Volume V Part 36 (1/2)
Thy steep winding pa.s.ses, where warriors have trod, Which minstrels of yore often made their abode-- Where Ossian and Fingal rehea.r.s.ed runic tales, That echo'd aloft o'er the furze cover'd dales.
How lucent each lake, and how lovely each dell!
Who would not be happy, at home let him dwell; I 'm away, I 'm away, like a thing that is wild, With heart full of glee, as the heart of a child!
THERE IS A BONNIE, BLUs.h.i.+NG FLOWER.
There is a bonnie, blus.h.i.+ng flower-- But ah! I darena breathe the name; I fain would steal it frae its bower, Though a' should think me sair to blame.
It smiles sae sweet amang the rest, Like brightest star where ither's s.h.i.+ne; Fain would I place it in my breast, And make this bonnie blossom mine.
At morn, at sunny noon, whene'er I see this fair, this fav'rite flower, My heart beats high with wish sincere, To wile it frae its bonnie bower!
But oh! I fear to own its charms, Or tear it frae its parent stem; For should it wither in mine arms, What would revive my bonnie gem?
Awa', ye coward thoughts, awa'-- That flower can never fade with me, That frae the wintry winds that blaw Round each neglected bud is free!
No, it shall only bloom more fair, When cherished and adored by me; And a' my joy, and a' my care, This bonnie, blus.h.i.+ng flower shall be!
THE MAID OF GLENCOE.
TUNE--_”Come under my plaidie.”_
Once more in the Highlands I wander alone, Where the thistle and heather are bonnie and blown; By mountain and streamlet, by cavern and glen, Where echo repeats the sweet wood-notes again.
Give courtiers their gay-gilded halls and their grandeur, Give misers their gold, all the bliss they can know; But let me meet Flora, while pensive I wander-- Fair Flora, dear Flora! the maid of Glencoe!
Oh, first when we met, being handsome and gay, I felt she had stole my affections away; The mavis sang loud on the sweet hawthorn tree, But her voice was more sweet and endearing to me.
The sun spread his rays of bright gold o'er the fountain, The hours glided by without languor or woe, As we pull'd the sweet flowers from the steep rocky mountains-- My blessings attend thee, sweet maid of Glencoe!
The glen is more rugged, the scene more sublime, Now hallow'd by love, and by absence, and time!
And fondly resemble the thoughts of my heart, Untouch'd by the cold soothing fingers of art.
And lo! as I gaze on the charms of my childhood, Where bright in the heath-bell the dew-drops still glow, A fairy-like form ushers forth from the wild wood-- 'Tis Flora, fair Flora! the maid of Glencoe.
MARION PAUL AIRD.
The accomplished and amiable author of ”Heart Histories” and other poems, Marion Paul Aird, is a native of Glasgow. Her paternal ancestors were respectable yeomen in the Carrick district of Ayrs.h.i.+re. Her mother, a niece of Hamilton Paul, formerly noticed,[13] was descended from a race of opulent landowners in the district of Cunningham. In her youth, Miss Aird had her abode in a romantic cottage at Govan Hill, in the vicinity of Glasgow. For a number of years she has resided in Kilmarnock. She early studied the British poets, and herself wrote verses. In 1846 she published a duodecimo volume of poems and lyrics, ent.i.tled ”The Home of the Heart, and other Poems;” this was followed in 1853 by a volume of prose and verse, under the t.i.tle of ”Heart Histories.” She has two new volumes of poetry ready for the press. Her poetry is largely pervaded by religious fervour and devoted earnestness.
FOOTNOTES:
[13] See vol. ii., p. 120.
THE FA' O' THE LEAF.