And plenty to the poor man's home,
And make the Kirk her pride abate,
And let His kingdom truly come.
Give wisdom to the King to rule,
Let Law and Justice, hand-in-hand,
Put down the oppressor and his tool,
Bring back the order of the State,
And plenty to the poor man's home,
And make the Kirk her pride abate,
And let His kingdom truly come.
EUPHANE SKENE
1
Between the Houses of Leith and SkeneWell-a-day!
A deadly feud had for ages been,
And their hate was the hate of hell, I ween,
Well-a-day!
All of the Skenes were of ruthless mood,
But the young lord Leith was meek and good.
2
Said her brothers to Euphane fair,Well-a-day!
Your speech is like song in the morning air,
And your shining eyes, and your golden hair,
Well-a-day!
Will blind him, and bind him fast, and then
Trust us to do what is fit for men.
3
Well their meaning she understood,Well-a-day!
And she said in her heart that it was good,
For she heired the hate of the ancient feud;
Well-a-day!
From early youth she had breathed it in,
Nor wist that it was a breath of sin.
4
She plied him now with her winsome smile,Well-a-day!
With luring word and glance and wile;
But she lost her heart to him the while;
Well-a-day!
And the love was more than the hate had been
In the better heart of Euphane Skene.
5
A brief stolen hour in the gloaming dim,Well-a-day!
That was all she might give to him,
Dreading the wrath of her kinsmen grim,
Well-a-day!
And every evening she meant to say,
I am not worthy, haste thee away.
6
But still as she framed her lips to speak,Well-a-day!
Her tongue refused, for her heart was weak;
And she said, He is tender and true and meek,
Well-a-day!
And when he shall hear of my hateful game,
He will cast me off like a thing of shame.
573
7
They fell upon him with sword and dirk,Well-a-day!
As he sat with her near to the old grey Kirk
Under the boughs of the weeping birk:
Well-a-day!
He was but one, and they were three,
They were her brothers, her lover he.
8
She held him now in a last embrace,Well-a-day!
The hot blood spurted in her face,
The red blood plashed in their trysting-place,
Well-a-day!
And fain to stanch the cruel wound,
She rent her robes, and the gashes bound.
9
She called to him loud, and she called to him low,Well-a-day!
In sweet love-words from the heart that flow,
And never before had she kissed him so,
Well-a-day!
The pale cold moon looked down upon
A pale cold face where the life was gone.
10
The pale cold moon that looketh downWell-a-day!
On moor and garth, on tower and town,
On the peasant's cot and the Prince's crown,
Well-a-day!
Saw nought that night like the deep despair
Of the maiden that clasped her lover there.
11
She did not weep, and she did not moan,Well-a-day!
But her eyes were as fire, and her heart as stone,
And she took her way to the moors alone,
Well-a-day!
With an eldritch laugh, and a snatch of song
That startled the night as she tript along.
12
Off to the moors with the whaup and fox,Well-a-day!
Where the glede has her nest in the ragged rocks,
And the raven follows the sickly flocks;
Well-a-day!
And never again to the Kirk came she,
Nor yet where her love-haunts wont to be.
13
Summer and winter, by brooks and springs,Well-a-day!
Weird and eerie her songs she sings,
Weird and eerie her laughter rings,
Well-a-day!
And poor folk sain them by the fire,
And milk-maids shiver in lonely byre.
YOUNG ERSKINE OF DUN
The lands of Dun right fair they be,
Where Esk runs rippling to the sea
Past broomy bank, and daisied lea,
And cheerful cottage door.
From dark Lochee its water flows
By Brechin tower to bright Montrose,
And there into the ocean goes,
Through the crimp sandy shore.
Where Esk runs rippling to the sea
Past broomy bank, and daisied lea,
And cheerful cottage door.
From dark Lochee its water flows
By Brechin tower to bright Montrose,
And there into the ocean goes,
Through the crimp sandy shore.
574
Like it I hoped to make my life
Tranquil and free from sturt and strife,
And that, in patient labours rife,
It should in fruit abound;
For I would keep an honoured name
From taint of wrong, and shade of blame,
And would exalt my grandsire's fame,
Who life in learning found.
Tranquil and free from sturt and strife,
And that, in patient labours rife,
It should in fruit abound;
For I would keep an honoured name
From taint of wrong, and shade of blame,
And would exalt my grandsire's fame,
Who life in learning found.
I would not follow trump or drum,
Nor handle sword and spear like some,
But love of wisdom should become
My heart's desire and aim.
Let schemers hang about the Court,
And soldiers to the wars resort,
And idlers take them into sport,
And hunt the moors for game;
Nor handle sword and spear like some,
But love of wisdom should become
My heart's desire and aim.
Let schemers hang about the Court,
And soldiers to the wars resort,
And idlers take them into sport,
And hunt the moors for game;
But I would be a scholar true,
And ponder till I thoroughly knew
Greek sage and tragic poet too,
With all their wealth of thought;
And go to other lands, and look
For manuscript and printed book,
Then ponder in the ingle-neuk
The treasures I had got.
And ponder till I thoroughly knew
Greek sage and tragic poet too,
With all their wealth of thought;
And go to other lands, and look
For manuscript and printed book,
Then ponder in the ingle-neuk
The treasures I had got.
With ample wealth, I did not care
To heap up gold, nor yet to wear
Fine robes in some high State affair,
And ruffle it with Lords.
I would be rich in things above
The lusts of sense, and I would prove
The worth of a more noble love
For wise and faithful words.
To heap up gold, nor yet to wear
Fine robes in some high State affair,
And ruffle it with Lords.
I would be rich in things above
The lusts of sense, and I would prove
The worth of a more noble love
For wise and faithful words.
O bright dream of aspiring youth
Waiting at learning's gate for truth,
And keeping her way rough or smooth,
Thy hope has vanished soon.
For honoured name and good estate
Brought me an heritage of hate,
That dooms me to a cruel fate
Before my day's full noon.
Waiting at learning's gate for truth,
And keeping her way rough or smooth,
Thy hope has vanished soon.
For honoured name and good estate
Brought me an heritage of hate,
That dooms me to a cruel fate
Before my day's full noon.
My uncle's envious wrath is fell,
My aunts are in a league of hell
To cast on me a witch's spell
And wind me in my shroud.
But for my foster-mother brave,
I had ere now been in my grave,
And slept beside the breaking wave
Among the silent crowd.
My aunts are in a league of hell
To cast on me a witch's spell
And wind me in my shroud.
But for my foster-mother brave,
I had ere now been in my grave,
And slept beside the breaking wave
Among the silent crowd.
And now that she is gone, I know
They drench me with a poison slow,
And life is waxing faint and low,
And lo! the end draws nigh.
They tell me that they only deal
With one who has the art to heal;
But every potion makes me feel
That I am doomed to die.
They drench me with a poison slow,
And life is waxing faint and low,
And lo! the end draws nigh.
They tell me that they only deal
With one who has the art to heal;
But every potion makes me feel
That I am doomed to die.
Better I had been cottar's son
Than heir to all the lands of Dun:
I had been envied then by none,
But had of love my share.
O Bell and Annas, could you go,
O'er Cairn-a-mount amid the snow,
For witch's drugs to work this woe,
And shame the name ye bear?
Than heir to all the lands of Dun:
I had been envied then by none,
But had of love my share.
O Bell and Annas, could you go,
O'er Cairn-a-mount amid the snow,
For witch's drugs to work this woe,
And shame the name ye bear?
Fain would I live a while. But this
Slow sinking where no mercy is,
And every sign of love I miss,
And every touch of grace—
Oh rather to be dead indeed,
And watch no more the wicked deed,
And the hard looks of hate and greed
That stare from every face.
Slow sinking where no mercy is,
And every sign of love I miss,
And every touch of grace—
Oh rather to be dead indeed,
And watch no more the wicked deed,
And the hard looks of hate and greed
That stare from every face.
So death upon him subtly crept,
And no one mourned for him or wept,
But justice woke up when he slept,
And smote though all too late.—
Woe's me! that, like a hideous dream,
The House that all men did esteem
Should perish in a murderous scheme
Of dark malignant hate!
And no one mourned for him or wept,
But justice woke up when he slept,
And smote though all too late.—
Woe's me! that, like a hideous dream,
The House that all men did esteem
Should perish in a murderous scheme
Of dark malignant hate!
575
THE GERMAN SCOTS
Mackay of Strathnaver
He summoned his clan,
And plaided and claymored,
They came to a man—
Brisk lads of Strathnaver,
And gallants of Reay,
A thousand brave fellows
In tartan array.
He summoned his clan,
And plaided and claymored,
They came to a man—
Brisk lads of Strathnaver,
And gallants of Reay,
A thousand brave fellows
In tartan array.
The Leslies and Gordons,
Sent forth, too, their sons,
With Munros and Mackenzies
And Sinclairs and Gunns;
Another good thousand
To cross the North Sea,
And fight under Mansfield
In high Germanie.
Sent forth, too, their sons,
With Munros and Mackenzies
And Sinclairs and Gunns;
Another good thousand
To cross the North Sea,
And fight under Mansfield
In high Germanie.
For ages our Scots lads
Had “boun” them to France,
And guarded its monarch
With good sword and lance;
But their hearts now were burning
With new faith and hope
To match the grim legions
That fought for the Pope.
Had “boun” them to France,
And guarded its monarch
With good sword and lance;
But their hearts now were burning
With new faith and hope
To match the grim legions
That fought for the Pope.
Dead was stout Mansfield
Before they touched land,
But the Dane seized the banner
That dropt from his hand:
And straight at his summons
Mackay led his men,
Though at Oldenburg perished
At least three in ten.
Before they touched land,
But the Dane seized the banner
That dropt from his hand:
And straight at his summons
Mackay led his men,
Though at Oldenburg perished
At least three in ten.
At onslaught and leaguer
The Scots bore the brunt,
Held the rear in retreating,
In battle the front;
But the Dane, beat by Tilly,
Soon gave up the lead
In the conflict of nations,
Which fell to the Swede.
The Scots bore the brunt,
Held the rear in retreating,
In battle the front;
But the Dane, beat by Tilly,
Soon gave up the lead
In the conflict of nations,
Which fell to the Swede.
It fell to Gustavus,
King, soldier, and knight,
To blend rival peoples,
And order the fight;
And never was army
Inspired as his was
With faith in their leader,
And faith in their cause.
King, soldier, and knight,
To blend rival peoples,
And order the fight;
And never was army
Inspired as his was
With faith in their leader,
And faith in their cause.
Our Scots bore them bravely
In many a fight
With the great King Gustavus
To witness the sight,
At Leipsic, and Nurnberg,
'Gainst Tilly's Walloons,
And the big Pappenheimers,
And Walstein's dragoons.
In many a fight
With the great King Gustavus
To witness the sight,
At Leipsic, and Nurnberg,
'Gainst Tilly's Walloons,
And the big Pappenheimers,
And Walstein's dragoons.
Oh, never such a captain
As ours, led the host,
And while he commanded
No battle was lost;
In raid and in skirmish
They still had the best,
From triumph to triumph
Aye onward they pressed.
As ours, led the host,
And while he commanded
No battle was lost;
In raid and in skirmish
They still had the best,
From triumph to triumph
Aye onward they pressed.
On the dark day of Lutzen
They followed the bier
Of the death-stricken victor
With many a tear;
Yet Lutzen with glory
Was filled to the brim,
But it seemed a lost battle,
Because they lost him.
They followed the bier
Of the death-stricken victor
With many a tear;
Yet Lutzen with glory
Was filled to the brim,
But it seemed a lost battle,
Because they lost him.
And their hearts raged with fury,
Hearing men say
That there had been a traitor,
And death by foul play,
And that one of their number,
Who scaithless had been
When the battle was ended,
No longer was seen.
Hearing men say
That there had been a traitor,
And death by foul play,
And that one of their number,
Who scaithless had been
When the battle was ended,
No longer was seen.
576
I know not for certain;
But this I do find,
He who faced the foe always
Was wounded behind;
And a Gordon had lately
Sat long at a feast
With a Jesuit cousin,
A trafficking Priest.
But this I do find,
He who faced the foe always
Was wounded behind;
And a Gordon had lately
Sat long at a feast
With a Jesuit cousin,
A trafficking Priest.
If a Gordon played traitor,
And Munro sold his sword,
The men of Strathnaver
Were true to their word,
Ever patient and faithful,
They held by the right,
And for freedom and justice
Maintained a good fight.
And Munro sold his sword,
The men of Strathnaver
Were true to their word,
Ever patient and faithful,
They held by the right,
And for freedom and justice
Maintained a good fight.
They failed not brave Banier,
They stood fast by Horn,
Though stricken and starving
And tattered and torn;
And they followed Duke Bernard,
Staunch ever and keen,
Who mocked at the Snow-king,
But worshipped his Queen.
They stood fast by Horn,
Though stricken and starving
And tattered and torn;
And they followed Duke Bernard,
Staunch ever and keen,
Who mocked at the Snow-king,
But worshipped his Queen.
But it was to Gustavus
Their thoughts ever turned,
And when they recalled him
Their hearts in them burned.
As they sat round their watch-fires
On cold winter nights,
It was good cheer and comfort
To talk of his fights.
Their thoughts ever turned,
And when they recalled him
Their hearts in them burned.
As they sat round their watch-fires
On cold winter nights,
It was good cheer and comfort
To talk of his fights.
How he ordered the battle,
And still led the way,
As keen for the tussle,
So calm in the fray;
How he saw to his soldiers
That all had their due,
And his little name-children
Of all ranks he knew.
And still led the way,
As keen for the tussle,
So calm in the fray;
How he saw to his soldiers
That all had their due,
And his little name-children
Of all ranks he knew.
Well he schooled them, and trained them
From childhood for war;
But they learned from their Bibles
What God's soldiers are,
And they learned to love freedom,
And yet to obey;
And none were more stedfast
At Naseby than they.
From childhood for war;
But they learned from their Bibles
What God's soldiers are,
And they learned to love freedom,
And yet to obey;
And none were more stedfast
At Naseby than they.
Thinned had their ranks been
At Oldenburg Pass,
And they perished by hundreds
At Lutzen, alas!
Yet home with old Leslie,
All covered with scars,
They came to take part
In the Covenant wars.
At Oldenburg Pass,
And they perished by hundreds
At Lutzen, alas!
Yet home with old Leslie,
All covered with scars,
They came to take part
In the Covenant wars.
Thrice had the Highlands
Recruited their ranks,
And twice on the stricken field
They received thanks.
But barely a three-score
Of bent broken men,
Ever returned to
Strathnaver again.
Recruited their ranks,
And twice on the stricken field
They received thanks.
But barely a three-score
Of bent broken men,
Ever returned to
Strathnaver again.
FATHER INNES, S.J.
He was a dark, spare, sickly man,
And had a rapt look in his eyes,
Still young in years, but pale and wan;
And well himself he could disguise:
A fisher's garb he sometimes wore,
As chapman now he bore a pack,
A valet next at a great man's door,
But ever the Priest was at his back.
And had a rapt look in his eyes,
Still young in years, but pale and wan;
And well himself he could disguise:
A fisher's garb he sometimes wore,
As chapman now he bore a pack,
A valet next at a great man's door,
But ever the Priest was at his back.
One day he lay in a cave, perdu—
A cave in a waste and wind-swept moor,
And heard the cry of the wild curlew,
And thought of the ills he did endure,
And to himself he muttered low,
Impatient of his luckless fate,
For he had trysted then to go
Where death was coming, and would not wait.
A cave in a waste and wind-swept moor,
And heard the cry of the wild curlew,
And thought of the ills he did endure,
577
Impatient of his luckless fate,
For he had trysted then to go
Where death was coming, and would not wait.
Hark! to the shouts of armèd men,
And the tramp of horses ridden hard,
They search for me o'er hill and glen
To earn a vile law's vile reward,
While one who has my promise true,
And who is needing ghostly aid,
May wait until his hour is due,
And pass unshriven among the dead.
And the tramp of horses ridden hard,
They search for me o'er hill and glen
To earn a vile law's vile reward,
While one who has my promise true,
And who is needing ghostly aid,
May wait until his hour is due,
And pass unshriven among the dead.
What have I done that I must hide
With the wild beasts in dens and caves,
Or on some sea-girt isle abide,
Where gulls shriek to the breaking waves?
My father's home I long to see,
But they have lodged a preacher there
To catechise the family,
And trap the children in their snare.
With the wild beasts in dens and caves,
Or on some sea-girt isle abide,
Where gulls shriek to the breaking waves?
My father's home I long to see,
But they have lodged a preacher there
To catechise the family,
And trap the children in their snare.
I pass from house to house at night
When there is neither moon nor star,
That I may reach, ere morning light,
Some shelter where the Faithful are;
By faintest tracks I cross the moor,
Oft blinded by the rain and snow,
To creep in by some secret door,
And hide me in a chamber low.
When there is neither moon nor star,
That I may reach, ere morning light,
Some shelter where the Faithful are;
By faintest tracks I cross the moor,
Oft blinded by the rain and snow,
To creep in by some secret door,
And hide me in a chamber low.
Perchance it is a baron's hall,
Perchance 'tis but a fisher's cot,
But mansion big, or hovel small,
A hiding-place is all I've got—
No home for me, no warm fireside,
No haunt of tender love and peace,
Where fretting cares are laid aside,
And fears of sudden peril cease.
Perchance 'tis but a fisher's cot,
But mansion big, or hovel small,
A hiding-place is all I've got—
No home for me, no warm fireside,
No haunt of tender love and peace,
Where fretting cares are laid aside,
And fears of sudden peril cease.
Why should I as an outlaw live
For doing what the Church enjoins,
And giving, as I strive to give,
Poor souls the grace that girds their loins?
I take my life into my hand—
And never would I grudge the price—
When offering up by Christ's command
The sacramental sacrifice.
For doing what the Church enjoins,
And giving, as I strive to give,
Poor souls the grace that girds their loins?
I take my life into my hand—
And never would I grudge the price—
When offering up by Christ's command
The sacramental sacrifice.
