Volume V Part 24 (1/2)

My coward heart wi' happiness, Wi' bliss is brimin' fu'; But, oh! its fu'ness mars my tongue, I haena power to woo.

I prize your smile, as husbandman The summer's opening bloom, And could you frown, I dread it mair, Than he the autumn's gloom.

My life hangs on that sweet, sweet lip, On that calm, sunny brow; And, oh! my dead hangs on them baith, Unless you let me woo.

Oh! lift me to your bosom, then, Lay your warm cheek to mine; And let me round that lovesome waist My arms enraptured twine; That I may breathe my very soul, In ae lang lovin' vow; And a' the while in whispers low, You 'll learn me, love, to woo!

I 'M WANDERING WIDE.

I 'm wand'ring wide this wintry night, But yet my heart 's at hame, Fu' cozie by my ain fire-cheek, Beside my winsome dame.

The weary winds howl lang an' loud; But 'mid their howling drear, Words sweeter far than honey blabs Fa' saftly on my ear.

I 'm wand'ring wide this wintry night, I 'm wand'ring wide an' far; But love, to guide me back again, Lights up a kindly star.

The lift glooms black aboon my head, Nae friendly blink I see; But let it gloom--twa bonnie e'en Glance bright to gladden me.

I 'm wand'ring wide this wintry night, I 'm wand'ring wide and late, And ridgy wreaths afore me rise, As if to bar my gate; Around me swirls the sleety drift, The frost bites dour an' keen; But breathings warm, frae lovin' lips, Come ilka gust atween.

I 'm wand'ring wide this wintry night, I 'm wand'ring wide an' wild, Alang a steep and eerie track, Where hills on hills are piled; The torrent roars in wrath below, The tempest roars aboon; But fancy broods on brighter scenes, And soughs a cheerin' tune.

I 'm wand'ring wide this wintry night, I 'm wand'ring wide my lane, And mony a langsome, lanesome mile, I 'll measure e'er it 's gane; But lanesome roads or langsome miles, Can never daunton me, When I think on the welcome warm That waits me, love, frae thee.

THOMAS d.i.c.k.

A native of Paisley, Thomas d.i.c.k was originally engaged as a weaver in that town. He afterwards became a bookseller, and has since been employed in teaching and other avocations. He is the author of a number of songs which appear in ”Whistle Binkie,” and ”The Book of Scottish Song;” and also of several tales which have been published separately, and in various periodicals.

HOW EARLY I WOO'D THEE.

AIR--_'Neil Gow's Lament for his Brother.'_

How early I woo'd thee, how dearly I lo'ed thee; How sweet was thy voice, how enchanting thy smile; The joy 'twas to see thee, the bliss to be wi' thee, I mind, but to feel now their power to beguile.

I gazed on thy beauty, and a' things about thee, Seem'd too fair for earth, as I bent at thy shrine; But fortune and fas.h.i.+on, mair powerfu' than pa.s.sion, Could alter the bosom that seem'd sae divine!

Anither may praise thee, may fondle and fraize thee; And win thee wi' words, when his heart's far awa'; But, oh, when sincerest, when warmest, and dearest, His vows--will my truth be forgot by thee a'?

'Midst pleasure and splendour thy fancy may wander, But moments o' solitude ilk ane maun dree; Then feeling will find thee, and mem'ry remind thee, O' him wha through life gaes heart-broken for thee.

HUGH MILLER.

The celebrated geologist, and editor of the _Witness_ newspaper, Hugh Miller, was born at Cromarty on the 10th October 1802. In his fifth year he had the misfortune to lose his father, who, being the captain of a small trading vessel, perished in a storm at sea. His widowed mother was aided by two industrious unmarried brothers in providing for her family, consisting of two daughters, and the subject of this Memoir. With a rudimentary training in a private school, taught by a female, he became a pupil in the grammar school. Perceiving his strong apt.i.tude for learning, and vigorous native talent, his maternal uncles strongly urged him to study for one of the liberal professions; but, diffident of success in more ambitious walks, he resolved to follow the steps of his progenitors in a life of manual labour. In his sixteenth year he apprenticed himself to a stone-mason. The profession thus chosen proved the pathway to his future eminence; for it was while engaged as an operative stone-hewer in the old red sandstone quarries of Cromarty, that he achieved those discoveries in that formation which fixed a new epoch in geological science. Poetical composition in evening hours relieved the toils of labour, and varied the routine of geological inquiry. In the prosecution of an ornamental branch of his profession--that of cutting and lettering grave-stones--he in 1828 proceeded to Inverness. Obtaining the friends.h.i.+p of Mr Robert Carruthers, the ingenious editor of the _Inverness Courier_, the columns of that journal were adorned by his poetical contributions. In 1829 these were issued from the _Courier_ office, in a duodecimo volume, with the t.i.tle, ”Poems Written in the Leisure Hours of a Journeyman Mason.”