Chapter 15

Here, rivers in the sea were lost; There, mountains to the skies were tost: Here, tumbling billows mark'd the coast, With surging foam; There, distant shone Art's lofty boast, The lordly dome.

Here, Doon pour'd down his far-fetch'd floods; There, well-fed Irwine stately thuds: Auld hermit Ayr staw thro' his woods, On to the shore; And many a lesser torrent scuds, With seeming roar.

Low, in a sandy valley spread, An ancient borough rear'd her head; Still, as in Scottish story read, She boasts a race, To ev'ry nobler virtue bred, And polish'd grace.

By stately tow'r, or palace fair, Or ruins pendent in the air, Bold stems of heroes, here and there, I could discern; Some seem'd to muse, some seem'd to dare, With feature stern.

My heart did glowing transport feel, To see a race[20] heroic wheel, And brandish round the deep-dy'd steel In sturdy blows; While back-recoiling seem'd to reel Their southron foes.

His Country's Saviour,[21] mark him well! Bold Richardton's[22] heroic swell; The chief on Sark[23] who glorious fell, In high command; And He whom ruthless fates expel His native land.

There, where a sceptr'd Pictish shade[24] Stalk'd round his ashes lowly laid, I mark'd a martial race portray'd In colours strong; Bold, soldier-featur'd, undismay'd They strode along.

Thro' many a wild romantic grove,[25] Near many a hermit-fancy'd cove, (Fit haunts for friendship or for love,) In musing mood, An aged judge, I saw him rove, Dispensing good.

With deep-struck, reverential awe,[26] The learned sire and son I saw, To Nature's God and Nature's law, They gave their lore, This, all its source and end to draw; That, to adore.

Brydone's brave ward[27] I well could spy, Beneath old Scotia's smiling eye; Who call'd on Fame, low standing by, To hand him on, Where many a Patriot-name on high And hero shone.

* * * * *

DUAN SECOND

With musing-deep, astonish'd stare, I view'd the heavenly-seeming fair; A whisp'ring throb did witness bear Of kindred sweet, When with an elder sister's air She did me greet.

"All hail! My own inspired bard! In me thy native Muse regard! Nor longer mourn thy fate is hard, Thus poorly low! I come to give thee such reward As we bestow.

"Know, the great genius of this land, Has many a light aerial band, Who, all beneath his high command, Harmoniously, As arts or arms they understand, Their labours ply.

"They Scotia's race among them share; Some fire the soldier on to dare; Some rouse the patriot up to bare Corruption's heart. Some teach the bard, a darling care, The tuneful art.

"'Mong swelling floods of reeking gore, They, ardent, kindling spirits, pour; Or 'mid the venal senate's roar, They, sightless, stand, To mend the honest patriot-lore, And grace the hand.

"And when the bard, or hoary sage, Charm or instruct the future age, They bind the wild, poetic rage In energy, Or point the inconclusive page Full on the eye.

"Hence Fullarton, the brave and young; Hence Dempster's zeal-inspired tongue; Hence sweet harmonious Beattie sung His 'Minstrel' lays; Or tore, with noble ardour stung, The sceptic's bays.

"To lower orders are assign'd The humbler ranks of human-kind, The rustic bard, the lab'ring hind, The artisan; All choose, as various they're inclin'd The various man.

"When yellow waves the heavy grain, The threat'ning storm some, strongly, rein; Some teach to meliorate the plain, With tillage-skill; And some instruct the shepherd-train, Blythe o'er the hill.

"Some hint the lover's harmless wile; Some grace the maiden's artless smile; Some soothe the lab'rer's weary toil, For humble gains, And make his cottage-scenes beguile His cares and pains.

"Some, bounded to a district-space, Explore at large man's infant race, To mark the embryotic trace Of rustic bard: And careful note each op'ning grace, A guide and guard.

"Of these am I--Coila my name; And this district as mine I claim, Where once the Campbells, chiefs of fame, Held ruling pow'r: I mark'd thy embryo-tuneful flame, Thy natal hour.

