Imágenes de páginas

Epilogue to the appeal.

was about to depart upon a distant and dangerous et

pedition. The Minstrel was impressed with a belief, SPOKEN BY MRS. HENRY SIDDONS,

which the event verified, that he was to be slain in the FEB, 16, 1818.

approaching feud ; and hence the Gaelic words, “ Cha

till mi tuille ; ged thillis Macleod, cha till MackrimA cat of yore (or else old Æsop lied)


,I shall never return; although Macleod reWas changed into a fair and blooming bride,

turns, yet Mackrimmon shall never return!" The But spied a mouse upon her marriage-day,

piece is but too well known, from its being the strain Forgot her spouse, and seized upon her prey;

with which the emigrants from the West Highlands and Even thus my bridegroom lawyer, as you saw,

Isles usually take leave of their native shore.
Threw off poor me, and pounced upon papa.
His neck from Hymen’s mystic knot made loose,
He twisted round my sire's the literal noose.
Such are the fruits of our dramatic labour
Since the New Jail became our next-door neighbour.?

MACLEOD's wizard flag from the grey castle sallies, Yes, times are changed; for, in your fathers' age,

The rowers are seated, unmoor’d are the galleys; The lawyers were the patrons of the stage;

Gleam war-axe and broadsword, clang target and However high advanced by future fate,

quiver, There stands the bench (points to the Pit) that first As Mackrimmon sings, “ Farewell to Dunvegan for received their weight.

ever! The future legal sage, 'twas ours to see,

Farewell to each cliff, on which breakers are foamDoom though unwigg'd, and plead without a fee.


Farewell, each dark glen, in which red-deer are roam. But now, astounding each poor mimic elf, Instead of lawyers comes the law herself;

Farewell, lonely Skye, to lake, mountain, and river; Tremendous neighbour, on our right she dwells,

Macleod may return, but Mackrimmon shall never! Builds high her towers and excavates her cells; While on the left she agitates the town,

“ Farewell the bright clouds that on Quillan are With the tempestuous question, Up or down ? 3

sleeping; "Twixt Scylla and Charybdis thus stand we,

Farewell the bright eyes in the Dun that are weepLaw's final end, and law's uncertainty.

ing; But, soft! who lives at Rome the Pope must flatter, To each minstrel delusion, farewell !-and for ever And jails and lawsuits are no jesting matter. Mackrimmon departs, to return to you never ! Then-just farewell! We wait with serious awe The Banshee's wild voice sings the death-dirge before Till your applause or censure gives the law. Trusting our humble efforts may assure ye,

The pall of the dead for a mantle hangs o'er me; We hold you Court and Counsel, Judge and Jury. But my heart shall not flag, and my nerves shall not

Though devoted I go-to return again never!



Mackrimman's Lament."


« Too oft shall the notes of Mackrimmon's bewail

Be heard when the Gael on their exile are sailing;
Dear land! to the shores, whence unwilling we

Return-return-return shall we never!

Cha till, cha till, cha till sin tuille !
Cha till, cha till, cha till sin tuille,
Cha till, cha till, cha till sin tuille,
Gea thillis Macleod, cha till Mackrimmon!”

AIR-" Cha till mi tuille." 5

Mackrimmon, hereditary piper to the Laird of Macleod,

is said to have composed this Lament when the Clan

I "The Appeal," a Tragedy, by John Galt, the celebrated by a lawsuit betwixt the Magistrates and many of the Inhabiauthor of the “Annals of the Parish," and other Novels, was tants of the City, concerning a range of new buildings on the played for four nights at this time in Edinburgh.

western side of the North Bridge ; which the latter insisted ? It is necessary to mention, that the allusions in this piece should be removed as a deformity. are all local, and addressed only to the Edinburgh audience.

4 Written for Albyn's Anthology. The new prisons of the city, on the Calton Hill, are not far from the theatre.

5 “We return no more." a At this time the public of Edinburgh was much agitated 6 See a note on Banshee, Lady of the Lake, ante, p. 242.

Steek the amrie, lock the kist, Donald Caird's Come again.'

Else some gear may weel be mis't ;

Donald Caird finds orra things
AIR-"Malcolm Caird's come again." ?

Where Allan Gregor fand the tinge ;

Dunts of kebbuck, taits o'woo,

Whiles a hen and whiles a sow,
Webs or duds frae hedge or yard-

'Ware the wuddie, Donald Caird!
Donald CAIRD's come again!
Donald Caird's come again!

Donald Caird's come again!

Donald Caird's come again!
Tell the news in brugh and glen,
Donald Cuird's come again!

Dinna let the Shirra ken

Donald Caird's come again.
Donald Caird can lilt and sing,

On Donald Caird the doom was stern,
Blithely dance the Hieland fling,
Drink till the gudeman be blind,

Craig to tether, legs to airn;
Fleech till the gudewife be kind;

But Donald Caird, wi' mickle study,
Hoop a leglin, clout a pan,

Caught the gift to cheat the wuddie;
Or crack a pow wi' ony man;

Rings of airn, and bolts of steel,
Tell the news in brugh and glen,

Fell like ice frae hand and heel !
Donald Caird's come again.

