ANE WAEFU' SCOTS PASTORAL.* By James Hogg, the Ettrick Shepherd. 1. O MOOR-COCK, moor-cock, dinna craw Will mar thy pride afore the even, Deep frae the glowing light o' heaven. 2. Thy voice gars a' the echos blair From viewless dens of rock and river; Like some wild spirit of the air Thou mak'st its billows quake and quiver, * These verses were written on the evening of the 23rd of April, 1827, about the time the great storm of snow was at the height. Next morning many of the snow wreathes on the hills of Ettrick Forest were from twelve to twenty feet deep, and many thousands of lambs, singing birds, and moor game perished. All those of the latter that had begun incubation were literally destroyed. Proud of the mate thou lovest best; But o'er her hame nae mair thou'lt craw, Her grave maun be her lowly nest, Her winding-sheet the wreathe o' snaw. 3. Thou lawless black-cock dinna spread In wooing of a silly dame, Who knows full well thy love's a flam, And that for her 'tis much the same, As raven's for the sickly lamb? 4. Begone thou heartless libertine, And locker in thy sheltered glade; For soon that motely love of thine, And thou shall both be lowly laid; Yet I will miss thee in the glen When August winds breathe o'er the fell, As mounting from thy braken den, Or skimmering o'er the heather bell. 5. The laverock lilts within the lift, The mavis touts upon the tree; The blackbird hardly makes a shift To strain one note of melody; 6. For the sand-lark I needs must wail And as he sits and wags his tail, And whews upon his cauldrife stane; He sees the lapper on the stream, And Yarrow's banks sae sternly piled, 7. The curlew's neb's a weary length, Through perfect downright consternation, An' ay they cower by holt an' ha' Like thriftless weavers in starvation. SANDY or SANDY-LAVEROCK is the local name in Et trick for the sand piper. 8. The shilfu clars amang the firs, The yellow yorline in the thorn, But a' the simmer's harbingers Are buried ere the break of morn, The lambs lie smothered in the dean, The ewes stand bleating loud an' lang, While the poor shepherd dights his een, And thinks the world is a' gane wrang. Mount Benger, April 24th, 1827. ANACREONTIC. By T. K. Hervey, Esq. THE moon is forth!-and while the cars And if the vines, in yonder sky, Drop for their train such purple tears, Which paints them singing in their spheres! Shall we, because Hope's fount is dry, At least, we'll strive to make them lighter! |