"The breath of one of evil deed He has no portion in our creed, "A being, whom no blessed word A wretch, at whose approach abhorr'd, Recoils each holy thing. "Up, up, unhappy! haste, arise! I charge thee not to stop my voice, Amid them all a pilgrim kneel'd, For forty days and nights so drear, And, save with bread and water clear, Amid the penitential flock, Seem'd none more bent to pray ; But, when the Holy Father spoke, He rose and went his way. Again unto his native land To Lothian's fair and fertile strand, His unblest feet his native seat, Mid Eske's fair woods, regain; Thro' woods more fair no stream more sweet Rolls to the eastern main. And lords to meet the pilgrim came, For all mid Scotland's chiefs of fame, And boldly for his country, still, Ay, even when on the banks of Till Sweet are the paths, O passing sweet! There the rapt poet's step may rove, And yield the muse the day; There Beauty, led by timid Love, May shun the tell-tale ray ; From that fair dome, where suit is paid, By blast of bugle free,1 1 The barony of Pennycuick, the property of Sir George Clerk, Bart., is held by a singular tenure; the proprietor be To Auchendinny's hazel glade,1 And haunted Woodhouselee.2 Who knows not Melville's beechy grove,3 Dalkeith, which all the virtues love,5 And classic Hawthornden? 6 ing bound to sit upon a large rocky fragment, called the Buckstane, and wind three blasts of a horn, when the king shall come to hunt on the Borough Muir, near Edinburgh. Hence, the family have adopted, as their crest, a demi-forester proper, winding a horn, with the motto, Free for a Blast. The beautiful mansion-house of Pennycuick is much admired, both on account of the architecture and surrounding scenery. 1 Auchendinny, situated upon the Eske, below Pennycuick, the present residence of the ingenious H. Mackenzie, Esq., author of the Man of Feeling, &c.-Edition 1803. 2 For the traditions connected with this ruinous mansion, see Ballad of Cadyow Castle, p. 211. 3 Melville Castle, the seat of the Right Honourable Lord Melville, to whom it gives the title of Viscount, is delightfully situated upon the Eske, near Lasswade. 4 The ruins of Roslin Castle, the baronial residence of the ancient family of St. Clair. The Gothic Chapel, which is still in beautiful preservation, with the romantic and woody dell in which they are situated, belong to the Right Honourable the Earl of Rosslyn, the representative of the former Lords of Roslin. 5 The village and castle of Dalkeith belonged, of old, to the famous Earl of Morton, but is now the residence of the noble family of Buccleuch. The park extends along the Eske, which is there joined by its sister stream, of the same name. 6 Hawthornden, the residence of the poet Drummond. A house, of more modern date, is enclosed, as it were, by the ruins of the ancient castle, and overhangs a tremendous precipice, upon the banks of the Eske, perforated by winding Yet never a path, from day to day, To Burndale's ruin'd grange. A woful place was that, I ween, For nodding to the fall was each crumbling wall, It fell upon a summer's eve, While, on Carnethy's head, The last faint gleams of the sun's low beams And the convent bell did vespers tell, caves, which, in former times, were a refuge to the oppressed patriots of Scotland. Here Drummond received Ben Jonson, who journeyed from London, on foot, in order to visit him. The beauty of this striking scene has been much injured, of late years, by the indiscriminate use of the axe, The traveller now looks in vain for the leafy bower, "Where Jonson sat in Drummond's social shade." Upon the whole, tracing the Eske from its source, till it joins the sea at Musselburgh, no stream in Scotland can boast such a varied succession of the most interesting objects, as well as of the most romantic and beautiful scenery. 1803. . The beautiful scenery of Hawthornden has, since the above note was written, recovered all its proper ornament of wood. 1831. And mingled with the solemn knell The heavy knell, the choir's faint swell, Deep sunk in thought, I ween, he was, Until he came to that dreary place, He gazed on the walls, so scathed with fire, And there was aware of a Gray Friar, "Now, Christ thee save!" Brother; said the Gray "Some pilgrim thou seemest to be." But in sore amaze did Lord Albert gaze, "O come ye from east, or come ye from west, Or bring reliques from over the sea; Or come ye from the shrine of St. James the divine, Or St. John of Beverly?" |