How painful the task
The sad tidings to tell you! An orphan you were
Ere this misery befell you; And far in yon wild,
Where the dead-tapers hover, So cold, cold and wan,
Lies the corpse of your lover!
James Hogg.-Born 1772, Died 1835.
Bonny Kilmeny gaed up the glen; But it wasna to meet Duneira's men, Nor the rosy monk of the isle to see, For Kilmeny was pure as pure could be. It was only to hear the Yorlin sing, And pu' the cress-flower round the springThe scarlet hypp, and the hind berry, And the nut that hung frae the hazel-tree; For Kilmeny was pure as pure could be. But lang may her minny look o'er the wa', And lang may she seek i' the green-wood shaw;
Lang the laird of Duneira blame,
And lang, lang greet or Kilmeny come hame.
When many a day had come and fled, When grief grew calm, and hope was dead, When mass for Kilmeny's soul had been sung, When the bedes-man had pray'd, and the dead
Late, late in a gloamin, when all was still,
When the fringe was red on the westlin hil.,
The wood was sere, the moon i' the wane,
The reek o' the cot hung over the plain-
Like a little wee cloud in the world its lane-
When the ingle low'd with an eiry leme,
Late, late in the gloamin Kilmeny came hame!
"Kilmeny, Kilmeny, where have you been?
Lang hae we sought both holt and den-
By linn, by ford, and green-wood tree;
Yet you are halesome and fair to see.
Where got you that joup o' the lily sheen?
That bonny snood of the birk sae green?
And these roses, the fairest that ever was
seen ?
Kilmeny, Kilmeny, where have you been?"
Kilmeny look'd up with a lovely grace, But nae smile was seen on Kilmeny's face: As still was her look, and as still was her e'e, As the stillness that lay on the emerant lea, Or the mist that sleeps on a waveless sea. For Kilmeny had been she knew not where, And Kilmeny had seen what she could not declare ;
Kilmeny had been where the cock never crew, Where the rain never fell, and the wind never blew ;
But it seem'd as the harp of the sky had rung,
And the airs of heaven play'd round her tongue,
When she spake of the lovely forms she had
And a land where sin had never been-
A land of love, and a land of light,
Withouten sun, or moon, or night;
Where the river swa'd a living stream,
And the light a pure celestial beam:
The land of vision it would seem,
A still, an everlasting dream.
In yon green-wood there is a waik,
And in that waik there is a wene,
And in that wene there is a maike, That neither has flesh, blood, nor bane ; And down in yon green-wood he walks his lane.
In that green wene, Kilmeny lay, Her bosom happ'd wi' the flowerets gay; But the air was soft, and the silence deep, And bonny Kilmeny fell sound asleep; She kenn'd nae mair, nor open'd her e'e, Till waked by the hymns of a far countrye.
She 'waken'd on a couch of the silk sae slim, All striped wi' the bars of the rainbow's rim And lovely beings around were rife,
Who erst had travell'd mortal life; And aye they smiled, and 'gan to speer: "What spirit has brought this mortal here!"
Lang have I journey'd the world wide," A meek and reverend fere replied; "Baith night and day I have watch'd the fair Eident a thousand years and mair. Yes, I have watch'd o'er ilk degree, Wherever blooms femenitye; But sinless virgin, free of stain, In mind and body, fand I nane. Never, since the banquet of time, Found I a virgin in her prime, Till late this bonny maiden I saw, As spotless as the morning snaw. Full twenty years she has lived as free As the spirits that sojourn in this countrye. I have brought her away frae the snares of
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And round came many a blooming fere,
Saying, "Bonny Kilmeny, ye're welcome here;
Women are freed of the littand scorn;
O, blest be the day Kilmeny was born!
Now shall the land of the spirits see,
Now shall it ken, what a woman may be !
Many a lang year in sorrow and pain,
Many a lang year through the world we've
gane,
Commission'd to watch fair womankind,
For it's they who nurice the immortal mind.
