The streams were of silver, of diamond the dew, The land was an Eden, for fancy was new. I had heard of our bards, and my soul was on fire At the rush of their verse, and the sweep of their lyre: To me 'twas not legend, nor tale to the ear, Ultonia's old heroes awoke at the call, And renew'd the wild pomp of the chase and the hall: And the standard of Fion flash'd fierce from on high; Like a burst of the sun when the tempest is nigh.1 It seem'd that the harp of green Erin once more Could renew all the glories she boasted of yore— Yet why at remembrance, fond heart, shouldst thou burn? They were days of delusion, and cannot return. But was she, too, a phantom, the Maid who stood by, And listed my lay, while she turn'd from mine eye? Was she, too, a vision, just glancing to view, Then dispersed in the sunbeam, or melted to dew? In ancient Irish poetry, the standard of Fion, or Fingal, is called the Sun-burst, an epithet feebly rendered by the Sun-beam of Macpherson. Oh! would it had been so,-O would that her eye Had been but a star-glance that shot through the sky, And her voice that was moulded to melody's thrill, Had been but a zephyr, that sigh'd and was still! Oh! would it had been so,-not then this poor heart Had learn'd the sad lesson, to love and to part; To bear, unassisted, its burden of care, While I toil'd for the wealth I had no one to share. Not then had I said, when life's summer was done, And the hours of her autumn were fast speeding on, "Take the fame and the riches ye brought in your train, And restore me the dream of my spring-tide again." FAREWELL TO MACKENZIE, HIGH CHIEF OF KINTAIL. FROM THE GAELIC. (1815.) The original verses are arranged to a beautiful Gaelic air, of which the chorus is adapted to the double pull upon the oars of a galley, and which is therefore distinct from the ordinary jorums, or boat-songs. They were composed by the Family Bard upon the departure of the Earl of Seaforth, who was obliged to take refuge in Spain, after an unsuccessful effort at insurrection in favour of the Stuart family, in the year 1718. FAREWELL to Mackenneth, great Earl of the North, The Lord of Lochcarron, Glenshiel, and Seaforth; To the Chieftain this morning his course who began, Launching forth on the billows his bark like a swan. For a far foreign land he has hoisted his sail : Farewell to Mackenzie, High Chief of Kintail! O swift be the galley, and hardy her crew, Though the whirlwind should rise, and the ocean should boil; On the brave vessel's gunnel I drank his bonail,1 And farewell to Mackenzie, High Chief of Kintail! Awake in thy chamber, thou sweet southland gale! Like the sighs of his people, breathe soft on his sail; Be prolong'd as regret, that his vassals most know, Be fair as their faith, and sincere as their woe: Be so soft, and so fair, and so faithful, sweet gale, Wafting onward Mackenzie, High Chief of Kintail! Be his pilot experienced, and trusty, and wise, 1 Bonail, or Bonallez, the old Scottish phrase for a feast at parting with a friend. IMITATION OF THE PRECEDING SONG.1 So sung the old Bard, in the grief of his heart, When he saw his loved Lord from his people depart. Now mute on thy mountains, O Albyn, are heard Nor the voice of the song, nor the harp of the bard; Or its strings are but waked by the stern winter gale, As they mourn for Mackenzie, last Chief of Kintail. From the far Southland Border a Minstrel came forth, And he waited the hour that some Bard of the north 1 [These verses were written shortly after the death of Lord Seaforth, the last male representative of his illustrious house. He was a nobleman of extraordinary talents, who must have made for himself a lasting reputation, had not his political exertions been checked by the painful natural infirmities alluded to in the fourth stanza.] |