University of Virginia Library

With many a mingled “Kirnie-hoo!”
To Calder slow the reapers drew;
Down Roddam's dells the echoes flew.
But when they met the hall before
Cunnion and Heddin gave the roar;
Thrice rose the shouting of the train,
And thrice the mountains rung again;
Then, parting, youthful fancies roam
Upon the coming harvest-home.

The eastern clouds their folds unclose;
The eastern moon in beauty rose.
Already to the music's sound
The granary shook, the reels went round,
And tins with frothing beverage crown'd.
But in her father's cottage shade
Sylvander with his bride yet staid.
Emblem of virgin purity.
Dress'd in a snow-white gown was she;
Genteel, but plain;—no gaudy show
Of frills her form of beauty deck'd;
No ribbands in luxuriant blow,
Quench'd love in youth, in age respect.
Curled her hair in ringlets fine;
The comb that held the raven twine,
Was given by him who fondly press'd
Her to his heart, and thus address'd;—
“My charming Anna! since my soul
First own'd thy beauty's sweet controul,
Yon moon—whose beams of silvery hue
Shine purely through thy window blue—
Hath twelve times, full, o'er heath and lea
Illumed my steps to love and thee.
And wandering back o'er Heddin brae,
Oh! often has that silent ray,
As calm upon the heath it shone,
My heart-felt raptures heard alone!
Thou knowest my heart is only thine,
Then oh! this very night be mine!
So shall yon moon, that witnessed oft
Thy lover's songs at midnight soft,
Light our fond steps, with favouring beam,
To Tweeda's silver-flowing stream.”

“'Twould please me more, my lovely maid!
If legal church-rites meet were paid;
It were my highest joy and pride
To have thee nam'd my bonny bride;
But penury this, alas! denies;—
Yet deem not, Anna! but the ties,
The mutual love, the plighted vow
Are holy and as binding—now—
As if a priest the knot had framed,
And husband, wife, us solemn named.
Why scruple then?—away we go;
Thy hand, my love! come weal or woe!”

“My charming maid! loth would I be
To bring thee into misery;
But he who stills the raven's cry
Will bend on us benignant eye!
And when true Candour sees the lays
I've sung in many a virgin's praise,
In thine, too, love!—the sweetest smile
That e'er did Poet's song beguile—
These lays may bring our humble cot
A competency—happiest lot!
Come then my own, with me advance,
A while we join the merry dance,
Then take the way—Oh glorious night!
O transport! rapture! joy! delight!”

Sylvander waited no reply;
He looked but on his Anna's eye;
He looked but on her flushing cheek,
Nor farther wish'd consent to speak.

Now, arm in arm, the lovers went
To join the scene of merriment.
The high-end door expanded stood,
And all the revelry they viewed:
The candles, from the rafters swung,
Upon the group their radiance flung;
The merry ploughman ranting there,
The lasses shining white and rare,
With ribbands streaming—to and fro
As reeled they mingling—made a show
Like that which ancient bards have told
Of fairies on the midnight wold;
Leading their moonlight revelry
To strains of elfin minstrelsy.
But well Sylvander deemed, I ween,
Was wanting there the fairy Queen,
Until his Anna light along
He led amid the parting throng!

With rural maids, in blooming pride,
The forms were graced on every side.
Were only Roddam's lasses fair,
Were only Roddam's youngsters there?
From every cot and hamlet round
Numbers at Albert's kirn were found.
Nor were they viewed by figure prim,
Importance all from head to limb,
Strutting, as if to make us see
How little little man can be.
Of pleasing mien, and cheerful mood,
One of the throng the master stood;
Handed, himself, the beverage free,
And felt, and own'd he felt the glee.
While his lov'd sister not disdained
To mingle in the mirth that reigned;
Or bid his girls, in sweet amaze,
Skip, blooming, through the novel maze!

His strings the blind musician swept:
Quick o'er the floor the dancers stept;
Arranged was there no modish line,
Where all must wait their turns to shine,
With simpered smile and formal bow;
No polished manners smoothed the brow;
No measured step by master taught;—
With nature's grace, and light as thought,
From end to end, from side to side,
Were skip, and bound, and shuffle, plied.
They reeled—they set; 'twas bliss the while,
Eye glanc'd to eye, and smile met smile.
They reeled—they set, to favourite air
Of “Miss M'Leod,” or “Calder-fair.”
The rafters shook their lights suspended;
As dancing too, the board-floor bended;
The Barrel, in the western nook,
The universal stir partook;
Nor sat unmov'd the jovial core
Who there awak'd the merry roar,
The elder sires, who many a year
Had tasted Albert's harvest cheer.
Joyous they drank, and joyous sent
The ale around sans compliment,
With many a tale, remembered long,
And many a jest and half sung song,
And many a jeer now feigned, but truth,
Flung on the partners of their youth,—
“They heed not them! and yet in sooth,
The poor things must not want;”
Then forth the frothing tins must go
To where the matrons in a row,
Sit, cheery, and enjoy the show
Where sons or daughters flaunt.