We have watch'd their steps as the dawning
shone,
And deep in the green-wood walks alone;
By lily bower and silken bed
The viewless tears have o'er them shed;
Have soothed their ardent minds to sleep, Or left the couch of love to weep.
We have seen! we have seen! but the time must come,
And the angels will weep at the day of doom!
"O, would the fairest of mortal kind Aye keep the holy truths in mind, That kindred spirits their motions see, Who watch their ways with anxious e'e, And grieve for the guilt of humanitye! O, sweet to heaven the maiden's prayer, And the sigh that heaves a bosom sae fair! And dear to heaven the words of truth And the praise of virtue frae beauty's mouth! And dear to the viewless forms of air, The minds that kythe as the body fair!
"O, bonny Kilmeny! free frac stain, If ever you seek the world againThat world of sin, of sorrow and fearO, tell of the joys that are waiting here; And tell of the signs you shall shortly see: Of the times that are now, and the times that shall be."
They lifted Kilmeny, they led her away,
And she walk'd in the light of a sunless day;
The sky was a dome of crystal bright,
The fountain of vision, and fountain of light;
The emerald fields were of dazzling glow,
And the flowers of everlasting blow.
Then deep in the stream her body they laid,
That her youth and beauty never might fade;
And they smiled on heaven, when they saw her
lie
In the stream of life that wander'd by.
And she heard a song-she heard it sung,
She kenn'd not where; but sae sweetly it rung,
It fell on her ear like a dream of the morn-
"O! blest be the day Kilmeny was born!
Now shall the land of the spirits see,
Now shall it ken, what a woman may be!
The sun that shines on the world sae bright,
A borrow'd gleid frae the fountain of light;
And the moon that sleeks the sky sae dun,
Like a gouden bow, or a beamless sun-
Shall wear away, and be seen nae mair;
And the angels shall miss them, travelling the
air.
But lang, lang after baith night and day,
When the sun and the world have died away,
When the sinner has gane to his waesome
doom,
Kilmeny shall smile in eternal bloom !"
They bore her away, she wist not how, For she felt not arm nor rest below;
But so swift they wain'd her through the light,
'Twas like the motion of sound or sight;
They seem'd to split the gales of air,
And yet nor gale nor breeze was there.
Unnumber'd groves below them grew;
They came, they past, and backward flew,
Like floods of blossoms gliding on,
In moment seen, in moment gone.
O, never vales to mortal view
Appear'd like those o'er which they flew
That land to human spirits given,
The lowermost vales of the storied heaven;
From whence they can view the world below,
And heaven's blue gates with sapphires glow-
More glory yet unmeet to know.
They bore her far to a mountain green, To see what mortal never had seen; And they seated her high on a purple sward, And bade her heed what she saw and heard, And note the changes the spirits wrought; For now she lived in the lard of thought. She look'd, and she saw nor sun nor skies, But a crystal dome of a thousand dyes; She look'd, and she saw nae land aright, But an endless whirl of glory and light; And radiant beings went and came, Far swifter than wind, or the linkèd flame; She hid her cen frae the dazzling view; She look'd again, and the scene was new.
She saw a sun on a summer sky, And clouds of amber sailing by ;
A lovely land beneath her lay,
And that land had glens and mountains gray;
And that land had valleys and hoary piles,
And marlèd seas, and a thousand isles;
Its fields were speckled, its forests green,
And its lakes were all of the dazzling sheen,
Like magic mirrors, where slumbering lay
The sun and the sky and the cloudlet gray,
Which heaved and trembled, and gently swung;
On every shore they seem'd to be hung;
For there they were seen on their downward
plain
A thousand times and a thousand again;
In winding lake and placid firth-
Little peaceful heavens in the bosom of earth.
