eerie en ana SRNR:
. Tr ee
MEMORIES
OF
CANADA AND SCOTLAND.
RIC DA
< U
LA)
MEMORIES
OF
CANADA AND SCOTLAND
SPEECHES AND VERSES BY THE
RIGHT HON. THE MARQUIS OF LORNE K.T., G.CM.G., &c.
MONTREAL
BROTHERS, PUBLISHERS 1884
DAWSON
Entered by Dawson BrotHErs, according to Act of Parliament ot Canada, in the year 1883, in the office of the Minister of Agriculture.
Dedicated WITH RESPECT AND AFFECTION TO THE MEMBERS
OF
THE ROYAL SOCIETY OF CANADA
CANAD! QUEBEC PROLOG CANADI: CANADI: THE CA} MILICET’ THE GUI THE STR THE ORI THE ISLE THE MYs WINI WESTWAR THE SON¢ THE PRAI CREE FAI! THE ‘‘Qu THE BLAC
CONTENTS.
VERSES ON CANADIAN SUBFECTS,
PAGE CANADA, 1882. ‘ ‘ , : ‘ 3 QUEBEC . ‘ P ' ; ; 5 PROLOGUE—GOVERNMENT HOUSE, MARCH 15879 . a 8 CANADIAN NATIONAL HYMN . ‘ ° . ; . 14 CANADIAN RIVER RHYMES. ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ é 7 THE CANADIAN ROBIN . ‘ ; ‘ ; : . 19 MILICETE LEGEND OF THE RIVER ST. JOHN. : ioe THE GUIDE OF THE MOHAWKS . : ‘ , 98 THE STRONG HUNTER . ‘ ; , ; ‘ . THE ORIGIN OF THE INDIAN CORN . ; . a THE ISLES OF HURON . ‘ : ‘ ‘ ; . =a THE MYSTIC ISLE OF THE “LAND OF THE NORTH WIND”, : ‘ . . ‘ : ~ WESTWARD HO! ‘ ‘ . ; : é a THE SONG OF THE SIX SISTERS . ‘ : : — THE PRAIRIE ROSES ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ . CREE FAIRIES . ; ‘ ‘ : ; : ; . 46 THE ‘‘QU’APPELLE” VALLEY. ; . ; ‘ . 48
THE BLACKFEET . ° e e ° . ° ° 50
AIM NEMTONT Cine. So Oe diye nteen gh
ane RN NBR
Vill
SAN GABRIEL, ON THE PACIFIC COAST . NIAGARA .
ON CHIEF MOUNTAIN
CUBA
ON THE NEW PROVINCE ‘* ALBERTA”
CONTENTS.
VERSES CHIEFLY FROM HIGHLAND STORIES.
GAELIC LEGENDS
COLHORN .
LOCH BUY
THE HARD STRAIT OF THE FEINNE TOBERMORY BAY, 1588 LOCH UISK, ISLE OF MULL THE LADY’S ROCK THE POOL OF THE IRON SHIRT INVERAWE AN ISLESMAN’S FAREWELL PREFACE TO DIARMID’S STORY
GRINIE’S FLIGHT WITH DIARMID
THE DEATH OF THE BOAR
KING ARTHUR AND THE CAPTIVE MAIDEN SEANN ORAN GAILIC
DUNOLLY’S DAUGHTER
THE ARMADA GUN.
CAVALRY CHARGE—KONIGGRATZ
THE IRISH EMIGRANT, 1880
THE IRISH EMIGRANT, 1883
SONG
SONNET ON THE DEATH OF LORD F.
67 68 75
o) 7
) 94
SADOWA ON A F STA.
FAREWEI EMBARKI REPLY Tc TO THE M AT MONT] AT MONTE AT OTTAW AT OTTAW AT KINGS] OF LA
AT KINGs COLLE
AT KINGST COLLE
AT MONTR 1879 .
AT MONTRE AT QUEBEC- TION ,
AT QUEBEC AT TORONT
AT ST. JOHN
AT ST. JOH
CORPORA
CONTENTS.
SADOWA . : ‘ ; , ON A FOREIGN WAR-SHIP’S SALUTE TO THE QUEEN'S STANDARD
SPEECHES AND ADDRESSES.
FAREWELL ADDRESS AT INVERARAY ; ‘
EMBARKING AT LIVERPOOL
REPLY TO THE LIVERPOOL CHAMBER OF COMMERCE
TO THE MUNICIPALITY OF LONDONDERRY
AT MONTREAL—TO THE ST. ANDREWS SOCIETY
AT MONTREAL—REPLY TO THE CITIZENS’ ADDRESS
AT OTTAWA—REPLY TO THE CITIZENS’ ADDRESS
AT OTTAWA—DISTRIBUTION OF SCHOOL PRIZES
AT KINGSTON—ON RECEIVING THE DEGREE OF DOCTOR OF LAWS OF QUEEN’S COLLEGE
AT KINGSTON—TO THE UNIVERSITY OF QUEEN’S COLLEGE
AT KINGSTON—TO THE CADETS OF THE ROYAL MILITARY COLLEGE
AT MONTREAL--REVIEW ON THE QUEEN’S BIRTHDAY, 1879 .
AT MONTREAL—OPENING OF AN ART INSTITUTE
AT QUEBEC—REPLY TO ADDRESS OF THE CITY CORPORA- TION .
AT QUEBEC—LAVAL UNIVERSITY
AT TORONTO—TORONTO CLUB DINNER .
AT ST. JOHN, N.B.. ’ . : ‘
AT ST. JOHN, N.B,X—REPLY TO ADDRESS OF THE CITY
CORPORATION . ; ; :
1X
PAGE
173
175
179 181 183 185 186 188 190 192
198
200
|
nn oy .
tees scecatretiresfacesterss
x CONTENTS.
AT TREDERICYON—REPLY TO ADDRESS OF THE CITY CORPORATION
IN KINGS’ COUNTY, N.B.—REPLY TO ADDRESS OF THE MUNICIPALITY .
AT TORONTO—REPLY ‘TO ADDRESS OF THE CITY CORPORATION
AT BERLIN, ONTARIO—REPLY TO ADDRESS OF THE GERMAN RESIDENTS .
