The Modern Scottish Minstrel Volume Iii Part 16

JEANIE'S GRAVE.

I saw my true-love first on the banks of queenly Tay, Nor did I deem it yielding my trembling heart away; I feasted on her deep, dark eye, and loved it more and more, For, oh! I thought I ne'er had seen a look so kind before!

I heard my true-love sing, and she taught me many a strain, But a voice so sweet, oh! never shall my cold ear hear again.

In all our friendless wanderings--in homeless penury-- Her gentle song and jetty eye were all unchanged to me.

I saw my true-love fade--I heard her latest sigh; I wept no friv'lous weeping when I closed her lightless eye: Far from her native Tay she sleeps, and other waters lave The markless spot where Ury creeps around my Jeanie's grave.

Move noiseless, gentle Ury! around my Jeanie's bed, And I 'll love thee, gentle Ury! where'er my footsteps tread; For sooner shall thy fairy wave return from yonder sea, Than I forget yon lowly grave, and all it hides from me.

THEY SPEAK O' WILES.

AIR--_"Gin a bodie meet a bodie."_

They speak o' wiles in woman's smiles, An' ruin in her e'e; I ken they bring a pang at whiles That 's unco sair to dree; But mind ye this, the half-ta'en kiss, The first fond fa'in' tear, Is, heaven kens, fu' sweet amends, An' tints o' heaven here.

When two leal hearts in fondness meet, Life's tempests howl in vain; The very tears o' love are sweet When paid with tears again.

Shall hapless prudence shake its pow, Shall cauldrife caution fear, Oh, dinna, dinna droun the lowe, That lichts a heaven here!

What though we 're ca'd a wee before The stale "three score an' ten,"

When Joy keeks kindly at your door, Aye bid her welcome ben.

About yon blissfu' bowers above Let doubtfu' mortals speir; Sae weel ken we that "heaven is love,"

Since love makes heaven here.

THE MITHERLESS BAIRN.[30]

When a' ither bairnies are hush'd to their hame By aunty, or cousin, or frecky grand-dame, Wha stands last and lanely, an' naebody carin'?

'Tis the puir doited loonie--the mitherless bairn!

The mitherless bairn gangs to his lane bed, Nane covers his cauld back, or haps his bare head; His wee hackit heelies are hard as the airn, An' litheless the lair o' the mitherless bairn.

Aneath his cauld brow siccan dreams hover there, O' hands that wont kindly to kame his dark hair; But mornin' brings clutches, a' reckless an' stern, That lo'e nae the locks o' the mitherless bairn!

Yon sister that sang o'er his saftly-rock'd bed Now rests in the mools whare her mammie is laid; The father toils sair their wee bannock to earn, An' kens na' the wrangs o' his mitherless bairn.

Her spirit that pa.s.s'd in yon hour o' his birth, Still watches his wearisome wanderings on earth; Recording in heaven the blessings they earn, Wha couthilie deal wi' the mitherless bairn!

Oh! speak him na' harshly--he trembles the while, He bends to your bidding, and blesses your smile; In their dark hour o' anguish, the heartless shall learn That G.o.d deals the blow for the mitherless bairn!

[30] An Inverury correspondent writes: "Thom gave me the following narrative as to the origin of 'The Mitherless Bairn;' I quote his own words--'When I was livin' in Aberdeen, I was limping roun' the house to my garret, when I heard the greetin' o' a wean. A la.s.sie was thumpin' a bairn, when out cam a big dame, bellowin', "Ye hussie, will ye kick a mitherless bairn!" I hobbled up the stair, and wrote the sang afore sleepin'.'"

THE La.s.s O' KINTORE.

AIR--_"Oh, as I was kiss'd yestreen."_

At hame or afield I am cheerless an' lone, I 'm dull on the Ury, an' droop by the Don; Their murmur is noisy, and fashious to hear, An' the lay o' the lintie fa's dead on my ear.

I hide frae the morn, and whaur naebody sees; I greet to the burnie, an' sich to the breeze; Though I sich till I 'm silly, an' greet till I dee, Kintore is the spot in this world for me.