Kilmeny sigh'd and seem'd to grieve,
For she found her heart to that land did cleave;
She saw the corn wave on the vale;
She saw the deer run down the dale;
She saw the plaid and the broad claymore,
And the brows that the badge of freedom bore;
And she thought she had seen the land before.
She saw a lady sit on a throne,
The fairest that ever the sun shone on!
A lion lick'd her hand of milk,
And she held him in a leish of silk,
And a leifu' maiden stood at her knee,
With a silver wand and melting e'e-
Her sovereign shield, till Love stole in,
And poison'd all the fount within.
Then a gruff, untoward bedes-man came,
And hundit the lion on his dame;
And the guardian maid wi' the dauntless e'e,
She dropp'd a tear and left her knee;
And she saw till the queen frae the lion fled,
Till the bonniest flower of the world lay dead;
A coffin was set on a distant plain,
And she saw the red blood fall like rain.
Then bonny Kilmeny's heart grew sair,
And she turn'd away, and could look nae mair
Then the gruff, grim carle girnéd amain,
And they trampled him down-but he rose
again;
And he baited the lion to deeds of weir,
Till he lapp'd the blood to the kingdom dear:
And, weening his head was danger-preef
When crown'd with the rose and clover leaf,
He growl'd at the carle, and chased him away
To feed wi' the deer on the mountain gray.
He growl'd at the carlo, and he geck'd at
Heaven;
But his mark was set, and his arles given.
Kilmeny a while her een withdrew;
She look'd again, and the scene was new.
She saw below her, fair unfurl'd,
One half of all the glowing world,
Where oceans roll'd and rivers ran,
To bound the aims of sinful man.
She saw a people fierce and fell,
Burst frae their bounds like fiends of hell;
There lilies grew, and the eagle flew ;
And she herkèd on her ravening crew,
Till the cities and towers were wrapt in a blaze,
And the thunder it roar'd o'er the lands and
the seas.
The widows they wail'd, and the red blood ran,
And she threaten'd an end to the race of man;
She never lened, nor stood in awe,
Till caught by the lion's deadly paw
Oh! then the eagle swink'd for life,
And brainzell'd up a mortal strife;
But flew she north, or flew she south,
She met wi' the growl of the lion's mouth.
With a mooted wing and waefu' maen,
The eagle sought her eiry again;
But lang may she cower in her bloody nes.,
And lang, lang sleek her wounded breast,
Before she sey another flight,
To play wi' the norland lion's might.
But to sing the sights Kilmeny saw,
So far surpassing Nature's law,
The singer's voice wad sink away,
And the string of his harp wad cease to play.
But she saw till the sorrows of man were by,
And all was love and harmony;
Till the stars of heaven fell calmly away,
Like the flakes of snaw on a winter's day.
Then Kilmeny begg'd again to see
The friends she had left in her own countrye,
To tell of the place where she had been,
And the glories that lay in the land unseen;
To warn the living maidens fair,
The loved of Heaven, the spirits' care,
That all whose minds unmeled remain
Shall bloom in beauty when Time is gane.
With distant music, soft and deep,
They lull'd Kilmeny sound asleep;
And when she awaken'd, she lay her lane,
All happ'd with flowers in the green-wood
When seven long years had come and fled;
When grief was calm, and hope was dead;
When scarce was remember'd Kilmeny's name,
Late, late in a gloamin, Kilmeny came hame!
And O, her beauty was fair to see,
But still and steadfast was her e'e!
Such beauty bard may never declare,
For there was no pride nor passion there;
And the soft desire of maidens' een,
In that mild face conld never be seen.
Her seymar was the lily flower,
And her cheek the moss-rose in the shower;
And her voice like the distant melodye
That floats along the twilight sea.
But she loved to raike the lanely glen,
And keepèd afar frae the haunts of men;
Her holy hymns unheard to sing,
To suck the flowers and drink the spring.