"With future hope, I oft would gaze, Fond, on thy little early ways, Thy rudely carroll'd, chiming phrase, In uncouth rhymes, Fir'd at the simple, artless lays Of other times.

"I saw thee seek the sounding shore, Delighted with the dashing roar; Or when the north his fleecy store Drove through the sky, I saw grim Nature's visage hoar Struck thy young eye.

"Or when the deep green-mantled earth Warm cherish'd ev'ry flow'ret's birth, And joy and music pouring forth In ev'ry grove, I saw thee eye the general mirth With boundless love.

"When ripen'd fields, and azure skies, Called forth the reaper's rustling noise, I saw thee leave their evening joys, And lonely stalk, To vent thy bosom's swelling rise In pensive walk.

"When youthful love, warm-blushing, strong, Keen-shivering shot thy nerves along, Those accents, grateful to thy tongue, Th' adored Name I taught thee how to pour in song, To soothe thy flame.

"I saw thy pulse's maddening play, Wild send thee pleasure's devious way, Misled by Fancy's meteor-ray, By passion driven; But yet the light that led astray Was light from Heaven.

"I taught thy manners-painting strains, The loves, the ways of simple swains, Till now, o'er all my wide domains Thy fame extends; And some, the pride of Coila's plains, Become thy friends.

"Thou canst not learn, nor can I show, To paint with Thomson's landscape glow; Or wake the bosom-melting throe, With Shenstone's art; Or pour, with Gray, the moving flow, Warm on the heart.

"Yet, all beneath the unrivall'd rose, The lowly daisy sweetly blows; Tho' large the forest's monarch throws His army shade, Yet green the juicy hawthorn grows, Adown the glade.

"Then never murmur nor repine; Strive in thy humble sphere to shine; And, trust me, not Potosi's mine, Nor king's regard, Can give a bliss o'ermatching thine, A rustic bard.

"To give my counsels all in one, Thy tuneful flame still careful fan; Preserve the dignity of man, With soul erect; And trust, the universal plan Will all protect.

"And wear thou this,"--she solemn said, And bound the holly round my head: The polish'd leaves and berries red Did rustling play; And like a passing thought, she fled In light away.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 19: Duan, a term of Ossian's for the different divisions of a digressive poem. See his "Cath-Loda," vol. ii. of Macpherson's translation.]

[Footnote 20: The Wallaces.]

[Footnote 21: Sir William Wallace.]

[Footnote 22: Adam Wallace, of Richardton, cousin to the immortal preserver of Scottish independence.]

[Footnote 23: Wallace, Laird of Craigie, who was second in command under Douglas, Earl of Ormond, at the famous battle on the banks of Sark, fought anno 1448. That glorious victory was principally owing to the judicious conduct and intrepid valour of the gallant laird of Craigie, who died of his wounds after the action.]

[Footnote 24: Coilus, king of the Picts, from whom the district of Kyle is said to take its name, lies buried, as tradition says, near the family seat of the Montgomeries of Coilsfield, where his burial-place is still shown.]

[Footnote 25: Barskimming, the seat of the late Lord Justice-Clerk (Sir Thomas Miller of Glenlee, afterwards President of the Court of Session.)]

[Footnote 26: Catrine, the seat of Professor Dugald Steward.]

[Footnote 27: Colonel Fullarton.]

* * * * *

XXV.

HALLOWEEN.[28]

"Yes! let the rich deride, the proud disdain, The simple pleasures of the lowly train; To me more dear, congenial to my heart, One native charm, than all the gloss of art."

GOLDSMITH.

[This Poem contains a lively and striking picture of some of the superstitious observances of old Scotland: on Halloween the desire to look into futurity was once all but universal in the north; and the charms and spells which Burns describes, form but a portion of those employed to enable the peasantry to have a peep up the dark vista of the future. The scene is laid on the romantic shores of Ayr, at a farmer's fireside, and the actors in the rustic drama are the whole household, including supernumerary reapers and bandsmen about to be discharged from the engagements of harvest. "I never can help regarding this," says James Hogg, "as rather a trivial poem!"]