I take my soul into my hand,
At times, when, to avoid pursuit,
In some rude ale-house far inland
I ruffle it with sot and brute;
Or worse, when I perchance must go
To kirk, with many sickening qualms,
And groan, and wear a look of woe,
And hear their sermons and their psalms.
At times, when, to avoid pursuit,
In some rude ale-house far inland
I ruffle it with sot and brute;
Or worse, when I perchance must go
To kirk, with many sickening qualms,
And groan, and wear a look of woe,
And hear their sermons and their psalms.
I do it not for men's applause
Whereon the heart oft vainly leans,
I do it for a holy cause
That surely sanctifies the means;
I do it for the Church's sake,
Although I have a sense of sin,
Till full confession I can make,
And priestly absolution win.
Whereon the heart oft vainly leans,
I do it for a holy cause
That surely sanctifies the means;
I do it for the Church's sake,
Although I have a sense of sin,
Till full confession I can make,
And priestly absolution win.
Yet wherefore do I now complain
In poor self-pity, when I think
Of the full cup of shame and pain
The heroes of our Order drink,
The tortures that do rack their joints,
The horrors that they have to see,
The aches and grief that God appoints
To perfect their great Charity?
In poor self-pity, when I think
Of the full cup of shame and pain
The heroes of our Order drink,
The tortures that do rack their joints,
The horrors that they have to see,
The aches and grief that God appoints
To perfect their great Charity?
And oh, when in some house of worth
I venture from my hiding-place,
And bring the sacred vessels forth,
And sain them for the work of grace,
And then decore the altar fit,
And cense the air with incense faint
In castle-chapel, dimly lit,
Or crumbling shrine of some old saint;
I venture from my hiding-place,
And bring the sacred vessels forth,
And sain them for the work of grace,
And then decore the altar fit,
And cense the air with incense faint
In castle-chapel, dimly lit,
Or crumbling shrine of some old saint;
And when they all, with one accord,
Before the uplifted Host do kneel,
And worship and adore the Lord,—
Oh the glad recompense I feel!
I know my face then shineth bright,
And every pulse beats clear and strong,
My darkness then is filled with light
And glory and the voice of song.
Before the uplifted Host do kneel,
And worship and adore the Lord,—
Oh the glad recompense I feel!
578
And every pulse beats clear and strong,
My darkness then is filled with light
And glory and the voice of song.
I bring them comfort, dry their tears,
Their longing souls I satisfy:
What matter then my cares and fears?
What matter if I live or die?
E'en let the rogues make harsher laws,
And hang or drown or burn my youth,
A martyr in a holy cause,
They shall not overthrow the truth.
Their longing souls I satisfy:
What matter then my cares and fears?
What matter if I live or die?
E'en let the rogues make harsher laws,
And hang or drown or burn my youth,
A martyr in a holy cause,
They shall not overthrow the truth.
He knew it not; but close beside
A hot recusant darkly lay,
Who from the same pursuit did hide,
And to the cave had made his way.
As lean and pale and frail was he,
The same rapt look was in his eyes,
He had the same hard weird to dree,
But not the same art for disguise.
A hot recusant darkly lay,
Who from the same pursuit did hide,
And to the cave had made his way.
As lean and pale and frail was he,
The same rapt look was in his eyes,
He had the same hard weird to dree,
But not the same art for disguise.
For always he must testify
'Gainst Pope and Prelate, and the Priests
That traffic in idolatry,
And keep old Pagan fasts and feasts;
And hearing what the other spake,
He cried in accents loud and clear,
“I do arrest thee, Priest, and make
Thee captive of my bow and spear.”
'Gainst Pope and Prelate, and the Priests
That traffic in idolatry,
And keep old Pagan fasts and feasts;
And hearing what the other spake,
He cried in accents loud and clear,
“I do arrest thee, Priest, and make
Thee captive of my bow and spear.”
So there they stood up face to face,
And looked into each other's eyes,
And both were silent for a space,
And touched as with a strange surprise,
They were so like, so wan and lean,
So hot in theologic strife,
So sure of all their thoughts, and keen,
And had so frail a hold of life.
And looked into each other's eyes,
And both were silent for a space,
And touched as with a strange surprise,
They were so like, so wan and lean,
So hot in theologic strife,
So sure of all their thoughts, and keen,
And had so frail a hold of life.
Then said the Priest, “Go, fool! be still;
I've been a soldier in my day,
And carry arms, and I will kill
The man who would my life betray.
Yet care I not my hands to soil
With your dull peasant's sluggish blood;
Hence to your proper task of toil,
And plod among the muck and mud.”
I've been a soldier in my day,
And carry arms, and I will kill
The man who would my life betray.
Yet care I not my hands to soil
With your dull peasant's sluggish blood;
Hence to your proper task of toil,
And plod among the muck and mud.”
The other answered, “Lying Priest,
Deceiver of the souls of men,
Your time will come, but I, at least,
Will leave you in God's hands till then.
Far better toil at meanest task
Than traffic in deceit like thee,
And daily wear a lying mask,
And practise plain idolatry.”
Deceiver of the souls of men,
Your time will come, but I, at least,
Will leave you in God's hands till then.
Far better toil at meanest task
Than traffic in deceit like thee,
And daily wear a lying mask,
And practise plain idolatry.”
Then silent both, in scorn or hate,
They heard the baffled troopers rage,
And marked their hot pursuit abate,
Each brooding o'er a well-conned page;
One read his book of Hours, and one
Through chapters of his Bible ranged,
And when the lingering day was done,
Their hearts abided still unchanged.
They heard the baffled troopers rage,
And marked their hot pursuit abate,
Each brooding o'er a well-conned page;
One read his book of Hours, and one
Through chapters of his Bible ranged,
And when the lingering day was done,
Their hearts abided still unchanged.
And parting sullenly at last,
They went their several ways; but yet,
When many troubled years had passed,
Once more for one brief hour they met:
A Priest was carted to his fate,
A Whig brought to the gallows high;
I doubt if either ceased to hate—
I know that neither feared to die.
They went their several ways; but yet,
When many troubled years had passed,
Once more for one brief hour they met:
A Priest was carted to his fate,
A Whig brought to the gallows high;
I doubt if either ceased to hate—
I know that neither feared to die.
THE MACGREGORS
Landless and nameless,
By clachan and grange,
Among foes that are shameless,
And friends that are strange,
We skulk, but are tameless,
And live for revenge.
By clachan and grange,
Among foes that are shameless,
And friends that are strange,
We skulk, but are tameless,
And live for revenge.
Here we are Campbells,
And there we are Grahames;
We join in their rambles,
Take part in their games;
Till we make their homes shambles
And wrap them in flames.
And there we are Grahames;
579
Take part in their games;
Till we make their homes shambles
And wrap them in flames.
Outcasts from Glenfalloch,
Glenstrae and Glengyle,
Balquidder and Balloch,
And Katrine's green isle,
Our red deer they gralloch,
Our graves they defile.
Glenstrae and Glengyle,
Balquidder and Balloch,
And Katrine's green isle,
Our red deer they gralloch,
Our graves they defile.
For the hapless MacGregor
There is no law nor kirk,
But only the trigger,
The sword and the dirk,
And for a grave-digger
The crow in the mirk.
There is no law nor kirk,
But only the trigger,
The sword and the dirk,
And for a grave-digger
The crow in the mirk.
All faith and opinion
They wholly ignore;
Our only dominion
The mists of Benmore,
Or the crags of Stobinion
Where wild the winds roar.
They wholly ignore;
Our only dominion
The mists of Benmore,
Or the crags of Stobinion
Where wild the winds roar.
Hunted for ever
By day and by night
Over moor, loch, and river,
And bleak mountain height,
We empty our quiver
Each day in a fight.
By day and by night
Over moor, loch, and river,
And bleak mountain height,
We empty our quiver
Each day in a fight.
The grouse on the heather
Has its season of rest,
And the hare in rough weather
By fear is not pressed;
But MacGregor has neither
Close time, nor safe nest.
Has its season of rest,
And the hare in rough weather
By fear is not pressed;
But MacGregor has neither
Close time, nor safe nest.
Estranged and escheated,
No birthrights we own,
Where our homes were once seated
Grass hides the hearthstone,
Like brutes we are treated,
Like brutes we have grown.
No birthrights we own,
Where our homes were once seated
Grass hides the hearthstone,
Like brutes we are treated,
Like brutes we have grown.
They heed no denials
Of guilt and bloodshed,
Nor wait they for trials,
Or proof to be led,
To pour out the vials
Of wrath on our head.
Of guilt and bloodshed,
Nor wait they for trials,
Or proof to be led,
To pour out the vials
Of wrath on our head.
But there's a to-morrow
That comes soon or late,
When Vengeance shall borrow
The semblance of Fate,
And they shall have sorrow,
And we wreak our hate.
That comes soon or late,
When Vengeance shall borrow
The semblance of Fate,
And they shall have sorrow,
And we wreak our hate.
And the braes of Balquidder
Shall see us again,
When the bloom's on the heather,
And the sun on the rain,
As we bring back together
The tale of the slain.
Shall see us again,
When the bloom's on the heather,
And the sun on the rain,
As we bring back together
The tale of the slain.
THE LITTLE PILGRIMS
A TRADITION OF THE PLAGUE IN ABERDEEN
Father was killed the year before,
When the Gordons raided the town one day,
And now we were sitting in grief once more,
For the Pest had taken mother away.
When the Gordons raided the town one day,
And now we were sitting in grief once more,
For the Pest had taken mother away.
There were only three of us now alive,
Me and Willie and little Kate;
Katie was three, and Willie was five,
And I was the oldest, nearly eight.
Me and Willie and little Kate;
Katie was three, and Willie was five,
And I was the oldest, nearly eight.
None of our neighbours came to see
Whether we were alive or dead,
The Plague made all of them cowardly,
And they passed our door with a look of dread.
Whether we were alive or dead,
The Plague made all of them cowardly,
And they passed our door with a look of dread.
580
But we had an aunt in Elgin town,
A childless woman, and well to do,
Who was fain to have Willie once for her own,
To brighten the days that lonely grew.
A childless woman, and well to do,
Who was fain to have Willie once for her own,
To brighten the days that lonely grew.
But though we were poor, and it was ill
To win bread for us, and keep us trim,
Mother still clung to her little Will,
And never could bear to part with him.
To win bread for us, and keep us trim,
Mother still clung to her little Will,
And never could bear to part with him.
I saw we must go to Auntie, now;
But the way was long, and the days were hot,
And thieves were on every road, I trow,
And the Plague was in every likely spot.
But the way was long, and the days were hot,
And thieves were on every road, I trow,
And the Plague was in every likely spot.
Yet go we must, so I went and slid
My hand into the crock, where lay
A little purse which mother had hid,
She told me, against a rainy day.
My hand into the crock, where lay
A little purse which mother had hid,
She told me, against a rainy day.
It was not much, but I thought by wit
And thrift and carefulness how to spend,
If the thieves on the road did not come at it,
It would carry us on to our journey's end.
And thrift and carefulness how to spend,
If the thieves on the road did not come at it,
It would carry us on to our journey's end.
Then, having seen to the children's food,
I told them we would as pilgrims go,
And fare for a while in field and wood
Where the little birds sing, and the daisies grow.
I told them we would as pilgrims go,
And fare for a while in field and wood
Where the little birds sing, and the daisies grow.
Merry they were these words to hear,
And oh so gaily they questioned me;
Would I build them a nest like the dainty birds,
And rock them to sleep on a swinging tree?
And oh so gaily they questioned me;
Would I build them a nest like the dainty birds,
And rock them to sleep on a swinging tree?
They would hunt the butterflies in the sun,
And for the yellow bee's byke would quest,
And watch how the rabbits sport and run,
And the pewits flutter to hide their nest.
And for the yellow bee's byke would quest,
And watch how the rabbits sport and run,
And the pewits flutter to hide their nest.
It was early morning still when we
Left the pest-stricken town behind;
Blithe was the blue of the summer sea,
And sweet the breath of the morning wind.
Left the pest-stricken town behind;
Blithe was the blue of the summer sea,
And sweet the breath of the morning wind.
When we came to the Don, we had to go
Along by its side, and across the bridge
That spans the black water, deep and slow,
With bonnie Balgownie upon the ridge.
Along by its side, and across the bridge
That spans the black water, deep and slow,
With bonnie Balgownie upon the ridge.
By this time Katie had weary grown,
So I carried her on my back a while,
Will at my side came toddling on,
And we made in this manner a long Scots mile.
So I carried her on my back a while,
Will at my side came toddling on,
And we made in this manner a long Scots mile.
Not far from the road, a bourtree grew
That would shade us well from the noonday heat,
And a wee burn rippled on briskly through
The grass, where we bathed our hands and feet.
That would shade us well from the noonday heat,
And a wee burn rippled on briskly through
The grass, where we bathed our hands and feet.
There on our bread and milk we dined,
Blithe as the glad birds on the tree,
Which picked up the crumbs that we left behind,
As we waited a little way off to see.
Blithe as the glad birds on the tree,
Which picked up the crumbs that we left behind,
As we waited a little way off to see.
That night, low down among pleasant broom,
In a little hollow we snugly lay,
It was better far than a small close room,
And we slept till long past break of day.
In a little hollow we snugly lay,
It was better far than a small close room,
And we slept till long past break of day.
581
Sweet was our bed, and our slumber sweet,
And sweet the breath of hay-scented air;
So I said to the little ones it was meet
That Pilgrims should gather for morning prayer.
And sweet the breath of hay-scented air;
So I said to the little ones it was meet
That Pilgrims should gather for morning prayer.
Mother had done this every day,
For she said that it made her heart feel strong
To read of the new and living way,
And to sing God's praise in a God-given song.
For she said that it made her heart feel strong
To read of the new and living way,
And to sing God's praise in a God-given song.
Some verses then of the Book we read,
And sang together the Shepherd Psalm,
And we all knelt down on the grass, and said
The children's prayer, and were meek and calm.
And sang together the Shepherd Psalm,
And we all knelt down on the grass, and said
The children's prayer, and were meek and calm.
A short way off I could see a row
Of turf-built huts by the roadside plain,
And hurried me off with speed to know
If milk could be got for the love of gain.
Of turf-built huts by the roadside plain,
And hurried me off with speed to know
If milk could be got for the love of gain.
But outside the clachan I heard a cow
Straining her tether, and whisking her tail,
And I said to myself, as I heard her low,
She is waiting the maid and the milking pail.
Straining her tether, and whisking her tail,
And I said to myself, as I heard her low,
She is waiting the maid and the milking pail.
Straightway into the byre I ran—
I had learnt before with cows to deal—
The milk came free, and I filled my can,
But I left a coin, for I would not steal.
I had learnt before with cows to deal—
The milk came free, and I filled my can,
But I left a coin, for I would not steal.
Our fare was good, and we rose to go'
Not through the village, but round about
Among fields where daisies and butter-cups grow,
And we pelted each other with laugh and shout.
Not through the village, but round about
Among fields where daisies and butter-cups grow,
And we pelted each other with laugh and shout.
To the ford of Ythan we came ere night,
And close to my bosom wee Katie I drew,
Willie held on to my garments tight,
And so together we waded through.
And close to my bosom wee Katie I drew,
Willie held on to my garments tight,
And so together we waded through.
But into Ellon we might not go,
Though the little ones now were weary grown,
They drove us away with a threat or a blow,
For the dread of the plague was in every town.
Though the little ones now were weary grown,
They drove us away with a threat or a blow,
For the dread of the plague was in every town.
At a cottage, a good mile off, I spied
A woman sad with a kindly face,
And “O my bonnie, wee bairn,” she cried,
As she lifted up Kate in a fond embrace.
A woman sad with a kindly face,
And “O my bonnie, wee bairn,” she cried,
As she lifted up Kate in a fond embrace.
My baby was just like her, she said,
With the sunny face, and the curly pow,
But she lies in the kirkyard cold and dead,
And oh, but my heart is empty now.
With the sunny face, and the curly pow,
But she lies in the kirkyard cold and dead,
And oh, but my heart is empty now.
She made us food, and she bade us eat,
She cheered our hearts which were sunken low,
She gave to us also store of meat,
And told us truly the way to go.
She cheered our hearts which were sunken low,
She gave to us also store of meat,
And told us truly the way to go.
That night we lay in a warm hay-rick,
And slept till the sun was high above,
And said our prayer in the morning air
With hearts that were full of peace and love.
And slept till the sun was high above,
And said our prayer in the morning air
With hearts that were full of peace and love.
Another day, and another yet
Passed as we cheerily fared along,
Sometimes racing a little bit,
Sometimes singing a little song.
Passed as we cheerily fared along,
Sometimes racing a little bit,
Sometimes singing a little song.
That was the last of our happy times,
For now to a hamlet I must run,
That lay low down among sickly limes,
To buy us food, for our bread was done.
For now to a hamlet I must run,
That lay low down among sickly limes,
To buy us food, for our bread was done.
582
I left the little ones on a bank
With wild thyme and pansies their laps to fill;
The air was hot and heavy and dank,
Yet it gave me somehow a shivering chill.
With wild thyme and pansies their laps to fill;
The air was hot and heavy and dank,
Yet it gave me somehow a shivering chill.
And when I came to the hamlet, lo!
An awful silence held the street,
Which smote my heart with a boding of woe;
But I said we must have bread to eat.
An awful silence held the street,
Which smote my heart with a boding of woe;
But I said we must have bread to eat.
There were no children out at play,
No women were sitting on step or stair,
Hammer and saw in silence lay,
And there rose no smoke in the sultry air.
No women were sitting on step or stair,
Hammer and saw in silence lay,
And there rose no smoke in the sultry air.
There was no gleam of the red peat fires,
No careful mothers had left their bed,
The cattle were moaning in the byres,
And the rats in the gutters lay dying or dead.
No careful mothers had left their bed,
The cattle were moaning in the byres,
And the rats in the gutters lay dying or dead.
Never a dog in the place did bark,
Never a caged bird tried to sing,
All the windows were blind and dark,
And a horror lay brooding on everything.