But wherever her peaceful form appear'd,
The wild beasts of the hills were cheer'd;
The wolf play'd blithely round the field,
The lordly bison low'd and kneel'd;
The dun deer woo'd with manner bland,
And cower'd aneath her lily hand.
And when at even the woodlands rung,
When hymns of other worlds she sung
In ecstasy of sweet devotion,
Oh, then the glen was all in motion !
The wild beasts of the forest came,
Broke from their bughts and faulds the tame,
And goved around, charm'd and amazed;
Even the dull cattle croon'd and gazed,
And murmur'd and look'd with anxious pain,
For something the mystery to explain.
The buzzard came with the throstle-cock,
The corby left her houf in the rock;
The blackbird alang wi' the eagle flew ;
The hind came tripping o'er the dew;
The wolf and the kid their raike began;
And the tod, and the lamb, and the leveret ran;
The hawk and the hern attour them hung,
And the merl and the mavis forhooy'd their
And all in a peaceful ring were hurl'd:
It was like an eve in a sinless world!
When a month and day had come and gane,
Kilmeny sought the green-wood wene;
There laid her down on the leaves sae green,
And Kilmeny on earth was never mair seen.
But oh, the words that fell from her mouth
Were words of wonder, and words of truth!
But all the land were in fear and dread,
For they kenn'd na whether she was living or
dead.
It wasna her hame, and she couldna remain;
She left this world of sorrow and pain,
And return'd to the land of thought again.
James Hogg.-Born 1772, Died 1835.
1616.-TO THE COMET OF 1811.
How lovely is this wilder'd scene,
As twilight from her vaults so blue
Steals soft o'er Yarrow's mountains green,
Tc sleep embalm'd in midnight dew!
All hail, ye hills, whose towering height,
Like shadows, scoops the yielding sky!
And thou, mysterious guest of night,
Dread traveller of immensity!
Stranger of heaven! I bid thee hail!
Shred from the pall of glory riven,
That flashest in celestial gale,
Broad pennon of the King of Heaven!
Art thou the flag of woe and death,
From angel's ensign-staff unfurl'd?
Art thou the standard of his wrath
Waved o'er a sordid sinful world?
No, from that pure pellucid beam,
'That erst o'er plains of Bethlem shone, No latent evil we can deem,
Bright herald of the eternal throne!
Whate'er portends thy front of fire,
Thy streaming locks so lovely pale-
Or peace to man, or judgments dire,
Stranger of heaven, I bid thee hail!
Where hast thou roam'd these thousand years?
Why sought these polar paths again,
From wilderness of glowing spheres,
To fling thy vesture o'er the wain ?
And when thou scalest the Milky Way,
And vanishest from human view,
A thousand worlds shall hail thy ray
Through wilds of yon empyreal blue!
Oh! on thy rapid prow to glide!
To sail the boundless skies with thee,
And plough the twinkling stars aside,
Like foam-bells on a tranquil sea!
To brush the embers from the sun,
The icicles from off the pole ;
Then far to other systems run,
Where other moons and planets roll!
Stranger of heaven! O let thine eye
Smile on a rapt enthusiast's dream;
Eccentric as thy course on high,
And airy as thine ambient beam!
And long, long may thy silver ray
Our northern arch at eve adorn;
Then, wheeling to the east away,
Light the gray portals of the morn!
James Hogg.-Born 1772, Died 1835.
1617.-HAME, HAME, HAME.
Hame, hame, hame, hame fain wad I be,
O hame, hame, hame, to my ain countrie!
When the flower is i' the bud, and the leaf is
on the tree,
The larks shall sing me hame in my ain countrie;
Hame, hame, hame, hame fain wad I be,
O hame, hame, hame, to my ain countrie!
My breast can scarce contain my heart,
When dancing she moves finely O;
I guess what heaven is by her eyes,
They sparkle sae divinely O;
My Nanie O, my Nanie O;
The flower o' Nithsdale's Nanie O;
Love looks frae 'neath her long brown hair,
And says, I dwell with Nanie O.