Watch the sheep in fauld and glen,

Donald Caird's come again!
Donald Caird's come again!

Donald Caird's come again!
Donald Caird's come again!

Donald Caird's come again!
Tell the news in brugh and glen,

Dinna let the Justice ken,
Donald Caird's come again.

Donald Caird's come again.3

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1 Written for Albyn's Anthology, vol. ii., 1818, and set to highly amused with a sly allusion to his two-fold character of music in Mr. Thomson's Collection, in 1822

Sheriff of Selkirkshire, and author-suspect of “ Rob Roy," in 2 Caird signifies Tinker.

the chorus,3 Mr. D. Thomson, of Galashiels, produced a parody on this song at an annual dinner of the manufacturers there,

"Think ye, does the Shirra kon shich Sir Walter Scott usually attended ; and the Poet was

HW dr Gregor's come again."

I glance like the wildfire through country and town; Here little, and hereafter briss,
I'm seen on the causeway-I'm seen on the down;

Is best from age to age.
The lightning that flashes so bright and so free,
Is scarcely so blithe or so bonny as me.

“ As Jeanie entered, she heard first the air, and then

a part of the chorus and words of what had been, What did ye wi' the bridal ring-bridal ring—bridal perhaps, the song of a jolly harvest-home.”

ring? What did ye wi’ your wedding ring, ye little cutty Our work is over- over now,

The goodman wipes his weary brow, I gied it till a sodger, a sodger, a sodger,

The last long wain wends slow away, I gied it till a sodger, an auld true love o' mine, 0.

And we are free to sport and play.

quean, O?

Good even, good fair moon, good even to thee;
I prithee, dear moon, now show to me
The form and the features, the speech and degree,
Of the man that true lover of mine shall be.

The night comes on when sets the sun,
And labour ends when day is done.
When Autumn ’s gone, and Winter 's come,
We hold our jovial harvest-home.

It is the bonny butcher lad,

That wears the sleeves of blue,
He sells the flesh on Saturday,

On Friday that he slew.

There 's a bloodhound ranging Tinwald Wood,

There 's harness glancing sheen; There's a maiden sits on Tinwald brae,

And she sings loud between.

“ The attendant on the hospital arranged her in her bed as she desired, with her face to the wall, and her back to the light. So soon as she was quiet in this new position, she began again to sing in the same low and modulated strains, as if she was recovering the state of abstraction which the interruption of her visitants had disturbed. The strain, however, was different, and rather resembled the music of the methodist hymns, though the measure of the song was similar to that of the former:"

Up in the air,
On my bonnie grey mare,
And I see, and I see, and I see her yet.

In the bonnie cells of Bedlam,

Ere I was ane and twenty,
I had hempen bracelets strong,
And merry whips, ding-dong,

And prayer and fasting plenty.

When the fight of grace is fought,-
When the marriage vest is wrought,-
When Faith has chased cold Doubt away,–
And Hope but sickens at delay,-
When Charity, imprisoned here,
Longs for a more expanded sphere;
Doff thy robs of sin and clay;
Christian, rise, and come away.

My banes are buried in yon kirk-yard

Sae far ayont the sea,
And it is but my blithsome ghaist

That's speaking now to thee.

“ Her next seemed to be the fragment of some old ballad :"

I'm Madge of the country, I'm Madge of the town,
And I'm Madge of the lad I am blithest to own-
The Lady of Beever in diamonds may shine,
But has not a heart half so lightsome as mine.

Cauld is my bed, Lord Archibald,

And sad my sleep of sorrow:
But thine sall be as sad and cauld,

My fause true-love! to-morrow.

I am Queen of the Wake, and I'm Lady of May,
And I lead the blithe ring round the May-pole to-

The wild-fire that flasbes so fair and so free
Was never so bright, or so bonnie as me.

And weep ye not, my maidens free,

Though death your mistress borrow;
For he for whom 1 die to-day,

Shall die for me to-morrow

“ Again she changed the tune to one wilder, less monotonous, and less regular. But of the words only a fragment or two could be collected by those who listened to this singular scene:"

He that is down need fear no fall,

He that is low no pride;
He that is humble ever shall

Have God to be his guide.

fulness to such a burthen is

That go on pilgrimage ;

Proud Maisie is in the wood,

Walking so early;
Sweet Robin sits on the bush,

Singing so rarely.

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“ And humming his rustic roundelay, the yeoman

went on his road, the sound of his rough voice gradu. (1.)–CHAP. XIX.

ally dying away as the distance betwixt them inTo man, in this his trial state,

The privilege is given,
When lost by tides of human fate,

The monk must arise when the matins ring,
To anchor fast in Heaven.

