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STORM--- Shipwreck.

FAREWEEL, BE HAPPY, ANE AN A. Yes, rage ye winds- I love to hear

To the of the

ES The tempest howling o'er the sea;

Fareweel-fareweel, in peace I part Though death on every wave appear

Wi' ġou, wha aye I thocht to lose; No bitterness it has for me;

There's ae warm corner i' my heart For hope and fear are nought to me,

For e'en the frien' that's chang'd to foe; I've learned to mock at misery;

An' O its dour to learn to hate, And joy and sorrow are forgot,

'I hem wha it liked, as soon's I saw: Or thought of—to be wondered at.

It kens na yet the wardlin's gate, Yes, howl, ye tempests, and discharge

An' hopes ye're happy, ane an'a'. In wrath your fury on my head;

An' maun I teach't suspicion's lore, On the fierce wave high rides my barge,

An' case't in doubtin's hard an' cauld? And darkness now has overspread

No !---though its wounded i' the core, The ocean--not a star on high

I'll roun" it still kind mem'ry fauld. In pity greets the seaman's eye.

O joy's hae been, unbocht by crime, Al's dark and gloomy as the heart,

Whan met wi' you in festive ha,' That fills this bosom-once 'twas light.

Or wooin' truth, in boyhood's prime,Farth's joys no more can bliss impart,

Still be ye happy, ane an'a'. And pleasure vainly would invite

An' i'll forget ye e'er did wrang,
To ta ste her cup once was too

Witbouten thocht it may hae been,
A thing-that pity could subdue ;
But scorned in love, by friendship stung,

Or, witless gied the heart a pang,
No wonder if my soul was wrung ;

Ye ne'er had bruised could ye hae sech ; And feeling scorned to have her goal,

But frien'ship I can ne'er forgetIn such a desolated soul.

Your faeship yet may melt awa:

I'll ne'er unkind pay back that debt, Howl on-the timber's rending cre

But wish ye happy, ane an'a'. Warns us we soon will be a wreck, 0! vainly will the seaman's wife

Fareweel !---whan years uncome hae past, Expect her lord's return with life.

An' reason lets na passion lead, She strikes-have mercy, God-'tis past,

Regrets ye'll maybe backward cast And many a soul hath breath'd its last.

For him--then dwaller wi the dead,

Wha' ne'er, willfu', did ye scaith, Dreadful to hear worn nature's shriek,

Or nursed a hate o' you avaStruggling for life upon the wave;

An' left ye-honour-ca'd--but laith, Where am I now-in mercy speak,

Fareweel, be happy, ane an'a'. Beyond the confines of the grave ?

P. Y. Jr. Methought the cup of death was drunk

Glasgow, May, 1822.
When breathless I expiring sunk,
And peace ineffable bad stole,
And wrapt in seeming bliss my soul;

A BOOK.
But O! how dreadful nature's strife
When forcing back departing life!

A poring wight, who, being wed,
For worlds I would not undergo

Was always reading in his bed, A second time that hour of woe.

His wife address'd with gentle look,

And said, I would I were a book! Well-it is past-but from my mind

* Why so, good dame?' the sage replied ; No power on earth can e'er erase

* Because you'd love me then, she cried. That bitter hour-but heaven is kind.

Why, that might be,' he straight rejoined I woke with wonder and amaze. But till the life-blood cease to stream,

But 'twould depend upon the kind

R. G I never can forget that dream.

An Almanack, for instance, dear,

• To have a new one every year.' Glasgow. * It has been remarked by persons who have been nenrly drowned, that after the pain of su mocation was past, a pleasing feeling stole over the senses ; but the pain selt on returning to life is described as dreadful, occasioned by the blood resuming its circulation.

NOTICES TO CORRESPONDENTS. The author of the piece signed A. I. will see from the description of a Storm, that his subject was an. ticipated, this piece being first on our list. We shall be glad to hear from him on some other subjech

Amicus will please to observe that his article cannot be inserted for the like reason.

