When first my morn of life was born, the Pean's[37] silver stream Glanced in my eye, and then there lent my view their kinder gleam, The flowers that fringed its side, where, by the fragrant breezes lull'd, As in a cradle-bed I lay, and all my woes were still'd.

But changes will come over us, and now a stranger I Among the glades of Cluaran[38] must imp my wings and fly; Yet grat.i.tude forbid complaint, although in foreign grove, Since welcome to my haunt I come, and there in freedom rove.

By every song-bird charm'd, my ear is fed the livelong day, Now from the hollow's deepest dell, now from the top-most spray, The comrades of my lay, they tune their wild notes for my pleasure, And I, can I refrain to swell their diapason's measure?

With its own cl.u.s.ters loaded, with its rich foliage dress'd, Each bough is hanging down, and each shapely stem depress'd, While nestle there inhabitants, a feather'd tuneful choir, That in the strife of song breathe forth a flame of minstrel fire.

O happy tribe of choristers! no interruption mars The concert of your harmony, nor ever harshly jars A string of all your harping, nor of your voices trill Notes that are weak for tameness, that are for sharpness shrill.

The sun is on his flushing march, his golden hair abroad, It seems as on the mountain's side of beams a furnace glow'd, Now melts the honey from all flowers, and now a dew o'erspreads (A dew of fragrant blessedness) all the gra.s.ses of the meads.

Nor least in my remembrance is my country's flowering heather, Whose russet crest, nor cold, nor sun, nor sweep of gale may wither; Dear to my eye the symbol wild, that loves like me the side Of my own Highland mountains that I climb in love and pride.

Dear tribes of nature! co-mates ye of nature's wandering son-- I hail the lambs that on the floor of milky pastures run, I hail the mother flocks, that, wrapp'd in their mantle of the fleece, Defy the landward tempest's roar, and defy the seaward breeze.

The streams they drink are waters of the ever-gushing well, Those streams, oh, how they wind around the swellings of the dell!

The flowers they browze are mantles spread o'er pastures wide and far, As mantle o'er the firmament the stars, each flower a star!

I will not name each sister beam, but cl.u.s.tering there I see The beauty of the purple-bell, the daisy of the lea.

Of every hue I mark them, the many-spotted kine, The dun, the brindled, and the dark, and blends the bright its shine; And, 'mid the Highlands rude, I see the frequent furrows swell, With the barley and the corn that Scotland loves so well.

And now I close my clannish lay with blessings on the shade That bids the mavis sing her song, well nurtured, undismay'd; The shade where bloom and cresses, and the ear-honey'd heather, Are smiling fair, and dwelling in their brotherhood together; For the sun is setting largely, and blinks my eye its ken; 'T is time to loose the strings, I ween, and close my wild-wood strain.

FOOTNOTES:

[37] The stream that flows through Glen Pean.

[38] The Gaelic name of Clunes, where the bard was entertained for many years of his tutor life.

THE THREE BARDS OF COWAL.[39]

JOHN BROWN.

One of the bards of Cowal is believed to have been born in the parish of Inverchaolain about 1750; his family name was Brun or Broun, as distinguished from the Lowland Brown, which he a.s.sumed. He first appeared as a poet by the publication, at Perth, in 1786, of a small volume of Gaelic poetry, dedicated to the Duke of Montrose. The subsequent portion of his career seems to have been chiefly occupied in genealogical researches. In 1792 he completed, in two large sheets, his "Historical and Genealogical Tree of the Royal Family of Scotland;" of which the second edition bears the date 1811. This was followed by similar genealogical trees of the ill.u.s.trious family of Graham, of the n.o.ble house of Elphinstone, and other families. In these productions he uniformly styles himself, "Genealogist to his R. H. the Prince of Wales, for Scotland." Brown died at Edinburgh in the beginning of the year 1821. He had formed a respectable connexion by marriage, under circ.u.mstances which he has commemorated in the annexed specimen of his poetry, but his latter years were somewhat clouded by misfortune. He is remembered as a solicitor for subscriptions to his genealogical publications.

