SONG.1 To an old Scots Tune. BEHOLD the hour, the boat, arrive! Frae thee whom I hae loved sae weel? Endless and deep shall be my grief; Alang the solitary shore, Where flecting sea-fowl round me cry, Across the rolling, dashing roar, I'll westward turn my wistful eye. Happy, thou Indian grove, I'll say, 1 Another copy of this song is given further on, at p. 83 If vol. iii. SONG.' To a charming plaintive Scots Air. ANCE mair I hail thee, thou gloomy December! Ance mair I hail thee wi' sorrow and care; Sad was the parting thou mak'st me remember, Parting wi' Nancy, oh, ne'er to meet mair! Fond lovers' parting is sweet, painful pleasure, Hope beaming mild on the soft parting hour; But the dire feeling, oh, farewell for ever! Anguish unmingled and agony pure! Wild as the winter now tearing the forest, Till the last leaf o' the summer is flown, Such is the tempest has shaken my bosom, Since my last hope and last comfort is gone! Still as I hail thee, thou gloomy December, Still shall I hail thee wi' sorrow and care; For sad was the parting thou mak'st me remember, Parting wi' Nancy, oh, ne'er to meet mair! O MAY, THY MORN. On the 25th of January, 1792, Mrs. M'Lehoso wrote a friendly letter to Burns, bidding him farewell, in anticipation of her immediate departure for Jamaica. She says: "Seek God's favor, keep his commandments, be solicitous to prepare for a happy eternity. There, I trust, we will meet in neverending bliss!" She sailed in February in that vessel, the Roselle, in which Burns had intended to leave his country a few years before. One of the final meetings of Burns and Clarinda is believed to be the subject-matter of the following song, which, however, must be regarded as a poetical rather than historical recital. O MAY, thy morn was ne'er so sweet And here's to them that like oursel' And here's to them that wish us weel, May a' that's gude watch o'er them! And here's to them we darena name, The dearest o' the quorum; And here's to them we darena tell, MY NANNIE'S AWA'. In the course of the ensuing summer, while Mrs M Lehose was absent in the West Indies, the poet's feelings subsided into a comparative calm, and he then composed the following beautiful pastoral. Now in her green mantle blithe Nature arrays, And listens the lambkins that bleat o'er the braes, 1 These lyrics could not have been written without an earnest, however temporary and transient, feeling on the part of the author; yet we conceive it would be a great mistake to accept them as a literal expression of the particular passion in which they originated, or a description of incidents to which that passion gave rise. We ought to make a considerable allowance for the extent to which the poet's mind is actuated by mere considerations of art and the desire of effect. In one there is a levity, and in others a tincture of metier, which are alike incompatible with our notions of this sentimental at tachment. The de Fond Kiss appears in a different light. The tragic tale seems there concentrated in a wild gush of loquence direct from the poet's heart. And violets bathe in the weet o' the morn; They pain my sad bosom, sae sweetly they blaw, They mind me o' Nannie- and Nannie's awa'. Thou laverock that springs frae the dews of the lawn, The shepherd to warn o' the gray-breaking dawn; And thou mellow mavis that hails the night fa', Give over for pity-my Nannie's awa'. Come autumn, sae pensive, in yellow and gray, And soothe me with tidings o' Nature's decay: The dark dreary winter and wild driving snaw Alane can delight me now Nannie's awa'! TO FERGUSSON. It was probably about February, 1792, that Burns inscribed the following lines in a copy of The World, from which they have been copied. ILL FATED genius! Heaven-taught Fergusson! |