We are sorry that we have oftended the incipient rhymer, Juvenis, by honouring his lines with a place in the Melange of last week, we take this opportunity of informing him, that they really were not inserted on account of merit, but as an encouragement to early genius, he having assured us of their being the first fruits of his muse; indeed we were confident of their being the production of some pretty little Juvenal at school, who, under the eye of his papa, or mamma, had strung together a few bad rhymes : we never imagined that we were printing the lucubrations of a critic in definition and accentuation. If he continues to rhyme, let him avoid such pedantic words, as that to which we ob jected. We hope this will be a sufficient apology for our' error. We have yet to learn, that Editors must not make alterations in the communications of anonymous correspondents. The Language and Poetry of Scotland; Evening; and Lines signed Endymion, are under consideration. Misery upon Misery will find a place in our next, as will also the Funeral Rusticus has nothing interesting, therefore it is not admissable.

Printed, published and sold, every Wednesday, by GEORGE PURVIS & Co. Successors to W. Tait, Lyceum Nelson Street, where communications, post paid, may be addressed to the Editor.

Sold also by Mr. Griffin, Public Library, Hutcheson Street; at the shops of the Principal Bookselleri, Glasgow. Also of the following Booksellers : John Hislop, Greenock; John Dick, Ayr, Thomas Dick, Paisley; Robert Mathie, Kilmarnock;. Malcolm Currie, Port-Glasgow; D. Conde, Rothesay; James Thomson, Hamilton; and M. Dick, Irvine; for ready money only.

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ON THE

of the Southern Kingdom. If ScotLANGUAGE AND POETRY OF

land had possessed poets between the SCOTLAND.

period of James VI. and Anne, and

if these poets had written in their naThe final union of the two king- tive tongue, with the genius of a Burns, doms under Queen Anne, was nearly the language would have acquired stafatal to the vernacular dialect of this bility, and defied the efforts of innocountry. Long before that period, vation and time. But with the solitary Scotland was without a court, and the exception of Buchanan, who lived in language of course fell into some de- the beginning of the reign of James, suetude; but while the Parliament re- and who wrote in a different tongue, mained, it still continued the standard Scotland had no such bards. The tongue, forming the medium of com- imaginative genius of the country was munication, not only between the dried up, and every species of intellect lower, but between the higher classes. turned intensely to polemical divinity. What the want of a court contributed In fact, the genius of the times was unto weaken, the want of a Parliament favourable to poetry. The disciples nearly overthrew. The higher orders, of Knox drew their stores, not from instead of confining themselves as for the heart, but from the understanding. merly to the capital of their own coun- They appealed to reason, and not to try, hastened to London ; and, as the fancy. Beneath the stern severity court was formed on an English inodel, which clouded them over, they were they naturally adopted the manners, too much agitated with their own the language, and the peculiarities of passions to attend to the purer and England. This change descended to more ethereal feelings of poetry. the inferior classes of society; and al- There were indeed many ballads and though the strongly-rooted prejudices songs of exquisite beauty then, and of the Scots disputed every inch of long before, peculiar to Scotland ground against innovation, yet the Traditional and legendary tales existed patriots of that country foresaw, with almost from time immemorial, and grief, that these antipathies must abate, Hamilton of Bangotır, and Drummond and that not merely the manners, but of Hawthornden gave an evanescent and likewise the language of Scotland, must short-lived popularity to Scottish pogradually wear out, and be lost in those etry.. But, after the reign of Anne, Scotland was fast loosing hier peculi- the love verses of Hammond, were arities, and though the · Flowers of tame, compared with the · Gentle the Forest,' and various other pieces Shepherd.' Their · Corydon's,' and showed what a pure spirit might breathe Delia's,' and Amyryllis's,' were fanin the northern idiom, they were but tastic, unnatural conceptions, when set wild and scattered gems in the desert beside the warm well-drawn characters -gems whose brightness would last of the Scottish bard. for ever, but would be inevitably hid The appearance of Ramsay in the by othersless beautiful than themselves! world of imagination, was hailed with But a few scattered songs, by nameless delight by his countrymen. A new bards, could never restore the language life was breathed upon the language. of Scotland. She wanted a poet to It spoke of things it had long forgotten

spread over it an enduring vigour-to to exhibit, and diffused itself like a : rescue it from the odium of vulgarity fresh current over a channel, which which, as a provincial speech, it began was on the eve of becoming dry. to acquire. Even among the Scots, The Gentle Shepherd' found its way

poetical, national, and enthusiastically into every cottage, and we might say · fond as they are, of their native poetry, into every palace. In the simple de

their songs, beautiful as they were, tails of the pastoral drama every one failed in reviving a language which recognised Scottish manners, as they was fast wearing away.

