The Modern Scottish Minstrel Volume Iv Part 11

And can thy bosom bear the thought To part frae love and me, laddie?

Are all those plighted vows forgot, Sae fondly pledged by thee, laddie?

Canst thou forget the midnight hour, When in yon love-inspiring bower, You vow'd by every heavenly power You'd ne'er lo'e ane but me, laddie?

Wilt thou--wilt thou gang and leave me-- Win my heart and then deceive me?

Oh! that heart will break, believe me, Gin' ye part wi' me, laddie.

Aft ha'e ye roos'd my rosy cheek, Aft praised my sparkling e'e, laddie, Aft said nae bliss on earth ye'd seek, But love and live wi' me, laddie.

But soon those cheeks will lose their red, Those eyes in endless sleep be hid, And 'neath the turf the heart be laid That beats for love and thee, laddie.

Wilt thou--wilt thou gang and leave me-- Win my heart and then deceive me?

Oh! that heart will break, believe me, Gin ye part frae me, laddie.

You'll meet a form mair sweet and fair, Where rarer beauties s.h.i.+ne, laddie, But, oh! the heart can never bear A love sae true as mine, laddie.

But when that heart is laid at rest-- That heart that lo'ed ye last and best-- Oh! then the pangs that rend thy breast Will sharper be than mine, laddie.

Broken vows will vex and grieve me, Till a broken heart relieve me-- Yet its latest thought, believe me, Will be love an' thine, laddie.

SWEET'S THE DEW.

Sweet's the dew-deck'd rose in June And lily fair to see, Annie, But there's ne'er a flower that blooms Is half so fair as thee, Annie.

Beside those blooming cheeks o' thine The opening rose its beauties tine, Thy lips the rubies far outs.h.i.+ne, Love sparkles in thine e'e, Annie.

The snaw that decks yon mountain top Nae purer is than thee, Annie; The haughty mien and pridefu' look Are banish'd far frae thee, Annie.

And in thy sweet angelic face Triumphant beams each modest grace; And ne'er did Grecian chisel trace A form sae bright as thine, Annie.

Wha could behold thy rosy cheek And no feel love's sharp pang, Annie; What heart could view thy smiling looks, And plot to do thee wrang, Annie?

Thy name in ilka sang I'll weave, My heart, my soul, wi' thee I'll leave, And never, till I cease to breathe, I'll cease to think on thee, Annie.

ROBERT POLLOK.

Robert Pollok, author of the immortal poem, "The Course of Time," was the son of a small farmer in the parish of Eaglesham, Renfrews.h.i.+re, where he was born on the 19th October 1798. With a short interval of employment in the workshop of a cabinetmaker, he was engaged till his seventeenth year in services about his father's farm. Resolving to prepare for the ministry in the Secession Church, he took lessons in cla.s.sical learning at the parish school of Fenwick, Ayrs.h.i.+re, and in twelve months fitted himself for the university. He attended the literary and philosophical cla.s.ses in Glasgow College, during five sessions, and subsequently studied in the Divinity Hall of the United Secession Church. He wrote verses in his boyhood, in his eighteenth year composed a poetical essay, and afterwards produced respectable translations from the Cla.s.sics as college exercises. His great poem, "The Course of Time," was commenced in December 1824, and finished within the s.p.a.ce of nineteen months. On the 24th March 1827, the poem was published by Mr Blackwood; and on the 2d of the following May the author received his license as a probationer. The extraordinary success of his poem had excited strong antic.i.p.ations in respect of his professional career, but these were destined to disappointment. Pollok only preached four times. His const.i.tution, originally robust, had suffered from over exertion in boyhood, and more recently from a course of sedulous application in preparing for license, and in the production of his poem. To recruit his wasted strength, a change of climate was necessary, and that of Italy was recommended. The afflicted poet only reached Southampton, where he died a few weeks after his arrival, on the 18th September 1827. In Millbrook churchyard, near Southampton, where his remains were interred, a monument has been erected to his memory.

Besides his remarkable poem, Pollok published three short tales relative to the sufferings of the Covenanters. He had projected a large work respecting the influences which Christianity had exercised upon literature. Since his death, several short poetical pieces from his pen have, along with a memoir, been published by his brother. In person he was of the ordinary height, and of symmetrical form. His complexion was pale brown; his features small, and his eyes dark and piercing. "He was," writes Mr Gabriel Neil, who enjoyed his friends.h.i.+p, "of plain simple manners, with a well-cultivated mind; he loved debate, and took pleasure in good-humoured controversy." The copyright of "The Course of Time" continues to produce emolument to the family.

