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to present his copies to his patroness in sensibly ripens into mutual love. Their person. He was within a year of parents are pleased, and look upon eighty when he undertook this journey their union in due time as a matter of of about sixty miles on horseback, accompanied by his grandson and The expected time is now not far future biographer. His reception was distant, when one of those events, not creditable to the Duchess, and the old unusual in love affairs, intervenes to man found his way home safely, and change the current of their destinies. much gratified with his expedition. A band of Highland plunderers, called
In his 82d year he translated from Sevitians, make one of their predatory Latin into blank verse of excellent raids upon the glen, and sweep off quality, the Poemata Sacra of Andrew almost all the live stock belonging to Ramsay, to which he added a preface, the peasantry. While defending their which shows his prose style to be much flocks and herds, Nory's father, Colin, inferior to his verse. This was his last and Lindy her lover, are made captives. work, for on May 29, 1784, as Burns Nory, fired by filial attachment, and says, he joined “the sons of the morning,” the still stronger passion of love, follows and was buried beside his wife in the in their track, but night coming on, old burying-ground of Lochlee. An she loses her way among the hills. Aberdeen granite slab, erected by sub- Next morning she is discovered asleep by scription among his admirers, marks his Olimund, the young Laird of Bonnylast resting-place.
Ha, who is so fascinated with her The defects in the plot of “Helenore beauty, that he remains by her till she will be seen from the annexed prose awakes. He then kindly takes her story of it ; and the specimens given are home, and places her under the charge selected to represent its characteristic of his maiden aunt. beauties.
Meanwhile, Lindy and Colin have The latest and best edition of Ross's made their escape from their captors, published works, with life, and an by the assistance of Bydby, who has account of his unpublished manuscripts, fallen in love with Lindy, and effected preserved in the Advocates' Library, is their release on condition of his marryedited by Dr Longmuir, Edinburgh, ing her. The three start for Flaviana 1865.
together, but Lindy, to get quit of
Bydby whom he has no thought of THE STORY OF HELENORE.
marrying, sends her back for his coat, Nory and Lindy, as the hero and which he left behind him, promising to heroine of Ross's pas oral are familiarly wait her return. Bydby returns to find known in the Mearns, are the children her lover fled, but she determines to of two neighbouring cottars in the follow. Passing Bonny-Ha, she falls poetically named valley of Flaviana. in with Nory, who ascertaining her They grow up from childhood as com destination, determines to accompany panions, and juvenile attachment in her. On their way she learns about
Lindy's promise to Bydby, and resolves Wi' goats and sheep aboon, and ky below, to treat him as his double breach of The bonny braes a' in a swarm did go. faith deserved. On their arrival at Nae propertythese honest shepherds pled,' Flaviana, Bydby stoutly insists upon the All kept alike, and all in common fed. fulfilment of Lindy's promise, and
But ah! misfortune! while they fear'd no
ill, Nory treats him with indifference.
A crowd of Kettrina did their forest fill ; While matters are in this plight, the
On ilka side they took it in wi' care, young Laird of Bonny-Ha makes his And in the ca’ 3 nor cow nor ewe did spare. appearance, and the case is submitted the sakeless4 shepherds stroove wi' might to his arbitration. He decides in
an' main favour of Bydby's claim, and Lindy To turn the dreary chase, but all in vain ; seeing how matters stood consents to They had nae maughts 5 for sic a toilsome take her. Helenore then becomes the task, Lady of Bonny-IIa, and it turns out For barefaced robbery had put aff the that she is no vulgar beauty after all,
mask. but of gentle blood, her mother, who Amo' the herds, that play'd a maughty was stolen by the gipsies in childhood,
part, being a near relative of the Laird.
Young Lindy kyth'd himsell wi' hand and FLAVIANA.
But mair than master maws7 the field, and
sae Now Flaviana was the country's name, It fared wi' him, poor man, that hapless That aye that bonny water-side did claim,
day. Frae yellow sands that trindled down the Three fellows bauld, and like to lions same.
strang, The fouks were wealthy, store' was a' their Were a' his wrack, 8 and wrought him a' stock ;
his wrang ; Wi' this, but little cunzie,? did they trock;3 | On him laid hands, when he dow 9 do na Frae 'mang the beasts his honour got his
And wi' teugh raips 10 they band him hard And got but little siller, or nane ava.
an' sair, The water feckly 5 on a level sled,
Then left him lying till they sud come back, Wi' little din, but couthy what it made. Hame for a brag intending him to tak. On ilka side the trees grew thick and strang, And wi' the birds they a' were in a sang : NORY ASTRAY MEETS THE SQUIRE. On ev'ry side, a full bow-shot and mair, The green was even, gowany, and fair ; The night grew mark," the mist began to With easy sklent,7 on ev'ry hand the braes, fa', To right well up, wi' scattered busses 8 raise :
· Claimed (?)