AT OTTAWA—EXHIBITION OF 1880 .
AT OTTAWA—ENXHIBITION OF THE ROYAL CANADIAN ACADEMY OF ART
AT QUEBEC—FESTIVAL OF ST. JEAN BAPTISTE.
AT HAMILTON—OPENING OF PROVINCIAL FAIR
AT MONTREAL—OPENING OF PROVINCIAL FAIR
AT MONTREAL—LAYING THE FOUNDATION STONE OF THE REDPATH MUSEUM OF THE M GILL COLLEGE
AT CHAMBLY—UNVEILING THE STATUE OF COLONEL DE SALABERRY
AT ST. THOMAS—GATHERING OF HIGHLANDERS
AT WINNIPEG—IMPRESSIONS OF A TOUR IN THE NORTH- WEST.
AT WINNIPEG —SOCIETY OF ST. JEAN BAPTISTE OF MANITOBA.
AT WINNIPEG—REPLY TO ADDRESS OF THE ARCHBISHOP OF ST. BONIFACE—MANITOBA
AT WINNIPEG—REPLY TO ADDRESS OF THE BOARD OF MANAGEMENT OF MANITOBA COLLEGE
AT FORT SHAW, MONTANA —FAREWELL TO THE NORTH:
WEST MOUNTED POLICE . ;
AT OTTAWA—INCEPTION OF THE ROYAL SOCIETY OF
CANADA
PAGE
a iinet.
i |
AT OTTAWA
AT QUEBEC
AT SAN
BRI’
AT VICT<
AT OTT
ASSO
AT OTTA)
OF Cy
AT TORO
ACAD)
ARTIS
AT OTTAW.
OF CA) RFPLY
EXTRACT F,
AT TORONT
TURES
AT TORONT
PARK
PORATI
CORPOR:
OF THE
AGE
OF
CONTENTS.
AT SAN FRANCISCO, CAL —REPLY TO ADDRESS OF THE
BRITISH RESIDENTS
AT VICTORIA, B.C.—SPEECH AT A PUBLIC DINNER .
AT
AT
OTTAWA—MEETING OF THE NATIONAL RIFLE ASSOCIATION OTTAWA—SECOND MEETING OF THE ROYAL SOCIETY OF CANADA .
TORONTO—REPLY TO ADDRESSES OF THE ROYAL.
ACADEMY AND OF THE ONTARIO SOCIETY OF ARTISTS ; : . °
AT OTTAWA—FAREWELL ADDRESS OF THE PARLIAMENT
OF CANADA .
RF PLY
EXTRACT FROM THE SPEECH FROM THE THRONE
AT
AT
AT
AT
AT
APPENDIX.
TORONTO—EXHIBITION OF ARTS AND MANUFAC- TURES ,
TORONTO—REPLY TO ADDRESS AT THE QUEEN'S PARK . : ° ‘
OTTAWA—REPLY TO ADDRESS OF THE CITY COR- PORATION
MONTREAL—REPLY TO ADDRESS OF THE CITY CORPORATION ;
QUEBEC—REPLY, OCT. 20TH 1883, TO ADDRESS OF THE CITY CORPORATION so! . :
VERSES
CANADIAN SUBJECTS.
CANADA, 1882.
‘* ARE hearts here strong enough to found A glorious people’s sway ?”
Ask of our rivers as they bound
From hill to plain, or ocean-sound, If they are stron~ to-day ?
If weakness in their floods be found, Then may ye answer “ Nay!”
“Is union yours? may foeman’s might
y Your love ne’er break or chain ? ”
Go see if o’er our land the flight
Of Spring be stayed by blast or blight ; If Fall bring never grain ;
If Summer suns deny their light, Then may our hope be vain!
* Yet far too cramped the narrow space Your country’s rule can own?” Ah! travel all its bounds and trace Each Alp unto its fertile base, Our realm of forests lone, Our world of prairie, like the face Of ocean, hardly k. wn!
CANADA, 1882.
«“ Yet for the arts to find a shrine, Too rough, I ween, and rude?” Yea, if you find no flower divine With prairie grass or hardy pine, No lilies with the wood, Or on the water-meadows’ line No purple Iris’ flood !
“You deem a nation here shall stand, United, great, and free ?”
Yes, see how Liberty’s own hand
With ours the continent hath spanned, Strong-arched, from sea to sea:
Our Canada’s her chosen land,
Her roof and crown to be!
aise laisse
a aren
QUEBEC.
© FORTRESS city, bathed by streams Majestic as thy memories great, Where mountains, floods, and forests mate ‘The grandeur of the glorious dreams, Born of the hero hearts who died In founding here an Empire’s pride ; Prosperity attend thy fate, And happiness in thee abide, Fair Canada’s strong tower and gate !
May Envy, that against thy might Dashed hostile hosts to surge and break, Bring Commerce, emulous to make Thy people share her fruitful fight, In filling argosies with store Of grain and timber, and each ore, And all a continent can shake Into thy lap, till more and more Thy praise in distant worlds awake.
Who hath not known delight whose feet Have paced thy streets or terrace way ; From rampart sod or bastion grey
Hath marked thy sea-like river greet
6 QUEBEC.
The bright and peopled banks which shine:
In front of tie far mountain’s line ;
Thy glitteri »g roofs below, the play
Of currents where the ships entwine
. t Their spars, or laden pass away ?
As we who joyously once rode \ Past guarded gates to trumpet sound, Along the devious ways that wound O’er drawbridges, through moats, and showed Ir The vast St. Lawrence flowing, belt The Orleans Isle, and sea-ward melt ; | Then by old walls with cannon crowned, Ar Down stair-like streets, to where we felt 1 The salt winds blown o’er meadow ground. Th
Where flows the Charles past wharf and dock. And Learning from Laval looks down,
And quiet convents grace the town. Chere swift to meet the battle shock Montcalm rushed on ; and eddying back, Red slaughter marked the bridge’s track : See now the shores with lumber brown, And girt with happy lands which lack
No loveliness of Summer’s crown.
Quaint hamlet-alleys, border-filled With purple lilacs, poplars tall, 4 E Where flits the yellow bird, and fall 1 es
The deep eave shadows. ‘lhere when tilled ; Whe
wed
in tilled
QUEBEC.