THE AFRICAN MAID.

On the fierce savage cliffs that look down on the flood, Where to ocean the dark waves of Gabia haste, All lonely, a maid of black Africa stood, Gazing sad on the deep and the wide roaring waste.

A bark for Columbia hung far on the tide, And still to that bark her dim wistful eye clave; Ah! well might she gaze--in the s.h.i.+p's hollow side, Moan'd her Zoopah in chains--in the chains of a slave.

Like the statue of Sorrow, forgetting to weep, Long dimly she follow'd the vanis.h.i.+ng sail, Till it melted away where clouds mantle the deep; Then thus o'er the billows she utter'd her wail:--

"O my Zoopah come back! wilt thou leave me to woe?

Come back, cruel s.h.i.+p, and take Monia too!

Ah ye winds, wicked winds! what fiend bids ye blow To waft my dear Zoopah far, far from my view?

"Great Spirit! why slumber'd the wrath of thy clouds, When the savage white men dragg'd my Zoopah away?

Why linger'd the panther far back in his woods?

Was the crocodile full of the flesh of his prey?

"Ah cruel white monsters! plague poison their breath, And sleep never visit the place of their bed!

On their children and wives, on their life and their death, Abide still the curse of an African maid!"

J. C. DENOVAN.

J. C. Denovan was born at Edinburgh in 1798. Early evincing a predilection for a seafaring life, he was enabled to enter a sloop of war, with the honorary rank of a mids.h.i.+pman. After accomplis.h.i.+ng a single voyage, he was necessitated, by the death of his father, to abandon his nautical occupation, and to seek a livelihood in Edinburgh.

He now became, in his sixteenth year, apprentice to a grocer; and he subsequently established himself as a coffee-roaster in the capital. He died in 1827. Of amiable dispositions, he was an agreeable and una.s.suming member of society. He courted the Muse to interest his hours of leisure, and his poetical aspirations received the encouragement of Sir Walter Scott and other men of letters.

OH DERMOT, DEAR LOVED ONE!

Thou hast left me, dear Dermot! to cross the wide seas, And thy Norah lives grieving in sadness forlorn, She laments and looks back on the past happy days When thy presence had left her no object to mourn Those days that are past, Too joyous to last, A pang leaves behind them, 'tis Heaven's decree; No joy now is mine, In sadness I pine, Till Dermot, dear Dermot, returns back to me.

O Dermot, dear Dermot! why, why didst thou leave The girl who holds thee so dear in her heart?

Oh! couldst thou hold a thought that would cause her to grieve, Or think for one moment from Norah to part?

Couldst thou reconcile To leave this dear isle, In a far unknown country, where dangers there be?

Oh! for thy dear sake This poor heart will break, If thou, dear beloved one, return not to me.

In silence I 'll weep till my Dermot doth come, Alone will I wander by moon, noon, and night, Still praying of Heaven to send him safe home To her who 'll embrace him with joy and delight.

Then come, like a dove, To thy faithful love, Whose heart will entwine thee, fond, joyous, and free; From danger's alarms Speed to her open arms, O Dermot, dear loved one! return back to me.

JOHN IMLAH.

John Imlah, one of the sweetest and most patriotic of Scottish song-writers, was born in North Street, Aberdeen, about the close of the year 1799. His progenitors were farmers in the parish of Fyvie, but his father followed the profession of an innkeeper. Of seven sons, born in succession to his parents, the poet was the youngest. On completing an ordinary education at the grammar-school, he was apprenticed to a pianoforte maker in Aberdeen. Excelling as a piano-tuner he, in this capacity, sought employment in London, and was fortunate in procuring an engagement from the Messrs Broadwood. For the first six months of the year he performed the duties of a tuner in the metropolis, and during the remaining six months prosecuted his vocation in Scotland. Attached to his native country, he took delight in celebrating her strains. He composed songs from his boyhood. In 1827, he published "May Flowers," a duodecimo volume of lyrics, chiefly in the Scottish dialect, which he followed by a second volume of "Poems and Songs" in 1841. He contributed to Macleod's "National Melodies" and the _Edinburgh Literary Journal_.

On the 9th January 1846, his death took place at Jamaica, whither he had gone on a visit to one of his brothers.