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" To Learmont's pame no foot of earth

hunters were passing the night in a solitary bothy, (a Shall here again belong,

hut, built for the purpose of hunting, and making And, on thy hospitable hearth,

merry over their venison and whisky, one of them The hare shall leave her young.

expressed a wish that they had pretty lasses to comAdieu! adieu!” again he cried,

plete their party. The words were scarcely uttered, All as he turned him roun'

when two beautiful young women, habited in green, " Farewell to Leader's silver tide!

entered the but, dancing and singing. One of the Farewell to Ercildoune!”

hunters was seduced by the siren who attached herThe hart and hind approach'd the place,

self particularly to him, to leave the hut: the other

remained, and, suspicious of the fair seducers, conAs lingering yet he stood;

tinued to play upon a trump, or Jew's harp, some And there, before Lord Douglas' face,

strain, consecrated to the Virgin Mary. Day at With them he cross'd the flood.

length came, and the temptress vanished. Searching Lord Douglas leap'd on his berry-brown steed, in the forest, he found the bones of his unfortunate And spurr'd him the Leader o'er;

friend, who had been torn to pieces and devoured But, though he rode with lightning speed, by the fiend into whose toils he had fallen. The He never saw them more.

place was from thence called the Glen of the Green Some said to hill, and some to glen,

Their wondrous course had been;

Glenfinlas is a tract of forest-ground, lying in the But ne'er in haunts of living men

Highlands of Perthshire, not far from Callender, in Again was Thomas seen.

Menteith. It was formerly a royal forest, and now belongs to the Earl of Moray. This country, as well

as the adjacent district of Balquidder, was, in times GLENFINLAS;

of yore, chiefly inhabited by the Macgregors. To the west of the Forest of Glenfinlas lies Loch Ka

trine, and its romantic avenue, called the Trosbachs. LORD RONALD'S CORONACH."

Benledi, Benmore, and Benvoirlich, are mountains in the same district, and at no great distance from Glen

finlas. The river Teith passes Callender and the " For them the viewless forms of air obey,'

Castle of Doune, and joins the Forth near Stirling.
Their bidding beed, and at their beck repair ;

The Pass of Lenny is immediately above Callender,
Tbey know what spirit brews the stormful day,
And heartless oft, like moody madness stare,

and is the principal access to the Highlands, from To see the phantom-train their secret work prepare."

that town. Glenartney is a forest, near Bervoir

lich. The whole forms a sublime tract of Alpine The simple tradition, upon which the following scenery. stanzas are founded, runs thus: While two Highland This ballad first appeared in the Tales of Wonder..




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Coronach is the lamentation for a deceased warrior, sung by poetry, reappears in the Lady of the Lake, in Waverley, and in the aged of the clan.

Rob Roy.-ED.) [The scenery of this, the author's first serious attempt in

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But o'er his hills, in festal day,

How blazed Lord Ronald's beltane-tree,' While youths and maids the light strathspey

So nimbly danced with Highland glee! Cheer'd by the strength of Ronald's shell,

E'en age forgot his tresses hoar; But now the loud lament we swell,

O ne'er to see Lord Ronald more!
From distant isles a chieftain came,

The joys of Ronald's halls to find,
And chase with bim the dark-brown game,

That bounds o'er Albin's hills of wind. 'Twas Moy; whom in Columba's isle

The seer's prophetic spirit found," As, with a minstrel's fire the while,

He waked his harp's harmonious sound. Full many a spell to bim was known,

Which wandering spirits shrink to hear; And many a lay of potent tone,

Was never meant for mortal ear. For there, 'tis said in mystic mood,

High converse with the dead they hold, And oft espy the fated shroud,

That shall the future corpse enfold. O so it fell, that on a day,

To rouse the red deer from their den, The Chiefs have ta’en their distant way,

And scour'd the deep Glenfinlas glen. No vassals wait their sports to aid,

To watch their safety, deck their board; Their simple dress, the Highland plaid,

Their trusty guard, the Highland sword. Three summer days, through brake and dell,

Their whistling shafts successful flew; And still, when dewy evening fell,

The quarry to their hut they drew. In grey Glenfinlas' deepest nook

The solitary cabin stood, Fast by Moneira's sullen brook,

Which murmurs through that lonely wood. Soft fell the night, the sky was calm,

When three successive days had flown; And summer mist in dewy balm

Steep'd heathy bank, and mossy stone.