To restore then existed among the shepherds. this diminished energy, a new stimulus And, it is to be hoped, as they still i was required. A new spirit had to exist. It forced itself into unparalelled

be born. A fresh popularity and im- popularity by faithfulness, heightened pulse were all demanded to reanimate with the legitimate art of poetry the Scottish muse. This, Scotland | There was no meretricious ornament.

had the fortune to find in Allan Ram- Every incident was such as might have { .saya man whose genius would have happened, and every charaeter drawn ( honoured any age, and who is justly with the truth of nature itself.

considered the restorer of the poetry Ramsay then was the restorer of of his native land. Had Allan Ram- the Scottish tongue, but when we con

say not existed, the Scottish dialect sider the long era between his death, v: would have been lost-irretrievably and the appearance of another, deserv: lost. At the time of his appearance, ing the name of a Scottish poet, we

it was sinking every day lower and will not be surprised, that even his · lower. . Every one who laid claim to writings, beautiful as they are, should

polish and learning endeavoured to get fail in giving it lasting stability. The rid of it as fast as possible, but Ramsay causes which prompted the eradication arrested the current. He showed that of the dialect still existed : he deadhis native tongue had a purity-an ened their force by showing the beauty expressiveness a simplicity and pathos of the language ; but a solitary bard of its own.

He exhibited its beauties could not contend with time: the in strains, which neither Addison, nor beating enthusiasm his writings at first Pope, nor Gay, or any of his great excited could not endure for evercontemporaries could surpass, and in He had impeded the current, but he faet, produced a poem which, in its had not stopped it. It still went on, kind, has no equal in the English though more slowly, and swept the language. The polished pastorals of reluctant dialect of Scotland along with Pope, Shenstone, and Phillips, and' it. The languaye of the north, in

3

truth, was so rapidly wearing out, have achieved with longer and happier that Dr.Johnson, in 1771, remarked life, it is needless to conjecture ; but it was seldom heard in polished soci- excellent as these talents were, they ety, except from the mouth of an old produced nothing equal to Ramsay's lady.

poems. The Gentle Shepherd,' • The Between the time of Ramsay and Vision,' • The Monk and Miller's Burns, Scotland possessed many inen Wife,' and the continuation of« Christ's of high poetical genius. Thomson, Kirk on the Green.' Beattie, Home, and Mickle, had We may say then, that, for nearly ranked themselves among the first half a century, the dialect of Scotland order of classic poets, and Smol- stood without literary support. It let had written verses, worthy of Col- merely floated on the breath of the lins himself. But although the north people. Except the writings of Ramsay had the honour of giving birth to these and the unequal · Evergreen,' published eminent men, yet they were not, pro- by him and his associates, it had noperly speaking, Scottish poets. Though thing to which it could refer for nawith the birth and feelings of Scotsinen, tive excellence. But at the very time, they did not write in the language.- when it was again sinking fast into Their works were written for no age, vulgarity—at the very time, when the or country ;-they suited equally the high and the learned were banishing it soil of England; and all that Scotland from their speech, as an impure dialect peculiarly derived, was the pride of the wonderful ploughman of Ayrbeing parent to such illustrious sons. shire made his appearance. Gifted

Robert Fergusson made his appear- with boundless enthusiasm ardent ance shortly before Burns rose into national feelingsintense depth of celebrity, and wrote many pieces of character-arich vigorous intellect, and great merit in the Scottish dialect; matchless facility of expression, Burns but his influence in restoring it was entered the field. Rivalry was at an feeble, compared to that of his great end. The highest poets of the day successor. His works laid claim to stood rebuked in the presence of the elegance, to ease, and to occasional wonderful ploughman---the poetasters touches of pathos and humour; but threw down their pens in despair, and they possessed none of the broad un- criticism surveyed his performances with bridled excellence of the bard of Ayr. delight and awe. Cowper and BeatThe spirit that breathed upon them tie, who held the sceptres of poetry in was blander, but infinitely less diver- England and Scotland, felt them tremsified. His humour drew forth the ble in their grasp, as they looked on smile, Burris's produced the laugh.- this new rival. His touches of the pathetic made the The dialect required such a man gentle heart of woman thrill ; but those as Burns to inspire it with new vigour. of Burns drew tears, even from the What Ramsay performed sixty years more unwilling eyes of man. He before, he had now to repeat; but in touched the harp with the graceful proportion as the task was more diffihand of a stripling; but Burns threw cult, he was gifted with greater powers. along its strings; the hand of a giant. He seemed, in truth, one of the anPosterity, the ultimate and legitimate cient minstrels of Scotland restored ; judge of all literary merit, has done for his poems had not the laboured right in placing Fergusson behind Al- melody and grace of modern prolan Ramsay. What his talents might ductions, but possessed the freshness,

