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A SUMMER SABBATH WALK.
Buoyant he flutters but a little while,
Mistakes th' inverted image of the sky Delightful is this loneliness ; it calms
For heaven itself, and, sinking, meets his My heart: pleasant the cool beneath these
Now let me trace the stream up to its That throw across the stream a moveless shade.
Among the hills; its runnel by degrees Here nature in her midnoon whisper | Diminishing, the murmur turns a tinkle. speaks :
Closer and closer still the banks approach, How peaceful every sound !—the ring- Tangled so thick with pleaching bramble dove's plaint,
shoots, Moan'd from the twilight centre of the With brier, and hazel branch, and hawgrove,
thorn spray, While every other woodland lay is mute, That, fain to quit the dingle, glad I mount Save when the wren flits from her down- Into the open air : grateful the breeze coved nest,
That fans my throbbing temples ! smiles And from the root-sprig trills her ditty
the plain clear,
Spread wide below : how sweet the placid The grasshopper's oft-pausing chirp,
view; the buzz,
But O! more sweet the thought, heartAngrily shrill, of moss-entangled bee,
soothing thought, That, soon as loosed, booms with full That thousands and ten thousands of the
twang away, The sudden rushing of the minnow shoal, Of toil partake this day the common joy Scared from the shallows by my passing Of rest, of peace, of viewing hill and dale, tread.
Of breathing in the silence of the woods, Dimpling the water glides, with here and And blessing Him who gave the Sabbath there
day. A glossy fly, skimming in circlets gay Yes, my heart flutters with a freer throb, The treacherous surface, while the quick- To think that now the townsman wanders eyed trout
forth Watches his time to spring ; or, from Among the fields and meadows, to enjoy above,
The coolness of the day's decline; to see Some feather'd dam, purveying 'midst the His children sport around, and simply boughs,
pull Darts from her perch, and to her plume- The flower and weed promiscuous, as a less brood
boon, Bears off the prize :-sad emblem of Which proudly in his breast they smiling man's lot!
fix. He, giddy insect, from his native leaf, Again I turn me to the hill, and trace (Where safe and happily he might have The wizard stream, now scarce to be dislurk'd),
cern'd; Elate upon ambition's gaudy wings, Woodless its banks, but green with ferny Forgetful of his origin, and, worse,
leaves, Unthinking of his end, flies to the stream; And thinly strew'd with heath-bells up And if from hostile vigilance he 'scape,
I'll wonder on, with tentless heed
Some, lucky, find a flowery spot, How never-halting moments speed, For which they never toil'd or swat ; Till fate shall snap the brittle thread ; They drink the sweet and eat the fat Then, all unknown,
But care or pain ; I'll lay me with the inglorious dead, And, haply, eye the barren hut Forgot and gone !
With high disdain. But why o' death begin a tale?
With steady aim some fortune chase ; Just now we're living sound and hale ;
Keen hope does every sinew brace ; Then top and maintop crowd the sail,
Through fair, through foul, they urge the Heave Care ower side!
race, And large, before enjoyment's gale,
And seize the prey :
Then cannie, in come cozie place,
They close the day. Is a' enchanted fairy-land, Where pleasure is the magic wand, And others, like your humble servan', That, wielded right,
Poor wights! nae rules nor roads observin'; Maks hours like minutes, hand in hand, To right or left, eternal swervin', Dance by fu' light.
They zig-zag on ;
Till curst with age, obscure and starvin', The magic wand then let us wield :
They aften groan.
Alas! what bitter toil and straining-
But truce with peevish, poor complaining ! Comes hostin', hirplin', ower the field,
Is Fortune's fickle Luna waning?
E'en let her gang ! When ance life's day draws near the Beneath what light she has remaining, gloamin',
Let's sing our sang.
And kneel, “Ye Powers !” and warm And fareweel dear, deluding woman !
implore, The joy of joys.
"Though I should wander Terra o'er,
In all her climes, O life ! how pleasant is thy morning,
Grant me but this, I ask no more,
Aye rowth o' rhymes.
“Gie dreeping roasts to country lairds, Like schoolboys, at the expected warning, Till icicles hing frae their beards; To joy and play.
Gie fine braw claes to fine life-guards, We wander there, we wander here,
And maids of honour ! We eye the rose upon the brier,
And yill and whisky gie to cairds,
Until they sconner.
A garter gie to Willie Pitt;
Gie wealth to some be-ledger'd cit,
In cent. per cent. ; But gie me real, sterling wit,
And I'm content.
“While ye are pleased to keep me hale, I'll sit down o'er my scanty meal, Be't water-brose, or muslin-kail,
Wi' cheerfu' face, As lang's the Muses dinna fail
To say the grace."
An anxious ee I never throws,
As weel's I may ;
I rhyme away.
ADDRESS TO THE DEIL.
