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He spak' o' the days, lang past an' gane, When life beat high in every vein; When he was foremost on the plain
On every blythsome day.
“ Then blythly blush'd the mornin' dawn,
An' gay the gloamin' fell;
An' sooth'd the passions well;
Mair sweet than I can tell.
“We had our griefs, we had our joys,
In life's uneasy way ;
That now are far away :
Lies moulderin' in the clay.
“The life o' man's a winter day:
Look back, 'tis gone as soon:
An' fly before 'tis noon,
An' hope o' better days remains,
An' hauds the heart aboon."
THE GUARDIAN ANGEL.
Tar dawning was mild, and the hamlet was wild,
For it stood by an untrodded shore of the main, When Duncan was rais'd from his slumber,
amaz'd, By a voice at his door, that did shortly com
plain“Rise, Duncan, I perish !" his bosom was fir'd
With feelings no language or pen can convey: 'Twas a voice he had heard, and with rapture ad.
mir'd, Ere fatal Culloden had forc'd him away.
He flew to the rock that o'ershadow'd his cot, And wistfully look'd where his vision could
reach; He shouted—but only the echoes about Him answer'd, and billows that rush'd on the
beach. For the winds were at rest, but the ocean, opprest, Still heav'd like an earthquake, and broke on
the shore ;
The mist settled high on the mountains of Skye,
And the wild howling storm ruffled nature no
He search'd every glen, every creek, every isle,
Although every sense was with reason at strife; When the sun blinked red o'er the hills of Argyll,
He found his Matilda, his lady, his wife ! Resign'd to her fate, on a little green plat,
Where a cliff intercepted the wanderer's way, On her bosom so fair, and her fine yellow hair,
The frost of the morning lay crisped and gray.
He wept like a child, while beside her he kneel'd, And cried, “0, kind Father, look down on my
woe! 0, spare my sweet wife, and the whole of my life, My heart, for the gift, shall with gratitude
glow !" By care and attention she slowly recovers, And found herself lock'd in her husband's em.
brace. But, reader, if ever thou hast been a lover,
Thy heart will outgo me, and furnish this space.
She said she had heard of his quiet retreat,
That the snow and the sleet had benumb'd her
weak feet, And with hunger and cold she was quite over•
power’d. For her way she had lost, and the torrents she
cross'd Had often nigh borne her away to the main ; But the night coming on, she had laid herself
down, And prayed to her Maker, nor prayed she in
“But did not you call at my cottage so early, When morning's gray streamers scarce crested
the fell ? A voice then did name me, and waken’d me fairly,
And bade me arise, and the voice I knew well." “ Than where I was found, I was never more nigh
thee: I sunk, overcome by toil, famine, and grief ; Some pitying angel, then hovering by me,
Has taken my voice to afford me relief.”
Then down they both bow'd, and most solemnly
vow'd To their great Benefactor his goodness to mind, Both evening and morning unto them returning ; And well they perform’d the engagement we
They both now are cold; but the tale they have
told, To many,
while gratitude's tears fell in store; And whenever I pass by the bonny Glenasby,
I mind the adventure on Morven's lone shore.
CAULD IS THE BLAST.
Tune-Lord Elcho's Delight.
Cauld is the blast on the braes of Strahonan,
The top of Ben-Wevis is driftin' wi' snaw! The child i' my bosom is shiverin' an' moanin';
Oh! pity a wretch that has naething ava. My feet they are bare, and my cleathin is duddy, Yes, look
traveller; ance I was gay; I hae twa little babies, baith healthy and ruddy But want will waste them and their mother
We late were as blythe as the bird on the Beauly, When the woodland is green, an' the flower on
the lee : But now he's ta'en frae us for ay, wha was truly
A father to them, and a husband to me. My Duncan supplied me, though far away lyin'
Wi' heroes, the glory and pride of our isle ;