The poetical works of William Nicholson With a memoir by Malcolm M'L. Harper ... Fourth edition |
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TO MELANCHOLY. |
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 | The poetical works of William Nicholson |  |
TO MELANCHOLY.
Dull Melancholy! ruefu' maid,
Begot in disappointment's shade
By dire Disease, thy donsie dad,
On Pride, thy mither,
Wi' sickly Thought, a pale-faced blade,
Thy elder brither.
Begot in disappointment's shade
By dire Disease, thy donsie dad,
On Pride, thy mither,
Wi' sickly Thought, a pale-faced blade,
Thy elder brither.
I ken thee by thy ceaseless mane,
Thy staukin' gait, and hollow grane,
Thy lantern chafts, and lang cheek-bane,
And deadened e'e,
As wanderin' through the woods thy lane,
Thy form I see.
Thy staukin' gait, and hollow grane,
Thy lantern chafts, and lang cheek-bane,
And deadened e'e,
As wanderin' through the woods thy lane,
Thy form I see.
Or saunterin' near some auld grey biggin',
Where Time has torn the roof and riggin',
Where ghaists and bogles bead fu' trig in,
Wi' midnight croon,
And elves and fairies flisk a jig in,
To waning moon:
Where Time has torn the roof and riggin',
Where ghaists and bogles bead fu' trig in,
Wi' midnight croon,
And elves and fairies flisk a jig in,
To waning moon:
118
And by thy thoughtfu' pensive brow,
Bound roun' wi' willow, twined wi' yew,
And gloomy garb that's dark to view,
And cypress sash on;
Thou mind'st nae gowns o' gaudy hue,
Nor freaks o' fashion;
Bound roun' wi' willow, twined wi' yew,
And gloomy garb that's dark to view,
And cypress sash on;
Thou mind'st nae gowns o' gaudy hue,
Nor freaks o' fashion;
Nor blushing Spring, wi' dews and showers,
Nor Summer gay, wi' blowing flowers,
Nor Autumn, though she plenty pours,
Ye're seldom tentin',
But Winter's wildest, loudest roars
Ye're maist content in.
Nor Summer gay, wi' blowing flowers,
Nor Autumn, though she plenty pours,
Ye're seldom tentin',
But Winter's wildest, loudest roars
Ye're maist content in.
What gars ye now be sae prevailin',
And spread your power baith moor and dale on,
Till hame-spun fouks in cot and mailin'
Ye blaw your breath on,
And cheerfu' Mirth's gay empire's failin'
Wi' thoughts distressin'?
And spread your power baith moor and dale on,
Till hame-spun fouks in cot and mailin'
Ye blaw your breath on,
And cheerfu' Mirth's gay empire's failin'
Wi' thoughts distressin'?
The great, that o' their gear are heedfu',
Though blest wi' mair than what is needfu',
By thee are torn wi' whim that's dreadfu',
And discontent,
Till a' their joys prove unremeadfu'
For want o' want.
Though blest wi' mair than what is needfu',
By thee are torn wi' whim that's dreadfu',
And discontent,
Till a' their joys prove unremeadfu'
For want o' want.
O' wad ye stay wi' foppish loons,
Or prey on priests wi' haly gowns,
Or novel nymphs in borough towns,
Wha ne'er relent ye;
Or fouks wi' garters, stars, and crowns,
Might weel content ye.
Or prey on priests wi' haly gowns,
Or novel nymphs in borough towns,
Wha ne'er relent ye;
Or fouks wi' garters, stars, and crowns,
Might weel content ye.
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Yet aft ye wring the noblest hearts,
When hope her wonted hame deserts,
Or where love shoots his scornfu' darts,
Ye're sure to dwell;
But where remorse the feelin' smarts,
Ye're neist to hell.
When hope her wonted hame deserts,
Or where love shoots his scornfu' darts,
Ye're sure to dwell;
But where remorse the feelin' smarts,
Ye're neist to hell.
How cheerless shines the cheerfu' light,
And lanely langsome is the night,
To mopin' melancholy wight
Wha's fancy swims,
While fiends and spectres greet his sight
In dreary dreams?
And lanely langsome is the night,
To mopin' melancholy wight
Wha's fancy swims,
While fiends and spectres greet his sight
In dreary dreams?
The smiles o' beauty, he may see them,
The sweets o' life he canna pree them;
He sees nae things as ithers e'e them:
Trifles perplex him;
Nor music's warblin' notes can please him,
But teaze and vex him.
The sweets o' life he canna pree them;
He sees nae things as ithers e'e them:
Trifles perplex him;
Nor music's warblin' notes can please him,
But teaze and vex him.
I've seen thy balefu' influence shed
Roun' skinny poortith's strawy bed;
The frien'less wretch, there lowly laid,
Thou sting'st amain,
And spread'st around his cheerless bed
Thy gloomy train.
Roun' skinny poortith's strawy bed;
The frien'less wretch, there lowly laid,
Thou sting'st amain,
And spread'st around his cheerless bed
Thy gloomy train.
Till frenzied Fever's fiery han'
Alang the witherin' lips was drawn,
Fond Hope and Health were at a stan'—
Ye crushed them there;
Then roused your daughter, wild and wan—
E'en dark Despair!
Alang the witherin' lips was drawn,
Fond Hope and Health were at a stan'—
Ye crushed them there;
Then roused your daughter, wild and wan—
E'en dark Despair!
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Poor Poets, in their airy station,
Wrapt up in cobweb contemplation,
Whilst spinning out some new creation,
Wi' hopefu' e'e,
Are hissed by harpy Condemnation,
Then torn by thee.
Wrapt up in cobweb contemplation,
Whilst spinning out some new creation,
Wi' hopefu' e'e,
Are hissed by harpy Condemnation,
Then torn by thee.
Although thy darksome gloomy reign
May cloud the thought, and sour the min',
Yet where the Bard does soarin' shine,
Wi' witchin' art,
Thou thrill'st the feelin's there mair fine,
And men'st the heart.
May cloud the thought, and sour the min',
Yet where the Bard does soarin' shine,
Wi' witchin' art,
Thou thrill'st the feelin's there mair fine,
And men'st the heart.
Thy gentle touch shall aften tend
To endear the lover and the friend;
To lofty reason aid thou'lt lend,
And maxims meet,
And beauty's saftest smile wilt blend
Wi' something sweet.
To endear the lover and the friend;
To lofty reason aid thou'lt lend,
And maxims meet,
And beauty's saftest smile wilt blend
Wi' something sweet.
Thou teachest wordly cares are vain;
Thou winn'st our thoughts frae sordid gain;
Thou gar'st us feel for ithers' pain,
In sorrows sinkin',
And point'st frae thoughtless Folly's train
To sober thinkin'.
Thou winn'st our thoughts frae sordid gain;
Thou gar'st us feel for ithers' pain,
In sorrows sinkin',
And point'st frae thoughtless Folly's train
To sober thinkin'.
| The poetical works of William Nicholson | |