Though anxious and timeless his life was expended, ADDRESSED TO RANALD MACDONALD, ESQ., OF STaffa,” 1814. STAFFA, sprung from high Macdonald, Letter in Verse ON THE VOYAGE WITH THE COMMISSIONERS OF "OF the letters which Scott wrote to his friends during those happy six weeks, I have recovered only one, and it is, thanks to the leisure of the yacht, in verse. The strong and easy heroics of A thousand years hence hearts shall bound at their the first section prove, I think, that Mr. Canning story, did not err when he told him that if he chose he And hallow the goblet that flows to their fame. might emulate even Dryden's command of that 1 "On the 30th of July, 1814, Mr. Hamilton, Mr. Erskine,† and Mr. Duff, Commissioners, along with Mr. (now Sir) Walter Scott, and the writer, visited the Lighthouse; the Commissioners being then on one of their voyages of Inspection, noticed in the Introduction. They breakfasted in the Library, when Sir Walter, at the entreaty of the party, upon inscribing his name in the Album, added these interesting lines."-STEVENSON'S Account of the Bell-Rock Lighthouse, 1824. Scott's Diary of the Voyage is now published in the 4th volume of his Life. 2 These lines were written in the Album, kept at the Sound of Ulva Inn in the month of August, 1814. Afterwards Sir Reginald Macdonald Stewart Seton of Staffa, Allanton, and Touch, Baronet. He died 16th April, 1838, in his 61st year. The reader will find a warm tribute to Staffa's character as a Highland landlord, in Scott's article on Sir John Carr's Caledonian Sketches.-Miscellaneous Prose Works, vol. xix. The late Robert Hamilton, Esq., Advocate, long Sheriff-Depute of Lanarkhsire, and afterwards one of the Principal Clerks of Session in Scotland-died in 1831. ↑ Afterwards Lord Kinneder. The late Adam Duff, Esq., Sheriff-Depute of the county of Edinburgh. noble measure; and the dancing anapasts of the second, show that he could with equal facility have rivalled the gay graces of Cotton, Anstey, or Moore."-LOCKHART, Life, vol. iv. p. 372. &c. &c. &c. To moor his fishing-craft by Bressay's shore, TO HIS GRACE THE DUKE OF BUCCLEUCH, Proves each wild frolic that in wine has birth, And wakes the land with brawls and boisterous mirth. Lighthouse Yacht in the Sound of Lerwick, HEALTH to the chieftain from his clansman true! From her true minstrel, health to fair Buccleuch! Health from the isles, where dewy Morning weaves Her chaplet with the tints that Twilight leaves; Where late the sun scarce vanish'd from the sight, And his bright pathway graced the short-lived night, Though darker now as autumn's shades extend, The north winds whistle and the mists ascend! Health from the land where eddying whirlwinds toss The storm-rock'd cradle of the Cape of Noss; Here, by each stormy peak and desert shore, A wretched pittance from the niggard main. Yet even these coasts a touch of envy gain From those whose land has known oppression's chain; For here the industrious Dutchman comes once more A sadder sight on yon poor vessel's prow sprung. Not thus of old the Norsemen hither came, power; For ne'er for Grecia's vales, nor Latian land, Was fiercer strife than for this barren strand; A race severe-the isle and ocean lords, Loved for its own delight the strife of swords; With scornful laugh the mortal pang defied, And blest their gods that they in battle died. Such were the sires of Zetland's simple race, And still the eye may faint resemblance trace In the blue eye, tall form, proportion fair, The limbs athletic, and the long light hair(Such was the mien, as Scald and Minstrel sings, Of fair-hair'd Harold, first of Norway's Kings); But their high deeds to scale these crags confined, Their only warfare is with waves and wind. Why should I talk of Mousa's castled coast! While down the cabin skylight lessening shine Such are the lays that Zetland Isles supply: Drench'd with the drizzly spray and dropping y Weary and wet, a sea-sick minstrel L-W sout If your Grace thinks I'm writing the thing that is The anchor's a-peak, and the breezes are blowing: not, You may ask at a namesake of ours, Mr. Scott(He's not from our clan, though his merits de serve it, But springs, I'm inform'd, from the Scotts of Scot starvet);1 He question'd the folks who beheld it with eyes, more Those of eyesight more clear, or of fancy more high, Said it rose lik an island 'twixt ocean and skyBut all of the hulk had a steady opinion That 'twas sure a live subject of Neptune's do minion And I think, my Lord Duke, your Grace hardly would wish, To cumber your house, such a kettle of fish. Had your order related to night-caps or hose, Or mittens of worsted, there's plenty of those. Or would you be pleased but to fancy a whale? And direct me to send it-by sea or by mail? The season, I'm told, is nigh over, but still I could get you one fit for the lake at Bowhill. Ina ed, as to whales, there's no need to be thrifty, Since one day last fortnight two hundred and fifty, Pursued by seven Orkneymen's boats and no more, Betwixt Truffness and Luffness were drawn on the shore! You'll ask if I saw this same wonderful sight; For this mighty shoal of leviathans lay On our lee-beam a mile, in the loop of the bay, And the islesmen of Sanda were all at the spoil, And flinching (so term it) the blubber to boil; (Ye spirits of lavender, drown the reflection That awakes at the thoughts of this odorous dissection). 1 The Scotts of Scotstarvet, and other families of the name in Fife and elsewhere, claim no kindred with the great clan of the Border, and their armorial bearings are different But distant winds began to wake, O'er furrow'd brow and blacken'd cheek, (3.)-DAVIE GELLATLEYS SONG. "HE (Daft Davie Gellatley) sung with grea earnestness, and not without some taste, a frag ment of an old Scotch ditty:" False love, and hast thou play'd me this I will repay thee back again As you with other maidens rove, I'll smile on other men. "This is a genuine ancient fragment, with some alteration in the last two lines." |