Tell not, thou star at gray daylight,
O'er Tinwald-top so bonnie O,
My footsteps 'mang the morning dew
When coming frae my Nanie 0;
My Nanie O, my Nanie O;
Nane ken o' me and Nanie O;
The stars and moon may tell't aboon, They winna wrang my Nanie O!
Allan Cunningham.-Born 1784, Died 1842.
Let nane tell my father,
Or my mither sae dear,
I'll meet them baith in heaven
At the spring o' the year.
Allan Cunningham.-Born 1784 Died 1842.
To shift my sheep their lair."
Ac stride or twa took the silly auld carle,
An' a gude lang stride took he:
"I trow thou to be a feck auld carle,
Will ye shaw the way to me?"
And he has gane wi' the silly auld carle,
Adown by the greenwood side;
"Light down and gang, thou sodger gentleman, For here ye canna ride."
He drew the reins o' his bonnie gray steed,
An' lightly down he sprang:
Of the comeliest scarlet was his weir coat,
Whare the gowden tassels hang.
He has thrown aff his plaid, the silly auld carle,
An' his bonnet frae 'boon his bree;
An' wha was it but the young Maxwell!
An' his gude brown sword drew he!
"Thou kill'd my father, thou vile Southron
An' ye kill'd my brethren three!
Whilk brake the heart o' my ae sister,
I loved as the light o' my e'e!
Draw out yere sword, thou vile Southron !
Red wat wi' blude o' my kin!
That sword it crapp'd the bonniest flower
E'er lifted its head to the sun!
There's ae sad stroke for my dear old father!
There's twa for my brethren three!
An' there's ane to thy heart for my ae sister,
Wham I loved as the light o' my ee."
Allan Cunningham.-Born 1784, Died 1842.
1621.-SHE'S GANE TO DWELL IN
HEAVEN.
She's gane to dwall in heaven, my lassie,
She's gane to dwall in heaven:
Ye're owre pure, quo' the voice o' God,
For dwalling out o' heaven!
O what'll she do in heaven, my lassie ?
O what'll she do in heaven?
She'll mix her ain thoughts wi' angels' sangs,
An' make them mair meet for heaven.
She was beloved by a', my lassie,
She was beloved by a';
But an angel fell in love wi' her,
An' took her frae us a'.
Low there thou lies, my lassie,
Low there thou lies;
A bonnier form ne'er went to the yird,
Nor frae it will arise!
Fu' soon I'll follow thee, my lassic,
Fu' soon I'll follow thee;
Thou left me nought to covet ahin',
But took gudeness sel' wi' thee.
I look'd on thy death-cold face, my lassie,
I look'd on thy death-cold face;
Thou seem'd a lily new cut i' the bud,
An' fading in its place.
I look'd on thy death-shut eye, my lassie,
I look'd on thy death-shut eye;
An' a lovelier light in the brow of heaven
Fell time shall ne'er destroy.
Thy lips were ruddy and calm, my lassie,
Thy lips were ruddy and calm;
But gane was the holy breath o' heaven
To sing the evening psalm.
There's naught but dust now mine, lassie,
There's naught but dust now mine;
My saul's wi' thee i' the cauld grave,
An' why should I stay behin'!
Allan Cunningham.-Born 1784, Died 1842.
Gane were but the winter-cauld,
And gane were but the snaw,
I could sleep in the wild woods,
Where primroses blaw.
Cauld's the snaw at my head,
And cauld at my feet,
And the finger o' death's at my een,
Closing them to sleep.
1622. THE POET'S BRIDAL-DAY SONG.
Oh! my love 's like the steadfast sun,
Or streams that deepen as they run;
Nor hoary hairs, nor forty years,
Nor moments between sighs and tears-
Nor nights of thought, nor days of pain,
Nor dreams of glory dream'd in vain-
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