more

originality, and almost roughness, of in the neighbouring grove, would tell more the oldest ballads. Whoever read sweetly upon the ear, than the swelling them, saw that they came pure, impas- Even the nymplrs that have engaged our

symphonies of the sprightly ball-room. sioned, and glowing, from the author's affections, acquire by absence a heart. Every verse abounded in lofty elevation in our esteem; and, in the thoughts that breathe, and words that sallies of our imagination, do we adorn burn; every line was dipped in in- them with a more exact symmetry of form, spiration. Under such an intellect, features, a thousand superadded charms,

and throw around their before-graceful the national language once more re- and then hug the lovely phantoms, till the vived ; and how could it be otherwise ? bubble bursts, and we awake to our real for his songs were sung in every quarter -ituation, and mentally put the humiliatof his native land, and abounded in a

ing query to ourselves Where are they? warmth and beauty, which it would vations, may be greatly extenuated, though

But the feelings arising from these prihave been sacrilege to denominate vul- not annihilated, by the kindness of those gar. To use the language of Mr. around us ; we may find, in a soil foreign Campbell, his poems acted • like the to that which gave us birth, all the offices elixir of life on his native tongue'-and of unadultered friendship; we may expe

rience all the endearments of social syinby the same high authority we are told pathy from the conduct and conversation that, in the whole compass of Scottish of those, who claim no nearer ties of affipoetry, there are not alone six songs nity to us, than that of being the descenequal to the best of his.

dants of old father Adam ; we may meet To be continued.

with the soul, who studiously anticipates the state of our minds, who embarks in our

every concern, and with unreniitting and RAMBLES IN CUMBERLAND.

disinterested assiduity, throws a comparaNo. I.

tive brightness around what is gloomy, and

a brighter lustre over what is pleasurable, A MELIA.

in our every day experiences,

* Friendship, mysterious cement of the soul, It has been often observed, that we never Sweetner of life, and solder of society,' -Blain telish aright the sweets that render life Such friendship, and such a friend, agreeable, till we are in danger of being found I in the Doctor, whom I met accorddeprived of them. The same may holdtrue ing to previous agreement; the former with regard to our native place; we look gaiety of his countenance was clouded by on the objects around us with comparative a covering of gravity, which he had drawn indifference, till, by some unavoidable con- over it. I inquired the reason of this tingency, we are removed far from them; metamorphosis. Without answering my a full noontide of endearing recollections question, he put into my hand a small card, then rush into our memories, and paints, which requested him to visit a friend, who in the most fascinating colours, the dear had been long in a declining state of health. place of our nativity, It boots not how in- I looked into his face, and thought I saw significant that place may be in the annals engraven on it, 'will you accompany me." of the world: the blooming hawthorn, In order to prove my skill in phsiognomy, where we trifled away our childhood in I linked my arm in his, we proceeded in a little frivolities, would then be viewed with south-west direction from Wgreater emotions of pleasure, than that we came to an avenue, that led to the which, with its purple juices, fills the flow- right, which was fenced on either side by ing bowl: the verdant landscape that teems hedges of beech, and alternately planted with variegated beauty, and spreads its en- with willows and ossiers. As the house of chanting prospect far and wide, around the Mrs. Simons was situated at the foot of rural habitation, would be viewed with this avenue, we soon arrived there, and was more intense interest, than the hum of cordially received hy the old lady, and crowded cities, or the everchanging tur- shown by her into the parlour, where moil, that characterises the haunts of busy Amelia was lying. I eyed her attentively. commerce. The music of the serenaders, I she was evidently hastening to that.

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