The moon, half-hid in silvery flakes,

Afar her dubious radiance shed, Quivering on Katrine’s distant lakes,

And resting on Benledi’s head. Now in their hut, in social guise,

Their silvan fare the Chiefs enjoy; And pleasure laughs in Ronald's eyes,

As many a pledge he quaffs to Moy. “ What lack we here to crown our bliss,

While thus the pulse of joy beats high? What, but fair woman's yielding kiss,

Her panting breath and melting eye? “To chase the deer of yonder shades,

This morning left their father's pile The fairest of our mountain maids,

The daughters of the proud Glengyle. “ Long have I sought sweet Mary's heart,

And dropp'd the tear, and heaved the sigh : But vain the lover's wily art,

Beneath a sister's watchful eye. “But thou mayst teach that guardian fair,

While far with Mary I am flown, Of other hearts to cease her care,

And find it hard to guard her own. " Touch but thy harp, thou soon shalt see

The lovely Flora of Glengyle, Unmindful of her charge and me,

Hang on thy notes, 'twixt tear and smile. “Or, if she choose a melting tale,

All underneath the greenwood bough, Will good St. Oran's rule prevail, 3

Stern huntsman of the rigid brow?”“Since Enrick's fight, since Morna's death,

No more on me shall rapture rise, Responsive to the panting breath,

Or yielding kiss, or melting eyes. “E'en then, when o'er the heath of woe,

Where sunk my hopes of love and fame, I bade my harp's wild wailings flow,

On me the Seer's sad spirit came. “ The last dread curse of angry heaven,

With ghastly sights and sounds of woe, To dash each glimpse of joy was given

The gift, the future ill to know.

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The fires lighted by the Highlanders on the first of May, in buried in Icolmkill. His pretensions to be a saint were rather compliance with a custom derived from the Pagan times, are dubious. According to the legend, he consented to be buried termed The Beltane-tree. It is a festival celebrated with various alive, in order to propitiate certain demons of the soil, who obsuperstitious rites, both in the north of Scotland and in Wales. structed the attempts of Columba to build a chapel. Columba

* I can only describe the second sight, by adopting Dr. John caused the body of his friend to be dug up, after three days had son's definition, who calls it “An impression, either by the mind elapsed; when Oran, to the horror and scandal of the assistants, upon the eye, or by the eye upon the mind, by which things declared, that there was neither a Gou, a judgment, nor a future distant and future are perceived and seen as if they were present." state! He had no time to make further discoveries, for Columba To which I would only add, that the spectral appearances, thus caused the earth once more to he shovelled over him with the presented, usually presage misforlune; that the facully is painful ntmost despatch. The chapel, however, and the cemetery, was to those who suppose they possess it; and that they usually acquire called Rclig Ouran; and, in memory of his rigid celibacy, no it while themselves under the pressure of melancholy.

female was permitted to pay her devotions, or be buried, in that 3 St. Oran was a friend and follower of St. Columba, and was place. This is the rule alluded to in the poem.

“ The bark thou saw'st, yon summer morn,

So gaily part from Oban's bay, My eye beheld her dash'd and torn,

Far on the rocky Colonsay. “Thy Fergus too—thy sister's son,

Thou saw'st, with pride, the gallant's power, As marching 'gainst the Lord of Downe,

He left the skirts of huge Benmore. “Thou only saw'st their tartans' wave,

As down Benvoirlich's side they wound, Heard'st but the pibroch,' answering brave

To many a target clanking round. " I heard the groans, I mark'd the tears,

I saw the wound his bosom bore, When on the serried Saxon spears

He pour’d bis clan's resistless roar. “And thou, who bidst me think of bliss,

And bidst my heart awake to glee, And court, like thee, the wanton kiss

That heart, O Ronald, bleeds for thee! “I see the death-damps chill thy brow;

I hear thy Warning Spirit cry; The corpse-lights dance-they're gone, and now...