The peasant’s r-'d or garden bed,
He rests content if o’er his head From silver spires the church-bells call
To gorgeous shrines, and prayers that gild The simple hopes and lives of all.
Winter is mocked by garbs of green, Worn by the copses flaked with snow,— White spikes and balls of bloom, that blow In hedgerows deep ; and cattle seen In meadows spangled thick with gold, And globes where lovers’ fates are told Around the red-doored houses low ; While rising o’er them, fold on fold, The distant hills in azure glow.
Oft in the woods we long delayed, When hours were minutes all too brief, For Nature knew no sound of grief ; But overhead the breezes played, And in the dank grass at our knee, Shone pearls of our green forest sea, The star-white flowers of triple leaf Which love around the brooks to be, Within the birch and maple shade.
At times we passed some fairy mere Embosomed in the leafy screen, And streaked with tints of heaven’s sheen, Where’er the water’s surface clear
8 QUEBEC.
Bore not the hues of verdant light
From myriad boughs on mountain height, Or near the shadowed banks were seen )
The sparkles that in circlets bright Told where the fishes’ feast had been.
And when afar the forests flushed C In falling swathes of fire, there soared Dark clouds where muttering thunder roared,
And mounting vapours lurid rushed, SI While a metallic lustre flew Upon the vivid verdure’s hue,
Before the blasts and rain forth poured, Sh. And slow o’er mighty landscapes drew : The grandest pageant of the Lord: ie
The threatening march of flashing cloud, ) The With tumults of embattled air, | Blest conflicts for the good they bear !
A century has God allowed The None other, since the days He gave |
Unequal fortune to the brave.
Comrades in death! you live to share : Bat]
An equal honour, for your grave Bade Enmity take Love as heir!
We watched, when gone day’s quivering haze,
The loops of plunging foam that beat
The rocks at Montmorenci’s feet
Stab the deep gloom with moonlit rays ;
yared,
QUEBEC.
Or from the fortress saw the streams Sweep swiftly o’er the pillared beams ; White shone the roofs, and anchored fleet,
And grassy slopes where nod in dreams Pale hosts of sleeping Marguerite.
Or when the dazzling Frost King mailed Would clasp the wilful waterfall, Fast leaping to her snowy hall She fled ; and where her rainbows hailed Her freedom, painting all her home, We climbed her spray-built palace dome, Shot down the radiant glassy wall Until we reached the snowdrift foam, As shoots to waves some meteor ball.
Then homeward, hearing song or tale, With chime of harness bells we sped Above the frozen river bed. The city, through a misty veil, Gleamed from her cape, where sunset fire Touched louvre and cathedral spire, Bathed ice and snow a rosy red, So beautiful that men’s desire For May-time’s rival wonders fled :
What glories hath this gracious land, Fit home for many a hardy race ; Where liberty has broadest base,
And labour honours every hand!
10
QUEBEC.
Throughout her triply thousand miles
The sun upon each season smiles, And every man has scope and space,
And kindliness, from strand to strand, Alone is born to right of place !
Such were our memories. May they yet Be shared by others, sent to be Signs of the union of the free And kindred peoples God hath set O’er famous isles, and fertile zones Of continents! Or if new thrones And mighty States arise, may He Whose potent hand yon river owns Smooth their great future’s shrouded Sea!
A mc To ST Now | Affect For ¢ Speak And s] The hg
Missed Among Missed In ring Missed In Man
Where’ Evoked We mo
Old En
And thg
Our Qu
PROLOGUE. GOVERNMENT House, March 1879.
A MOMENT’s pause before we play our parts,
To speak the thought that reigns within your hearts.— Now from the Future’s hours, and unknown days, Affection turns, and with the Past delays ;
For countless voices in our mighty land
Speak the fond praises of a vanished hand ;
And shall, to mightier ages yet, proclaim
The happy memories linked with Dufferin’s name.
Missed here is he, to whom each class and creed, Among our people lately bade “ God speed ;” Missed, when each Winter sees the skater wheel In ringing circle on the flashing steel ;
Missed in the Spring, the Summer and the Fall, In many a hut, as in the Council Hall ; Where’er his wanderings on Duty’s hest
Evoked his glowing speech, his genial jest.
We mourn his absence, though we joy that now Old England’s honours cluster round his brow, And that he left us but to serve again
Our Queen and Empire on the Neva’s plain!
12 A PROLOGUE.
Amidst the honoured roll of those whose fate | Bu It was to crown our fair Canadian State, 3 Wh And bind in one bright diadem alone, Mo Fach glorious Province, each resplendent stone, Her His name shall last, and his example give ; And To all her sons a lesson how to live: Shor How every task, if met with heart as bold, | Proves the hard rock is seamed with precious gold, Gree. And Labour, when with Mirth and Love allied, Thei Finds friends far stronger than in Force and Pride, ‘And | And Sympathy and Kindness can be made Our c
The potent weapons by which men are swayed.
He proved a nation’s trust can well be won
By loyal work and constant duty done ;
The wit that winged the wisdom of his word
Set forth our glories, till all Europe heard
How wide the room our Western World can spare For all who nobly toil and bravely dare.
And while the statesman we revere, we know In him the friend is gone, to whom we owe So much of gaiety, so much which made
Life’s duller round to seem in joy repaid.
These little festivals by him made bright,
With grateful thoughts of him renewed to-night, Remind no less of her who deigned to grace This mimic world, and fill therein her place With the sweet dignity and gracious mien
The race of Hamilton has often seen ;
A PROLOGUE. 13
But never shown upon the wider stage
Where the great “cast” is writ on History’s page, More purely, nobly, than by her, whose voice Here moved to tears, or made the heart rejoice, And who in act and word, at home, or far,
Shone with calm beauty like the Northern Star!
Green as the Shamrock of their native Isle Their memory lives, and babes unborn shall smile
‘And share in happiness the pride that blends
Our country’s name with her beloved friends !
A NATIONAL HYMN. GOVERNMENT HOUSE, March 1880.
From our Dominion never Take Thy protecting hand, United, Lord, for ever Keep Thou our fathers’ land ! From where Atlantic terrors Our hardy seamen train, To where the salt sea mirrors The vast Pacific chain. Aye one with her whose thunder Keeps world-watch with the hours, Guard Freedom’s home and wonder, “This Canada of ours.”