Never a caged bird tried to sing,
All the windows were blind and dark,
And a horror lay brooding on everything.
Only a shambling idiot there
Along the causeway came stumbling on,
And cried with a voice of dull despair,
“Dead, dead! all of them dead and gone.”
Along the causeway came stumbling on,
And cried with a voice of dull despair,
“Dead, dead! all of them dead and gone.”
Then I turned in terror, and ran with speed
To the bank where I left the bairns at play,
For I felt as if death was in every breath,
And I must get Katie and Willie away.
To the bank where I left the bairns at play,
For I felt as if death was in every breath,
And I must get Katie and Willie away.
I told them there was a Dragon there
Down in the hamlet among the trees,
And his breath had poisoned the wholesome air,
And he could devour us all with ease.
Down in the hamlet among the trees,
And his breath had poisoned the wholesome air,
And he could devour us all with ease.
We must not go near it, for our lives,
But hurry away to some happier spot,
Where we could break our fast, and make
Sport of the Dragon who found us not.
But hurry away to some happier spot,
Where we could break our fast, and make
Sport of the Dragon who found us not.
We took to a path that crossed a moor,
And there for a while we lost our way;
But the air on the moor was clear and pure,
And we fed on ripe cranberries well that day.
And there for a while we lost our way;
But the air on the moor was clear and pure,
And we fed on ripe cranberries well that day.
At night we lay in a woodland shed
Made of pine branches loosely bound;
The deer lay near on their bracken bed,
And the fox slunk past on his nightly round.
Made of pine branches loosely bound;
The deer lay near on their bracken bed,
And the fox slunk past on his nightly round.
I could not sleep, and when morning broke,
And the light wind whispered among the trees,
And the little ones from their dreams awoke,
They were heavy and fractious and ill to please.
And the light wind whispered among the trees,
And the little ones from their dreams awoke,
They were heavy and fractious and ill to please.
I told them stories, and laughed and sang,
And said in an hour they should eat of the best:
And I showed them how lightly the wild deer sprang
Up to their feet from their bracken nest.
And said in an hour they should eat of the best:
And I showed them how lightly the wild deer sprang
Up to their feet from their bracken nest.
So then they began to leap and run,
And toss their heads, as if they too bore
Branching horns upon forehead dun,
And we took to the weary road once more.
And toss their heads, as if they too bore
Branching horns upon forehead dun,
And we took to the weary road once more.
583
Yet did my heaviness still abide
All through the hours of that day of pain;
I had been so careful their steps to guide
Far from the Pest, was it all in vain?
All through the hours of that day of pain;
I had been so careful their steps to guide
Far from the Pest, was it all in vain?
Willie grew better, but little Kate
Fevered more as the sun rose high,
And folk on the road that we, now and then, met
Took to the far side, and hurried by.
Fevered more as the sun rose high,
And folk on the road that we, now and then, met
Took to the far side, and hurried by.
And so our sweet little Katie died
That night as the stars came forth once more,
Lying low on my lap, she sighed,
“I'm coming, mother,” and all was o'er.
That night as the stars came forth once more,
Lying low on my lap, she sighed,
“I'm coming, mother,” and all was o'er.
And weeping low, and wailing loud,
We scraped a shallow grave off the way,
And there, without coffin or sheet or shroud,
Left her alone till the Judgment Day.
We scraped a shallow grave off the way,
And there, without coffin or sheet or shroud,
Left her alone till the Judgment Day.
What followed after I hardly know,
It is blurred with sorrow, and all confused;
We went on still, but our pace was slow,
And sometimes grossly we were abused.
It is blurred with sorrow, and all confused;
We went on still, but our pace was slow,
And sometimes grossly we were abused.
One day a sturdy beggar whined
For money, he said, to buy him food,
Though I noticed, myself, that the rogue had dined
Better a deal than ever we could.
For money, he said, to buy him food,
Though I noticed, myself, that the rogue had dined
Better a deal than ever we could.
Therefore I would not give him aught,
And he took from his girdle a gully knife,
And held its point against Willie's throat,
Swearing that straight he would have his life.
And he took from his girdle a gully knife,
And held its point against Willie's throat,
Swearing that straight he would have his life.
There was no help near; so I took out my purse,
Which he snatched from my hand, and all that I had;
It was not much, and that made him curse,
And vow that the coins were false and bad.
Which he snatched from my hand, and all that I had;
It was not much, and that made him curse,
And vow that the coins were false and bad.
What should we do now, robbed of our all?
We could not beg, and we would not steal;
We were among strangers, children small,
And I hardly could either think or feel.
We could not beg, and we would not steal;
We were among strangers, children small,
And I hardly could either think or feel.
All through the night I lay awake,
And tossed on the sun-baked hardened sod;
And prayed though it seemed as my heart would break,
And I got no farther than just “O God!”
And tossed on the sun-baked hardened sod;
And prayed though it seemed as my heart would break,
And I got no farther than just “O God!”
But suddenly came this thought to me, Lord,
When Thy disciples were walking with Thee
Through cornfields, hearkening to Thy word,
And they were an-hungered too, as we,
When Thy disciples were walking with Thee
Through cornfields, hearkening to Thy word,
And they were an-hungered too, as we,
They plucked the ears of corn, and ate,
And Thou didst never their act forbid;
And may not we now, in like sore strait
Do as Thy servants that day did?
And Thou didst never their act forbid;
And may not we now, in like sore strait
Do as Thy servants that day did?
That gave me light then, and as we walked
By the great fields of yellow corn,
We munched the milky groats, and talked
Good words, for it was the Sabbath morn.
By the great fields of yellow corn,
We munched the milky groats, and talked
Good words, for it was the Sabbath morn.
584
I thought it right too that we should go
With others to worship God, and pray;
And it did us good, I am sure, although
We mostly slept in the kirk that day.
With others to worship God, and pray;
And it did us good, I am sure, although
We mostly slept in the kirk that day.
And ere had sunk that Sabbath sun
We came to Elgin town at last,
And now our pilgrimage was done,
And all our troubles were overpast.
We came to Elgin town at last,
And now our pilgrimage was done,
And all our troubles were overpast.
Auntie, it seemed, was known to all,
And they said I could not fail to find
Her house where it stood by the Cloister wall,
With the great Cathedral just behind.
And they said I could not fail to find
Her house where it stood by the Cloister wall,
With the great Cathedral just behind.
Humbly I knocked at the big oak door,
For it was a stately house to see,
And I, in my fear, did tremble sore
Lest she might be ashamed of me.
For it was a stately house to see,
And I, in my fear, did tremble sore
Lest she might be ashamed of me.
Not many minutes we had to wait,
And when she came to us, all I said
Was, “Auntie, this is Willie, and Kate
Died on the road, and mother is dead.”
And when she came to us, all I said
Was, “Auntie, this is Willie, and Kate
Died on the road, and mother is dead.”
Kinder greeting could none have had;
Willie she clasped to her bosom, and wept,
Partly sorrowful, partly glad,
Meanwhile my hand in her own she kept.
Willie she clasped to her bosom, and wept,
Partly sorrowful, partly glad,
Meanwhile my hand in her own she kept.
There was nothing too dainty for us to eat,
Nothing too handsome for us to wear,
With her own hands she washed our feet,
And tenderly combed our matted hair.
Nothing too handsome for us to wear,
With her own hands she washed our feet,
And tenderly combed our matted hair.
When I told her the tale of our pilgrimage,
And how the thief took our purse away,
She uttered some words in a holy rage
Mother would never have let me say.
And how the thief took our purse away,
She uttered some words in a holy rage
Mother would never have let me say.
Soon our troubles were all forgot,
Yet not our sorrows, for when I think
Of mother and Katie, my heart is hot,
And in the night-watch I have tears to drink.
Yet not our sorrows, for when I think
Of mother and Katie, my heart is hot,
And in the night-watch I have tears to drink.
We have all we could wish of meat and drink;
But oh for the mother's guiding hand,
And the little one's smile, which was like a blink
Of sunshine to me in a weary land!
But oh for the mother's guiding hand,
And the little one's smile, which was like a blink
Of sunshine to me in a weary land!
JOHN NAPIER OF MERCHISTON
Merchiston Tower stands, lone and apart,
On the high Borough moor, among elms and limes,
And lone and apart were the thoughts of his heart;
While the struggle was brewing, in kirk and in mart,
To mend the ills of the hapless times.
On the high Borough moor, among elms and limes,
And lone and apart were the thoughts of his heart;
While the struggle was brewing, in kirk and in mart,
To mend the ills of the hapless times.
Other his labours, and other his cares,
Other the ends that he sought to gain,
Other his dreams and his hopes than theirs
Who busied themselves with the State's affairs,
Or stood up for freedom with hand and brain.
Other the ends that he sought to gain,
Other his dreams and his hopes than theirs
Who busied themselves with the State's affairs,
Or stood up for freedom with hand and brain.
By a paper, writ over with ciphering neat,
The master sat in loose-flowing robes,
Unbonneted head, and slippered feet,
Eager to see his long labour complete,
In a chamber littered with books and globes.
The master sat in loose-flowing robes,
Unbonneted head, and slippered feet,
Eager to see his long labour complete,
In a chamber littered with books and globes.
585
Toil and trouble he never had spared,
But year after year had wrought at his theme,
Often been baffled, but never despaired,
Still had come back, and his errors repaired;
And now he was sure that it was not a dream.
But year after year had wrought at his theme,
Often been baffled, but never despaired,
Still had come back, and his errors repaired;
And now he was sure that it was not a dream.
His task was nigh finished; the end drew near,
As page after page he threw down on the floor,
A great pile of writing, where truth did appear
With every new scroll growing ever more clear,
Convincing the reason that doubted before.
As page after page he threw down on the floor,
A great pile of writing, where truth did appear
With every new scroll growing ever more clear,
Convincing the reason that doubted before.
With forehead deep-furrowed he wrote every word,
The strain was so hard, and he toiled till the sweat
That beaded his brow trickled down on his beard,
And the sound of his heavy, hard breathing was heard
Like the panting of athlete that struggles with Fate.
The strain was so hard, and he toiled till the sweat
That beaded his brow trickled down on his beard,
And the sound of his heavy, hard breathing was heard
Like the panting of athlete that struggles with Fate.
Then there came a glad light on his face, and his head
Was lifted up grandly and proudly the while,
“I have found it, and 'stablished it clearly,” he said,
The Law that God wrought by that day when He made
The stars in their courses, and measured their mile.
Was lifted up grandly and proudly the while,
“I have found it, and 'stablished it clearly,” he said,
The Law that God wrought by that day when He made
The stars in their courses, and measured their mile.
Hear what the Kirk says, and you might suppose
He has no other thoughts save about His own Name,
And the glory, befitting His greatness, which flows
From the saving or damning of souls, whom He chose
To show forth His grace or His wrath upon them.
He has no other thoughts save about His own Name,
And the glory, befitting His greatness, which flows
From the saving or damning of souls, whom He chose
To show forth His grace or His wrath upon them.
But many His thoughts are, all old and yet new—
Mathematic, mechanic, and chemic—and we,
In our brooding and searching to find out the True,
Do but glimpse, with long toil, what He perfectly knew
From the first, when He held the young world on His knee.
Mathematic, mechanic, and chemic—and we,
In our brooding and searching to find out the True,
Do but glimpse, with long toil, what He perfectly knew
From the first, when He held the young world on His knee.
Yea, many His thoughts are, and many His cares,
Not only for souls, but for dead, silent things,
Thoughts of number and form, of circles and squares,
Of the grass on the field, and the dews and the airs
And the salts that it lives on, and sweets that it brings.
Not only for souls, but for dead, silent things,
Thoughts of number and form, of circles and squares,
Of the grass on the field, and the dews and the airs
And the salts that it lives on, and sweets that it brings.
And one of His thoughts He has given me to find,
Never dreamt of before, and to follow it on
To results that enlarge and deliver the mind
From bonds that did hitherto fetter and bind
The pursuit of light that leads up to His throne.
Never dreamt of before, and to follow it on
To results that enlarge and deliver the mind
From bonds that did hitherto fetter and bind
The pursuit of light that leads up to His throne.
Lo! the fruit of long patience, hard thinking, and pains,
And science, by its means, shall range over space,
As easy as merchant can reckon his gains
Without failure or flaw to bewilder his brains,
Or uncertain shadow of doubt on his face.
And science, by its means, shall range over space,
586
Without failure or flaw to bewilder his brains,
Or uncertain shadow of doubt on his face.
How simple it looks, now the key has been found!
How hopeless and dark it looked often to me!
God's thoughts are as simple as they are profound,
Yet hard as the path over untravelled ground,
Till a way has been hewn which the simple can see.
How hopeless and dark it looked often to me!
God's thoughts are as simple as they are profound,
Yet hard as the path over untravelled ground,
Till a way has been hewn which the simple can see.
Hark! men are fighting where peace should have been,
Clashing their sword-blades, and shouting their cries;
If they but knew all the triumph serene
When a great Law of Nature is certainly seen,
And God's secret given to the patient and wise!
Clashing their sword-blades, and shouting their cries;
If they but knew all the triumph serene
When a great Law of Nature is certainly seen,
And God's secret given to the patient and wise!
What are the schemes which their poor lives devour?
What are the ends they're so eager to gain?
They do but strive to get honour and power,
And wield them in pride for a brief little hour—
This while the world lasts still shall remain.
What are the ends they're so eager to gain?
They do but strive to get honour and power,
And wield them in pride for a brief little hour—
This while the world lasts still shall remain.
Truth is the one power to loose or to bind,
Not to oppress, but to set the world free,
Power over Nature by masterful mind,
Power to enlarge the great thoughts of mankind,
And by obeying Law its Lords to be.
Not to oppress, but to set the world free,
Power over Nature by masterful mind,
Power to enlarge the great thoughts of mankind,
And by obeying Law its Lords to be.
LIVINGSTONE'S WOOING
I had gone to a friend for Communion week,
And when it was over my soul was sad,
For I felt that my heart had been cold and bad
For lack of the grace I had failed to seek.
And when it was over my soul was sad,
For I felt that my heart had been cold and bad
For lack of the grace I had failed to seek.
The folk did not see it, some even opined
That, with the live coal from the altar fired,
I had spoken at times like a man inspired,
But it was not the fire of a heavenly mind.
That, with the live coal from the altar fired,
I had spoken at times like a man inspired,
But it was not the fire of a heavenly mind.
For now it came home to me, clear as light,
I had sought but my own things, not the Lord's;
Had tickled men's ears with enticing words
That could not have helped any soul in the fight.
I had sought but my own things, not the Lord's;
Had tickled men's ears with enticing words
That could not have helped any soul in the fight.
Then a shadow of trouble came over my face,
And I doubted if ever I had a call
To the work I once thought that I loved more than all—
Proclaiming the riches of God's large grace.
And I doubted if ever I had a call
To the work I once thought that I loved more than all—
Proclaiming the riches of God's large grace.
My friend to cheer me then, said that he knew
My word that day had been greatly blessed,
For some had been quickened, and some had found rest,
And some had got comfort sure and true.
My word that day had been greatly blessed,
For some had been quickened, and some had found rest,
And some had got comfort sure and true.
587
Still the cloud lay on me, and I saw
My heart in its faithlessness clearly laid bare,
Vain and self-seeking; and dull despair
Seemed to be clutching me with its claw.
My heart in its faithlessness clearly laid bare,
Vain and self-seeking; and dull despair
Seemed to be clutching me with its claw.
Then said my friend—for he was a friend
In good and evil all through my life—
“John, what you want is a loving wife
To bring these thoughts to a whole-some end:
In good and evil all through my life—
“John, what you want is a loving wife
To bring these thoughts to a whole-some end:
“And there is May Fleming might take you in hand;
She is good and true, she is bright and kind,
Of a cheerful temper, and pious mind,
And she's beautiful too as the Promised land.”
She is good and true, she is bright and kind,
Of a cheerful temper, and pious mind,
And she's beautiful too as the Promised land.”
I knew of old he was fond of his jest;
But surely that was a flippant word
To a man who was wrestling for the Lord
With the powers of darkness in his breast.
But surely that was a flippant word
To a man who was wrestling for the Lord
With the powers of darkness in his breast.
Therefore I rose up, and silently
Went to my chamber and to my knees,
For I knew there was nothing like prayer to ease
The load that was lying so heavy on me.
Went to my chamber and to my knees,
For I knew there was nothing like prayer to ease
The load that was lying so heavy on me.
But still that speech of his rang in my head;
And all through my pleadings and groans and cries
May's face rose, smiling, before mine eyes,
And I wandered in prayer, and dreamed instead.
And all through my pleadings and groans and cries
May's face rose, smiling, before mine eyes,
And I wandered in prayer, and dreamed instead.
I never had thought of life yet in that way,
But only of making my calling sure,
And getting my heart more clean and pure—
A task that seemed heavier every day.
But only of making my calling sure,
And getting my heart more clean and pure—
A task that seemed heavier every day.
And I never had thought of May Fleming that way,
Though I often had noted her upturned face
As she drank in humbly the word of grace,
Or folded her little white hands to pray.
Though I often had noted her upturned face
As she drank in humbly the word of grace,
Or folded her little white hands to pray.
Yet she had been to me but a lamb of the flock
Whom I strove to lead, in the narrow way,
To the pastures green that are found alway
By the river that flows from the stricken Rock.
Whom I strove to lead, in the narrow way,
To the pastures green that are found alway
By the river that flows from the stricken Rock.
And a faithless shepherd I needs must be
If I led her now to myself, not Him,
And kindled a human love, poor and dim,
For the love divine I had longed to see.
If I led her now to myself, not Him,
And kindled a human love, poor and dim,
For the love divine I had longed to see.
That made me surer than ever before
That I was not fit for the Master's work;
For my soul was tossed, like a helpless cork,
And drifted on to a barren shore.
That I was not fit for the Master's work;
For my soul was tossed, like a helpless cork,
And drifted on to a barren shore.
Then I went in grief to my friend, and said,
“You have put a temptation in my way;
When I turn to my books, or try to pray,
May Fleming I cannot get out of my head.”
