in Bertram's absence? He leaves me, thou seest, to combat as best I may against thy wit and valour; or wilt thou, too, speed to these Lombard wars, and delegate to yon sad browed knight and Messieurs Dugarde and Montresor, who look wondrous wise, though unhandsomely chary of their words, the task of consoling me and my fellow damsels, when these vales shall be deprived of the sunshine of thy pre "No, sweet mistress," returned Roland, "though thy sharp tongue and scornful eye drive Master Bertram to the tented field, though thy humour were ten times more petulant, and thy jests more keen, thou shalt not wear the willow branch for me, or hang or drown for lack of one poor servant to bear with thy impertinencies: 'twere pity to have them wasted on thy monkey or thy tire woman, send forth thy warrior youth to gather laurels, we will pluck them from their brows when they return, And thou shalt call him brave who bears away ANE WAEFU' SCOTS PASTORAL.* By James Hogg, the Ettrick Shepherd. 1. O MOOR-COCK, moor-cock, dinna craw Will mar thy pride afore the even, Deep frae the glowing light o' heaven. 2. Thy voice gars a' the echos blair From viewless dens of rock and river; Like some wild spirit of the air Thou mak'st its billows quake and quiver, These verses were written on the evening of the 23rd of April, 1827, about the time the great storm of snow was at the height. Next morning many of the snow wreathes on the hills of Ettrick Forest were from twelve to twenty feet deep, and many thousands of lambs, singing birds, and moor game perished. All those of the latter that had begun incubation were literally destroyed. Proud of the mate thou lovest best; But o'er her hame nae mair thou'lt craw, Her grave maun be her lowly nest, Her winding-sheet the wreathe o' snaw. 3. Thou lawless black-cock dinna spread Pruning thy wing of glossy blue, In wooing of a silly dame, Who knows full well thy love's a flam, And that for her 'tis much the same, As raven's for the sickly lamb ? 4. Begone thou heartless libertine, And locker in thy sheltered glade; For soon that motely love of thine, And thou shall both be lowly laid; Yet I will miss thee in the glen When August winds breathe o'er the fell, As mounting from thy braken den, Or skimmering o'er the heather bell. 5. The laverock lilts within the lift, The mavis touts upon the tree; The blackbird hardly makes a shift To strain one note of melody; 6. For the sand-lark I needs must wail And as he sits and wags his tail, And whews upon his cauldrife stane; He sees the lapper on the stream, And Yarrow's banks sae sternly piled, 7. The curlew's neb's a weary length, Through perfect downright consternation, An' ay they cower by holt an' ha' Like thriftless weavers in starvation. SANDY or SANDY-LAVEROCK is the local name in Et trick for the sand piper. 8. The shilfu clars amang the firs, The yellow yorline in the thorn, But a' the simmer's harbingers Are buried ere the break of morn, The lambs lie smothered in the dean, The ewes stand bleating loud an' lang, While the poor shepherd dights his een, And thinks the world is a' gane wrang. Mount Benger, April 24th, 1827. |