No more is given to gifted eye!”. “ Alone enjoy thy dreary dreams,

Sad prophet of the evil hour !
Say, should we scorn joy's transient beams,

Because to-morrow's storm may lour ? " Or false, or sooth, thy words of woe,

Clangillian's Chieftain ne'er shall fear: His blood shall bound at rapture's glow,

Though doom'd to stain the Saxon spear. “E'en now, to meet me in yon dell,

My Mary's buskins brush the dew." He spoke, nor bade the Chief farewell,

But call’d his dogs, and gay withdrew. Within an hour return'd each hound;

In rush'd the rousers of the deer; They howld in melancholy sound,

Then closely couch'd beside the seer. No Ronald yet ; though midnight came,

And sad were Moy's prophetic dreams, As, bending o'er the dying slame,

He fed the watch-fire's quivering gleams. Sudden the hounds erect their ears,

And sudden cease their moaning howl; Close press’d to Moy, they mark their fears

By shivering limbs, and stifled growl. Untouch'd, the harp began to ring,

As softly, slowly, oped the door; And shook responsive every string,

As light a footstep press'd the floor.

And by the watch-fire's glimmering light,

Close by the minstrel's side was seen An huntress maid, in beauty bright,

All dropping wet her robes of green. All dropping wet her garments seem;

Chillid was her cheek, her bosom bare, As, bending o'er the dying gleam,

She wrung the moisture from her hair. With maiden blush she softly said,

“O gentle huntsman, hast thou seen, In deep Glenfinlas' moonlight glade,

A lovely maid in vest of green : "With her a Chief in Highland pride;

His shoulders bear the hunter's bow, The mountain dirk adorns his side,

Far on the wind his tartans flow?""And who art thou ? and who are they?”

All ghastly gazing, Moy replied : “And why, beneath the moon's pale ray,

Dare ye thus roam Glenfinlas' side?”“Where wild Loch Katrine pours her tide,

Blue, dark, and deep, round many an isle, Our father's towers o'erhang her side,

The castle of the bold Glengyle. “To chase the dun Glenfinlas deer,

Our woodland course this morn we bore, And haply met, while wandering here,

The son of great Macgillianore. “O aid me, then, to seek the pair,

Whom, loitering in the woods, I lost; Alone, I dare not venture there,

Where walks, they say, the shrieking ghost."“Yes, many a shrieking ghost walks there;”

Then first, my own sad vow to keep, Here will I pour my midnight prayer,

Which still must rise when mortals sleep.”— "O first, for pity's gentle sake,

Guide a lone wanderer on her way! For I must cross the haunted brake,

And reach my father's towers ere day.”-“ First, three times tell each Ave-bead,

And thrice a Pater-noster say; Then kiss with me the holy rede;

So shall we safely wend our way.”— “O shame to knighthood, strange and foul !

Go, doff the bonnet from thy brow, And shroud thee in the monkish cowl,

Which best belits thy sullen vow. “Not so, by high Dunlathmon's fire,

Thy heart was froze to love and joy, When gaily rung thy raptured lyre,

To wanton Morna's melting eye.”

· Tartans-The full Highland dress, made of the chequered stuff so termed.

· Pibroch-A piece of martial music, adapted to the Highland bagpipe.

Wild stared the minstrel's eyes of flame,

And high his sable locks arose, And quick his colour went and came,

As fear and rage alternate rose. "And thou! when by the blazing oak

I lay, to her and love resign'd, Say, rode ye on the eddying smoke,

Or sail'd ye on the midnight wind! “Not thine a race of mortal blood,

Nor old Glengyle's pretended line; Thy dame, the Lady of the Flood,

Thy sire, the Monarch of the Mine." He mutter'd thrice St. Oran's rhyme,

And thrice St. Fillan's powerful prayer;' Then turn’d him to the eastern clime,

And sternly shook his coal-black hair.
And, bending o'er his harp, he flung

His wildest witch-notes on the wind;
And loud, and high, and strange, they rung,

As many a magic change they find.
Tall wax'd the Spirit's altering form,

Till to the roof her stature grew;
Then, mingling with the rising storm,

With one wild yell away she flew.
Rain beats, hail rattles, whirlwinds tear :

The slender hut in fragments flew;
But not a lock of Moy's loose hair

Was waved by wind, or wet by dew. Wild mingling with the howling gale,

Loud bursts of ghastly laughter rise; High o'er the minstrel's head they sail,

And die amid the northern skies. The voice of thunder shook the wood,

As ceased the more than mortal yell ; And, spattering foul, a shower of blood

Upon the hissing firebrands fell.