“You have put a temptation in my way;
When I turn to my books, or try to pray,
May Fleming I cannot get out of my head.”
588
But he only laughed, and answered, “Well,
Let her come down from your head to your heart,
And make her home there, and never depart;
You will preach all the better when you can tell
Let her come down from your head to your heart,
And make her home there, and never depart;
You will preach all the better when you can tell
“Of love that unifies man and wife,
Love that is faithful, meek, and true,
Singing a song that is ever new,
Love that is more to you even than life;
Love that is faithful, meek, and true,
Singing a song that is ever new,
Love that is more to you even than life;
“For you'll have in your soul the master-key
To open treasures of Love divine,
And draw for your people the mystic wine
That will cheer them, when days of darkness be.”
To open treasures of Love divine,
And draw for your people the mystic wine
That will cheer them, when days of darkness be.”
I was not satisfied; yet I know
After that I was more at peace;
The strife in my soul did partly cease,
For the seed he had sown began to grow.
After that I was more at peace;
The strife in my soul did partly cease,
For the seed he had sown began to grow.
Not that I loved her yet as one
Should love the maid that shall be his bride;
But like my shadow she kept at my side
All through the hours, till the day was done.
Should love the maid that shall be his bride;
But like my shadow she kept at my side
All through the hours, till the day was done.
I saw her face as I read my books,
Even in the darkness it was there
Looking ever so sweet and fair,
And I heard her voice in the winds and brooks.
Even in the darkness it was there
Looking ever so sweet and fair,
And I heard her voice in the winds and brooks.
What could it all mean? what should I do?
I could not study, I scarce could pray,
And I felt each Sabbath, my heart to-day
Was not in my work, and my people knew.
I could not study, I scarce could pray,
And I felt each Sabbath, my heart to-day
Was not in my work, and my people knew.
I must give up the task that I did so ill,
Must put out the light that would lead astray;
For I had no rest by night or day,
But went on dreaming about her still.
Must put out the light that would lead astray;
For I had no rest by night or day,
But went on dreaming about her still.
Once my thoughts had been all of Him
Who bore the cross for His chosen folk;
But now to the sorrowful truth I woke
That the faith I once lived by had all grown dim.
Who bore the cross for His chosen folk;
But now to the sorrowful truth I woke
That the faith I once lived by had all grown dim.
But one day I met her on the high road,
All by herself, and stepping free;
My text for next Sabbath was working in me,
And I felt it then as a heavy load.
All by herself, and stepping free;
My text for next Sabbath was working in me,
And I felt it then as a heavy load.
I told her my trouble, and she threw out
Modestly only a hint, a thought,
But it suggested much, and brought
Clearness to me instead of doubt.
Modestly only a hint, a thought,
But it suggested much, and brought
Clearness to me instead of doubt.
Surely that impulse God had given,
Which made me disburden my mind to one
So able to make the dry well run,
Free and full, with the grace of Heaven.
Which made me disburden my mind to one
So able to make the dry well run,
Free and full, with the grace of Heaven.
That sermon was something fresh and new,
And shone with a light I had never before,
I seemed to get to the very core,
And searched the mystery through and through.
And shone with a light I had never before,
I seemed to get to the very core,
And searched the mystery through and through.
Therefore I went to her mother, and told
What May had done for my work that day,
And the hope it begot in me, that they
Would not reckon my love to be over-bold.
What May had done for my work that day,
And the hope it begot in me, that they
Would not reckon my love to be over-bold.
589
It was not marriage-love yet, nor did
I get that till days and weeks were passed,
And only by prayer it came at last,
But it burned like a fire then, and would not be hid.
I get that till days and weeks were passed,
And only by prayer it came at last,
But it burned like a fire then, and would not be hid.
I had much ado to moderate it,
To keep it from taking the Master's place,
With the light of her love for the light of His face,
Though I tried to keep it in measure fit.
To keep it from taking the Master's place,
With the light of her love for the light of His face,
Though I tried to keep it in measure fit.
And of all God's gifts to me, truly the best,
Save only the Spirit of grace and truth,
Was the wife that he gave to my troubled youth,
And the home that she made me of peace and rest.
Save only the Spirit of grace and truth,
Was the wife that he gave to my troubled youth,
And the home that she made me of peace and rest.
WARRISTON AND THE SIGNING OF THE COVENANT
Enough for me to have lived to see
This glorious day, and its godly work,
When our nobles have buried their ancient feuds,
And our merchants have left their gains and goods
To sign our bond in the Greyfriars' Kirk.
This glorious day, and its godly work,
When our nobles have buried their ancient feuds,
And our merchants have left their gains and goods
To sign our bond in the Greyfriars' Kirk.
Truly my heart leaped up in me, while
Douglas and Hamilton, Athole and Mar,
Pressed on the heels of Montrose and Argyll,
And Lindsay and Lauderdale walked down the aisle
With Kennedy, Cunningham, Scott, and Carr.
Douglas and Hamilton, Athole and Mar,
Pressed on the heels of Montrose and Argyll,
And Lindsay and Lauderdale walked down the aisle
With Kennedy, Cunningham, Scott, and Carr.
Of all our Houses of ancient fame
Only the Gordons held them back;
Hume and Maxwell and Elliot came,
And Stewart and Bruce would have deemed it shame
If men of the Royal blood were slack.
Only the Gordons held them back;
Hume and Maxwell and Elliot came,
And Stewart and Bruce would have deemed it shame
If men of the Royal blood were slack.
Few of the Chiefs of the clans were there;
Clanronald, Macdonald, the Chisholm, Locheil,
All lay close 'mong their mountains bare;
But they count not for much in a State affair,
Unless there be cattle to raid and steal.
Clanronald, Macdonald, the Chisholm, Locheil,
All lay close 'mong their mountains bare;
But they count not for much in a State affair,
Unless there be cattle to raid and steal.
Mackintosh sat by the fire and drank,
Cluny was busy about his game,
Seaforth was playing the Lewsmen a prank,
And all of them truly were papists rank,
While hardly one could have signed his name.
Cluny was busy about his game,
Seaforth was playing the Lewsmen a prank,
And all of them truly were papists rank,
While hardly one could have signed his name.
We looked not for them, and little was lost
That they were not there, for they always bring
Quarrels with them as they brag and boast,
And dirks too are drawn, and swords are crossed,
And tongues that babbled begin to sting.
That they were not there, for they always bring
Quarrels with them as they brag and boast,
And dirks too are drawn, and swords are crossed,
And tongues that babbled begin to sting.
There was not room in the kirk for more
Than a tithe of those who were fain to write;
So they spread the sheets on the gravestones hoar,
All the way out to the kirkyard door,
And many who signed there wept outright.
Than a tithe of those who were fain to write;
So they spread the sheets on the gravestones hoar,
All the way out to the kirkyard door,
And many who signed there wept outright.
590
Oh what a sight it was, all the land,
Gentle and simple, humble and high,
Setting their seal to our Covenant band,
That vowed the people, with heart and hand,
To stand by the Cause and the Kirk, or die.
Gentle and simple, humble and high,
Setting their seal to our Covenant band,
That vowed the people, with heart and hand,
To stand by the Cause and the Kirk, or die.
I pricked my finger, and dipped the pen
In a drop of my own heart's blood to write:
It was but a drop, but it pledged me then
That every drop in each throbbing vein
Should freely be given to win the fight.
In a drop of my own heart's blood to write:
It was but a drop, but it pledged me then
That every drop in each throbbing vein
Should freely be given to win the fight.
Of course, I know there were not a few
Who felt no glow of our patriot fire,
Who cared not for freedom or truth or right,
But loved the darkness, and shunned the light,
For the lust of gain was their one desire.
Who felt no glow of our patriot fire,
Who cared not for freedom or truth or right,
But loved the darkness, and shunned the light,
For the lust of gain was their one desire.
Stoutly they clave, like the maw of the grave,
To the wealth of the Monks, and the Bishop's lands,
And all the pillage that did avenge
The ills of the past with ills as strange,
When they plundered the Kirk as they broke her bands.
To the wealth of the Monks, and the Bishop's lands,
And all the pillage that did avenge
The ills of the past with ills as strange,
When they plundered the Kirk as they broke her bands.
All they heeded was wealth of gain,
All they dreaded was loss of gear;
But their swords are good if their hearts are vain,
And we'll need them all in the stress and strain
That will try our mettle this coming year.
All they dreaded was loss of gear;
But their swords are good if their hearts are vain,
And we'll need them all in the stress and strain
That will try our mettle this coming year.
God grant that they may stand fast that day;
But some are ambitious, and some are proud,
And some are fain just to get their own way;
And there may be a Judas. Who can say
What kind of folk may be hid in a crowd?
But some are ambitious, and some are proud,
And some are fain just to get their own way;
And there may be a Judas. Who can say
What kind of folk may be hid in a crowd?
Is it right to join hands with them, in view
Of their alien mind. Were not Gideon's band,
The gallant three hundred, staunch and true,
Better by far than a motley crew
Who care for nought but the teind and land?
Of their alien mind. Were not Gideon's band,
The gallant three hundred, staunch and true,
Better by far than a motley crew
Who care for nought but the teind and land?
Some of God's servants will have it so,
For they say He can save by many or few,
And they blame me as one who is fain to go,
By worldly policy. Yet I know
We shall need every man to carry it through.
For they say He can save by many or few,
And they blame me as one who is fain to go,
By worldly policy. Yet I know
We shall need every man to carry it through.
But the people are stirred, for they all have heard
Of the quarrel 'twixt King and Parliament,
And their hearts are hot, and they will not yield
To Charles or Laud, till, on stricken field,
One side or other its force has spent.
Of the quarrel 'twixt King and Parliament,
And their hearts are hot, and they will not yield
To Charles or Laud, till, on stricken field,
One side or other its force has spent.
I am no soldier, and I shrink
From battle and blood as things abhorred;
Yet now that we stand on the deadly brink,
No more may I counsel peace, but think
Of the Kirk and its only King and Lord.
From battle and blood as things abhorred;
Yet now that we stand on the deadly brink,
No more may I counsel peace, but think
Of the Kirk and its only King and Lord.
591
Where the Spirit of God is, men are free;
Where the spirit of truth is, men are strong;
And strong and free shall our country be
When the storm is past, which we plainly see,
Laden with thunder, now trooping along.
Where the spirit of truth is, men are strong;
And strong and free shall our country be
When the storm is past, which we plainly see,
Laden with thunder, now trooping along.
GASK AND MONTROSE
I was with the great Montrose
All through his grand campaigns,
When he swept o'er the hills and the snows,
With the wild curlews and the crows,
And the winds and the clouds and the rains.
All through his grand campaigns,
When he swept o'er the hills and the snows,
With the wild curlews and the crows,
And the winds and the clouds and the rains.
Was never a leader like him
To know what his lads could do;
There were rivers and lakes to swim,
And moors where the mists lay dim,
But he burst on the foe ere they knew.
To know what his lads could do;
There were rivers and lakes to swim,
And moors where the mists lay dim,
But he burst on the foe ere they knew.
We were neighbours of old in Strathearn,
And I joined him before Tippermuir,
Marched close by his side up to Nairn,
And fought by his side at Auldearn,
Where the Whigs of our ruin made sure.
And I joined him before Tippermuir,
Marched close by his side up to Nairn,
And fought by his side at Auldearn,
Where the Whigs of our ruin made sure.
And oh how we raided Argyll,
Till the Campbells had hardly a roof
Or shieling, for mile after mile,
And we drove off their cattle the while,
And left scarce a horn or a hoof.
Till the Campbells had hardly a roof
Or shieling, for mile after mile,
And we drove off their cattle the while,
And left scarce a horn or a hoof.
They'll not soon forget how our men
Then harried their clachans and byres;
There was wailing in every green glen,
And burning on every high Ben,
But laughter at our watchfires.
Then harried their clachans and byres;
There was wailing in every green glen,
And burning on every high Ben,
But laughter at our watchfires.
When we marched through a blinding snowstorm
To Inverlochy, Argyll
Lay down on his ship, like a worm,
But our gallant young leader's brave form
Ever marched in our front with a smile.
To Inverlochy, Argyll
Lay down on his ship, like a worm,
But our gallant young leader's brave form
Ever marched in our front with a smile.
As they spied us, they faced right about,
But our claymores were thirsting for blood,
And we rushed on their ranks with a shout,
And broke them in stark, utter rout,
And drank the red stream like a flood.
But our claymores were thirsting for blood,
And we rushed on their ranks with a shout,
And broke them in stark, utter rout,
And drank the red stream like a flood.
We spoiled the fat burghers of Perth,
And if checked just for once at Dundee,
At Kilsyth their dead covered the earth,
Like swathes, when the reapers with mirth
Lay the ripe corn low on the lea.
And if checked just for once at Dundee,
At Kilsyth their dead covered the earth,
Like swathes, when the reapers with mirth
Lay the ripe corn low on the lea.
Oh the spoil that we gathered that day
When our banner waved o'er Aberdeen!
Though our forces then melted away,
As they started for home with their prey,
And our musters next morning were lean.
When our banner waved o'er Aberdeen!
Though our forces then melted away,
As they started for home with their prey,
And our musters next morning were lean.
That was the worst of the job;
War with them was a foray for gain,
The foe was scarce more than a mob,
Whom they hasted to kill and to rob,
And be off with their plunder again.
War with them was a foray for gain,
The foe was scarce more than a mob,
Whom they hasted to kill and to rob,
And be off with their plunder again.
I was young, and I did not much care,
So long as the sword did not sleep,
Though they trooped off with all kinds of ware,
Pots and pans and cloth-webs, like a fair,
And droves of fat cattle and sheep.
So long as the sword did not sleep,
Though they trooped off with all kinds of ware,
Pots and pans and cloth-webs, like a fair,
And droves of fat cattle and sheep.
592
The Highlands were swarming with men,
All idle, and keen for a fight,
And for one that dropt off there were ten
To fill up our thinning ranks, when
The Whigs once again were in sight.
All idle, and keen for a fight,
And for one that dropt off there were ten
To fill up our thinning ranks, when
The Whigs once again were in sight.
Yet doubtless our leader must feel,
When his army was melting away;
It was hard to know how best to deal
With fellows more eager to steal
Than to stand by the flag and obey.
When his army was melting away;
It was hard to know how best to deal
With fellows more eager to steal
Than to stand by the flag and obey.
But I had not the care of command,
All I wanted was just a good fight,
And of course to bring back to the land
The rule of the king, and to stand
By the Church and Episcopal right.
All I wanted was just a good fight,
And of course to bring back to the land
The rule of the king, and to stand
By the Church and Episcopal right.
I was never so cheerful and gay,
Though some of my comrades had dropt,
For I thought we had played out the play,
And the Whigamores, losing the day,
Their wicked devices had stopped.
Though some of my comrades had dropt,
For I thought we had played out the play,
And the Whigamores, losing the day,
Their wicked devices had stopped.
So one night, the moon shining clear
On the Tweed, where I stood with Montrose,
I said, “What a glorious year!
We have scattered the rogues far and near,
And we'll have back the king, ere he knows.
On the Tweed, where I stood with Montrose,
I said, “What a glorious year!
We have scattered the rogues far and near,
And we'll have back the king, ere he knows.
“In the land of his fathers, at least,
He shall have his own once more
In spite of the Presbyter Priest,
And the new-fangled Puritan yeast
That swells in their hearts at the core.”
He shall have his own once more
In spite of the Presbyter Priest,
And the new-fangled Puritan yeast
That swells in their hearts at the core.”
But he looked very sad, and he sighed,
“We have poured out rivers of blood,
And beaten them—yes,” he replied,
“But we've not gained a man to our side;
'Tis like thrashing the tide at its flood.
“We have poured out rivers of blood,
And beaten them—yes,” he replied,
“But we've not gained a man to our side;
'Tis like thrashing the tide at its flood.
“We have swept o'er the land, and the shock
Has filled them with fear and unrest;
No longer they flout us and mock,
Yet I know that the bulk of the folk
Hate the sight of a kilt like the pest.
Has filled them with fear and unrest;
No longer they flout us and mock,
Yet I know that the bulk of the folk
Hate the sight of a kilt like the pest.
“For the king our lads care not a jot;
Their king is the chief of the clan;
Not once for the Cause have they fought,
But only to better their lot,
Or avenge an old feud when they can.
Their king is the chief of the clan;
Not once for the Cause have they fought,
But only to better their lot,
Or avenge an old feud when they can.
“No more for the Church do they heed,
For order or worship or rite;
Perhaps for the Pope and his creed
They might take to the sword, but they need
No faith as a plea for a fight.
For order or worship or rite;
Perhaps for the Pope and his creed
They might take to the sword, but they need
No faith as a plea for a fight.
“I am weary of half-savage men
Who seek but some gain to the tribes;
And the Whigs have been beaten in vain,
Ere long they will bind us again
By the parchments and quirks of their scribes.
Who seek but some gain to the tribes;
And the Whigs have been beaten in vain,
Ere long they will bind us again
By the parchments and quirks of their scribes.
“And I'm weary of these civil wars,
And the desolate homes they have made,
And the wide waste fields, and the scars
That are aching under the stars,
And the widows bewailing their dead.
And the desolate homes they have made,
And the wide waste fields, and the scars
That are aching under the stars,
And the widows bewailing their dead.
593
“After all men have said, too, and sung,
Civil war brings its bitter remorse,
When you hear your own dear mother-tongue
Appealing for mercy among
The hoofs of your iron-shod horse.”
Civil war brings its bitter remorse,
When you hear your own dear mother-tongue
Appealing for mercy among
The hoofs of your iron-shod horse.”
And that was the man, who, they said,
Cared only for battle and strife,
And to look on the dying and dead,
And who reckoned the blood he had shed
The glory and joy of his life.
Cared only for battle and strife,
And to look on the dying and dead,
And who reckoned the blood he had shed
The glory and joy of his life.
THE SECTARY
Corporal Hogswash of Grimsby,
One of “The Brazen wall,”
Could fight and exhort,
Réposte and retort
With the Word, or the sword, or a ball;
He was equally handy with all.