Fair days of fortune send her, Be Thou her Shield and Sun!
Our land, our flag’s Defender, Unite our hearts as one!
One flag, one land, upon her May every blessing rest!
For loyal faith and honour Her children’s deeds attest.
Aye one with her, &c.
;
A NATIONAL HYMN. 15
No stranger’s foot, insulting, Shall tread our country’s soil ;
While stand her sons exulting For her to live and toil.
She hath the victor’s guerdon, Her’s are the conquering hours,
No foeman’s yoke shall burden “This Canada of ours.”
Aye one with her, &c.
Our sires, when times were sorest, Asked none but aid Divine, And cleared the tangled forest, And wrought the buried mine. They tracked the floods and fountains, And won, with master-hand, Far more than gold in mountains, The glorious Prairie-land. Aye one with her, &c.
O Giver of earth’s treasure, Make Thou our nation strow, ; Pour forth Thine hot displeasure On all who work our wrong! To our remotest border Let plenty still increase, Let Liberty and Order, Bid ancient feuds to cease. Aye one with her, &c.
A NATIONAL HYMN.
May Canada’s fair daughters
Keep house for hearts as bold As theirs who o’er the waters
Came hither first of old. The pioncers of nations !
They showed the world the way 5 ’Tis ours to keep their stations,
And lead the van to-day.
Aye one with her, &c.
Inheritors of glory, O countrymen ! we swear To guard the flag whose story Shall onward victory bear. Where’er through earth’s far regions Its triple crosses fly, For God, for home, our leyions Shall win, or fighting die ! Aye one with her, &c.
| | { | i :
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2. WI
RIVER RHYMES.
1. WE have poled our staunch canoe Many a boiling torrent through ; Paddling where the eddies drew,
Athwart the roaring flood we flew. Chorus—
Dip your paddles! make them leap, Where the clear cold waters sweep.
Dip your paddles! steady keep,
Where breaks the rapid down the steep.
_ sb ea lai aco aNMNnSKNaNeam
2. Where the wind, like censer, flings Smoke-spray wider as it swings, Hark! the aisle of rainbow rings To falls that hymn the King of kings.
3. Lifting there our vessel tight, Climbed we bank and rocky height, Bore her through thick woods, where light Fell dappling those green haunts of Night.
- derlitligsicunnbaanndacetiorse si nuiipiaibdednscoaneesTanaNel meee Wiitbic Kiev WORM "
4. O’er the rush of billows hurled,
Where they tossed and leaped and curled, Past each wave-worn boulder whirled, How fast we sailed, no sail unfurled !
B
RIVER RHYMES.
5. Laughs from parted lips and teeth Hailed the quiet reach beneath, Damascened in ferny sheath,
And girt with pine and maple wreath.
6. Oh, the lovely river there Made all Nature yet more fair ; Wooded hills and azure air
7. Plunged the salmon, waging feud ’Gainst the jewelled insect-brood ; From aerial solitude An eagle’s shadow crossed the wood.
Flapped the heron, and the grey Halcyon talked from cedar’s spray, Drummed the partridge far away ;— Ah! could we choose to live as they !
o
Kissed, quivering, in the stream they share.
LEG!
Tr
r share.
LEGEND OF THE CANADIAN ROBIN.
Is it Man alone who merits Immortality or death ?
Each created thing inherits Equal air and common breath.
Souls pass onward : some are ranging Happy hunting-grounds, and some
Are as joyous, though in changing Form be altered, language dumb. —
Beauteous all, if fur or feather, Strength or gift of song be theirs ;
He who planted all together Equally their fate prepares.
Like to Time, that dies not, living Through the change the seasons bring, So men, dying, are but giving Life to some fleet foot or wing.
Bird and beast the Savage cherished, But the Robins loved he best ;
O’er the grave where he has perished
They shall thrive and build their nest.
THE CANADIAN ROBIN.
Hunted by the white invader, Vanish ancient races all ; Yet no ruthless foe or trader
Silences the songster’s call.
For the white man too rejoices, Welcoming Spring’s herald bird,
When the ice breaks, and the voices From the rushing streams are heard.
Where the indian’s head-dress fluttered, Pale the settler would recoil,
And his deepest curse was uttered On the Red Son of the soil.
SA
<6
Later knew he not, when often Gladness with the Robin came,
How a spirit-change could soften Hate to dear affection’s flame :
Knew not, as he heard, delighted, Mellow notes in woodlands die, How his heart had leaped, affrighted
At that voice in battle-cry.
For a youthful Savage, keeping Long his cruel fast, had prayed,
All his soul in yearning steeping,
Not for glory, chase, or maid;
NAAR Sect rit ciedaaraeancir mei oD abu ree
But to sing in joy, and wander, Following the summer hours,
THE CANADIAN ROBIN.
Drinking where the streams meander, Feasting with the leaves and flowers.
Once his people saw him painting Red his sides and red his breast, Said: ‘ His soul for fight is fainting, War-paint suits the hero best ;”
Went, when passed the night, loud calling, Found him not, but where he lay
Saw a Robin, whose enthralling Carol seemed to them to say ;
“‘T have left you! I am going Far from fast and winter pain ;
When the laughing water’s flowing
Hither I will come again!”
Thus his ebon locks still wearing, With the war-paint on his breast,
Still he comes, our summer sharing, And the lands he once possessed.
Finding in the white man’s regions Foemen none, but friends whose heart
Loves the Robins’ happy legions, Mourns when, silent, they depart.
WERE THESE THE FIRST DISCOVERERS OF AMERICA ?
MILICETE LEGEND OF THE OUANGONDE, OR RIVER Xx St. JOHN.
THoucu the ebbing ocean listens To Ugondé’s throbbing roar,
Calm the conquering flood-tide glistens Where the river raved before.*
So the sea-brought strangers, stronger Than their Indian foes of old,
Conquered, till were heard no longer War-songs through the forests rolled.
Vet the land’s wild stream, begotten Where its Red Sons fought and died,
* The Bay of Fundy tide rises to such a height that it flows up the St. John River channel to some distance, silencing the roar
of the falls, which pour over a great ledge of rock left by the
ebbing sea. Taken very literally from a tale in the “ Amaranth Magazine,” 1841.