Closed under hatches,
To scaud poor wretches !
E'en to a deil,
And hear us squeel !
Thou travels far : And, faith! thou's neither lag nor lame,
Nor blate nor scaur. Whyles ranging like a roaring lion, For prey a' holes and corners tryin': Whyles on the strong-wing'd tempest flyin',
Tirlin' the kirks; Whyles in the human bosom pryin',
Unseen thou lurks.
O ye douce folk, that live by rule,
How much unlike!
Your lives a dike!
Nae hairbrain'd, sentimental traces
Ye never stray,
Ye hum away.
Ye are sae grave, nae doubt ye're wise ;
The rattling squad :
Ye ken the road.
I've heard my reverend grannie say,
Nod to the moon,
Wi' eldritch croon.
Wi' eerie drone;
Wi' heavy groan.
Ayont the lough ;
Wi' waving sough.
Whilst 1-but I shall haud me thereWi' you I'll scarce gang onywhereThen, Jamie, I shall say nae mair,
But quat my sang, Content wi' you to mak a pair,
Where'er I gang.
The cudgel in my nieve did shake,
Amang the springs,
On whistling wings.
Langsyne, in Eden's bonny yard,
The raptured hour,
In shady bower :
(Black be your fa'!)
'Maist ruin'd a'.
Let warlocks grim, and wither'd hags,
Wi' wicked speed ;
Ower howkit deid.
Thence countra wives, wi' toil and pain, D'ye mind that day, when in a bizz,
'Mang better folk, And dawtit twal-pint hawkie's gaen And sklented on the man of Uzz As yell's the bill.
Your spitefu' joke ! Thence mystic knots mak great abuse And how ye gat him i' your thrall, On young guidmen, fond, keen,and crouse; And brak him out o' house and hall, When the best wark-lume i' the house, While scabs and blotches did him gall, By cantrip wit,
Wi' bitter claw, Is instant made no worth a louse,
And lowsed his ill-tongued, wicked scawl, Just at the bit.
Was warst ava? When thowes dissolve the snawy hoord, But a'
your doings to rehearse, And float the jinglin' icy-boord,
Your wily snares and fechting fierce, Then water-kelpies haunt the foord Sin' that day Michael did you pierce, By your direction ;
Down to this time, And 'nighted travellers are allured Wad ding a Lallan tongue or Erse, To their destruction,
In prose or rhyme.
To your black pit ;
And cheat you yet.
Still hae a stakeThe youngest brother ye wad whip I'm wae to think upo' yon den, Aff straught to hell !
Even for your sake ! (11)
Flow gently, sweet Afton, among thy
green braes, Flow gently, sweet Afton, among thy Flow gently, sweet river, the theme of my green braes,
lays; Flow gently, I'll sing thee a song in thy My Mary's asleep by thy murmuring praise ;
streamMy Mary's asleep by thy murmuring Flow gently, sweet Afton, disturb not her
dream! Flow gently, sweet Afton, disturb not her dream.
THE BIRKS OF ABERFELDY. Thou stock-dove, whose echo resounds
Bonny lassie, will ye go, through the glen,
Will ye go, will ye go, Ye wild whistling blackbirds in yon thorny Bonny lassie, will ye go den,
To the birks of Aberfeldy? Thou green crested lapwing, thy screaming forbear
Now simmer blinks on flowery braes, I charge you, disturb not my slumbering And o'er the crystal streamlet plays ; fair.
Come, let us spend the lightsome days
In the birks of Aberfeldy. How lofty, sweet Afton, thy neighbouring While o'er their heads the hazels hing, hills,
The little birdies blithely sing, Far mark'd with the courses of clear Or lightly flit on wanton wing, winding rills ;
In the birks of Aberfeldy. There daily I wander as noon rises high, The braes ascend like lofty wa's, My flocks and my Mary's sweet cot in
The foaming stream deep-roaring fa's, my eye.
O'erhung wi' fragrant spreading shaws,
The birks of Aberfeldy. Howipleasant thy banks and green valleys The hoary clifts are crown'd wi' flowers, below,
White o'er the linns the burnie pours, Where wild in the woodlands the prim- And rising, weets wi' misty showers roses blow;
The birks of Aberfeldy. There, oft as mild evening weeps over the lea,
Let Fortune's gifts at random flee, The sweet-scented birk shades my Mary They ne'er shall draw a wish frae me, and me.
Supremely blest wi' love and thee,
In the birks of Aberfeldy. Thy crystal stream, Afton, how lovely it glides,
WANDERING WILLIE. And winds by the cot where my Mary resides;
Here awa', there awa', wandering Willie, How wanton thy waters her snowy feet Here awa', there awa', haud awa' hame; lave,
Come to my bosom, my ain only dearie, As gathering sweet flowerets she stems Tell me thou bring'st me my Willie thy clear wave.