Yet was Rob Roy as wise as brave;
Forgive me if the phrase be strong;—
A Poet worthy of Rob Roy

Must scorn a timid song.

Say, then, that he was wise as brave;
As wise in thought as bold in deed:
For in the principles of things

He sought his moral creed.

Said generous Rob, 'What need of books?
Burn all the statutes and their shelves:
They stir us up against our kind;
And worse, against ourselves.

'We have a passion-make a law,
Too false to guide us or control!
And for the law itself we fight
In bitterness of soul.

'And, puzzled, blinded thus, we lose Distinctions that are plain and few : These find I graven on my heart:

That tells me what to do.

'The creatures see of flood and field,
And those that travel on the wind!
With them no strife can last; they live
In peace, and peace of mind.

For why?-because the good old rule
Sufficeth them, the simple plan,

That they should take, who have the power,
And they should keep who can.

'A lesson that is quickly learned,
A signal this which all can see !
Thus nothing here provokes the strong
To wanton cruelty.

'All freakishness of mind is checked;
He tamed, who foolishly aspires;
While to the measure of his might

Each fashions his desires.

'All kinds, and creatures, stand and fall
By strength of prowess or of wit:
'Tis God's appointment who must sway,

And who is to submit.

'Since, then, the rule of right is plain,
And longest life is but a day;
To have my ends, maintain my rights,
I'll take the shortest way.'

And thus among these rocks he lived,
Through summer heat and winter snow :
The Eagle, he was lord above,

And Rob was lord below.

So was it would, at least, have been
But through untowardness of fate;
For Polity was then too strong—
He came an age too late;

Or shall we say an age too soon?
For, were the bold Man living now,
How might he flourish in his pride,
With buds on every bough!

Then rents and factors, rights of chase,
Sheriffs, and lairds and their domains,
Would all have seemed but paltry things,
Not worth a moment's pains.

Rob Roy had never lingered here,

To these few meagre Vales confined;

But thought how wide the world, the times
How fairly to his mind!

And to his Sword he would have said,
'Do Thou my sovereign will enact
From land to land through half the earth!

Judge thou of law and fact!

''Tis fit that we should do our part,

Becoming that mankind should learn
That we are not to be surpassed

In fatherly concern.

'Of old things all are over old,

Of good things none are good enough :-
We'll show that we can help to frame
A world of other stuff.

'I, too, will have my kings that take
From me the sign of life and death:
Kingdoms shall shift about, like clouds,
Obedient to my breath.'

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70

80

90

And, if the word had been fulfilled,
As might have been, then, thought of joy!
France would have had her present Boast,
And we our own Rob Roy !

Oh! say not so; compare them not;
I would not wrong thee, Champion brave!
Would wrong thee nowhere; least of all
Here standing by thy grave.

For Thou, although with some wild thoughts,

Wild Chieftain of a savage Clan!

Hadst this to boast of; thou didst love
The liberty of man.

And, had it been thy lot to live
With us who now behold the light,
Thou wouldst have nobly stirred thyself,
And battled for the Right.

For thou wert still the poor man's stay,
The poor man's heart, the poor man's hand;
And all the oppressed, who wanted strength,
Had thine at their command.

Bear witness many a pensive sigh

Of thoughtful Herdsman when he strays
Alone upon Loch Veol's heights,

And by Loch Lomond's braes.

And, far and near, through vale and hill,
Are faces that attest the same;

The proud heart flashing through the eyes,

At sound of ROB Roy's name.

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110

120

Between 1803 and 1805

XII

D

EGENERATE Douglas! oh, the unworthy Lord!

Whom mere despite of heart could so far please,

And love of havoc, (for with such disease

Fame taxes him,) that he could send forth word

To level with the dust a noble horde,
A brotherhood of venerable Trees,
Leaving an ancient dome, and towers like these,
Beggared and outraged!-Many hearts deplored
The fate of those old Trees; and oft with pain
The traveller, at this day, will stop and gaze
On wrongs, which Nature scarcely seems to heed:
For sheltered places, bosoms, nooks, and bays,
And the pure mountains, and the gentle Tweed,
And the green silent pastures, yet remain.

Sept. 1803

ΤΟ

XIII

YARROW UNVISITED

SEE the various Poems the scene of which is laid upon the banks of the
Yarrow; in particular, the exquisite Ballad of Hamilton beginning-

'Busk ye, busk ye, my bonny, bonny Bride,
Busk ye, busk ye, my winsome Marrow!'

F

ROM Stirling castle we had seen
The mazy Forth unravelled;
Had trod the banks of Clyde, and Tay,
And with the Tweed had travelled;
And when we came to Clovenford,
Then said my 'winsome Marrow,'
'Whate'er betide, we'll turn aside,
And see the Braes of Yarrow.'

'Let Yarrow folk, frae Selkirk town,
Who have been buying, selling,
Go back to Yarrow, 'tis their own;
Each maiden to her dwelling!
On Yarrow's banks let herons feed,
Hares couch, and rabbits burrow!

But we will downward with the Tweed,
Nor turn aside to Yarrow.

'There's Galla Water, Leader Haughs,

Both lying right before us;

And Dryborough, where with chiming Tweed

The lintwhites sing in chorus;

There's pleasant Tiviot-dale, a land

Made blithe with plough and harrow:

Why throw away a needful day
To go in search of Yarrow?

ΤΟ

20

'What's Yarrow but a river bare,

That glides the dark hills under?
There are a thousand such elsewhere

As worthy of your wonder.'

-Strange words they seemed of slight and scorn; My True-love sighed for sorrow;

And looked me in the face, to think

I thus could speak of Yarrow !

'Oh! green,' said I, 'are Yarrow's holms,

And sweet is Yarrow flowing!

Fair hangs the apple frae the rock,1

But we will leave it growing.

O'er hilly path, and open Strath,
We'll wander Scotland thorough;

But, though so near, we will not turn
Into the dale of Yarrow.

'Let beeves and home-bred kine partake
The sweets of Burn-mill meadow,
The swan on still St. Mary's Lake
Float double, swan and shadow!
We will not see them; will not go,
To-day, nor yet to-morrow;
Enough if in our hearts we know
There's such a place as Yarrow.

6 Be Yarrow stream unseen, unknown! It must, or we shall rue it :

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40

We have a vision of our own;

50

Ah! why should we undo it?

The treasured dreams of times long past,

We'll keep them, winsome Marrow! For when we're there, although 'tis fair, 'Twill be another Yarrow !

'If Care with freezing years should come, And wandering seem but folly,

Should we be loth to stir from home,

And yet be melancholy;

Should life be dull, and spirits low,

"Twill soothe us in our sorrow,

That earth has something yet to show,
The bonny holms of Yarrow!'

1 See Hamilton's Ballad as above.

1803

60