7 Mows, proverbial
2 Highland marauders. phrase. Flocks and herds. 5 Mostly.
3 Call, visit. Money. 6 Pleasing.
4 Innocent. 3 Traffic. 7 Slant, incline.
10 Tough ropes. 4 Fall, rent. 8 Bushes.
6 Engaged, displayed. " Mirk, dark.
8 Ruin. 9 Can.
The howlet shriek'd, and that was worst Nae meiths' she kend, ilk hillock-head was of a';
new, For ilka time the on-beast' gae the yell, And a' thing unco'? that was in her view. In spite of grief, it gae her heart a knell. Nor was it fairly,3 for she had na been At length, what wi' the fright, and what So far a fieldward, or sick glens had seen; wi' grief,
For ne'er afore, by langtwa miles and mair, And soupit? spirits, hopeless of relief, Had errands led her thro' the glens to fare. Sleep bit and bit crap in upon her wae, On ilka hand the hills were stay' and steep, And a' was quiet for an hour or sae ; And sud she tak them, she behoved to But yet her heart was aye upo'the flought;3 creep. Sleeping and waking, Lindy filled her Baith wit and will in her together strave, thought.
And she's in swithers how she shall behave. Sair was she catcht, for ilka now and then The fear o' Lindy wad na let her turn, She'd start, and fumper, 4 then lie o'er again. The frightful craigs and mountains gar'd At last her dolour gets the upper hand. her mourn. She starts to foot, but has nae maughts 5 And now for faut and mister she was spent, to stand :
As water weak, and dweble 7 like a bent. Hallach'd and damish'd, and scarce at Yet try't she maun, her heart it wad na sair hersell,
To think but 8 Lindy to look hameward Her limbs they faickėd7 under her and fell. mair. When she had thought a wee, the dowie 8 Up through the cleughs,9 where bink to on knell
bink was set, Strak till her heart, for Lindy, sharp and Scrambling wi' hands and feet, she taks snell.
the gate ; 'Tis yet pit-mark, the yerd, a' black about, Twa hours she took, the longest of the And the night-fowl began again to shout ;
day, · Thro' ilka limb and lith the terror thirl'd, On sic a road, ere she clamb up the brae. At ev'ry time the dowie monster skirl'd. At last, when she unto the height had won, At last the kindly sky began to clear, What kaips her there but the sweet The birds to chirm, 10 and daylight to ap- morning sun ? pear :
Breathless and feckless," there she sits her This laid her eery" thoughts, but yet the down, pain
And will and willsome 12 spied a’her aroun': For her dear Lindy, ever did remain. Of this sae couthie 13 blink she was right When light did sair? her tosee round about. fain, Where she might be, she now began to And for a wee '4 relieved of her pain. doubt.
But toil and heat so overpower'd her pith,
7 Failed. 2 Exhausted, de- 8 Doleful, hideous. pressed
9 The earth. 3 Flight. 4 Whimper, mutter.
11 Dismal. 5 Power, strength.
12 Serve. 6 Crazed and stupified.
some. 6 Want and necessity. "3 Kindly. 7 Feeble, yielding: 14 A little, short while. 8 Without.
That she grew tabetless and swarft' there. That glanced and shined in ilka pool and with,
lyn. And for a while shot out baith hand and A hail hauf-mile she had at least to gang, foot,
Through birns, and pikes, and scrabs, As she had been with an elf-arrow shot. and heather lang? Atlast the dwaum yeeda frae her bit an' bit, | Yet, put and row,' wi' mony a weary twine, And she begins to draw her limbs and sit; She wins at last to where the pools did And by the help of a convenient stane, shine. To which she did her weary body lean, Alang the burn, that busked was wi' trees, She wins to foot, and swavering, makes A bonny easie beaten road she sees. to gang, 3
Upon the busses birdies sweetly sung, And spies a spot of averens 4 ere lang. Till a'the cloughs ? about wi' musick rung : Right yap 5 she yoked to the ready feast, They seem'd to do their best to ease the And lay and ate a full half-hour at least. fair, The feckless melteto did her head o'erset, But she for that was o'er far gane in care. 'Cause nature' frae't did little sust'nance Yet with the pleasant roddie3 she was ta'en, get.