Fo
An
UGONDE. 23
With traditions unforgotten Strives to stem Oblivion’s tide ;
Tells the mighty, who, like ocean, Whelm the native stream, how they
First in far dim days’ commotion, Wrestling, fought for empire’s sway.
ERERS Hear the sad cascade, ere ever Sinks in rising tides its moan, True may be the tale, though never R RIVER | By the victor ocean known.
Now the chant rings softly, finding Freedom as the sea retires ; Loudly now, through spray-tears blinding
= Throb and thunder silver lyres ;
i Silenced when the strong sea-water To its great heart, limitless,
. Rising, takes the valley’s daughter,
ed Soothes the song of her distress.
ied, j Uconpf#’s TALE.
For a while the salt brine leaves me aor | O’er my terraced rocks to fall, cing the roar | ‘ ee k left bythe 4 And my broad swift-gliding waters e “Amaranth | Olden memories recall.
24 UGONDE.
Ere the tallest pines were seedlings Sa With my !ife-stream these were blent ;
As a father’s words, like arrows ) R: Straight to children’s hearts are sent,
So my currents speeding downwards, : Tu Ever passing, sing the same ( Story of the days remembered, , Da: When the stranger people came. c
Men of mighty limbs and voices, : Fro Bearing shining shields and knives, Y Painted gleamed their hair like evening, i Flas When the sun in ocean dives. : B
Blue their eyes and tall their stature, Huge as Indian shadows seen
When the sun through mists of morning
Casts them o’er a clear lake’s sheen.
From before the great Pale-faces Fled the tribes to woods and caves, Watching thence their fearful councils, Where they talked beside the waves.
For they loved the shores, and fashioned Houses from its stones, and there
Fished and rested, danced at night-time
By their fire and torches’ glare.
UGONDVE. 25
Sang loud songs before the pine-logs As they crackled in the flame,
Raised and drank from bone-cups, shouting Fiercely some strange spirit’s name.
Turning to the morning’s pathway, Cried they thus to gods, and none
Dared to fight the bearded giants, Children of the fire and sun.
From their bodies fell our flint-darts, Yet their arrows flew, like rays , Flashing from the rocks where polished By the ice in winter days.
Then the Indians prayed the spirits Haunting river, bank, and hill, 9 : To let hatred, like marsh vapour, 1 Rise among their foes and kill.
And they seemed to heed, for anger Often maddened all the band,
Fighting for some stones that glittered Yellow on Ugondé’s sand.
aa | Seeing axe and spear-head crimson,
Hope illumined doubt and dread,
And our land’s despairing children Called upon the mighty dead.
26 UGONDE.
All the Northern night-air shaking, Rose the ancients’ bright array,
Burning lines of battle breaking Darkness into lurid day.
But the stranger hearts were hardened, Fearless slept they ; then at last
Our Great Spirit heard, and answered From his home in heaven vast.
For his waving locks were tempests, And the thunder-cloud his frown ; Where he trod the earthquake followed, And the forests bowed them down.
As his whirlwind struck the mountains, Rent and ..ited, swayed the ground ;
Wingéd knives of crooked lightning
Gleamed from skies and gulfs profound.
Floods, from wonted channels driven, Roared at falling hillside’s shock ;
What was land became the torrent,
What was lake became the rock.
Now the river and the ocean, Whispering, say: ‘Our floods alone
See white skeletons slow-moving
Near the olden walls of stone.”
UGONDE. 27
Moving slow in stream and sea-tide,
There the stranger warriors sleep, And their shades still cry in anguish Where the foaming waters leap.
THE GUIDE OF THE MOHAWKS. ’
For strife against the ocean tribe j y, The Mohawks’ war array
Comes floating down, where broad St. John Reflects the dawning day.
A camp is seen, and victims fall, And none are left to flee ;
A maid alone is spared, compelled A traitress guide to be.
The swift canoes together keep,
And over their gliding prows The silent girl points down the stream, Nor halt nor rest allows.
“‘Speak ! are we near your fires? How dark Night o’er these waters lies!” Still pointing down the rushing stream,
The maiden naught replies.
The banks fly past, the water seethes ; The Mohawks shout, *‘ To shore! Where is the girl?” Her cry ascends From out the river’s roar.
THE GUIDE OF THE MOHAWEKS. 29
The foaming rapids rise and flash A moment o’er her head,
And smiling as she sinks, she knows tier foemen’s course is sped ;
4 A moment hears she shriek on shriek WES. : From hearts that death appals,
’ As, seized by whirling gulfs, the crews Are drawn into the falls!
THE STRONG HUNTER.
THERE’Ss a warrior hunting o’er prairie and hill, Who in sunshine or starlight is eager to kill,
Who ne'er sleeps by his fire on the wild river’s shore, Where the green cedars shake to the white rapids’
roar.
Ever tireless and noiseless, he knows not repose, Be the land filled with summer, OF lifeless with | SnOWS ; : But his strength gives him few he can count as his i friends, Man and beast fly before him wherever he wends.
For he chases alike every form that has breath, And his darts must strike all,—for that hunter is | Death ! 1 Lo! askeleton armed, and his scalp-lock yet streams From this vision of fear of the Iroquois’ dreams! —
ce
6<
MON-DAW-MIN ;
Or, THE ORIGIN OF THE INDIAN-CORN.
nd hill, | ‘kill, | Cuerry bloom and green buds bursting river’s shore, i Fleck the azure skies ;
xhite rapids’ 4 In the spring wood, hungering, thirsting,
Faint an Indian lies.
To behold his guardian spirit Fasts the dusky youth ;
Prays that thus he may inherit Warrior strength and truth.
ot repose, lifeless with
count as his
i Weak he grows, the war-path gory r he wends. Seems a far delight ; Now he scans the flowers, whose glory
Ss breath, Is not won by fight.
hat hunter is 7 : “ Hunger kills me; see my arrow
ck yet streams © Bloodless lies ; I ask,
is’ dreams ! ; If life’s doom be grave-pit narrow,
Deathless make its task.
‘For man’s welfare guide my being, So I shall not die
MON-DAW-MIN.