One of “The Brazen wall,”
Could fight and exhort,
Réposte and retort
With the Word, or the sword, or a ball;
He was equally handy with all.
He was fain to lord it supreme
O'er the weavers and cottars of Fife,
As he led on his troop,
With a halloo and whoop,
Ever foremost in fray and in strife,
And kept folk in fear of their life.
O'er the weavers and cottars of Fife,
As he led on his troop,
With a halloo and whoop,
Ever foremost in fray and in strife,
And kept folk in fear of their life.
One day, in the kirk, he sat down
On the stool of repentance, for choice,
With a laugh and a wink—
Sign of shrewd morning drink—
And his soul it did greatly rejoice,
In this manner, to lift up his voice.
On the stool of repentance, for choice,
With a laugh and a wink—
Sign of shrewd morning drink—
And his soul it did greatly rejoice,
In this manner, to lift up his voice.
He called himself “Seeker” or “Waiter,”
Though he ne'er stayed to listen or learn;
And loudly he swore
At the open kirk-door
That sinners should now have their turn,
Whose hearts in them hotly did burn.
Though he ne'er stayed to listen or learn;
And loudly he swore
At the open kirk-door
That sinners should now have their turn,
Whose hearts in them hotly did burn.
“Lo! you now, up there in the box,
Sir Presbyter Priest,” he began,
“We poor sinful folk,
The black sheep of the flock,
Will hear your rebuke, as we can,
If you will but hit fair, like a man.
Sir Presbyter Priest,” he began,
“We poor sinful folk,
The black sheep of the flock,
Will hear your rebuke, as we can,
If you will but hit fair, like a man.
“I am ready our sins to confess,
Mostly sins of the flesh, I admit;
We are given to strong liquors
In flagons or beakers,
And to handsome young maids that are fit
On the knee of a soldier to sit.
Mostly sins of the flesh, I admit;
We are given to strong liquors
In flagons or beakers,
And to handsome young maids that are fit
On the knee of a soldier to sit.
“That's the worst can be said about us,
And for that you have set up this stool,
And ring your cracked bell,
And stand there and tell
Of your Kirk, and its good godly rule,
And Tophet ordained for the fool.
And for that you have set up this stool,
And ring your cracked bell,
And stand there and tell
Of your Kirk, and its good godly rule,
And Tophet ordained for the fool.
“Now, spare not; his seat likes me well;
But when you have spoken your word,
I have somewhat to say,
In my own homely way,
To you who are serving the Lord
With your sins, which He ever abhorred.
But when you have spoken your word,
I have somewhat to say,
In my own homely way,
To you who are serving the Lord
With your sins, which He ever abhorred.
“Oh, you're silent, are you, to-day?
You leave all the talking to me:
Very well, I am ready;
You just stand up there steady,
My dear, erring brother, and see
What other folk know you to be.
You leave all the talking to me:
Very well, I am ready;
You just stand up there steady,
My dear, erring brother, and see
What other folk know you to be.
“What of your envy and pride,
Hypocrisy, lies, and deceit,
Your high Sabbath-keeping,
With the shepherds all sleeping,
And the wolf at the door, and the feet
That are swift to shed blood in the street?
Hypocrisy, lies, and deceit,
Your high Sabbath-keeping,
With the shepherds all sleeping,
And the wolf at the door, and the feet
That are swift to shed blood in the street?
594
“Lo! the violence, strife, and
Contention; (See Habakkuk, 1st and 3rd),
Your nest may be high,
But the stone shall cry
From the wall, and its voice shall be heard,
Like the hoot of an ill-omened bird.
Contention; (See Habakkuk, 1st and 3rd),
Your nest may be high,
But the stone shall cry
From the wall, and its voice shall be heard,
Like the hoot of an ill-omened bird.
“I sit on the Penitent's stool,
Where many poor souls have been shamed
With heads bowed like willows
For small peccadilloes;
Meanwhile your worse vices, untamed,
Have thriven unrebuked and unblamed.
Where many poor souls have been shamed
With heads bowed like willows
For small peccadilloes;
Meanwhile your worse vices, untamed,
Have thriven unrebuked and unblamed.
“Yea, I sit on the Penitent's stool,
Though 'tis fitter for you than for me;
Go build up a creed,
Not of word, but of deed,
And meanwhile come down here, and be
Rebuked by the sinful and free.
Though 'tis fitter for you than for me;
Go build up a creed,
Not of word, but of deed,
And meanwhile come down here, and be
Rebuked by the sinful and free.
“We have broken the yoke of the King,
We have cast off the bonds of the Pope,
And we will not submit
To the rein and the bit
Of the Presbyter Priestlings, that hope
With Noll and his army to cope.
We have cast off the bonds of the Pope,
And we will not submit
To the rein and the bit
Of the Presbyter Priestlings, that hope
With Noll and his army to cope.
“For the work we have done God has sealed
With victory everywhere
In great feats of war;
As late at Dunbar,
So at Worcester His arm was laid bare,
In the great crowning mercy wrought there.
With victory everywhere
In great feats of war;
As late at Dunbar,
So at Worcester His arm was laid bare,
In the great crowning mercy wrought there.
“And we're free from the bondage of Law,
For the Spirit has made us free;
The Command is not meant
For the latter-day saint,
But for those who will still bend the knee
Where the Priest and the steeplehouse be.”
For the Spirit has made us free;
The Command is not meant
For the latter-day saint,
But for those who will still bend the knee
Where the Priest and the steeplehouse be.”
Then he strode up the high pulpit stair,
While the minister said with a groan,
“Ho! my people depart
With God's peace in your heart;
For bread he will give you a stone,
Let him do his blaspheming alone.”
While the minister said with a groan,
“Ho! my people depart
With God's peace in your heart;
For bread he will give you a stone,
Let him do his blaspheming alone.”
The flock with mixed feelings were stirred,
Some groaned, and some laughed, and some wept,
Some loudly shouted,
Some mocked and flouted,
But the more part silence kept,
And sorrowful homeward crept.
Some groaned, and some laughed, and some wept,
Some loudly shouted,
Some mocked and flouted,
But the more part silence kept,
And sorrowful homeward crept.
The Corporal preached for an hour
About Oliver's power and trust,
About vials and trumps,
And Parliament rumps,
And the sword of the Lord, and its rust,
Till his throat was as dry as March dust.
About Oliver's power and trust,
About vials and trumps,
And Parliament rumps,
And the sword of the Lord, and its rust,
Till his throat was as dry as March dust.
BURLEIGH ON MAGUS MOOR
The turncoat! the traitor!
We sent him to London to plead our cause,
And our Covenant band with the Allcreator,
And the rights that are ours by our ancient laws,
And lo! he comes back with a mitred head,
False to all he had sworn and said.
We sent him to London to plead our cause,
And our Covenant band with the Allcreator,
And the rights that are ours by our ancient laws,
And lo! he comes back with a mitred head,
False to all he had sworn and said.
595
My Lord, the Archbishop!
That's how they usher his Grace now in,
For our clerical cooks are fain to dish up
The Pope's old orders of pride and sin.
No doubt, he will be Cardinal soon—
Cardinal Judas! the crafty loon!
That's how they usher his Grace now in,
For our clerical cooks are fain to dish up
The Pope's old orders of pride and sin.
No doubt, he will be Cardinal soon—
Cardinal Judas! the crafty loon!
Oh, he was to have brought us
Times of peace from a gracious King;
Only trust him, so he besought us,
And we should have grateful songs to sing
For a quiet land, and a faithful Kirk
Cheerfully doing its Master's work.
Times of peace from a gracious King;
Only trust him, so he besought us,
And we should have grateful songs to sing
For a quiet land, and a faithful Kirk
Cheerfully doing its Master's work.
But our troubles and sorrows
Are harder than ever they were before,
And dark as to-day's are, darker to-morrow's,
With lies in the air, and spies at the door;
For the boot and the thumbkin and the rack
Are all that his graceless Grace brought back.
Are harder than ever they were before,
And dark as to-day's are, darker to-morrow's,
With lies in the air, and spies at the door;
For the boot and the thumbkin and the rack
Are all that his graceless Grace brought back.
It is fine and prison
If we meet on a moor to hear the truth,
Braving the blasts of a stormy season
Rather than prophets that prophesy smooth;
And it is a gibbet, if we withstand
A cornet of horse and his swearing band.
If we meet on a moor to hear the truth,
Braving the blasts of a stormy season
Rather than prophets that prophesy smooth;
And it is a gibbet, if we withstand
A cornet of horse and his swearing band.
We have loved freedom,
And for its sake have fought and bled,
Faced proud armies, and did not heed them,
Holding our own among dying and dead;
And now shall we tamely cower before
Lawyers and Priests that scourge us sore?
And for its sake have fought and bled,
Faced proud armies, and did not heed them,
Holding our own among dying and dead;
And now shall we tamely cower before
Lawyers and Priests that scourge us sore?
List! Rathillet,
Hear you his Lordship's six-horsed coach
Bearing him on to his well-earned billet,
With an out-runner heralding his approach—
Strange are the ways of heaven and grim,
For we did not come here to ambush him.
Hear you his Lordship's six-horsed coach
Bearing him on to his well-earned billet,
With an out-runner heralding his approach—
Strange are the ways of heaven and grim,
For we did not come here to ambush him.
It was for another
We waited, one of his hateful tools,
Who tries all the arts of hell to smother
The truth in Fife, where he sits and rules
With the boot for our bones, and a rope for our breath,
In the name of this high Arch-priest of death.
We waited, one of his hateful tools,
Who tries all the arts of hell to smother
The truth in Fife, where he sits and rules
With the boot for our bones, and a rope for our breath,
In the name of this high Arch-priest of death.
The Lord hath delivered
The traitor into our hand this day,
And he who is slack at the work hath severed
Himself from the cause, for which good men pray—
You've a private quarrel, Rathillet, I know,
But you'll stand by our deed, though you deal not a blow.
The traitor into our hand this day,
And he who is slack at the work hath severed
Himself from the cause, for which good men pray—
You've a private quarrel, Rathillet, I know,
But you'll stand by our deed, though you deal not a blow.
So we grouped on the moorland,
Pledged and sworn to the fell, stern deed,
And smote the old man with a swift and sure hand,
And saw the gashed wounds on him gape and bleed—
'Twas a public work, and every one there
Had to thrust in his weapon, and take his share.
Pledged and sworn to the fell, stern deed,
And smote the old man with a swift and sure hand,
And saw the gashed wounds on him gape and bleed—
'Twas a public work, and every one there
Had to thrust in his weapon, and take his share.
596
ERICSTANE BRAE
We had gathered that night for prayer
On the hill above Clyde-burn head,
When a whisper went round, as we came to the ground,
That our Leader and Preacher was dead.
On the hill above Clyde-burn head,
When a whisper went round, as we came to the ground,
That our Leader and Preacher was dead.
The troopers had come on his track
As he sped down the bank of the Daur;
They were seen to follow, with whoop and halloo,
While he made for the Buckshead scaur.
As he sped down the bank of the Daur;
They were seen to follow, with whoop and halloo,
While he made for the Buckshead scaur.
Shots had soon after been heard,
And blood had been certainly spilt;
So we reckoned it plain that he had been slain,
And we doubted not whose was the guilt.
And blood had been certainly spilt;
So we reckoned it plain that he had been slain,
And we doubted not whose was the guilt.
Sad, then, and stricken at heart,
We were turning to hasten away,
When some one said, “If our leader is dead,
We have all the more need to pray.”
We were turning to hasten away,
When some one said, “If our leader is dead,
We have all the more need to pray.”
Unbonneted all of us stood,
Till we heard a whaup's shrill cry;—
We had posted men at the foot of the glen
To warn us if danger were nigh;
Till we heard a whaup's shrill cry;—
We had posted men at the foot of the glen
To warn us if danger were nigh;
And that was the signal agreed,
Which we heard now at Clyde-burn head,
And we held our breath, and were still as death,
Where we stood on the high watershed.
Which we heard now at Clyde-burn head,
And we held our breath, and were still as death,
Where we stood on the high watershed.
We could hear the beat of our hearts,
But by and by came a cheer,
And out of the mist a form uprist,
And our pastor himself drew near.
But by and by came a cheer,
And out of the mist a form uprist,
And our pastor himself drew near.
The gloaming had gathered grey,
And the light was fading fast,
So we did not see, at first, how he
Had changed since we saw him last.
And the light was fading fast,
So we did not see, at first, how he
Had changed since we saw him last.
For he had been a stalwart man,
Big both in body and limb,
And his simple dress, in its homeliness,
Had always been neat and trim.
Big both in body and limb,
And his simple dress, in its homeliness,
Had always been neat and trim.
Now broken he was and bent,
And his face was pale as death,
He was soiled with mud, and stained with blood,
And he gasped at each painful breath,
And his face was pale as death,
He was soiled with mud, and stained with blood,
And he gasped at each painful breath,
As he wearily dragged his feet
To the great grey stone on the hill,
Where he often had stood to do us good,
And to strengthen our heart and will.
To the great grey stone on the hill,
Where he often had stood to do us good,
And to strengthen our heart and will.
There for a moment he paused,
Girding himself to speak,
And the hearts of the crowd were wholly bowed
To see the strong man so weak.
Girding himself to speak,
And the hearts of the crowd were wholly bowed
To see the strong man so weak.
“My hours are numbered,” he said,
“But I hasted to send you home,
For they knew that to-night we should meet on the height
Where the Clyde-burn frets in foam.
“But I hasted to send you home,
For they knew that to-night we should meet on the height
Where the Clyde-burn frets in foam.
“Earlshall and his hard-riding troop
Saw me come down by the Daur,
And followed me close, o'er moor and moss,
And on by the Buckshead scaur.
Saw me come down by the Daur,
And followed me close, o'er moor and moss,
And on by the Buckshead scaur.
“They caught me at Elvan foot,
And horsed me there, hard and tight;
Without saddle or bridle I rode in the middle,
With a trooper to left and right.
And horsed me there, hard and tight;
Without saddle or bridle I rode in the middle,
With a trooper to left and right.
597
“Then they had a great drink at the inn,
Where a lad somewhat loosened my feet;
The ale had been strong, and with jest and song
They carelessly rode in the heat.
Where a lad somewhat loosened my feet;
The ale had been strong, and with jest and song
They carelessly rode in the heat.
“The day was muggy and warm,
And their brains were sodden with drink,
At Ericstane Brae they were no more gay,
But the wakefulest 'gan to wink.
And their brains were sodden with drink,
At Ericstane Brae they were no more gay,
But the wakefulest 'gan to wink.
“There I got my feet free of the rope,
Where the gully is sudden and deep;
It was half-full of mist, as I surely wist,
And its bank is stony and steep.
Where the gully is sudden and deep;
It was half-full of mist, as I surely wist,
And its bank is stony and steep.
“I thought I had gotten my chance,
And slipt from the back of my steed,
Crept under the man to my left, and ran
Right down the rough bank in hot speed.
And slipt from the back of my steed,
Crept under the man to my left, and ran
Right down the rough bank in hot speed.
“I heard them shout and swear,
For none of them minced their words;
With a sudden bound some leapt to the ground,
And hurriedly drew their swords.
For none of them minced their words;
With a sudden bound some leapt to the ground,
And hurriedly drew their swords.
“But some their carbines fired,
And one of them reached the mark,
Yet I ran on fast, till I got at last
Down into the mist and the dark,
And one of them reached the mark,
Yet I ran on fast, till I got at last
Down into the mist and the dark,
“And reached the Annan, but faint
With loss of blood and strength
From a wound that, I feel, will never heal,
For my hour is come at length.
With loss of blood and strength
From a wound that, I feel, will never heal,
For my hour is come at length.
“But I could not rest, until
I had brought a warning to you;
So I crawled up the hill, and crept on still,
Though weary and weak I grew.
I had brought a warning to you;
So I crawled up the hill, and crept on still,
Though weary and weak I grew.
“Now haste you, every one, home,
For I think they will soon be here;
And leave me alone by the big grey stone
Where I've preached to you often in fear.
For I think they will soon be here;
And leave me alone by the big grey stone
Where I've preached to you often in fear.
“God's will be done; I had hoped
To lead you in prayer this night,
But there's One who will pray for you night and day
To keep you true to the right.
To lead you in prayer this night,
But there's One who will pray for you night and day
To keep you true to the right.
“I leave you now in His hand,
Who never will leave His own;
Hold fast to the faith, and fear not death,
But think of the great white Throne.
Who never will leave His own;
Hold fast to the faith, and fear not death,
But think of the great white Throne.
“Away! every man to his home,
Let your sorrow for me now cease;
Alone with God, on this bit of green sod,
I shall yield my soul in peace.”
Let your sorrow for me now cease;
Alone with God, on this bit of green sod,
I shall yield my soul in peace.”
That was the last word he spake,
Straightway he fell down dead,
As we heard the beat of the horses' feet,
And silently scattered and fled.
Straightway he fell down dead,
As we heard the beat of the horses' feet,
And silently scattered and fled.
LADY DIANA
Well, yes, I was fond of him once I admit;
He was gallant, and courtly, and handsome, and big,
Had plenty of means, and was not without wit,
Till he took to mad ways, and became a rank Whig.
He was gallant, and courtly, and handsome, and big,
Had plenty of means, and was not without wit,
Till he took to mad ways, and became a rank Whig.
598
We were neighbours—my father and he—on the Ken,
And our forebears had hunted together, and fought,
Had always been staunch friends, and right-hearted men,
Who stood by the Church and the King, as they ought.
And our forebears had hunted together, and fought,
Had always been staunch friends, and right-hearted men,
Who stood by the Church and the King, as they ought.
They had backed up the Queen in her quarrel with Knox,
Had trampled the Covenant down in the mire,
Had followed Montrose o'er the Bens and the rocks,
And swore to King Charles, as they did to his sire.
Had trampled the Covenant down in the mire,
Had followed Montrose o'er the Bens and the rocks,
And swore to King Charles, as they did to his sire.
There was not a strain of the Whig in them all,
Their blood was untainted, their hearts were all true;
Horse and rider were ready to answer the call
When the King wanted friends and had fighting to do.
