The Poetical Works of Walter C. Smith ... Revised by the Author: Coll. ed. |
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YOUNG ERSKINE OF DUN |
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 | The Poetical Works of Walter C. Smith |  |
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!
| The Poetical Works of Walter C. Smith | |