Like the flow’rets, fading, fleeing, When the snow is nigh.
“ Medicine from the plants we borrow, Salves from many a leaf;
May they not kill hunger’s sorrow, Give with food relief?”
Suddenly a spirit shining F From the sky came down, :
Green his mantle, floating, twining, ; Gold his feather crown. : W
“T have heard thy thought unspoken ; O
Famous thou shalt be; : Though no scalp shall be the token, Men shall speak of thee.
“‘Bravely borne, men’s heaviest burden § Ever lighter lies ; 3 S
Wrestling with me, win the guerdon;
Gain thy wish, arise !”
Now he rises, and, prevailing,
Hears the angel say : 1 Fe ‘Strong in weakness, never failing, Strive yet one more day.
** Now again I come, and find thee Yet with courage high,
So that, though my arms can bind thee,
Victor thou, not I.
l,
rden
thee,
MON-DAW-MIN. ,
‘*‘ Hark! to-morrow, conquering, slay me,
Blest shall be thy toil: After wrestling, strip me, lay me Sleeping in the soil.
‘Visit oft the place ; above me Root out weeds and grass ;
Fast no more ; obeying, love me ; Watch what comes to pass.”
Waiting through the long day dreary, Still he hungers on ;
Once more wrestling, weak and weary, Still the fight is won.
Stripped of robes and golden feather, Buried lies the guest:
Summer’s wonder-working weather Warms his place of rest.
Ever his commands fulfilling, Mourns his victor friend,
Fearing, with a heart unwilling, To have known the end.
No! upon the dark mould fallow Shine bright blades of green ; Rising, spreading, plumes of yellow O’er their sheaves are seen.
MON-DAW-MIN.
Higher than a mortal’s stature
Soars the corn in pride ; Seeing it, he knows that Nature
There stands deified. “the guerdon
“Tis my friend,” he cries, Fast and prayer have won;
Want is past, an Soon shall torture none.”
d hunger’s burden
ydon
THE ISLES OF HURON.
BRIGHT are the countless isles which crest With waving woods wide Huron’s breast,— Her countless isles, that love too well
The crystal waters whence they rise, Far from her azure depths to swell, Or wanton with the wooing skies ;
Nor, jealous, soar to keep the Day From laughing in each rippling bay, But floating on the: flood they love, Soft whispering, kiss her breast, and seek No passions of the air above, No fires that burn the thunder-peak.
Algoma o’er Ontario throws Fair forest heights and mountain snows ; Strong Erie shakes the orchard plain At great Niagara’s defiles, And river-gods o’er Lawrence reign, But Love is king in Huron’s isles.
THE MYSTIC ISLE OF THE “LAND OF THE NORTH WIND.”
(KEEWATIN. )
A LAND untamed, whose myriad isles Are set in branching lakes that vein Illimitable silent woods,
Voiceful in Fall, when their defiles, Rich with the birch’s golden rain, See winging past the wildfowl broods.
Blue channels seem its dented rocks, So steeply smoothed, but crusted o’er With rounded mosses, green and grey, That oft a Southern coral mocks Upon this Northern fir-clad shore,
"Neath tufted copse on cape and bay.
Here sunshine from serener skies Than Europe’s ocean-islands know Ripens the berry for the bear,
And pierces where the beaver plies His water-forestry, or slow
The moose seeks out a breezy lair.
LAND
THE “LAND OF THE NORTH WIND.”
The blaze scarce spangles bush or ferns, But lights the white pine’s velvet fringe And its dark Norway sister’s boughs ; At eve between their shadows burns The lake, where shafts of crimson tinge ‘The savage war-flotilla’s prows.
Far circling round, these seem to shun An isle more fair than all beside,
As if some lurking foe were there, Although upon its heights the sun Shines glorious, and its forest pride
Is fanned by summer’s joyous air.
For ’mid these isles is one of fear, And none may ever breathe its name. ‘There the Great Spirit loves to be ; Its haunted groves and waters clear Are homes of thunder and of flame ; All pass it silently and flee,
Save they who potent magic learn,
Who lonely in that dreaded fane
Resist nine days the awful powers :
And, fasting, each through pain may earn ‘The knowledge daring mortals gain,
if life survive those secret hours!
37
There
The b
And, |
By ml,
+ But fo
WESTWARD HO/ More
Away to the West ! Westward ho! Westward ho! ; Away t Where over the prairies the summer winds blow! 7 God's h Why known to so few were its rivers and plains, > To land Where rustle so tall in their ripeness the grains ? j We mot The bison and Red-men alone cared to roam j Full strc O’er realms that to millions must soon givea home; | For, truc The vast fertile levels Old Time loved to reap 1 The will The haymaker’s song hath awakened from sleep. 1 As pole:
Away to the West! Westward ho! Westward ho! Away to Why waited we fearing to plant and to sow? Where r¢
Not ours was the waiting! By God was ordained > Right go The hour when the ocean’s grey steeds were up-reined,. | Its rollin And green marshes rose, and the bittern’s abode j Nor used Became the Lone Land where the wild hunter strode, 7 The wate And soils with grass harvests grew rich, and the clime: 4} The spa
For us was prepared in the fulness of Time! 7) Our Roc
Away to the West! Westward ho! Westward ho! > Away to For us ’twas prepared long ago, long ago ! 5 From mg
ard ho? blow!
lains, rains ? am re a home 5. reap
sleep.
ward ho!
Dw P
ordained pre up-reined,. ’s abode
unter strode,. ©
and the clime. 3 Our Rocky Sierras’ sweet rivers of light.
hme !
WESTWARD HO! 39
There came from the Old World at last o’er the sea, The bravest and best to this land of the free ;
And, leal to their flag, won the fruits of the earth By might that has given new nations a birth,
But found in our North-land a bride to be known More worthy than all of the love of the throne.
Away to the West! Westward ho! Westward ho! God’s hand is our guide; ’tis His will that we go!
To lands yet more happy than Europe’s, for here
We mould the young nation for Freedom to rear. Full strongly we build, and have nought to pull down, For, true to ourselves, we are true to the Crown ; The will of the people its honour shows forth,
As pole-star, whose radiance points steadfastly north.
