M ! — a! EOBERT GILFILLAN. 17' An' ae sudden blight on the gentle heart fa'in, For the woes, or in ire for the errors of youth f Inflicts the deep wound nothing earthly can To speak of thy parent's companionship past, heal. Or proclaim that thy master will follow thee The simmer saw Ronald on glory's path hicin'; fast? The autumn, his corse on the red battletiel'; ark-dove, commissioned to say The winter the maiden found heartbroken, dyin'; Comest thou like waters of life are fast ebbing away, An' spring spread the green turf owor Mary That the tempest-toss'd bark be at Macneil. And soon shall my rest ? Or, avenger of talent-buds recklessly slain. Art thou sent like the mark to the forehead of TO MY FIRST GRAY HAIR. Cain ? Thou art silent, but deeply my heart is fmpress'd Herald of old age, or offspring of care, \Yith all thy appearance should stimulate How shall I greet thee ? my first gray hair there it lessons, first gray hair Comest thou a soother, or censor i in ruth May cherish thy my EOBEET GILFILLAN Born 179S — Died 1850. for compos- Robert Gilfill.vx was born, July 7, 1798, While thus engaged he found time A-olume of Ori'ji- at Dunfermline, in tlie county of Fife. His ing, and in 1831 published a parents were in humble circumstances, but nal Soiiijs, Avhich was favourably received. were much respected in their neighbourhood. Encouraged by his succe.ss, Gilfillan i.ssued in Robert, their second son, received the rudi- 1835 another edition, containing fifty addi- ments of his education at a Dunfermline school, tional songs. Soon after the publication of entertained at a public and at tiie age of thirteen his parents removed this volume lie was splendid silver to Leith, where he was bound apprentice to dinner in Edinburgh, when a he was the trade of a cooper. To this handicraft, cup was presented to him. In 1837 however, he seems never to have taken kindly; appointed collector of police-rates at Leith— which lie retained yet he faithfully served his employers the usual highly respectable position, he published a ihird -period of seven years, giving liis earnings from until his death. In 1839 his original volume, week to week to his mother, and enlivening and still larger edition of being added to the his leisure hours by reading every book lie sixty new songs and poems died of apoplexy at could borrow, composing verses, and playing collection. Mr. Gilfillan Leith, Dec. 1850, aged on a one-keyed flute, which he purchased with Hermitage Place, 4, was erected a small sum of money found by him in the fifty -two. A handsome monument admirers over his grave streets of Leith. It was at this time, and ever by a few friends and Leith, where also afterward, his practice to read to his mother in the churchyard of South remains of John Home, the eminent and sister (he never married) his songs as he rest the wrote them; and he was entirely guided by dramatic poet. death a fourth edition of their judgment regarding them. This was an The year after his Edinburgh, improvement on Moli^re and his housekeeper. his poetical works was published in memoir of the gentle poet, At the end of his apprenticeship he became with an interesting frequently referred to in the Xoctes an assistant to a grocer in his native town, who is Ettrick Shepherd as the with whom he remained for three years. He Ambrosiauce by the Leith." His biographer subsequently returned to Leith, and from his "fine chiel doun at fills a place in Scottish poetry twenty-third till his thirty-ninth year acted says— "He difterent and distinct from any of as clerk for an extensive wine-merchant. altogether YoL. II.— — —— — 178 ROBEET GILFILLAN. the acknowledged masters of Scottish song. peculiar walk, that ( f home and the domestic He is certainly not so universal as Burns, nor affections, he has slo.vn a command of happy so broad and graphic a delineator of Scottish thought and imagery, in which it may be manners as Eamsaj', Fergusson, or Hogg, nor truly said that he has not been excelled as a is he so keenl.y alive to the beauties of external poet of nature by any of his predecessors, with nature as Eobert Tanuahiil; but in his own the exception only of Burns himself." There's mony a wee biggin', in forest and glen, THE AUTUMN WINDS ARE BLAWING. Wi' its clean sandit floor, an' its hut and its ben, Where there's mair o' that peace whilk content- ment aye brings. The autumn winds are bla\\ing, red leaves are Than is found in the palace o' princes or kings. fa'ing, An' nature is mourning the simmer's decay; We canna get fortune, we canna get fame. The wee birdies singing, the wee flowerets spring- canna behind us a' leave a bit name; ing, We But this we can a' hae, and 0! 