SONG OF BEN CRUACHAN.

Ben Cruachan is king of the mountains That gird in the lovely Loch Awe; Loch Etive is fed from his fountains, By the streams of the dark-rushing Awe.

With his peak so high He cleaves the sky That smiles on his old gray crown, While the mantle green, On his shoulders seen, In many a fold flows down.

He looks to the north, and he renders A greeting to Nevis Ben; And Nevis, in white snowy splendours, Gives Cruachan greeting again.

O'er dread Glencoe The greeting doth go And where Etive winds fair in the glen; And he hears the call In his steep north wall, "G.o.d bless thee, old Cruachan Ben."

When the north winds their forces muster, And ruin rides high on the storm, All calm, in the midst of their bl.u.s.ter, He stands with his forehead enorm.

When block on block, With thundering shock, Comes hurtled confusedly down, No whit recks he, But laughs to shake free The dust from his old gray crown.

And while torrents on torrents are pouring Down his sides with a wild, savage glee, And when louder the loud Awe is roaring, And the soft lake swells to a sea, He smiles through the storm, And his heart grows warm As he thinks how his streams feed the plains And the brave old Ben Grows young again, And swells with his l.u.s.ty veins.

For Cruachan is king of the mountains That gird in the lovely Loch Awe; Loch Etive is fed from his fountains, By the streams of the dark-rushing Awe.

Ere Adam was made He rear'd his head Sublime o'er the green winding glen; And when flame wraps the sphere, O'er earth's ashes shall peer The peak of the old granite Ben.

THE BRAES OF MAR.

Farewell ye braes of broad Braemar, From you my feet must travel far, Thou high-peak'd steep-cliff'd Loch-na-Gar, Farewell, farewell for ever!

Thou lone green glen where I was born, Where free I stray'd in life's bright morn.

From thee my heart is rudely torn, And I shall see thee never!

The braes of Mar with heather glow, The healthful breezes o'er them blow, The gushing torrents from them flow, That swell the rolling river.

Strong hills that nursed the brave and free, On banks of clear, swift-rushing Dee, My widow'd eyne no more shall see Your birchen bowers for ever!

Farewell thou broad and bare Muicdhui Ye stout old pines of lone Glen Lui, Thou forest wide of Ballochbuie, Farewell, farewell for ever!

In you the rich may stalk the deer, Thou 'lt know the tread of prince and peer; But oh, the poor man's heart is drear To part from you for ever!

May G.o.d forgive our haughty lords, For whom our fathers drew their swords; No tear for us their pride affords, No bond of love they sever.

Farewell ye braes of broad Braemar, From bleak Ben Aon to Loch-na-Gar-- The friendless poor is banished far From your green glens for ever!

MY LOVES.

Name the leaves on all the trees, Name the waves on all the seas, Name the notes of all the groves-- Thus thou namest all my loves.

I do love the dark, the fair, Golden ringlets, raven hair, Eye that swims in sunny light, Glance that shoots like lightning bright.

I do love the stately dame And the sportive girl the same; Every changeful phase between Blooming cheek and brow serene.

I do love the young, the old, Maiden modest, virgin bold, Tiny beauties, and the tall-- Earth has room enough for all.

Which is better--who can say?-- Lucy grave or Mary gay?

She who half her charms conceals?

She who sparkles while she feels?

Why should I confine my love?

Nature bids us freely rove; G.o.d hath scatter'd wide the fair, Blooms and beauties everywhere.

Paris was a pedant fool, Meting beauty by a rule: Pallas? Juno? Venus?--he Should have chosen all the three.

I am wise, life's every bliss Thankful tasting; and a kiss Is a sweet thing, I declare, From a dark maid or a fair.

LIKING AND LOVING.

Liking is a little boy Dreaming of a sea employ, Sitting by the stream, with joy Paper frigates sailing: Love 's an earnest-hearted man, Champion of beauty's clan, Fighting bravely in the van, Pushing and prevailing.

Liking hovers round and round, Capers with a nimble bound, Plants his foot on easy ground, Through the gla.s.s to view it: Love shoots sudden glance for glance, Spurs the steed, and rests the lance, With a brisk and bold advance, Sworn to die or do it.

Liking 's ever on the wing, From new blooms new sweets to bring; Nibbling aye, the nimble thing From the hook is free still: Love 's a tar of British blue, Let mad winds their maddest do, To his haven carded true, As I am to thee still.

WILLIAM STIRLING, M.P.

William Stirling of Keir, parliamentary representative of the county of Perth, was born on the 8th March 1818, in the mansion of Kenmure, in the vicinity of Glasgow. The only son of the late Archibald Stirling of Keir, his paternal ancestors, for a course of centuries, have been extensive landowners in the counties of Lanark and Perth. The representative of the house, Sir George Stirling, was a conspicuous supporter of the famous Marquis of Montrose. On the side of his mother, who was a daughter of Sir John Maxwell, Bart., of Polloc, he is descended from a family who adhered to the Covenant and the Revolution of 1688.

Mr Stirling took the degrees of B.A. and M.A. at Trinity College, Cambridge. To literary pursuits ardently devoted from his youth, he afforded the first indication of his peculiar tastes in a small poetical _brochure_. "The Songs of the Holy Land," composed chiefly during a visit to Palestine, were printed for private circulation in 1846, but were published with considerable additions in a handsome octavo volume in 1848. Two specimens of these sacred lays are inserted in the present work with the author's permission.

During a residence in Spain, Mr Stirling was led to direct his attention to the state of the Fine Arts in that country; and in 1848 he produced a work of much research and learning, ent.i.tled "Annals of the Artists of Spain," in three volumes octavo. In 1852 appeared "The Cloister Life of the Emperor Charles V.," which has already pa.s.sed through several editions, and has largely increased the reputation of the writer. His latest publication, "Velasquez and his Works" was published in 1855.

In 1852 Mr Stirling was elected, without opposition, member of Parliament for the county of Perth, and was again returned at the general election in April 1857. Recently he has evinced a deep interest in the literary improvement of the industrial population, by delivering lectures to the district Mechanics' Inst.i.tutions.

RUTH.

The golden smile of morning On the hills of Moab play'd, When at the city's western gate Their steps three women stay'd.

One laden was with years and care, A gray and faded dame, Of Judah's ancient lineage, And Naomi her name; And two were daughters of the land, Fair Orpah and sweet Ruth, Their faces wearing still the bloom, Their eyes the light of youth; But all were childless widows, And garb'd in weeds of woe, And their hearts were full of sorrow, And fast their tears did flow.

For the Lord G.o.d from Naomi Her spouse and sons had taken, And she and these that were their wives, Are widow'd and forsaken; And wish or hope her bosom knows None other but to die, And lay her bones in Bethlehem, Where all her kindred lie.

So gives she now upon the way To Jordan's western waters Her farewell kisses and her tears Unto her weeping daughters: "Sweet daughters mine, now turn again Unto your homes," she said, "And for the love ye bear to me, The love ye bear the dead, The Lord with you deal kindly, And give you joy and rest And send to each a faithful mate To cheer her widow'd breast."