Their blood was untainted, their hearts were all true;
Horse and rider were ready to answer the call
When the King wanted friends and had fighting to do.
But he took to hill-preachers, and sat on the moss
When a Peden, Cargill, or a Cameron spoke
Of Christ's crown and kingdom and bearing a cross,
Though it was plain rebellion they tried to evoke.
When a Peden, Cargill, or a Cameron spoke
Of Christ's crown and kingdom and bearing a cross,
Though it was plain rebellion they tried to evoke.
He was warned by his friends, but he would not take heed,
He was fined o'er and o'er, but that troubled him not;
Not a man to be swayed, he, by fear or by greed,
He would stand, as he said, by the thing that he thought.
He was fined o'er and o'er, but that troubled him not;
Not a man to be swayed, he, by fear or by greed,
He would stand, as he said, by the thing that he thought.
Now, a girl might well fancy a man such as that,
Might deem him a hero, or hold him a saint—
A kind of small god, to be just wondered at,
And loved with a love which had no earthly taint.
Might deem him a hero, or hold him a saint—
A kind of small god, to be just wondered at,
And loved with a love which had no earthly taint.
I can scarce now believe I was e'er such a fool,
And I dare say my friends would to laughter be moved
At the thought that I ever could whimper and pule
For a psalm-singing Puritan rogue that I loved.
And I dare say my friends would to laughter be moved
At the thought that I ever could whimper and pule
For a psalm-singing Puritan rogue that I loved.
But I was in my teens, and I worshipped him then,
Though I wished that he were not a Whig, as they said;
For we were of the Old Church that bred saintly men,
And oft for its faith, too, our blood had been shed.
Though I wished that he were not a Whig, as they said;
For we were of the Old Church that bred saintly men,
And oft for its faith, too, our blood had been shed.
Of course, I stood by him, the more they opposed,
And the worse they spake of him, the better I thought;
I was not to be crushed, nor my mouth to be closed,
But all the day long for his honour I fought.
And the worse they spake of him, the better I thought;
I was not to be crushed, nor my mouth to be closed,
But all the day long for his honour I fought.
My father was wroth that I stuck so to him,
My mother was worse, and kept nagging me still,
My brothers looked at me with countenance grim,
Till I swore I'd turn Whig too, and take to the hill.
My mother was worse, and kept nagging me still,
My brothers looked at me with countenance grim,
Till I swore I'd turn Whig too, and take to the hill.
599
They were at their wits' end, for the house had no rest;
I held my own well, though at times I would gasp,
When my temper grew hot at some ill-mannered jest,
For I had a sharp tongue, and it stung like a wasp.
I held my own well, though at times I would gasp,
When my temper grew hot at some ill-mannered jest,
For I had a sharp tongue, and it stung like a wasp.
Then they sent me away to a Convent in France:
It was not a strict one; the Mother was gay,
And the Father Confessor was fond of a dance,
And we learnt to make love, like the girls in a play.
It was not a strict one; the Mother was gay,
And the Father Confessor was fond of a dance,
And we learnt to make love, like the girls in a play.
Our morals were nowise improved, I allow,
But then our religion was strict and severe;
We were taught when to kneel, and to cross, and to bow,
And we went to Confession six times in the year.
But then our religion was strict and severe;
We were taught when to kneel, and to cross, and to bow,
And we went to Confession six times in the year.
We counted our beads, and our Aves we said,
But meanwhile our thoughts were about the next ball;
We chaunted our Psalms were we lay down in bed
To watch our fine gallants come over the wall.
But meanwhile our thoughts were about the next ball;
We chaunted our Psalms were we lay down in bed
To watch our fine gallants come over the wall.
What would you? Young blood will not always run slow,
Young minds will rebel against dull, pious looks,
Young fingers will tire making laceflowers to grow,
And oh, how we hated the Nun's dismal looks.
Young minds will rebel against dull, pious looks,
Young fingers will tire making laceflowers to grow,
And oh, how we hated the Nun's dismal looks.
They were wise, then, to send me away, for ere long
I got rid of heroics about wrong and right,
And took to the dance and the lute and the song,
And thoughts that were cheerful, and ways that were light;
I got rid of heroics about wrong and right,
And took to the dance and the lute and the song,
And thoughts that were cheerful, and ways that were light;
And came back a woman; and woman is not
Like a girl in her teens that goes mooning about;
I knew the world now, with its cynical thought,
And I looked at its facts, and left sentiment out.
Like a girl in her teens that goes mooning about;
I knew the world now, with its cynical thought,
And I looked at its facts, and left sentiment out.
I said to myself: “I have had my love-fit,
And found it a day-dream, a fastfading flower,
A cloud which the sun for a moment hath lit
With glories, that end in a dull, drenching shower.
And found it a day-dream, a fastfading flower,
A cloud which the sun for a moment hath lit
With glories, that end in a dull, drenching shower.
“One must think of position and jewels and dress,
And comforts and pleasures, in choosing a mate;
And what can one look for but times of distress,
If her man is a fool, and will fight with the State?”
And comforts and pleasures, in choosing a mate;
And what can one look for but times of distress,
If her man is a fool, and will fight with the State?”
I knew what it was to be poor, and to pinch
And scrape just to keep things a-going, for we,
Though our acres were many, had hardly an inch
Of land that paid rent from the Ken to the Cree—
And scrape just to keep things a-going, for we,
Though our acres were many, had hardly an inch
Of land that paid rent from the Ken to the Cree—
600
All moorland, the haunt of the whaup and the grouse
And the falcon and fox—but our salmon was good—
And we had to keep up a great ark of a house,
Filled with idle retainers who clamoured for food.
And the falcon and fox—but our salmon was good—
And we had to keep up a great ark of a house,
Filled with idle retainers who clamoured for food.
He was richer than we, for his farms were well tilled,
His tenants all thrifty, his rents duly paid;
They were psalm-singing rogues, but yet steady, and skilled
To make of the land all that well could be made.
His tenants all thrifty, his rents duly paid;
They were psalm-singing rogues, but yet steady, and skilled
To make of the land all that well could be made.
But a Whig he must be, with a conscience forsooth!
Must go to hill-preachings the Law had forbid,
And must have a room where “The Witness for Truth,”
Whom the troopers were seeking, might safely be hid.
Must go to hill-preachings the Law had forbid,
And must have a room where “The Witness for Truth,”
Whom the troopers were seeking, might safely be hid.
It is true that we, too, had a chamber concealed,
Where the Priest lay, perdu, when fanatics held sway,
But it's one thing to preach to rude clowns in a field,
And another for lords at God's altar to pray.
Where the Priest lay, perdu, when fanatics held sway,
But it's one thing to preach to rude clowns in a field,
And another for lords at God's altar to pray.
I gave him my mind when I met him one day,
And he spake of old times; but the old times were dead;
He was still as he had been, and went the old way,
But for me I had quite other thoughts in my head.
And he spake of old times; but the old times were dead;
He was still as he had been, and went the old way,
But for me I had quite other thoughts in my head.
I was sorry, of course, but the truth must be told:
His Kirk was a schism, his faith was not mine,
And I could not approve of his purpose to hold
The Law in contempt, and the King's right divine.
His Kirk was a schism, his faith was not mine,
And I could not approve of his purpose to hold
The Law in contempt, and the King's right divine.
So we parted; on my part, with something of scorn
For a man who could wantonly shipwreck his life
For a cause that was lost, and a Kirk that was torn
In pieces by jealousy, envy, and strife.
For a man who could wantonly shipwreck his life
For a cause that was lost, and a Kirk that was torn
In pieces by jealousy, envy, and strife.
So the Sheriff, of course, had his duty to do;
They must pay for their preaching, and they found it dear,
When the troopers were quartered upon them, and slew
Their kine and their sheep, and ate up half their gear.
They must pay for their preaching, and they found it dear,
When the troopers were quartered upon them, and slew
Their kine and their sheep, and ate up half their gear.
They rose in rebellion, but speedily found
That claver'se made short work of them and their pikes;
I am told they fought well, but were borne to the ground
By our fellows who rode straight o'er hedges and dykes.
That claver'se made short work of them and their pikes;
I am told they fought well, but were borne to the ground
By our fellows who rode straight o'er hedges and dykes.
That's what he brought on himself by his pride,
And he brought it no less too on most of his folk,
Who were soon hunted out of the glens where they hide,
And who lie now securely in fetter and lock.
And he brought it no less too on most of his folk,
Who were soon hunted out of the glens where they hide,
And who lie now securely in fetter and lock.
601
'Tis a pity, no doubt, that so many were killed,
For they were our best farmers and workers all round;
When you came on a trim house, and fields nicely tilled,
You might know that a Whig held a lease of the ground.
For they were our best farmers and workers all round;
When you came on a trim house, and fields nicely tilled,
You might know that a Whig held a lease of the ground.
Our fellows are nearly all roystering loons,
Who take to the ale-cup more than the plough,
Carousing each night, singing Cavalier tunes,
Which they shout, till the birds wake upon the green bough.
Who take to the ale-cup more than the plough,
Carousing each night, singing Cavalier tunes,
Which they shout, till the birds wake upon the green bough.
The Whigs have their psalms and their sermons, but then
They are up with the sun for the tasks they must do;
They are all canting rogues, but I wish our brave men
Were as fond of their work, and as honest and true.
They are up with the sun for the tasks they must do;
They are all canting rogues, but I wish our brave men
Were as fond of their work, and as honest and true.
There's a batch of them waiting in gaol to be sold
To the Colony planters, all healthy and strong,
And worth a round sum to be paid there in gold,
Though here they are bargained for just an old song.
To the Colony planters, all healthy and strong,
And worth a round sum to be paid there in gold,
Though here they are bargained for just an old song.
I am told they will bring twenty guineas a head
Over there, and probably some of them more,
So I got at the Lady old Lauderdale wed,
And she gave me a grant of at least half a score.
Over there, and probably some of them more,
So I got at the Lady old Lauderdale wed,
And she gave me a grant of at least half a score.
Perhaps he is one of them? Be it so. He
Will be sold anyhow when the ship comes to port;
And why should not some of the price fall to me,
As well as to fine Lords and Ladies at Court?
Will be sold anyhow when the ship comes to port;
And why should not some of the price fall to me,
As well as to fine Lords and Ladies at Court?
There's Queensferry in for a slice of his land,
And Lagg will not rest till he shares with Dundee
What is over, unless Earlshall get his hand
On the fields which march nicely with his on the Cree.
And Lagg will not rest till he shares with Dundee
What is over, unless Earlshall get his hand
On the fields which march nicely with his on the Cree.
They take what they can, as my father does too,
And I'm poorer than they are, and needing it more:
My debts at the Tables are more than I knew,
And duns come and hammer each day at the door.
And I'm poorer than they are, and needing it more:
My debts at the Tables are more than I knew,
And duns come and hammer each day at the door.
This grant will be worth a two hundred, at least,
And will quiet their angry demands for a space;
And perhaps I may spare a small sum for the Priest,
To absolve from the sin, if sin be in the case.
And will quiet their angry demands for a space;
And perhaps I may spare a small sum for the Priest,
To absolve from the sin, if sin be in the case.
But there is not. I liked him, and so did they all,
But that does not hinder them doing their most
To get at the wreck, and to profit withal
When the ship of a fool has gone down, and been lost.
But that does not hinder them doing their most
To get at the wreck, and to profit withal
When the ship of a fool has gone down, and been lost.
602
I am doing quite right, then. And speaking of that,
Were it right to give up all this money to pay
Old debts, when I'm needing new frocks and a hat,
For it shamed me last night to be seen at the play?
Were it right to give up all this money to pay
Old debts, when I'm needing new frocks and a hat,
For it shamed me last night to be seen at the play?
My debts they can wait. I've a good mind to go
Up to London a while, and look in at the Mall,
And see the Court beauties and gallants, although
Where the beauty is found 'tis not easy to tell.
Up to London a while, and look in at the Mall,
And see the Court beauties and gallants, although
Where the beauty is found 'tis not easy to tell.
One must hope our good King has some politic wits,
But his taste in women astonishes me;
That Churchill might well give his Majesty fits,
Were it not that the others are worse even than she.
But his taste in women astonishes me;
That Churchill might well give his Majesty fits,
Were it not that the others are worse even than she.
GRIZEL BAILLIE
It was in “the Killing Times,” when consciences were crimes,
And over all the Merse were scattered troops of wild dragoons
Swaggering in the streets and squares, saucy, daring “deil-ma-cares,”
All in bravery of scarlet, and brawny handsome loons.
And over all the Merse were scattered troops of wild dragoons
Swaggering in the streets and squares, saucy, daring “deil-ma-cares,”
All in bravery of scarlet, and brawny handsome loons.
For Claver'se and Dalzell had trained the rascals well
For the pillage and the carnage, they set them now to do;
They haunted all our shores, and spied about our doors,
Watching keenly for our father, but we watched them keenly too.
For the pillage and the carnage, they set them now to do;
They haunted all our shores, and spied about our doors,
Watching keenly for our father, but we watched them keenly too.
Just then the rage was hot about the Ryehouse Plot,
Wherein he had no part, for all such doings he abhorred;
There were ten of us to feed, and his heart had daily need
Both of courage and of caution, and he trusted in the Lord,
Wherein he had no part, for all such doings he abhorred;
There were ten of us to feed, and his heart had daily need
Both of courage and of caution, and he trusted in the Lord,
And never went astray from the strait and narrow way
Of truth and right and duty, which his Master trod before;
He was staunch against oppression, and his heart bled for the nation,
But he waited for salvation, till God opened wide the door.
Of truth and right and duty, which his Master trod before;
He was staunch against oppression, and his heart bled for the nation,
But he waited for salvation, till God opened wide the door.
But guiltless though he was, they knew he loved the cause
Of the wronged and ruined people, and the Kirk he held so dear;
And his innocence had failed, when such lawlessness prevailed,
To protect the friend of Baillie from their fury and their fear.
Of the wronged and ruined people, and the Kirk he held so dear;
And his innocence had failed, when such lawlessness prevailed,
To protect the friend of Baillie from their fury and their fear.
He must take to hiding, then, where the prying eyes of men
Might not find him, till the trouble and the terror overpassed;
And the only likely place was a gruesome one to face
Where he laid his honoured father, when its door was opened last.
Might not find him, till the trouble and the terror overpassed;
And the only likely place was a gruesome one to face
Where he laid his honoured father, when its door was opened last.
Polwarth tomb beside the Kirk, it is eerie, cold, and mirk,
With a mere slit in the wall for light and air to enter in;
And scant the light and air ever came unto him there,
As he lay repeating Psalms, and praying to be kept from sin.
With a mere slit in the wall for light and air to enter in;
And scant the light and air ever came unto him there,
As he lay repeating Psalms, and praying to be kept from sin.
603
I often thank the Lord for His good and holy Word,
And also George Buchanan for his craft in Latin verse;
Father could not have got through the waste and weary time he knew,
But for humming the old Psalms he learnt in schooldays to rehearse.
And also George Buchanan for his craft in Latin verse;
Father could not have got through the waste and weary time he knew,
But for humming the old Psalms he learnt in schooldays to rehearse.
That kept his heart up well, as the glimmering sunlight fell
On the coffins heaped up grimly against the clammy wall,
While he breathed the sickly breath of old decay and death,
For the long line of his ancestry had there been buried all.
On the coffins heaped up grimly against the clammy wall,
While he breathed the sickly breath of old decay and death,
For the long line of his ancestry had there been buried all.
Mother and I alone were aware where he had gone,
My brothers were too young to be told a secret yet;
And each night, when they slept, forth into the dark I crept
Under the twinkling stars, when the sun had wholly set.
My brothers were too young to be told a secret yet;
And each night, when they slept, forth into the dark I crept
Under the twinkling stars, when the sun had wholly set.
At meal-times it was good just to watch our mother's mood
And the fun she made till every one must turn to her his head,
While I swept into my lap dainty bit and wholesome scrap,
Which they thought that I had eaten, and called me “greedy gled.”
And the fun she made till every one must turn to her his head,
While I swept into my lap dainty bit and wholesome scrap,
Which they thought that I had eaten, and called me “greedy gled.”
For the children must not know, nor the servants, where I go
Or what it was I took with me when I stole out at night;
But father must have meat in his hiding-place to eat,
And when I got my basket filled my heart was very light.
Or what it was I took with me when I stole out at night;
But father must have meat in his hiding-place to eat,
And when I got my basket filled my heart was very light.
I had always been afraid in the darkness, when I made
My way along the footpath beside the kirkyard wall;
I knew that ghosts were nought, yet my heart came to my throat,
If a rabbit scurried past me, or I heard an owlet call.
My way along the footpath beside the kirkyard wall;
I knew that ghosts were nought, yet my heart came to my throat,
If a rabbit scurried past me, or I heard an owlet call.
But now I stumbled on over mound and grey headstone,
As the dogs barked in the manse, when they heard my stealthy feet,
And I heeded not the dead, not a ghost was in my head,
But I only thought how soon he should have bread enough to eat.
As the dogs barked in the manse, when they heard my stealthy feet,
And I heeded not the dead, not a ghost was in my head,
But I only thought how soon he should have bread enough to eat.
I found him always gay, ready still to jest and play;
How he laughed out when I said the children called me “greedy gled!”
And first I had to tell him if all at home were well,
And then he thanked the Lord, and bared and bowed his honoured head.
How he laughed out when I said the children called me “greedy gled!”
And first I had to tell him if all at home were well,
And then he thanked the Lord, and bared and bowed his honoured head.
He was pious, cheerful, wise, and my happiest memories
Are the hours that I passed with him in the tomb by Polwarth Kirk;
Though his wrath would burn and blaze, as I spake of our evil days
When there was no law in the land, but the rule of sword and dirk.
Are the hours that I passed with him in the tomb by Polwarth Kirk;
Though his wrath would burn and blaze, as I spake of our evil days
When there was no law in the land, but the rule of sword and dirk.
We were feeling quite secure that our secret would endure
Any search they would be like to make among the kirkyard stones,
Though at times they might have heard, now and then, a Latin word,
Or even a peal of laughter from the house of dry old bones.
