The Modern Scottish Minstrel Volume Iv Part 29

ALEXANDER A. RITCHIE.[28]

Alexander Abernethy Ritchie, author of "The Wells o' Wearie," was born in the Canongate, Edinburgh, in 1816. In early youth he evinced a lively appreciation of the humorous and the pathetic, and exhibited remarkable artistic talent, sketching from nature with fidelity and ease. His parents being in humble circ.u.mstances, he was apprenticed as a house-painter, and soon became distinguished for his skill in the decorative branch of his profession. On the expiry of his apprentices.h.i.+p, he cultivated painting in a higher department of the art, and his pictures held a highly respectable place at the annual exhibitions of the Scottish Academy. Among his pictures which became favourites may be mentioned the "Wee Raggit Laddie," "The Old Church Road," "The Gaberlunzie," "Tak' your Auld Cloak about ye," and "The Captive Truant." His ill.u.s.trations of his friend, Mr James Ballantine's works, "The Gaberlunzie's Wallet" and "The Miller of Deanhaugh," and of some other popular works, evince a lively fancy and keen appreciation of character. He executed a number of water-colour sketches of the more picturesque and interesting lanes and alleys of Edinburgh; and contributed to the _Ill.u.s.trated London News_ representations of remarkable events as they occurred in the Scottish capital. He died suddenly at St John's Hill, Canongate, Edinburgh, in 1850, in the thirty-fourth year of his age. Ritchie was possessed of a vast fund of humour, and was especially esteemed for the simplicity of his manners and his kindly dispositions. He excelled in reading poetry, whether dramatic or descriptive, and sung his own songs with intense feeling. He lived with his aged mother, whom he regarded with dutiful affection, and who survives to lament his loss. Shortly before his death he composed the following hymn, which has been set to appropriate music:--

Father of blissfulness, Grant me a resting-place Now my sad spirit is longing for rest.

Lord, I beseech Thee, Deign Thou to teach me Which path to heaven is surest and best: Lonely and dreary, Laden and weary, Oh! for a home in the land of the blest!

Father of holiness, Look on my lowliness; From this sad bondage, O Lord, set me free; Grant that, 'mid love and peace, Sorrow and sin may cease, While in the Saviour my trust it shall be.

When Death's sleep comes o'er me, On waking--before me The portals of glory all open I 'll see.

FOOTNOTES:

[28] We are indebted to Mr James Ballantine, of Edinburgh, for the particulars contained in this memoir.

THE WELLS O' WEARIE.

AIR--_"Bonnie House o' Airlie."_

Sweetly s.h.i.+nes the sun on auld Edinbro' toun, And mak's her look young and cheerie; Yet I maun awa' to spend the afternoon At the lanesome Wells o' Wearie.

And you maun gang wi' me, my winsome Mary Grieve, There 's nought in the world to fear ye; For I ha'e ask'd your minnie, and she has gi'en ye leave To gang to the Wells o' Wearie.

Oh, the sun winna blink in thy bonnie blue e'en, Nor tinge the white brow o' my dearie, For I 'll shade a bower wi' rashes lang and green By the lanesome Wells o' Wearie.

But, Mary, my love, beware ye dinna glower At your form in the water sae clearly, Or the fairy will change you into a wee, wee flower, And you 'll grow by the Wells o' Wearie.

Yestreen as I wander'd there a' alane, I felt unco douf and drearie, For wanting my Mary, a' around me was but pain At the lanesome Wells o' Wearie.

Let fortune or fame their minions deceive, Let fate look gruesome and eerie; True glory and wealth are mine wi' Mary Grieve, When we meet by the Wells o' Wearie.

Then gang wi' me, my bonnie Mary Grieve, Nae danger will daur to come near ye; For I ha'e ask'd your minnie, and she has gi'en ye leave, To gang to the Wells o' Wearie.

ALEXANDER LAING.

One of the simplest and most popular of the living national song-writers, Alexander Laing, was born at Brechin on the 14th May 1787.