FOOTNOTES:

[39] Cowal is that portion of Argyllshire bordering the Frith of Clyde, and extending inland to the margin of Lochfine.

THE SISTERS OF DUNOLLY.

The poet had paid his addresses to one of the sisters, but without the consent of her relatives, who ultimately induced her to wed another. After a lapse of time the bard transferred his affection to another daughter of the same distinguished family, and being successful, was compensated for his former trials.

The sundown had mantled Ben Nevis with night, And the stars were attired in the glory of light, And the hope of the lover was shining as day, When Dunolly's fair daughter was sprited away.

Away she has gone at the touch of the helm, And the shadows of darkness her lover o'erwhelm-- But, would that his strength as his purpose was true, At Dunolly, Culloden were battled anew!

Yes! did they give courtesy, did they give time, The kindred of Cowal would meet at the prime, And the _Brunach_[40] would joy, in the succour they gave, To win him a bride, or to win him a grave.

My lost one! I'm not like the laggard thou'st found, Whose puissance scarce carries the sword he has bound; In the flush of my health and my penniless youth, I could well have rewarded thine honour and truth.

Five years they have pa.s.s'd, and the Brunach has shaken The burden of woe that his spirit was breaking; A sister is salving a sister's annoy, And the eyes of the Brunach are treasured with joy.

A bride worth the princesses England is rearing, Comes forth from Dunolly, a star reappearing; If my heart in Dunolly was garner'd before, In Dunolly, my pride and my pleasure is more.

The lowly, the gentle, the graceful, the mild That in friendship or charity never beguiled, She is mine--to Dunduala[41] that traces her stem, As for kings to be proud of, 'tis prouder for them, Though Donald[42] the gracious be head of her line, And "our exiled and dear"[43] in her pedigree shine.

Then hearken, ye men of the country I love!

Despair not, unsmooth though the course of your love, Ere ye yield to your sorrow or die in your folly, May ye find, like the Brunach, another Dunolly.

FOOTNOTES:

[40] Brunach--The Brown, viz., the poet himself.

[41] The Macdougalls of Dunolly claim descent from the Scoto-Irish kings who reigned in Dunstaffnage.

[42] Supposed to be the first of our Christian kings.

[43] Prince Charles Edward.

CHARLES STEWART, D.D.

The Rev. Dr Stewart was born at Appin, Argyllshire, in 1751. His mother was a daughter of Edmonstone of Cambuswallace, the representative of an old and distinguished family in the counties of Perth and Stirling; and his father was brother of Stewart of Invernachoil, who was actively engaged in the cause of Prince Charles Edward, and has been distinguished in the romance of Waverley as the Baron of Bradwardine.

This daring Argyllshire chief, whom Scott represents as being fed in the cave by "Davie Gellatly," was actually tended in such a place of concealment by his own daughter, a child about ten years old.

On receiving license, Dr Stewart soon attained popularity as a preacher.

In 1779, being in his twenty-eighth year, he was ordained to the pastoral charge of the parish of Strachur, Argyllshire. He died in the manse of Strachur on the 24th of May 1826, in the seventy-fifth year of his age, and the forty-seventh of his ministry. A tombstone was erected to his memory in the parochial burying-ground, by the members of the kirk-session. Possessed of superior talents, a vast fund of humour, and a delightful store of traditional information, he was much cherished by a wide circle of admiring friends. Faithful in the discharge of the public duties of his office, he was distinguished among his parishioners for his private amenities and acts of benevolence. He was the author only of one song, but this has attained much favour among the Gael.

LUINEAG--A LOVE CAROL.

No homeward scene near me, No comrade to cheer me, I cling to my dearie, And sigh till I marry.

Sing ever O, and ra-ill O, Ra-ill O, Sing ever O, and ra-ill O, Was ever a May like my fairy?