Next dropp'd from high a mangled arm;

The fingers strain'd an half-drawn blade :
And last, the life-blood streaming warm,

Torn from the trunk, a gasping head.
Oft o'er that head, in battling field,

Stream'd the proud crest of high Benmore;
That arm the broad claymore could wield,

Which dyed the Teith with Saxon gore.
Woe to Moneira's sullen rills!

Woé to Glenfiulas' dreary glen!
There never son of Albin's hills

Shall draw the hunter's shaft agen!
E'en the tired pilgrim's burning feet

At noon shall shun that sheltering den,
Lest, journeying in their rage, he meet

The wayward Ladies of the Glen.
And we-behind the Chieftain's shield,

No more shall we in safety dwell;
None leads the people to the field-

And we the loud lament must swell.
O hone a rie'O hone a rie'!

The pride of Albin's line is o'er!
And fall'n Glenartney's stateliest tree;

We ne'er shall see Lord Ronald more!



Smaylho’me, or Smallholm Tower, the scene of the following ballad, is situated on the northern boundary of Roxburghshire, among a cluster of wild rocks, called Sandiknow-Crags, the property of Hugh Scott, Esq. of Harden. The tower is a high square building, surrounded by an outer wall, now ruinous. The circuit of the outer court, being defended on three sides, by a precipice and morass, is

· St. Fillan has given his name to many chapels, holy foun curious crown grant, dated 11th July, 1487, by which James III. tains, etc. in Scotland. He was, according to Camerarius, an confirms, lo Malice Doire, an inhabitant of Sirathillan, in PerthAbbot of Pittenween, in Fise; from which situation he retired, shire, the peaceable exercise and enjoyment of a relic of St. Fillan, and died a hermit in the wilds of Glenurchy, A. D. 649. While being apparently the head of a pastoral staff called the Quegrich, engaged in transcribing the Scriptures, his left hand was observed which he and his predecessors are said to have possessed since the to send forth such a splendour, as to afford light to that with days of Robert Bruce. As the Quegrich was used to cure diseases, which he wrote; a miracle which saved many candles to the this document is probably the most ancient patent ever granted for convent, as St. Fillan used to spend whole nights in that exercise. a quack medicine. The ingenious correspondent, by whom it is The 9th of January was dedicated to this saint, who gave his furnished, farther observes, that additional particulars, concerning name to Kilfillan, in Renfrew, and st. Phillans, or Forgend, in St. Fillan, are to be found in BELLENDEN's Boece, Book 4, folio Fise. Lesley, lib. 7, tells us, that Robert the Bruce was possessed ccxiii, and in PENNANT's Tour in Scotland, 1772, pp. 11. 15. of Fillan's miraculous and luminous arm, which he enclosed in [See a note on the lines in the first canto of Marmion.. a silver shrine, and had it carried at the head of his army. Pre

"Thence to St. Fillan's blessed well, vious to the battle of Bannockburn, the king's chaplain, a man

Wbose spring can frenzied dreams dispel, of little faith, abstracted the relic, and deposited it in some place

And the crazed brain restore, etc.—Ep. ] of security, lest it should fall into the hands of the English. But, lo! while Robert was addressing his prayers to the emply casket, having been the residence, in early life, of Mr. Walter Scott, who

" This place * is rendered interesting to poetical readers, by its it was observed to open and shut suddenly; and, on inspection,

has celebrated it in his “Eve of St. John.' To it he probably the saint was found to have himselfdeposited his arm in the shrine, as an assurance of victory. Such is the tale of Lesley. But

alludes in the introduction to the third canto of Marmion, though Bruce little needed that the arm of St. Fillan should assist

•Then rise those crags, that mountain tower, his own, he dedicated to him, in gratitude, a priory at Killin,

Which charmed my fancy's wakening hour.'"

Scots Mag. March, 1809. upon Loch Tay.

In the Scots Magazine for July, 1802, there is a copy of a very • The farm-house in the immediate vicioity of Smallholm.

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