His father, James Laing, was an agricultural labourer. With the exception of two winters' schooling, he was wholly self-taught. Sent to tend cattle so early as his eighth year, he regularly carried books and writing-materials with him to the fields. His books were procured by the careful acc.u.mulation of the halfpence bestowed on him by the admirers of his juvenile tastes. In his sixteenth year, he entered on the business of a flax-dresser, in his native town--an occupation in which he was employed for a period of fourteen years. He afterwards engaged in mercantile concerns, and has latterly retired from business. He now resides at Upper Tenements, Brechin, in the enjoyment of a well-earned competency.

Mr Laing early wrote verses. In 1819, several songs from his pen appeared in the "Harp of Caledonia"--a respectable collection of minstrelsy, edited by John Struthers. He subsequently became a contributor to the "Harp of Renfrews.h.i.+re" and the "Scottish Minstrel,"

edited by R. A. Smith. His lyrics likewise adorn the pages of Robertson's "Whistle Binkie" and the "Book of Scottish Song." He published, in 1846, a collected edition of his poems and songs, in a duodecimo volume, under the designation of "Wayside Flowers." A second edition appeared in 1850. He has been an occasional contributor to the local journals; furnished a number of anecdotes for the "Laird of Logan," a humorous publication of the west of Scotland; and has compiled some useful elementary works for the use of Sabbath-schools. His lyrics are uniformly pervaded by graceful simplicity, and the chief themes of his inspiration are love and patriotism. Than his song ent.i.tled "My Ain Wife," we do not know a lay more beautifully simple. His "Hopeless Exile" is the perfection of tenderness.

AE HAPPY HOUR.

AIR--_"The c.o.c.k Laird."_

The dark gray o' gloamin', The lone leafy shaw, The coo o' the cushat, The scent o' the haw; The brae o' the burnie, A' bloomin' in flower, An' twa' faithfu' lovers, Make ae happy hour.

A kind winsome wifie, A clean canty hame, An' smilin' sweet babies To lisp the dear name; Wi' plenty o' labour, An' health to endure, Make time to row round aye The ae happy hour.

Ye lost to affection, Whom avarice can move To woo an' to marry For a' thing but love; Awa' wi' your sorrows, Awa' wi' your store, Ye ken na the pleasure O' ae happy hour.

La.s.s, GIN YE WAD LO'E ME.

AIR--_"La.s.s, gin I come near you."_

"La.s.s, gin ye wad lo'e me, La.s.s, gin ye wad lo'e me, Ye'se be ladye o' my ha', La.s.s, gin ye wad lo'e me.

A canty but, a cosie ben, Weel plenish'd ye may trow me; A brisk, a blithe, a kind gudeman-- La.s.s, gin ye wad lo'e me!"

"Walth, there 's little doubt ye ha'e, An' bidin' bein an' easy; But brisk an' blithe ye canna be, An' you sae auld an' crazy.

Wad marriage mak' you young again?

Wad woman's love renew you?

Awa', ye silly doitet man, I canna, winna lo'e you!"

"Witless hizzie, e'en 's you like, The ne'er a doit I 'm carin'; But men maun be the first to speak, An' wanters maun be speerin'.

Yet, la.s.sie, I ha'e lo'ed you lang, An' now I'm come to woo you; I 'm no sae auld as clashes gang, I think you 'd better lo'e me."

"Doitet bodie! auld or young, Ye needna langer tarry, Gin ane be loutin' o'er a rung, He 's no for me to marry.

Gae hame an' ance bethink yoursel'

How ye wad come to woo me, An' mind me i' your latter-will, Bodie, gin ye lo'e me!"

La.s.s OF LOGIE.

AIR--_"La.s.s of Arranteenie."_

I 've seen the smiling summer flower Amang the braes of Yarrow; I 've heard the raving winter wind Amang the hills of Barra; I 've wander'd Scotland o'er and o'er, Frae Teviot to Strathbogie; But the bonniest la.s.s that I ha'e seen Is bonnie Jean of Logie.

Her lips were like the heather bloom, In meekest dewy morning; Her cheeks were like the ruddy leaf, The bloomy brier adorning; Her brow was like the milky flower That blossoms in the bogie; And love was laughing in her een-- The bonnie la.s.s of Logie.

I said, "My la.s.sie, come wi' me, My hand, my hame are ready; I ha'e a lairds.h.i.+p of my ain, And ye shall be my ladye.

I 've ilka thing baith out and in, To make you blithe and vogie;"