Volume V Part 25 (1/2)

OH, SOFTLY SIGHS THE WESTLIN' BREEZE.

Oh, softly sighs the westlin' breeze Through floweries pearl'd wi' dew; An' brightly lemes the gowden sky, That skirts the mountain blue.

An' sweet the birken trees amang, Swells many a blithesome lay; An' loud the bratlin burnie's voice Comes soundin' up the brae.

But, ah! nae mair the sweets o' spring Can glad my wearied e'e; Nae mair the summer's op'ning bloom Gies ought o' joy to me.

Dark, dark to me the pearly flowers, An' sad the mavis sang, An' little heart hae I to roam These leafy groves amang.

She 's gane! she 's gane! the loveliest maid!

An' wae o'erpress'd I pine; The gra.s.s waves o'er my Myra's grave!

Ah! ance I ca'd her mine.

What ither choice does fate afford, Than just to mourn and dee, Sin' gane the star that cheer'd my sky, The beam that bless'd my e'e?

At gloamin' hour alang the burn, Alane she lo'ed to stray, To pu' the rose o' crimson bloom, An' haw-flower purple gray.

Their siller leaves the willows waved As pa.s.s'd that maiden by; An' sweeter burst the burdies' sang Frae poplar straight an' high.

Fu' aften have I watch'd at e'en These birken trees amang, To bless the bonnie face that turn'd To where the mavis sang; An' aft I 've cross'd that gra.s.sy path, To catch my Myra's e'e; Oh, soon this winding dell became A blissful haunt to me.

Nae mair a wasting form within, A wretched heart I bore; Nae mair unkent, unloved, and lone, The warl' I wander'd o'er.

Not then like now my life was wae, Not then this heart repined, Nor aught of coming ill I thought, Nor sigh'd to look behind.

Cheer'd by gay hope's enliv'ning ray, An' warm'd wi' minstrel fire, Th' expected meed that maiden's smile, I strung my rustic lyre.

That lyre a pitying Muse had given To me, for, wrought wi' toil, She bade, wi' its simple tones, The weary hours beguile.

Lang had it been my secret pride, Though nane its strains might hear; For ne'er till then trembled its chords To woo a list'ning ear.

The forest echoes to its voice Fu' sad, had aft complain'd, Whan, mingling wi' its wayward strain, Murmur'd the midnight wind.

Harsh were its tones, yet Myra praised The wild and artless strain; In pride I strung my lyre anew, An' waked its chords again.

The sound was sad, the sparkling tear Arose in Myra's e'e, An' mair I lo'ed that artless drap, Than a' the warl' could gie.

To wean the heart frae warldly grief, Frae warldly moil an' care, Could maiden smile a lovelier smile, Or drap a tend'rer tear?

But now she 's gane,--dark, dark an' drear, Her lang, lang sleep maun be; But, ah! mair drear the years o' life That still remain to me!

Whan o'er the raging ocean wave The gloom o' night is spread, If lemes the twinkling beacon-light, The sailor's heart is glad; In hope he steers, but, 'mid the storm, If sinks the waning ray, Dees a' that hope, an' fails his saul, O'erpress'd wi' loads o' wae.

ALEXANDER MACANSH.

The author of ”The Social Curse, and other Poems,” Alexander Macansh, was born at Dunfermline in 1803. At the age of eleven apprenticed to a flaxdresser, he followed this occupation during a period of thirty-eight years, of which the greater portion was spent in Harribrae factory, in his native town. During the intervals of his occupation, which demanded his attention about fourteen hours daily, he contrived to become familiar with British and continental authors, and with the more esteemed Latin cla.s.sics. He likewise formed an intimate acquaintance with mathematical science. Of decided poetical tastes, he contributed verses to _Tait's Magazine_, the _Edinburgh Literary Journal_, and the _Scotsman_ newspaper. In 1850, he published, by subscription, his volume of poems, ent.i.tled ”The Social Curse, and other Poems,” which has secured him a local reputation. Continuing to reside in Dunfermline, he has, for several years, possessed a literary connexion with some of the provincial newspapers, and has delivered lectures on science to the district inst.i.tutions. To Mr Joseph Paton, of Dunfermline, so well known for his antiquarian pursuits, he has been indebted for generous support and kindly encouragement. Mr Macansh labours under severe physical debility.