'tis na' sma', Hae tint a' their sangs, an' wither'd away! A heart fu' o' kindness to ane and to a'! I, too, am mourning, for death has nae returning, Where are my bairnies, the young an' the gay! they say ^V]ly should they perish?—the blossoms we They say that life's short, and dinna cherish wrang, The beautiful are sleeping cauld in the clay! For the langest that live can ne'er ca' it lang; Then, since it is sae, make it pleasant the while; wi' a smile. Fair was their morning, their beauty adorning, If it gang by sae soon, let it gang The mavis sang sweet at the closing o' day; Now the winds are raving, the green grass is Wha e'er climbs the mountain maun aye risk a fa', waving. While he that is lowly is safe frae it a', sae O'er the buds o' innocence canld in the clay! The flower blooms unscathed in the valley Ilka night brings sorrow, grief comes ilk mori-ow deep. Should gowden locks fade before the auld an' While the storm rends the aik on its high reeky gray? steep! But still, still they're sleeping, wi' nae care nor weeping, My highest ambition—if such be a crime swift o' time; The robin sits chirping ower their cauld clay! Is quietly to glide down the stream And when the brief voyage in safety is o'er. In loveliness smiling, ilka day beguiling. To meet with loved friends on the far distant In joy and in gladness, time murmured by; shore! What now were pleasure, wi' a' the warld's trea- sure ? My heart's in the grave where my fair blossoms lie! The autumn winds are blawing, red leaves are MANOR BRAES. fa'ing. Moaning is the gale as it rides on its way; Where Manor stream rins blithe and clear, A wild music's sighing, it seems a voice crying, And Castlehill's white wa's appear, " Hapi^y is that land that knows no decay!" I spent ae day, aboon a' days. By Manor stream, 'mang Manor braes. The purple heath was just in bloom. And bomiie waved the upland broom. The flocks on flowery braes lay still. 0! WHAT IS THIS WORLD? Or, heedless, wander'd at their will. 'mid Nature's calm repose, 0! what is this world, wi' its wealth and renown, 'Twas there, clearest, saftest flows, If content is awanting ilk pleasure to crown ? Where Manor And where that does dwell, be't in cot e'er sae I met a maiden, fair to see, low. Wi' modest look and bashfu' e'e; There's a joy and a gladness nae wealth can be- Her beauty to the mind did bring stow. A morn when summer blends wi' spring, ; ; EGBERT GILFILLAN. 179 our ain sorrows and So bright, so pure, so calm, so fair, Nae doot, we have hacn 'Twas bliss to look—to linger there! troubles, Aften times pouchestoom, and hearts fu'o'care; Ilk word cam frae her bosom warm, But still, wi' our crosses, our sorrows and losses. Wi' love to win and sense to charm, Contentment, be thankit,hasaycbeeuourshare! So much of nature, nought of art, I've an' auld rusty sword that was left by my father, She'll live enthroned within my heart! Whilk ne'er shall be drawn till our king has a Aboon her head the laverock sang. fae; And 'neath her feet the wild-flowers sprang. We ha'e friends ane or twa, that aft gie us a ca'. Oh! let me dwell where beauty strays, To laugh when we're happy, or grieve when By Manor stream an' Manor braes. we're wae. laird may ha'e gowd mair than schoolmen I speir'd gif ane sae young an' fair The can reckon. Knew aught of love, wi' a' its care? to watch ilka glance o' his e'e; She said her heart frae love was free, An' flunkies aye braw, may sit in her ha', But aye she blush'd wi' douncast e'e. His lady, mair happy than Janet an me? The parting cam, as partings come, But are they kent the straught road to be happy, Wi' looks that speak, though tongues be dumb; A' ye wha ne'er are nae content wi' the lot that ye dree, Yet I'll return, ere many days. Wha down to the dwallin' of whilk I've been To live and love 'mang Manor braes! Come telling, Ye'se learn it by looking at Janet an' me! JANET AN' ME.