Upon that night, when fairies light On Cassilis Downans[29] dance, Or owre the lays, in splendid blaze, On sprightly coursers prance; Or for Colean the rout is ta'en, Beneath the moon's pale beams; There, up the Cove,[30] to stray an' rove Amang the rocks an' streams To sport that night.

Amang the bonnie winding banks Where Doon rins, wimplin', clear, Where Bruce[31] ance rul'd the martial ranks, An' shook his Carrick spear, Some merry, friendly, countra folks, Together did convene, To burn their nits, an' pou their stocks, An' haud their Halloween Fu' blythe that night.

The lasses feat, an' cleanly neat, Mair braw than when they're fine; Their faces blythe, fu' sweetly kythe, Hearts leal, an' warm, an' kin'; The lads sae trig, wi' wooer babs, Weel knotted on their garten, Some unco blate, an' some wi' gabs, Gar lasses' hearts gang startin' Whiles fast at night.

Then, first and foremost, thro' the kail, Their stocks[32] maun a' be sought ance; They steek their een, an' graip an' wale, For muckle anes an' straught anes. Poor hav'rel Will fell aff the drift, An' wander'd through the bow-kail, An' pou't, for want o' better shift, A runt was like a sow-tail, Sae bow't that night.

Then, straught or crooked, yird or nane, They roar an' cry a' throu'ther; The vera wee-things, todlin', rin Wi' stocks out-owre their shouther; An' gif the custoc's sweet or sour, Wi' joctelegs they taste them; Syne coziely, aboon the door, Wi' cannie care, they've placed them To lie that night.

The lasses staw frae mang them a' To pou their stalks o' corn;[33] But Rab slips out, an' jinks about, Behint the muckle thorn: He grippet Nelly hard an' fast; Loud skirl'd a' the lasses; But her tap-pickle maist was lost, When kiuttlin' in the fause-house[34] Wi' him that night.

The auld guidwife's weel hoordet nits[35] Are round an' round divided; An' monie lads' an' lasses' fates Are there that night decided: Some kindle, couthie, side by side, An' burn thegither trimly; Some start awa' wi' saucy pride, And jump out-owre the chimlie Fu' high that night.

Jean slips in twa wi' tentie e'e; Wha 'twas, she wadna tell; But this is Jock, an' this is me, She says in to hersel': He bleez'd owre her, an' she owre him, As they wad never mair part; 'Till, fuff! he started up the lum, An' Jean had e'en a sair heart To see't that night.

Poor Willie, wi' his bow-kail runt, Was brunt wi' primsie Mallie; An' Mallie, nae doubt, took the drunt, To be compar'd to Willie; Mall's nit lap out wi' pridefu' fling, An' her ain fit it brunt it; While Willie lap, and swoor, by jing, 'Twas just the way he wanted To be that night.

Nell had the fause-house in her min', She pits hersel an' Rob in; In loving bleeze they sweetly join, 'Till white in ase they're sobbin'; Nell's heart, was dancin' at the view, She whisper'd Rob to leuk for't: Rob, stowlins, prie'd her bonie mou', Fu' cozie in the neuk for't, Unseen that night.

But Merran sat behint their backs, Her thoughts on Andrew Bell; She lea'es them gashin' at their cracks, And slips out by hersel': She through the yard the nearest taks, An' to the kiln she goes then, An' darklins graipit for the bauks, And in the blue-clue[36] throws then, Right fear't that night.

An' ay she win't, an' ay she swat, I wat she made nae jaukin'; 'Till something held within the pat, Guid L--d! but she was quaukin'! But whether 'twas the Deil himsel', Or whether 'twas a bauk-en', Or whether it was Andrew Bell, She did na wait on talkin' To spier that night.

Wee Jenny to her graunie says, "Will ye go wi' me, graunie? I'll eat the apple[37] at the glass, I gat frae uncle Johnnie:" She fuff't her pipe wi' sic a lunt, In wrath she was sae vap'rin', She notic't na, an aizle brunt Her braw new worset apron Out thro' that night.