But the la.s.s o' Kintore, oh! the la.s.s o' Kintore, Be warned awa' frae the la.s.s o' Kintore; There 's a love-luring look that I ne'er kent afore Steals cannily hame to the heart at Kintore.

They bid me forget her, oh! how can it be?

In kindness or scorn she 's ever wi' me; I feel her fell frown in the lift's frosty blue, An' I weel ken her smile in the lily's saft hue.

I try to forget her, but canna forget, I 've liked her lang, an' I aye like her yet; My poor heart may wither, may waste to its core, But forget her, oh never! the la.s.s o' Kintore!

Oh the wood o' Kintore, the holmes o' Kintore!

The love-lichtin' e'e that I ken at Kintore; I 'll wander afar, an' I 'll never look more On the gray glance o' Peggy, or bonnie Kintore!

MY HAMELESS HA'.

Oh! how can I be cheerie in this hameless ha'?

The very sun glints eerie on the gilded wa'; An' aye the nicht sae drearie, Ere the dowie morn daw, Whan I canna win to see you, My Jamie, ava'.

Though mony miles between us, an' far, far frae me, The bush that wont to screen us frae the cauld warl's e'e, Its leaves may waste and wither, But its branches winna fa'; An' hearts may haud thegither, Though frien's drap awa'.

Ye promised to speak o' me to the lanesome moon, An' weird kind wishes to me, in the lark's saft soun'; I doat upon that moon Till my very heart fills fu', An' aye yon birdie's tune Gars me greet for you.

Then how can I be cheerie in the stranger's ha'?

A gowden prison drearie, my luckless fa'!

'Tween leavin' o' you, Jamie, An' ills that sorrow me, I 'm wearie o' the warl', An' carena though I dee.

WILLIAM GLEN.[31]

William Glen, whose name simply has. .h.i.therto been known to the lovers of Scottish song, is ent.i.tled to an honourable place in the song-literature of his country. His progenitors were persons of consideration in the county of Renfrew.[32] His father, Alexander Glen, a Glasgow merchant in the Russian trade, married Jane Burns, sister of the Rev. Dr Burns, minister of Renfrew; and of a family of three sons, the poet was the eldest. He was born in Queen Street, Glasgow, on the 14th of November 1789. In 1803, when the regiment of Glasgow Volunteer Sharp-shooters was formed, he joined the corps as a lieutenant. He afterwards followed the mercantile profession, and engaged in the West India trade. For some time he resided in one of the West India islands. In 1814 he became one of the managers of the "Merchants' House" of Glasgow, and also a director of the "Chamber of Commerce and Manufactures." During the same year, being unfortunate in merchandise, he was induced to abandon the concerns of business. He afterwards derived the means of support from an uncle who resided in Russia; but his circ.u.mstances were ultimately much clouded by misfortune. During the last eight years of his career, his summers were spent at Reinagour, in the parish of Aberfoyle, where he resided with an uncle of his wife. After several years of delicate health, he died in Edwin Place, Gorbals, Glasgow, in December 1826. His widow and daughter continue to reside at Craigmuick, parish of Aberfoyle.

William Glen was about six feet in height; his person, which was originally slender, afterwards became portly. He was of a fair complexion, and his countenance generally wore a smile. His manners were pleasing, and he cherished a keen relish for congenial society. In 1815 he published a thin duodecimo volume of verses, ent.i.tled "Poems, chiefly Lyrical;" but the majority of his metrical compositions seem to have been confined to his repositories. A quarto volume of his MSS., numbered "Volume Third," is now in the possession of Mr Gabriel Neil of Glasgow, who has kindly made it available in the preparation of this work.

Interspersed with the poetry in the MS. volume, are pious reflections on the trials and disappointments incident to human life; with some spirited appeals to those fair ones who at different times had attracted the poet's fancy. Of his songs inserted in the present work, seven have been printed from the MS. volume, and the two last from the printed volume. Four of the songs have not been previously published. The whole are pervaded by simplicity and exquisite pathos. The song, "Waes me for Prince Charlie," is one of the most touching and popular of modern Jacobite ditties.