And down the burn she taks the road Sick, sick she grows ; syne, after that a
her lane; wee,
Weening at length she might some town When she o'ercame, the tear fell in her ee,
espy, And till hersell she made this heavy main : And sae amo' them for her Lindy try. Propines7 like this I'll get nae mair again Now very sair the sun began to beat, Frae my dear Lindy; mony a time hast And she is like to sconfice4 wi' the heat ; thou
The summer cauts 5 were trembling here Of these to me thy pouches feschen fu’: 8 and there, Alas! poor man, for aught that I can see, And clouds of midges dancing i' the air ! This day thou lying in cauld bark 9 mayst | The streams of sweat and tears through
ither ran And wae's me for't; but I shall never stint," Down Nory's cheeks, and she to fag Till of thy chance the verity be kent ;
began : Though to the warld's end my search sud | Wi' wae, and faut, and meethness of the be,
day, Dead or alive, thy bonny face I'll see. Sae sair beset she was, that down she lay. Sae up she rises, and about she spies, For her gueed 7 luck,a wee bit aff the paid, 8 And, lo, beneath, a bonny burnie lies,
Grew there a tree, with branches close Out through the mist atweesh" her and the and braid : sun,
The shade beneath a canness-braid 9 out
Strengthless and 6 Strengthless meal. fainting.
7 Presents. 2 Swoon went.
8 Fetched full. 3 Makes an unsteady 9 Clotted in cold attempt to walk.
blood (?) * Cloudberries.
10 Stop, give up. 5 Hungry.
* A phrase indicating 5 The trembling apall means of pro- pearance
of the gression.
heated atmosphere. 2 Cliffs.
6 Close warmth.
Held aff the sunbeams frae a bonny how :' | To catch the lover, or to beet' the flame. Here she resolves to rest, and may be Plain was her gown, the hue was o' the die,
ewe, And lean'd her head unto the kindly tree. And growing scrimp, as she was i'the grow. Her hand she had upon her haffat 2 laid, 'Tis true, her head had been made up fu' And fain, fa was she of the coolriff shade. sleek Short while she in this calour 3 posture lay. The day before, and well prin'd on her When welcome sleep beguiled her o'her keek :3
But a' her braws 4 were out o' order now ; Three hours that bliss to her was leng- Her hair in taits 5 hung down upon her then'd out,
brow. When, by odd chance, a hunter came To her left shoulder, too, her keek was about ;
worn, A gallant youth, and, oh, so finely clad. Her gartens tint, her shoon a' skelt 7 and In his right hand a bow unbent he had : torn: A bonny page behind, hard at his heel, And yet she makes a conquest as she lies, Carried a sheaf of arrows shod with steel, Nor had a glance been shot yet frae her And knapsack clean compactly made and
Some fright he judged the beauty might Slung o'er his head, well lined with gentle
Or met with something hapless in her lot, As this young squire on haste is stending And thought that she ev'n by hersell 8 by,
might be, Wi' a side look he sees a woman lie ; And if awaken'd fiercelins, aff might flee : Jumps in the gate ; but whan he saw her For she afttimes was starting through her face,
sleep, Sae sweet, sae angel-like, and fu' of grace; | And fumpering, as gin she made to weep, He durst na budge, nor speak, nor gang Still he looks on; at length hersell she awa,
raised. But stood stane-still, like picture on the wa': | And round about with consternation His fill o' looking he could never get,
gazed. On sic afore his een he never set,
Upon the squire as soon's she set her eyes, Though bluddert 5 now with strypes of Up till her foot she bangs with great surtears and sweat.
prise, As he's thus gazing, Cupid draws a shaft, And was about to run; he claught her by And proved himsell a master of the craft : the claise, 9 With sic a twang he bent his golden bow, And said, “Sweet lassie, huly, to gin you The red-het arrow pierced him through please : and through.
Nae wrang yese get, bide only till I speer" Nae eek 6 frae Nory's hame-spun kirtle came,
Incite, add fresh 6 Garters lost.
7 Her shoes all rent.
8 Beside herself. 1 Hollow 4 Trim.
3 Linen bonnet.
. 9 Clothes, 2 Side of her cheek. 5 Disfigured.
4 Dress. 3 Cool, fresh.
10 Slowly. II Inquire.