The abbot may sleep to their chime;
WattsHymns. But the yeoman must start when the bugles sing,

'Tis time, my hearts, 'tis time.
Law, take thy victim !- May she find the mercy There's bucks and raes on Billbope braes,
In yon mild heaven which this hard world denies

• There 's a herd on Shortwood Shaw; her!

But a lily white doe in the garden goes,

She 's fairly worth them a'. (3.)--CHAP. XXVII.

Chup. iii.
And Need and Misery, Vice and Danger, bind
In sad alliance, each degraded mind.

(4.)--CHAP. XXXT.
I beseech you -

“ With a quivering voice, and a cheek pale with These tears beseech you, and these chaste hands apprehension, Caleb faltered out the following lines:”

woo you, That never yet were heaved but to things holy

When the last Laird of Ravenswood to Ravenswood

shall ride,
Things like yourself—You are a God above us;
Be as a God, then, full of saving mercy!

And wooe a dead maiden to be his bride,
The Bloody Brother.

He shall stable his steed in the Kelpie's flow,

And his name shall be lost for evermoe! (5.)--CHAP. XLVI.

Chap. xvii,
Happy thou art! then happy be,

Nor envy me my lot;
Thy happy state I envy thee.

And peaceful cot.

(1.)-CHAP. VIII. Lady C-Cl.

The hearth in hall was black and dead,

No board was dight in bower within,

Nor merry bowl nor welcome bed;

thirty inches in height, she accompanied it with her “ Here 's sorry cheer,” quoth the Heir of Linne. voice. The air was an ancient Gaelic melody, and the

Old Ballad,

words, which were supposed to be very old, were in [Altered from The Heir of Linne.”] the same language; but we subjoin a translation of

them, by Secundus M‘Pherson, Esq. of Glenforgen; (2.)-CHAP. xiv.

which, although submitted to the fetters of English As, to the Autumn breeze's bugle-sound,

rhythm, we trust will be found nearly as genuine as Various and vague the dry leaves dance their round; the version of Ossian by his celebrated namesake.” Or, from the garner-door, on æther borne, The chaff Aies devious from the winnow'd corn;

1. So vague, so devious, at the breath of heaven,

Birds of omen dark and foul, From their fix'd aim are mortal counsels driven. Night-crow, raven, bat, and owl,

Anonymous. Leave the sick man to his dream
(3.)–CHAP. XVII.

All night long he heard you scream.
Here is a father now,

Haste to cave and ruin's tower,
Will truck his daughter for a foreign venture,

Ivy tod, or dingled-bower, Make her the stop-gap to some canker'd feud,

There to wink and mop, for, hark !
Or fling her o'er, like Jonah, to the fishes,

In the mid air sings the lark.
To appease the sea at highest.


Hie to moorish gills and rocks, (4.)-CHAP. XVIII.

Prowling wolf and wily fox,Sir, stay at home and take an old man's counsel: Hie ye fast, nor turn your view, Seek not to bask you by a stranger's hearth;

Though the lamb bleats to the ewe.
Our own blue smoke is warmer than their fire.

Couch your trains, and speed your flight,
Domestic food is wholesome, though 'tis homely, Safety parts with parting night;
And foreign dainties poisonous, though tasteful. And on distant echo borne,

The French Courtezan. Comes the hunter's early horn.

(5.)-CHAP. xxv. True love, an’thou be true,

Thou has ane kittle part to play, For fortune fashion, fancy, and thou

Maun strive ior many a day.

The moon's wan crescent scarcely gleams,
Ghost-like she fades in morning beams;
Hie hence, each peevish imp and fay
That scare the pilgrim on his way.-
Quench, kelpy! quench, in bog and fen,
Thy torch, that cheats benighted men;
Thy dance is o'er, thy reign is done,
For Benyieglo hath seen the sun.

I've kend by mony friend's tale,

Far better by this heart of mine, What time and change of fancy avail, A true love-knote to untwine.


Why, now I have Dame Fortune by the forelock,
And if she 'scapes my grasp, the fault is mine;
He that hath buffeted with stern adversity,
Best knows to shape bis course to favouring breezes.

Old Play.

Wild thoughts, that, sinful, dark, and deep,
O’erpower the passive mind in sleep,
Pass from the slumberer's soul away,
Like night-mists from the brow of day :
Foul hag, whose blasted visage grim
Smothers the pulse, unnerves the limb,
Spur thy dark palfrey, and begone!
Thou darest not face the godlike sun.

Ckap. vi.

The Legend of Montrose.


“ TUNING her instrument, and receiving an assenting “ So saying, Annot Lyle sate down at a little dis- look from Lord Monteith and Allan, Annot Lyle exetance upon the bench on which Allan M'Aulay was cuted the following ballad, which our friend, Mr. placed, and tuning her clairshach, a small harp, about Secundus M'Pherson, whose goodness we had before

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