TO A YOUNG LADY. TOBIAS SMOLLETT. While with fond rapture and amaze My breast, by wary maxims steel'd, But when invok'd to beauty's aid, And every faculty opprest, Almighty Love invades my breast. When the rough north forgets to howl, No more shall flowers the meads adorn; No more shall joy in hope be found; When rolling seasons cease to change, When lavish May no more shall bloom; [These tender verses were probably addressed to Miss Anne Las. eelles, whom Smollett met with in the West Indies, and afterwards married. She survived the poet, and from her slender means erected a handsome monument to his memory in the burying ground at Leghorn. One of the great causes of Smollett's death, is said to have been grief for the loss of his daughter and only child, who was taken from him in her fifteenth year. From an epistle of Armstrong's addressed to John Wilkes, in 1760, we gather that this "opening rosebud” was not only growing in beauty, but growing in grace, when she was snatched away from him. With you at Chelsea, oft I may behold The hopeful bud of sense her bloom unfold.] MERRY MAY THE KEEL ROWE. As I came down the Canno'gate The keel rowe, the keel rowe, Merry may the keel rowe, The ship that my love's in, O! My love has breath o' roses, To fauld a lassie in O. Merry may the keel rowe, The keel rowe, the keel rowe, Merry may the keel rowe, The ship that my love's in, O! My love he wears a bonnet, A snawy rose upon it, A dimple on his chin, O. The keel rowe, the keel rowe, The ship that my love's in, O! [From Cromek's "Remains of Nithsdale and Galloway Song." svo. "It has," says Mr. Cromek, "the Jacobitical rose growing among its love sentiments." 1810. Mr. Cunningham in the Songs of Scotland, gave a different copy this Jacobitical song : As I came down through Cannobie, Through Cannobie, through Cannoble, And loud a lass did sing-o: My love has breath like roses sweet, There's not a wave that swells the sea, Wi' his bauld bands again-o. My lover wears a bonnet blue, of I HAE NAE KITH, I HAE NAE KIN. I hae nae kith, I hae nae kin, For the bonny lad that I lo'e best, He's gane wi' ane that was our ain, O, gin I were a bonny bird, Wi' wings that I might flee, To ane that's dear to me, The adder lies i' the corbie's nest, Aneath the corbie's wame; And the blast that reaves the corbie's brood And ane I darena name. ["This is a very sweet and curious little old song, but not very easily understood. The air is exceedingly simple, and the verses highly characteristic of the lyrical songs of Scotland."-HOGG.] |