Any search they would be like to make among the kirkyard stones,
Though at times they might have heard, now and then, a Latin word,
Or even a peal of laughter from the house of dry old bones.
604
But it chanced upon a night, when the moon was shining bright,
That the parson in the manse beheld me through the kirkyard go;
He was but a craven loon, and the glamour of the moon
Made him take me for a phantom that was gliding to and fro.
That the parson in the manse beheld me through the kirkyard go;
He was but a craven loon, and the glamour of the moon
Made him take me for a phantom that was gliding to and fro.
Next day he took to bed, and the tidings quickly spread
Through the parish, that he had been driven into fainting fits
By a vision he had seen, flitting where the graves were green,
And filling him with terror till it shattered all his wits.
Through the parish, that he had been driven into fainting fits
By a vision he had seen, flitting where the graves were green,
And filling him with terror till it shattered all his wits.
Some laughed, and others hinted it was drink that had demented
The creature, who was known to be a spy upon his flock;
There were some, both young and old, who were lying then in hold
On the curate's information to the military folk.
The creature, who was known to be a spy upon his flock;
There were some, both young and old, who were lying then in hold
On the curate's information to the military folk.
But there were some troopers swore that they feared a ghost no more
Than a Whig, and they would watch the kirkyard willingly all night;
Give them but some cups of wine, and they would make wassail fine,
Though the Devil and all his angels came from hell to do them spite.
Than a Whig, and they would watch the kirkyard willingly all night;
Give them but some cups of wine, and they would make wassail fine,
Though the Devil and all his angels came from hell to do them spite.
What could we do to save our loved one good and brave,
Now that in his father's grave he could no longer hope to hide?
They were reckless and profane, those dragoons, and it was plain
They might keep their watch on nightly, till he pined away and died.
Now that in his father's grave he could no longer hope to hide?
They were reckless and profane, those dragoons, and it was plain
They might keep their watch on nightly, till he pined away and died.
I was fain to play the ghost with them, and take, at any cost,
The food that he would need upon a cold and wintry night;
For wrapt up in a sheet, and coming up with silent feet,
I felt sure that sudden terror would seize on them at the sight.
The food that he would need upon a cold and wintry night;
For wrapt up in a sheet, and coming up with silent feet,
I felt sure that sudden terror would seize on them at the sight.
I had no fear at all, for I knew the kirkyard wall,
And could jump it, and take shelter where they should not find me then;
But though father was so dear, mother would not even hear
Of my running any risks among those wild and godless men.
And could jump it, and take shelter where they should not find me then;
But though father was so dear, mother would not even hear
Of my running any risks among those wild and godless men.
She had thought out in her mind another way by which to blind
The foes if they suspected that he still was near at hand,
And she liked it all the rather that she thus could cheer our father
With the voices of the children, and the comforts she had planned.
The foes if they suspected that he still was near at hand,
And she liked it all the rather that she thus could cheer our father
With the voices of the children, and the comforts she had planned.
There was one whom we could trust, as clearly now we must,
And we took him into counsel, and began our task straightway:
In a room on the ground floor there was a bed and little more,
And we hoped to hide him there, until he might get safe away.
And we took him into counsel, and began our task straightway:
In a room on the ground floor there was a bed and little more,
And we hoped to hide him there, until he might get safe away.
Then we dug beneath the bed a hole to hide his honoured head,
Scraped the earth out with our fingers, till the nails were worn away,
And bore it in a sheet outside, until we did complete
The work we had in hand before the weary close of day.
Scraped the earth out with our fingers, till the nails were worn away,
And bore it in a sheet outside, until we did complete
The work we had in hand before the weary close of day.
605
Mother looked bright and brave, but I said 'twas like his grave,
And the box the man had made for it was like his coffin too:
But with holes in it for air, and a little room to spare,
And a mattress for his comfort, she thought that it might do.
And the box the man had made for it was like his coffin too:
But with holes in it for air, and a little room to spare,
And a mattress for his comfort, she thought that it might do.
The night was dark and wet, and before the watch was set,
I brought him safely home from his gruesome hiding-place;
And oh but she was glad, who had been of late so sad,
As she fell upon his bosom, and looked up into his face.
I brought him safely home from his gruesome hiding-place;
And oh but she was glad, who had been of late so sad,
As she fell upon his bosom, and looked up into his face.
Then she'd make him a gay feast, and his wine should be increased
From a flask up to a flagon, and they two should dine alone,
As on their wedding day, when he bore his bride away,
A prouder, happier man than the king upon his throne.
From a flask up to a flagon, and they two should dine alone,
As on their wedding day, when he bore his bride away,
A prouder, happier man than the king upon his throne.
Meanwhile the rain fell fast, and beneath the howling blast
Doors banged and windows rattled, and the old house seemed to rock;
But though the night was eerie, their hearts were very cheery,
And they only said the storm was hard on poor and homeless folk.
Doors banged and windows rattled, and the old house seemed to rock;
But though the night was eerie, their hearts were very cheery,
And they only said the storm was hard on poor and homeless folk.
At length she rose to show his hiding-place below
The great bed by the wall, where none would surely seek for him;
But the box it was afloat, and leading like a boat
Which had gazened in the sunshine, till it scarce was fit to swim.
The great bed by the wall, where none would surely seek for him;
But the box it was afloat, and leading like a boat
Which had gazened in the sunshine, till it scarce was fit to swim.
He smiled at our pet scheme, which had proved an idle dream,
But mother was so vexed, he would not tease her with a jest,
But gently stroked her hair, and bade her not despair;
That the rain should flood the old house no mortal could have guessed.
But mother was so vexed, he would not tease her with a jest,
But gently stroked her hair, and bade her not despair;
That the rain should flood the old house no mortal could have guessed.
“Well, to-morrow's Wooler Fair,” he said, “and we should have horses there
If we would not lose the market. Let the man set forth to-night,
And let him take the highway, while I will take the byway,
And pick him up, I reckon, before the morning light.
If we would not lose the market. Let the man set forth to-night,
And let him take the highway, while I will take the byway,
And pick him up, I reckon, before the morning light.
“We must run some risk, indeed, but I know the fords of Tweed,
And there is no safety here, now suspicion is awake,
John will ride my good bay horse, and use it tenderly of course,
For none can tell how long a journey next day I must take.”
And there is no safety here, now suspicion is awake,
John will ride my good bay horse, and use it tenderly of course,
For none can tell how long a journey next day I must take.”
We had no time to waste, yet we must not seem in haste,
But as if we went on calmly in our ordinary way;
So the colts were all got ready by our trusty man and steady,
And father crossed the Border before the break of day.
But as if we went on calmly in our ordinary way;
So the colts were all got ready by our trusty man and steady,
And father crossed the Border before the break of day.
Then we had a while to wait in a troubled, restless state,
Till tidings came from Holland he had landed on its coast,
Having been to Wooler Fair, and sold his horses there,
And got money in his purse to “pay the lawing of Mine Host.”
Till tidings came from Holland he had landed on its coast,
Having been to Wooler Fair, and sold his horses there,
And got money in his purse to “pay the lawing of Mine Host.”
606
THE ROVER OF SALLEE
It's oh, there was never a happier wife
Than I was in all the old kingdom of Fife;
And never a brighter fireside than ours,
With the bairns around it all blooming like flowers;
And never a better goodman than mine
Whose home made him blither than stoups of wine;
And he loved me as if I had still been a bride,
And the fear of the Lord was at our fireside.
Than I was in all the old kingdom of Fife;
And never a brighter fireside than ours,
With the bairns around it all blooming like flowers;
And never a better goodman than mine
Whose home made him blither than stoups of wine;
And he loved me as if I had still been a bride,
And the fear of the Lord was at our fireside.
But now, as the wild wave breaks on the sea,
Even so is my sad heart breaking in me:
For the woeful news that have come to hand
From the Barbary shore, and the Blackamoor's land.
And who will now be my honoured head?
And who will win for us daily bread?
And who will bring to our hearts good cheer
The moment his foot at the door we hear?
Even so is my sad heart breaking in me:
For the woeful news that have come to hand
From the Barbary shore, and the Blackamoor's land.
And who will now be my honoured head?
And who will win for us daily bread?
And who will bring to our hearts good cheer
The moment his foot at the door we hear?
It was a rover of Sallee
That drove at his vessel with galleys three,
Leaping out from the Spanish shores
Under the sweep of a hundred oars.
John fought his ship till her decks were red,
And fifty Moors lay dying or dead,
And of his twenty gallant men
But two were unwounded, the killed were ten.
That drove at his vessel with galleys three,
Leaping out from the Spanish shores
Under the sweep of a hundred oars.
John fought his ship till her decks were red,
And fifty Moors lay dying or dead,
And of his twenty gallant men
But two were unwounded, the killed were ten.
The pirate robbed him of all his gear,
Tortured his body till death came near,
Sank his ship in the deep mid sea,
And bore him a slave to Barbary.
There he is dragging a heavy chain,
As he toils all day in the sun and rain,
And he sleeps in a den among rotten weeds,
And rats and toads and centipedes.
Tortured his body till death came near,
Sank his ship in the deep mid sea,
And bore him a slave to Barbary.
There he is dragging a heavy chain,
As he toils all day in the sun and rain,
And he sleeps in a den among rotten weeds,
And rats and toads and centipedes.
O love, my love, as I stood that day
On the windy pier when you sailed away,
And the ship swung cheerily o'er the bar,
And the sails swelled out on each bending spar,
Little I dreamt I had seen the last
Of the good old ship and her bending mast,
Or what sad fate should her crew befall,
And him that was dearer to me than all.
On the windy pier when you sailed away,
And the ship swung cheerily o'er the bar,
And the sails swelled out on each bending spar,
Little I dreamt I had seen the last
Of the good old ship and her bending mast,
Or what sad fate should her crew befall,
And him that was dearer to me than all.
It's oh, if I were but Queen of the land,
With ships of war at my free command,
I would not send them to harry Spain,
Or to fight the Dutch on the lowland main;
But they should sail to the Barbary coast,
To battle the Moor where he keeps his host,
And my goodman should delivered be
From the wicked Rover of Sallee.
With ships of war at my free command,
I would not send them to harry Spain,
Or to fight the Dutch on the lowland main;
But they should sail to the Barbary coast,
To battle the Moor where he keeps his host,
And my goodman should delivered be
From the wicked Rover of Sallee.
What is the use of our great war-ships
If honest sailors, on trading trips,
May be boarded by pirate crews and slain,
Or bound as slaves with a cruel chain?
Oh that we had again Andrew Wood,
Who for his country so bravely stood;
Or William Scott, who by night and day
Hunted the rovers from creek and bay!
If honest sailors, on trading trips,
May be boarded by pirate crews and slain,
Or bound as slaves with a cruel chain?
Oh that we had again Andrew Wood,
Who for his country so bravely stood;
Or William Scott, who by night and day
Hunted the rovers from creek and bay!
607
To ransom my man I have given up all
The means that I had—but my means were small;
And the Kirk is collecting, from rich and poor,
Money to send to the rascal Moor.
But what we need is the hand of the strong,
And the sword of might to put down wrong;
And oh, that our sorrows and shames might evoke
A King of some mettle who cared for his folk.
The means that I had—but my means were small;
And the Kirk is collecting, from rich and poor,
Money to send to the rascal Moor.
But what we need is the hand of the strong,
And the sword of might to put down wrong;
And oh, that our sorrows and shames might evoke
A King of some mettle who cared for his folk.
THE CAMERONIAN REGIMENT
Sound-hearted and true,
All men of good-will,
Healthy and hearty,
And staunch to our party,
Douglasdale sends us to tell you that still
It can find the right men when there's right work to do.
All men of good-will,
Healthy and hearty,
And staunch to our party,
Douglasdale sends us to tell you that still
It can find the right men when there's right work to do.
Our Colonel's a Lord
Of the old Douglas name:
But next him is Cleland,
And there is not a gallanter,
Gone off now with Claver'se, will play the great game
Better than he will, by word and by Sword.
Of the old Douglas name:
But next him is Cleland,
And there is not a gallanter,
Gone off now with Claver'se, will play the great game
Better than he will, by word and by Sword.
He was but a lad
When he fought at Drumclog,
At Bothwell a bullet,
Well aimed for Rathillet,
Glanced off, and hit Cleland who stood by the Bog,
Cheering the men when the business looked bad.
When he fought at Drumclog,
At Bothwell a bullet,
Well aimed for Rathillet,
Glanced off, and hit Cleland who stood by the Bog,
Cheering the men when the business looked bad.
Had all been as stout
As he was that day,
As fearless and faithful
Amid all the deathful
Rushes and shocks of the battle array,
There had not been a wail at the end, but a shout.
As he was that day,
As fearless and faithful
Amid all the deathful
Rushes and shocks of the battle array,
There had not been a wail at the end, but a shout.
Well, the verse he will write
Is a profitless task;
Yet it soothes his hot spirit,
And so we can bear it;
But give him a sword in his hand, and you'd ask
No gallant soldier to order the fight.
Is a profitless task;
Yet it soothes his hot spirit,
And so we can bear it;
But give him a sword in his hand, and you'd ask
No gallant soldier to order the fight.
He knows us each man,
And we know and trust him,
And will show him our mettle
In the fierce tug of battle,
For it nerves every arm, when the dust-cloud is dim,
Just to watch his good sword flashing still on the van.
And we know and trust him,
And will show him our mettle
In the fierce tug of battle,
For it nerves every arm, when the dust-cloud is dim,
Just to watch his good sword flashing still on the van.
We're all Cameron's men,
Pledged to Covenant work,
And we'll not do it slackly,
But strict and exactly,
As Cromwell's lads did it at Naseby and York,—
They were Sectaries, but they did godly work then.
Pledged to Covenant work,
And we'll not do it slackly,
But strict and exactly,
As Cromwell's lads did it at Naseby and York,—
They were Sectaries, but they did godly work then.
All our knapsacks contain
The good Book of God's word,
And every blue bonnet,
With the top-knot upon it,
Holds a head that can think and resolve for the Lord,
And the born rights of Freemen will stoutly maintain.
The good Book of God's word,
And every blue bonnet,
With the top-knot upon it,
Holds a head that can think and resolve for the Lord,
And the born rights of Freemen will stoutly maintain.
For the Kirk and its Cause
We are banded to fight,
Every man of us zealots
Against Popes and Prelates,
Erastians, Arminians, and those birds of night,
The trafficking mass-priests who scorn all the laws.
We are banded to fight,
Every man of us zealots
Against Popes and Prelates,
608
The trafficking mass-priests who scorn all the laws.
We shall not fight the worse
That we also can pray,
And are not, like the troopers,
Roused from deep, drunken stupors,
With pistol and sabre to smite, and to slay,
And to trample the saints 'neath the hoof of the horse.
That we also can pray,
And are not, like the troopers,
Roused from deep, drunken stupors,
With pistol and sabre to smite, and to slay,
And to trample the saints 'neath the hoof of the horse.
“For Christ's Cause and Crown,”
That's our watch ward in fight,
And we mean to deliver
The nation for ever
From the false perjured king, and his surplices white,
His mass-books, and priests whom we wholly disown.
That's our watch ward in fight,
And we mean to deliver
The nation for ever
From the false perjured king, and his surplices white,
His mass-books, and priests whom we wholly disown.
Let the Highland Host come,
They'll be here by and by,
For they may not long tarry
By Tummel and Garry.
Lads, close up your ranks, see your powder is dry,
And blow up the trumpet, and beat the big drum.
They'll be here by and by,
For they may not long tarry
By Tummel and Garry.
Lads, close up your ranks, see your powder is dry,
And blow up the trumpet, and beat the big drum.
THE RABBLING OF THE CURATES
Yes! they blamed us loudly of course,
The man who oppressed us so long,
That we counted on. But it was worse
When our friends too said we did wrong,
And had sullied, and tarnished with crime
The grandest event of the time.
The man who oppressed us so long,
That we counted on. But it was worse
When our friends too said we did wrong,
And had sullied, and tarnished with crime
The grandest event of the time.
Yet there's more to be said for our work
Than some of our wiseacres think,
We did not set on, like the Turk,
Inflamed with religion and drink,
To wreak a blind vengeance, and strike
The good and the bad both alike.
Than some of our wiseacres think,
We did not set on, like the Turk,
Inflamed with religion and drink,
To wreak a blind vengeance, and strike
The good and the bad both alike.
It was justice we aimed at. We chose
With care whom we meant to cast out,
And when some would have rough-handled those
We knew nothing evil about—
For there were some devout curates too—
With them we had nothing to do.
With care whom we meant to cast out,
And when some would have rough-handled those
We knew nothing evil about—
For there were some devout curates too—
With them we had nothing to do.
But the priests who were spies on their flock,
Who sent lists to the soldiers to kill,
Or who dragged to the cord and the block
Those who liked a discourse on the hill,
Which did them some good, as they thought,
Them we harried well, sparing them not.
Who sent lists to the soldiers to kill,
Or who dragged to the cord and the block
Those who liked a discourse on the hill,
Which did them some good, as they thought,
Them we harried well, sparing them not.
It looked a rough work to be sure;
But we struck at none of their lives,
Only cast out their fine furniture,
And meddled with none of their wives;
We carried off none of their stores,
But left them outside the manse doors.
But we struck at none of their lives,
Only cast out their fine furniture,
And meddled with none of their wives;
We carried off none of their stores,
But left them outside the manse doors.
'Tis like enough some caught a cold,
For the weather was not always good,
And it might be too much for the old,
Yet I never have understood
That any one died outright
Of our rabbling, that gave them a fright.
For the weather was not always good,
And it might be too much for the old,
Yet I never have understood
That any one died outright
Of our rabbling, that gave them a fright.
No blood by our lads, then, was spilt,
We sought not for any one's life,
But out hearts were wroth at the guilt
Of the man who, when troubles were rife,
Debased their high office to be
The tools of a vile tyranny.
We sought not for any one's life,
But out hearts were wroth at the guilt
Of the man who, when troubles were rife,
Debased their high office to be
The tools of a vile tyranny.