"Ye little skelpie-limmer's face! I daur you try sic sportin', As seek the foul Thief onie place, For him to spae your fortune: Nae doubt but ye may get a sight! Great cause ye hae to fear it; For monie a ane has gotten a fright, An' liv'd an' died deleeret On sic a night.

"Ae hairst afore the Sherra-moor, I mind't as weel's yestreen, I was a gilpey then, I'm sure I was na past fifteen: The simmer had been cauld an' wat, An' stuff was unco green; An' ay a rantin' kirn we gat, An' just on Halloween It fell that night.

"Our stibble-rig was Rab M'Graen, A clever, sturdy fellow: He's sin gat Eppie Sim wi' wean, That liv'd in Achmacalla: He gat hemp-seed,[38] I mind it weel, And he made unco light o't; But monie a day was by himsel', He was sae sairly frighted That vera night."

Then up gat fechtin' Jamie Fleck, An' he swoor by his conscience, That he could saw hemp-seed a peck; For it was a' but nonsense; The auld guidman raught down the pock, An' out a' handfu' gied him; Syne bad him slip frae 'mang the folk, Sometime when nae ane see'd him, An' try't that night.

He marches thro' amang the stacks, Tho' he was something sturtin; The graip he for a harrow taks, An' haurls at his curpin; An' ev'ry now an' then he says, "Hemp-seed, I saw thee, An' her that is to be my lass, Come after me, an' draw thee As fast that night."

He whistl'd up Lord Lennox' march, To keep his courage cheery; Altho' his hair began to arch, He was sae fley'd an' eerie; 'Till presently he hears a squeak, An' then a grane an' gruntle; He by his shouther gae a keek, An' tumbl'd wi' a wintle Out-owre that night.

He roar'd a horrid murder-shout, In dreadfu' desperation! An' young an' auld cam rinnin' out, An' hear the sad narration; He swoor 'twas hilchin Jean M'Craw, Or crouchie Merran Humphie, 'Till, stop! she trotted thro' them a'; An' wha was it but Grumphie Asteer that night!

Meg fain wad to the barn hae gaen, To win three wechts o' naething;[39] But for to meet the deil her lane, She pat but little faith in: She gies the herd a pickle nits, An' twa red cheekit apples, To watch, while for the barn she sets, In hopes to see Tam Kipples That vera night.

She turns the key wi' cannie thraw, An' owre the threshold ventures; But first on Sawnie gies a ca', Syne bauldly in she enters: A ratton rattled up the wa', An' she cried, L--d preserve her! An' ran thro' midden-hole an' a', An' pray'd wi' zeal and fervour, Fu' fast that night.

They hoy't out Will, wi sair advice; They hecht him some fine braw ane; It chanc'd the stack he faddom't thrice,[40] Was timmer-propt for thrawin'; He taks a swirlie auld moss-oak, For some black, grousome carlin; An' loot a winze, an' drew a stroke, 'Till skin in blypes cam haurlin' Aff's nieves that night.

A wanton widow Leezie was, As canty as a kittlin; But, och! that night, amang the shaws, She got a fearfu' settlin'! She thro' the whins, an' by the cairn, An' owre the hill gaed scrievin, Whare three lairds' lands met at a burn,[41] To dip her left sark-sleeve in, Was bent that night.

Whyles owre a linn the burnie plays, As through the glen it wimpl't; Whyles round a rocky scaur it strays, Whyles in a wiel it dimpl't; Whyles glitter'd to the nightly rays, Wi' bickering, dancing dazzle; Whyles cookit underneath the braes, Below the spreading hazel, Unseen that night.

Amang the brackens on the brae, Between her an' the moon, The deil, or else an outler quey, Gat up an' gae a croon: Poor Leezie's heart maist lap the hool! Near lav'rock-height she jumpit, But mist a fit, an' in the pool Out-owre the lugs she plumpit, Wi' a plunge that night.