Away to the West! Westward ho! Westward ho! Where rooted in Freedom shall Liberty grow!
Right good is the loam that for five score of days Its rolling lands show, or its plains’ scented ways : Nor used is the pick, if the earth has concealed The waters it keeps for the house and the field ; The spade finds enough, until burst on the sight
j Away to the West! Westward ho! Westward ho!
From mountains and lakes there the great rivers flow!
40 WESTWARD HO!
If told of Brazil or great Mexico’s gold,
Of Cotton States’ warmth and of Canada’s cold,
Go say how we prize, like the ore of the mine,
The snows sapphire-shadowed in winter’s sunshine ; —Our gayest of seasons! which guards the good soil For races who won it through faith and through toil.
Away io the West ! Westward ho! Westward ho! Bright sparkles its winter, and light is its snow!
There gaily, in measureless meadows, all day
The sun and the breeze with the grass are at play, In billows that never can break as they pass,
But toss the gold foam of the flower-laden grass, The bright yellow disks of the asters upcast
On waves that in blossoms flow silently past.
Away to the West ! Westward ho! Westward ho! Where over the prairies the summer winds blow.
The West for you, boys! where our God has made
room
For field and for city, for plough and for loom.
The West for you, girls! for our Canada deems Love’s home better luck than a gold-seeker’s dreams. Away! and your children shall bless you, for they Shall rule o’er a land fairer far than Cathay.
Away to the West! Westward ho! Westward ho! Thou God of their fathers, Thy blessing bestow !
Jand British C
THE
AT a fea Girt wit! Manitob And san; “Tame My prair For the } And his |
On her s We saw 4 “The bis And the Where hi By the ca While the Give light
“To the Who dwe
* Manitoba
old,
ne, nshine ; good soil ough toil.
rd ho! ow !
ard ho! 5 blow.
H has made
oom. deems
pr’s dreams. for they
y.
rard ho ! estow !
THE SONG OF THE SIX SISTERS.*
AT a feast in the east of our central plains,
Girt with the sheaths of the wheaten grains, Manitoba lay where the sunflowers blow,
And sang to the chime of the Red River’s flow: “T am child of the spirit whom all men own,
My prairie no longer is green and lone,
For the hosts of the settler have ringed me round, And his bride am I with the harvest crowned.” :
On her steed at speed o’er her burning grass We saw Assiniboia pass :
“The bison and antelope still are mine, And the Indian wars on my boundary-line ; Where his knife is dyed I love to ride
By the cactus blooms or the marshes wide, While the quivering columns of thunder fire Give light to the darkened land’s desire.”
“To the North look ye forth,” cried the voice of one, Who dwells where the great twin rivers run ;-—
* Manitoba, Assiniboia, Saskatchewan, Athabasca, Alberta,
and British Columbia.
42 A SONG OF THE SIX SISTERS.
“Or farther yet,” Athabaska cried,
“Where mightier waters the hills divide:
‘Peace’ is their name, and the musk ox there
Still feeds alone on the meadows fair.”
‘Nay, stay,” said the first; ‘the white man’s word Hath called me the kindest to horse and herd.”
From on high where the sky and the snow-born rill Each morn and eve to the rose-tints thrill,
Sang the fairy Sprite of the Fountain Land:
“A daughter of her, whose sceptred hand
With the flag of the woven crosses three
Hath rule o’er the ocean, hath christened me,
And my waves their homage repeat again,
And that standard greet in the loyal main.”
And their lays in her praise then sang the four : “‘ Alberta has all we can boast and more :
The scented breath of the plains is hers,
The odours sweet of the sage and firs ;
There the coal breaks forth on her rolling sod, And the winters flee at the winds of God. Columbia, come! for we want but thee ;
Now tell of thyself and thy silent sea!”
“Clad with the silver snow, a pine Guarded the grot of a golden mine,
| In smoke
7 Seek not > Lie asleey
> From the 9 I watch t And dark was the shade which the mist-wreaths cast, Though brightly they shone on the mountain yast.
St W. But no
More t
Flo Th Where I O’er the Swi Beh But touc’ Where tl
Stre In s; How love
Soo Shelt
Oft |] With
Mine Sign
there
man’s word
1 herd.”
ow-born rill
‘ill,
and :
nd
e 1 ied me, : ain,
ain.”
the four : re:
rs,
}
ling sod, od.
ine, ist-wreaths cast, ountain vast. |
A SONG OF THE SIX SISTERS.
Stars and sun o’er that cavern swept, Where on the glittering sand I slept ; But none could behold me, or know where was stored More treasure than monarch e’er won with the sword. Floods in fathomless torrents fall Through the awful rifts of the Alpine wall, Where I passed in the night over forest and glen, O’er the ships on the sea and the cities of men— Swifter than morn! His shafts of love Behind me caught the peaks above, But touched not my wings: I had gone e’er he came Where the vine-maple fringed the deep forest with flame. Strewn o’er the sombre walls of green In saffron or in crimson sheen, How lovely those gardens of autumn, where rolled In smoke and in fire the red lava of old! Soon I reached my sea-girt home Sheltered from the breakers’ foam. Seek not for mine isle, for a thousand and more
| Lie asleep in the calm near the mountainous shore.
Oft I roam in moon ray clear With the puma and the deer ; From the boughs of Madréna that droop o’er a bay I watch the fish dart from the beams of the day. Mine are tranquil gulfs, nor give Sign to lovers where I live ;
aS a Yon A an ae . On Sg eC Ss
44 A SONG OF THE SIX SISTERS.
But the sea-rock betrays where my netting is hung, When the meshes of light o’er its mosses are flung!” She ceased, and then in chorus strong The blended voices floated long :—
‘No sirens we, of shore or wave, To sing of love and tempt the brave : We fled their path, and freedom found Where blue horizons stretched around, And lilies in the grasses made
A double sunshine on each blade.
No wooers we, but, wooed by them, We yield our maiden diadem,
And welcome now, no longer mute, Tried hearts so true and resolute !”
THE PRAIRIE ROSES.
THE Noon-Sun prayed a prairie rose To blanch for him her blossom’s hue, But to the Plain all love she owes ; Beneath that mother’s grass she grew.