609
Would you have us look on, and be calm
When our shepherds, whose duty is plain,
By preaching, by prayer, and by Psalm,
To bring us to God's way again,
Took to hounding dragoons on the people
Who preferred the hillside to their steeple?
When our shepherds, whose duty is plain,
By preaching, by prayer, and by Psalm,
To bring us to God's way again,
Took to hounding dragoons on the people
Who preferred the hillside to their steeple?
In our worship we mostly were slack,
But we all were human at least;
And when friends got the boot or the rack,
On the hint of some rogue of a priest,
That burnt in our hearts like a fire;
And our scorn and our loathing were dire.
But we all were human at least;
And when friends got the boot or the rack,
On the hint of some rogue of a priest,
That burnt in our hearts like a fire;
And our scorn and our loathing were dire.
There were heads on the Netherbow Port
We had honoured for patriot zeal,
While turncoats and triflers at Court
Were wrecking the common weal;
And the Church, which should shield the oppressed,
Cared only to feather its nest.
We had honoured for patriot zeal,
While turncoats and triflers at Court
Were wrecking the common weal;
And the Church, which should shield the oppressed,
Cared only to feather its nest.
No, I am not ashamed—not a whit—
Of the work that I did in those days.
It had been foul shame just to sit,
And join in the prayer and the praise
Of the wolves in sheeps' clothing, who then
Had the cure of the souls of poor men.
Of the work that I did in those days.
It had been foul shame just to sit,
And join in the prayer and the praise
Of the wolves in sheeps' clothing, who then
Had the cure of the souls of poor men.
I grant we had not enough faith
To resist, in the time of their might,
Like those who withstood unto death,
And held by the truth and the right;
We shared in the nation's complaints,
But we were neither heroes nor saints.
To resist, in the time of their might,
Like those who withstood unto death,
And held by the truth and the right;
We shared in the nation's complaints,
But we were neither heroes nor saints.
What would you? Some men are so made,
They are not very noble or brave;
Let them quietly work at their trade,
Eat and drink, and go down to the grave,
And they may be good citizens, though
Not a throb of great Spirits they know.
They are not very noble or brave;
Let them quietly work at their trade,
Eat and drink, and go down to the grave,
And they may be good citizens, though
Not a throb of great Spirits they know.
Yet, when they can safely reveal
The thoughts of their heart, you may find
That they long had been fain to conceal
The wrath of a well-ordered mind,
As the thunder lies hid in the cloud,
Till it bursts at length angry and loud.
The thoughts of their heart, you may find
That they long had been fain to conceal
The wrath of a well-ordered mind,
As the thunder lies hid in the cloud,
Till it bursts at length angry and loud.
We were mostly young lads from the plough,
And our wrath was a kind of horse-play—
A frolic of justice, which now
Looks to me just too mirthful and gay;
It had better befitted the cause
Had our rabbling been worse than it was.
And our wrath was a kind of horse-play—
A frolic of justice, which now
Looks to me just too mirthful and gay;
It had better befitted the cause
Had our rabbling been worse than it was.
We gave the bad curates a fright,
And we laughed at their crestfallen looks
When we roused them from slumber that night,
And burned their messe-robes and messe-books:
But we left them to go their own way,
With their lives and their gear for a prey.
And we laughed at their crestfallen looks
When we roused them from slumber that night,
And burned their messe-robes and messe-books:
But we left them to go their own way,
With their lives and their gear for a prey.
THE SIEGE OF THE BASS
Just two miles off from the mainland,
Where the Forth is broad and free,
The Bass and its grim rock-fortress
Stands fronting the grey North Sea;
The wild gulls nest on its ledges,
Or over it fly in clouds,
And round it the sea-waves breaking
Turn white for the sailor's shrouds.
Where the Forth is broad and free,
The Bass and its grim rock-fortress
Stands fronting the grey North Sea;
The wild gulls nest on its ledges,
Or over it fly in clouds,
And round it the sea-waves breaking
Turn white for the sailor's shrouds.
610
Four of Dundee's wild gallants,
Left in its prison to pine,
Seized on it, one day the soldiers
Had gone off for fuel and wine,
Closed the gate fast on them sternly,
And threatened to shoot them down;
They would hold the Fort for its Master,
The king who owned the crown.
Left in its prison to pine,
Seized on it, one day the soldiers
Had gone off for fuel and wine,
Closed the gate fast on them sternly,
And threatened to shoot them down;
They would hold the Fort for its Master,
The king who owned the crown.
A Middleton, a Halyburton,
With ensigns Roy and Dunbar,
They were reckless and brave as the Leader
They had followed in peace and war;
Young Crawford, Ardmillan, and others
Ere long, too, would share in the fight;
And sixteen men, at the utmost,
They bearded a nation's might.
With ensigns Roy and Dunbar,
They were reckless and brave as the Leader
They had followed in peace and war;
Young Crawford, Ardmillan, and others
Ere long, too, would share in the fight;
And sixteen men, at the utmost,
They bearded a nation's might.
They had ample shot and powder,
More guns than they well could man,
And plenty of swords and muskets
To ply when the fray began;
And watch and ward they kept strictly,
As the soldier's custom is,
For it was the last rag of his kingdom
King James could still call his.
More guns than they well could man,
And plenty of swords and muskets
To ply when the fray began;
And watch and ward they kept strictly,
As the soldier's custom is,
For it was the last rag of his kingdom
King James could still call his.
They had nights of wild adventure
When they roved in search of prey,
And nights of deep carousal
That lasted till break of day.
Where the Whigs were of late psalm-singing,
And their prayers had been loud and long,
Now the roof was with laughter ringing,
And ribald jest and song.
When they roved in search of prey,
And nights of deep carousal
That lasted till break of day.
Where the Whigs were of late psalm-singing,
And their prayers had been loud and long,
Now the roof was with laughter ringing,
And ribald jest and song.
They raided the coast of Lothian,
They plundered the towns of Fife,
They tithed the Merse to provide them
With bread to maintain their life.
But sixteen men in a fortress
Two miles out at sea,
What could they hope to accomplish?
What could their purpose be?
They plundered the towns of Fife,
They tithed the Merse to provide them
With bread to maintain their life.
But sixteen men in a fortress
Two miles out at sea,
What could they hope to accomplish?
What could their purpose be?
By day they would boast and swagger,
By night they would rob and steal
Where they found a cove to shelter,
Or a shore to beach their keel;
And they flaunted the king's broad banner
Aloft in the sun and rain,
And drank to his health, and shouted
He should soon have his own again.
By night they would rob and steal
Where they found a cove to shelter,
Or a shore to beach their keel;
And they flaunted the king's broad banner
Aloft in the sun and rain,
And drank to his health, and shouted
He should soon have his own again.
Wroth were the Lords of Council
When they met in Parliament,
And the Lion ship of battle
To the leaguer straight was sent:
But she had to lie off helpless
Till the sailors' hearts were sick,
For the guns of the Fort were heavy,
And they would have sunk her quick.
When they met in Parliament,
And the Lion ship of battle
To the leaguer straight was sent:
But she had to lie off helpless
Till the sailors' hearts were sick,
For the guns of the Fort were heavy,
And they would have sunk her quick.
The French king heard their story,
And thereon manned a ship
Which the Lion feared to tackle,
And straight away did slip;
So the French left fresh munitions,
And store of food and wine,
That they might maintain the battle,
And also bravely dine.
And thereon manned a ship
Which the Lion feared to tackle,
And straight away did slip;
So the French left fresh munitions,
And store of food and wine,
That they might maintain the battle,
And also bravely dine.
Around the Council table
The nobles gnashed their teeth;
Their swords hung at their girdles,
But each glued in its sheath.
A nation stood behind them
With all its power and might,
Yet sixteen men on the Bass Rock
Held out in their despite.
The nobles gnashed their teeth;
Their swords hung at their girdles,
But each glued in its sheath.
A nation stood behind them
With all its power and might,
Yet sixteen men on the Bass Rock
Held out in their despite.
Where was the ancient courage
That stood by the gallant Bruce?
And the large resource and patience
That sought nor peace nor truce?
Where were the daring spirits
That did to Wallace turn?
And where the skill of battle
That won at Bannockburn?
That stood by the gallant Bruce?
And the large resource and patience
That sought nor peace nor truce?
Where were the daring spirits
That did to Wallace turn?
And where the skill of battle
That won at Bannockburn?
611
Once Scotland had her soldiers
Who could her cause make good—
Her Douglases and Randolphs,
Her brave Sir Andrew Wood,
Her Lindsays and her Leslies,
And hosts of fighting men;
But now she has Dalrymples,
And for the sword a pen.
Who could her cause make good—
Her Douglases and Randolphs,
Her brave Sir Andrew Wood,
Her Lindsays and her Leslies,
And hosts of fighting men;
But now she has Dalrymples,
And for the sword a pen.
It is craft they use for courage,
And blows dealt in the dark,
As the men of Glencoe can witness,
And no dog dares to bark;
They follow the ways of Rothes,
And Lauderdale, and those
Who sought but to find their profit
In the nation's wrongs and woes.
And blows dealt in the dark,
As the men of Glencoe can witness,
And no dog dares to bark;
They follow the ways of Rothes,
And Lauderdale, and those
Who sought but to find their profit
In the nation's wrongs and woes.
We hoped when the Papist monarch
Took shipping across the sea,
That all would be now well ordered,
And the people glad and free.
But their rule is weak and cruel,
And the nation rent and torn;
And sixteen men on the Bass Rock
Could laugh them all to scorn.
Took shipping across the sea,
That all would be now well ordered,
And the people glad and free.
But their rule is weak and cruel,
And the nation rent and torn;
And sixteen men on the Bass Rock
Could laugh them all to scorn.
For two long years it lasted,
That siege of the brave sixteen;
And when at length they yielded,
All hunger-pinched and lean,
They came off with flying colours
In soldierly array,
With sword, and dirk, and pistol,
And a sporran—with their pay!
That siege of the brave sixteen;
And when at length they yielded,
All hunger-pinched and lean,
They came off with flying colours
In soldierly array,
With sword, and dirk, and pistol,
And a sporran—with their pay!
Now, shame upon the laggards,
With hands so weak and slack,
To be mocked by these rough troopers,
With a nation at their back!
And to pay the rogues for robbing
The poor folk on the shore,
And send them away, still bragging
They would play the game once more!
With hands so weak and slack,
To be mocked by these rough troopers,
With a nation at their back!
And to pay the rogues for robbing
The poor folk on the shore,
And send them away, still bragging
They would play the game once more!
DAMIEN AND MARION CUNNINGHAM
It's oh the bonnie Tynron braes
Where the broom grows high and green,
And the ivied wall and the birchtree tall,
And the burn that runs between;
Where, in the dewy gloaming light,
So oft our tryst had been.
Where the broom grows high and green,
And the ivied wall and the birchtree tall,
And the burn that runs between;
Where, in the dewy gloaming light,
So oft our tryst had been.
The stars came forth to watch us there,
And smile upon our bliss;
The small birds and the wanton hare,
They shared our joy, I wis;
There were no other eyes to care
How fondly we might kiss.
And smile upon our bliss;
The small birds and the wanton hare,
They shared our joy, I wis;
There were no other eyes to care
How fondly we might kiss.
My love was lord of Abingdon,
And I was a Glencairn;
But true love levels all, and none
Its blessedness may learn,
Who will not pass, as lad and lass,
Among the broom and fern.
And I was a Glencairn;
But true love levels all, and none
Its blessedness may learn,
Who will not pass, as lad and lass,
Among the broom and fern.
Still far below the waters flow,
Low-whispering as they move,
And the mavis still, at his sweet will,
Sings high on the tree above—
He sings the same song o'er and o'er,
As we did with our love.
Low-whispering as they move,
And the mavis still, at his sweet will,
Sings high on the tree above—
He sings the same song o'er and o'er,
As we did with our love.
And still the primrose pranks the braes
When spring is in the air,
And still the broom is in a blaze
When young birds flutter there;
But the scented broom and its golden bloom
Are heavy with grief and care.
When spring is in the air,
And still the broom is in a blaze
When young birds flutter there;
But the scented broom and its golden bloom
Are heavy with grief and care.
No more they speak about love and hope,
As they did so fondly then,
But of a host that pine and drop,
All fainting, famished men,
And a lonely grave by the breaking wave
On the shore of Damien.
As they did so fondly then,
But of a host that pine and drop,
All fainting, famished men,
And a lonely grave by the breaking wave
On the shore of Damien.
612
LADY GRANGE
O the villain! to leave me here
On this desolate rock far out at sea,
Among red-shanked Celts, with their freckles and warts,
And gannets and kittiwakes, puffins and scarts,
Which are all that I have for company.
On this desolate rock far out at sea,
Among red-shanked Celts, with their freckles and warts,
And gannets and kittiwakes, puffins and scarts,
Which are all that I have for company.
Never a word of their Erse I know,
I might as well talk to the screaming gulls:
And the big waves crash on the rocks all day,
And growl through the night, like beasts of prey
Worrying over rib-bones and skulls.
I might as well talk to the screaming gulls:
And the big waves crash on the rocks all day,
And growl through the night, like beasts of prey
Worrying over rib-bones and skulls.
The poor folk mean to be kind in their way;
But I cannot breathe in their peatsmoked rooms,
Nor eat of their oily, ill-cooked food,
Nor sleep at night, for the vermin brood
You might sweep from the bed with their heather brooms.
But I cannot breathe in their peatsmoked rooms,
Nor eat of their oily, ill-cooked food,
Nor sleep at night, for the vermin brood
You might sweep from the bed with their heather brooms.
O my Lord Grange, I held you once
For a good man truly, with wit and sense:
But I know you now for a rogue ingrain,
And how can you ever show face again
Among men of honour and reverence?
For a good man truly, with wit and sense:
But I know you now for a rogue ingrain,
And how can you ever show face again
Among men of honour and reverence?
Four of your gillies, bare-legged loons,
Broke into my chamber, and bound me fast;
Gagged me, and carried me out of town,
Hither and thither, and up and down,
To land me here on this rock at last.
Broke into my chamber, and bound me fast;
Gagged me, and carried me out of town,
Hither and thither, and up and down,
To land me here on this rock at last.
But you dare not keep me always here;
I know the Mac Leod will set me free,
When he learns, as he shall, that a lady born
Lies on his desolate isle, forlorn,
Moaning her fate to the moaning sea.
I know the Mac Leod will set me free,
When he learns, as he shall, that a lady born
Lies on his desolate isle, forlorn,
Moaning her fate to the moaning sea.
What will he think of my Lord of Grange,
When the wrongs I have borne shall come to light?
And what will the rest of the Fifteen say
Of their brother Judge, when they have to lay
The Law down about him, and do me right?
When the wrongs I have borne shall come to light?
And what will the rest of the Fifteen say
Of their brother Judge, when they have to lay
The Law down about him, and do me right?
I have shielded him long, as a wife will do,
But now I will speak out all the truth;
He is come of a traitorous, viperous tribe,
And is falser and baser than tongue can describe,
Though his looks are so fair, and his tongue so smooth.
But now I will speak out all the truth;
He is come of a traitorous, viperous tribe,
And is falser and baser than tongue can describe,
Though his looks are so fair, and his tongue so smooth.
The hypocrite! think of him reading for hours
His Bible at nights, when the lamps come in,
While his madame creeps stealthily up the back stairs,
And hears him ere long at his evening prayers,
Loudly bewailing his load of sin.
His Bible at nights, when the lamps come in,
While his madame creeps stealthily up the back stairs,
And hears him ere long at his evening prayers,
Loudly bewailing his load of sin.
And then, too, he must have his prophet-maids,
Who reel off their dreams to him by the yard
In a dingy back-shop in the Potter-row,
To freshen his faith when it waxes low,
And to fool him out of a fine reward.
Who reel off their dreams to him by the yard
In a dingy back-shop in the Potter-row,
To freshen his faith when it waxes low,
And to fool him out of a fine reward.
We Chievellys are said to be rash and hot,
Ready enough with a word and a blow,
And their hands, I allow, have with blood been stained
Of some they have stabbed, and some they have brained,
But they count not a hypocrite yet that I know.
Ready enough with a word and a blow,
613
Of some they have stabbed, and some they have brained,
But they count not a hypocrite yet that I know.
But he! he's a hollow pretence all through,
There is nothing he will not deceive you about;
He lies to the Kirk in his pious words,
He lies to the King, and the Court, and the lords,
And he lied to me, till I found him out.
There is nothing he will not deceive you about;
He lies to the Kirk in his pious words,
He lies to the King, and the Court, and the lords,
And he lied to me, till I found him out.
Hear him sentence a witch to be burned,
Or a Border thief to be hanged for a cow,
What a God-fearing man you would take him for!
Yet I think that the country would profit more
If it were his own neck that should “rax the tow.”
Or a Border thief to be hanged for a cow,
What a God-fearing man you would take him for!
Yet I think that the country would profit more
If it were his own neck that should “rax the tow.”
And oh, the tasses of usquebagh!
And the gallons of potent wine he drinks!
And his nasty stories, and filthy jokes,
As he soaks his carcase, and slowly strokes
His great fat paunch, and leers and winks!
And the gallons of potent wine he drinks!
And his nasty stories, and filthy jokes,
As he soaks his carcase, and slowly strokes
His great fat paunch, and leers and winks!
Was ever a woman so vilely wed?
Was ever a wife abused like me?
Cast forth alone among gulls and seals,
And jabbering Celts, with their lines and creels,
And the dreary call of the moaning sea?
Was ever a wife abused like me?
Cast forth alone among gulls and seals,
And jabbering Celts, with their lines and creels,
And the dreary call of the moaning sea?
I cannot get rid of that moaning call;
Go where I may, it follows me still:
It rings in my ears the whole day long,
And haunts my dreams with its wailing song,
Till I wish there was something near to kill.
Go where I may, it follows me still:
It rings in my ears the whole day long,
And haunts my dreams with its wailing song,
Till I wish there was something near to kill.
| The Poetical Works of Walter C. Smith | |