In order, on the clean hearth-stane, The luggies three[42] are ranged, And ev'ry time great care is ta'en, To see them duly changed: Auld uncle John, wha wedlock's joys Sin Mar's-year did desire, Because he gat the toom-dish thrice, He heav'd them on the fire In wrath that night.

Wi' merry sangs, and friendly cracks, I wat they did na weary; An' unco tales, an' funnie jokes, Their sports were cheap an' cheery; Till butter'd so'ns[43] wi' fragrant lunt, Set a' their gabs a-steerin'; Syne, wi' a social glass o' strunt, They parted aff careerin' Fu' blythe that night.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 28: Is thought to be a night when witches, devils, and other mischief-making beings are all abroad on their baneful midnight errands: particularly those aerial people, the Fairies, are said on that night to hold a grand anniversary.]

[Footnote 29: Certain little, romantic, rocky green hills, in the neighbourhood of the ancient seat of the Earls of Cassilis.]

[Footnote 30: A noted cavern near Colean-house, called the Cove of Colean which, as well as Cassilis Downans, is famed in country story for being a favourite haunt of fairies.]

[Footnote 31: The famous family of that name, the ancestors of Robert, the great deliverer of his country, were Earls of Carrick.]

[Footnote 32: The first ceremony of Halloween is pulling each a stock, or plant of kail. They must go out, hand-in-hand, with eyes shut, and pull the first they meet with: its being big or little, straight or crooked, is prophetic of the size and shape of the grand object of all their spells--the husband or wife. If any yird, or earth, stick to the root, that is tocher, or fortune; and the taste of the custoc, that is, the heart of the stem, is indicative of the natural temper and disposition. Lastly, the stems, or, to give them their ordinary appellation, the runts, are placed somewhere above the head of the door; and the Christian names of the people whom chance brings into the house are, according to the priority of placing the runts, the names in question.]

[Footnote 33: They go to the barn-yard, and pull each at three several times, a stalk of oats. If the third stalk wants the top-pickle, that is, the grain at the top of the stalk, the party in question will come to the marriage-bed anything but a maid.]

[Footnote 34: When the corn is in a doubtful state, by being too green or wet, the stack-builder, by means of old timber, &c., makes a large apartment in his stack, with an opening in the side which is fairest exposed to the wind: this he calls a fause-house.]

[Footnote 35: Burning the nuts is a famous charm. They name the lad and lass to each particular nut, as they lay them in the fire, and according as they burn quietly together, or start from beside one another, the course and issue of the courtship will be.]

[Footnote 36: Whoever would, with success, try this spell, must strictly observe these directions: Steal out, all alone, to the kiln, and, darkling, throw into the pot a clue of blue yarn; wind it in a clue off the old one; and towards the latter end, something will hold the thread; demand "wha hauds?" i.e. who holds? an answer will be returned from the kiln-pot, naming the Christian and surname of your future spouse.]

[Footnote 37: Take a candle, and go alone to a looking-glass; eat an apple before it, and some traditions say, you should comb your hair all the time; the face of your conjugal companion, to be, will be seen in the glass, as if peeping over your shoulder.]

[Footnote 38: Steal out unperceived, and sow a handful of hemp-seed, harrowing it with anything you can conveniently draw after you. Repeat, now and then, "Hemp-seed, I saw thee; hemp-seed, I saw thee; and him (or her) that is to be my true love, come after me and pou thee." Look over your left shoulder, and you will see the appearance of the person invoked, in the attitude of pulling hemp. Some traditions say, "Come after me, and shaw thee," that is, show thyself; in which case it simply appears. Others omit the harrowing, and say, "Come after me, and harrow thee."]

[Footnote 39: This charm must likewise be performed, unperceived, and alone. You go to the barn, and open both doors, taking them off the hinges, if possible; for there is danger that the being about to appear may shut the doors and do you some mischief. Then take that instrument used in winnowing the corn, which, in our country dialect, we call a wecht; and go through all the attitudes of letting down corn against the wind. Repeat it three times; and the third time, an apparition will pass through the barn, in at the windy door, and out at the other, having both the figure in question, and the appearance or retinue marking the employment or station in life.]