Volume I Part 45 (1/2)
”For as the sapling's st.u.r.dy stalk, Whose double twist is crossly strain'd, Such is thy fortune--sure to baulk At this extreme what there was gain'd.
”When Heaven its gracious manna hail'd, 'Twas vain who h.o.a.rded its supply, Not all his miser care avail'd His neighbour's portion to outvie.
”So, blended all that nature owns, So, warp'd all hopes that mortals bless-- With boundless wealth, the sufferer's groans; With courtly luxury, distress.
”Lift up the balance--heap with gold, Its other sh.e.l.l vile dust shall fill; And were a kingdom's ransom told, The scales would want adjustment still.
”Life has its competence--nor deem That better than enough were more; Sure it were phantasy to dream With burdens to a.s.suage thy sore.
”It is the fancy's whirling strife That breeds thy pain--to-day it craves, To-morrow spurns--suffices life When pa.s.sion asks what pa.s.sion braves?
”Should appet.i.te her wish achieve, To herd with brutes her joy would bound; Pleased other paradise to leave, Content to pasture on the ground.
”But pride rebels, nor towers alone Beyond that confine's lowly sphere-- Seems as from the Eternal Throne It aim'd the sceptre's self to tear.
”'Tis thus we trifle, thus we dare; But, seek we to our bliss the way, Let us to Heaven our path refer, Believe, and wors.h.i.+p, and obey.
”That choice is all--to range beyond Nor must, nor needs; provision, grace, In these He gives, who sits enthroned, Salvation, competence, and peace.”
The instructive vision pa.s.s'd away, But not its wisdom's dreamless lore; No more in shadow-tracks I stray, And fondle shadow-shapes no more.
[107] _Orig._--The venomous red spider.
DUNCAN MACINTYRE.
Duncan Macintyre (Donacha Ban) is considered by his countrymen the most extraordinary genius that the Highlands in modern times have produced.
Without having learned a letter of any alphabet, he was enabled to pour forth melodies that charmed every ear to which they were intelligible.
And he is understood to have had the published specimens of his poetry committed to writing by no mean judge of their merit,--the late Dr Stewart of Luss,--who, when a young man, became acquainted with this extraordinary person, in consequence of his being employed as a kind of under-keeper in a forest adjoining to the parish of which the Doctor's father was minister.
Macintyre was born in Druimliart of Glenorchy on the 20th of March 1724, and died in October 1812. He was chiefly employed in the capacity of keeper in several of the Earl of Breadalbane's forests. He carried a musket, however, in his lords.h.i.+p's fencibles; which led him to take part, much against his inclination, in the Whig ranks at the battle of Falkirk. Later in life he transferred his musket to the Edinburgh City Guard.
Macintyre's best compositions are those which are descriptive of forest scenes, and those which he dedicated to the praise of his wife. His verses are, however, very numerous, and embrace a vast variety of subjects. From the extraordinary diffusiveness of his descriptions, and the boundless luxuriance of his expressions, much difficulty has been experienced in reproducing his strains in the English idiom.
MAIRI BHAN OG.
MARY, THE YOUNG, THE FAIR-HAIR'D.
My young, my fair, my fair-hair'd Mary, My life-time love, my own!
The vows I heard, when my kindest dearie Was bound to me alone, By covenant true, and ritual holy, Gave happiness all but divine; Nor needed there more to transport me wholly, Than the friends that hail'd thee mine.
'Twas a Monday morn, and the way that parted Was far, but I rivall'd the wind, The troth to plight with a maiden true-hearted, That force can never unbind.
I led her apart, and the hour that we reckon'd, While I gain'd a love and a bride, I heard my heart, and could tell each second, As its pulses struck on my side.
I told my ail to the foe that pain'd me, And said that no salve could save; She heard the tale, and her leech-craft it sain'd me, For herself to my breast she gave.