And sheltered by her verdant blades, Their tints of green she made her own;
But still the Sun sought out her shades And said, “ Be my white bride alone!”
Then, sorrowing for his grievous pain, Her sister loved the amorous god, And blushed, ashamed, as o’er the plain His parting beams illumed the sod.
So one sweet rose yet wears the green, And one in sunset’s crimson glows ;
Still one untouched by love 1s seen,
And one in conscious beauty blows.
M2 Seal ria ota gion . — .
CREE FAIRIES.
‘Dip earth ever see
On thy prairie’s line Tribes older than thine, Old Chief of the Cree ?”
‘Before us we know
Of none who lived here :
The Blackfeet were near ; Our shafts bade them go
‘“ But others have share Of lake and of land, A swift-footed band No arrow can scare.
‘“ Their coming has been When flowers are gay ; On islet and bay
Their foc. prints are seen.
‘There dance little feet, Light grasses they break ; Beneath the blue lake Must be their retreat.
CREE FAIRIES.
“We listen, and none Hears ever a sound ;
But where, lily-crowned, Floats the isle in the sun,
“Three children we see
Like sunbeams at play, And, voiceless as they, Dogs bounding in glee.
“Of old they were there ! Ever young, who are these Whom Death cannot seize?
What Spirits of air ?”
y
For
VW
Whc
W
7 Was
THE “QU’APPELLE” VALLEY. j Vi
1 Who
Morwnine, lighting all the prairies, De
Once of old came, bright as now, tank
To the twin cliffs, sloping wooded Br;
From the vast plain’s even brow: Thin,
When the sunken valley’s levels Hu With the winding willowed stream,
Cried, ‘ Depart, night’s mists and shadows ; Long
Open-flowered, we love to dream! Vet
s. ears For it:
Then in his canoe a stranger Gra
Passing onward heard a cry ; Thought it called his name and answered, But the voice would not reply ; Waited listening, while the glory Rose to search each steep ravine, Till the shadowed terraced ridges Like the levei vale were green.
Strange as when on Space the voices Of the stars’ hosannahs fell,
To this wilderness of beauty | Seemed his call “ Qu’Appelle? Qu’Appelle ?” #
THE ‘“QU’APPELLE” VALLEY.
For a day he tarried, hearkening, Wondering, as he went his way,
Whose the voice that gladly called him With the merry tones of day ?
Was it God, who gave dumb Nature RY. ‘ Voice and words to shout to one 3 Who, a pioneer, came, sunlike,
Down the pathways of the sun ?
Harbinger of thronging thousands, Bringing plain, and vale, and wood,
Things the best and last created, Human hearts and brotherhood !
Jows ; . Long the doubt and eager question Yet that valley’s name shall tell, For its farmers’ laughing children Gravely call it ‘‘ The Qu’Appelle !”
THE BLACKFEET.
I.
WHERE the snow-world of the mountains Fronts the sea-like world of sward,
And encamped along the prairies Tower the white peaks heavenward ;
Where they stand by dawn rose-coloured Or dim-silvered by the stars,
And behind their shadowed portals Evening draws her lurid bars,
Lies a country whose sweet grasses Richly clothe the rolling plain ;
All its swelling upland pastures Speak of Plenty’s happy reign ;
There the bison herds in autumn Roamed wide sunlit solitudes,
Seamed with many an azure river Bright in burnished poplar woods.
II.
Night-dews pearled the painted hide-tents,
**Moyas ” named, that on the mead
Shel Br Neve
Ne Wher Imi Maste: Whi From I Free Only W Sic wl
Would. Deare
Southwa When Shaking Meltin Dwelt th; They With the First 0 Gallantly While ¢ While the Saw the
ide-tents, ead
THE BLACKFEET.
Sheltered dark-eyed women wearing Braided hair and woven bead. Never man had seen their lodges, Never warrior crossed the slopes Where they rode, and where they hunted Imu bulls and antelopes. Masterless, how swift their riding ! While the wild steeds onward flew, From round breasts and arms unburdened Freedom’s winds their tresses blew. Only when the purple shadows Sic wly veiled the darkening plain Would they sorrow that the Sun-god Dearer loved his Alp’s domain.
IIL.
Southward, nearer to the gorges Whence the sudden warm winds blow, Shaking all the pine’s huge branches, Melting all the fallen snow, Dwelt the Séksika, the Blackfeet ; They whose ancestor, endued, With the dark salve’s magic fleetness, First on foot the deer pursued. Gallantly the Braves bore torture While their Sun-dance fasts were held, While the drums beat, and the virgins Saw the pains by manhood quelled.
52 THE BLACKFEET,
As each writhing form triumphant Called on the Great Spirit’s might, On his son, whose voice in thunder
Summons airy hosts to fight.
IV.
“ Star-Child,” praised as bearing all things, Praised as Brave who never feared,
Young, but famed above his elders,
Chief to man and maid endeared,
Went with comrades, quiver-harnessed, O’er the hills, and face to face,
Where the bright leaves trembled round them, Found the fearless huntress race.
Was it peace or was it warfare ? Starting back, their bows they drew,
But a mystic power compelled them, And no word, no arrow flew.
Nearer to each other drawing, Strength and beauty beckoned “ Peace,”
Each the other envious eyeing,
Jealous lest their hunt should cease!
V.
“They are strong; could not they aid us?” Thought the maiden band amazed ;
“Conquered, these could well obey us!”
Dreamed the warriors as they gazed.
False) Sm While We ““Who &é H With t Decl “Yea ; Ligh With th Guid
Vaunted * Peer From the Worth Know ye Saw hi Armed, O’er th His the d Thrice Shafts the Kept h
“ Give us Cried tl
und them,
THE BLACKFEET.
Falsely answered cunning “ Star-Child,” Smiling as they slowly met,
While the women’s frequent questions Were to laughter’s music set,
‘““Who is chief among you, tell us ?” “He is far! Is she your queen
With the shells and deer-teeth broidered, Decked with sheen of gold between ?”
“Yea; she slays the bear, the grizzly : Light her empire on us lies ;
With the love she rules her courser Guides and guards us ‘ Laughing Eyes’ !”
VI.
Vaunted then the men their “ Star-Child :” “Peerless soldier, keen-eyed king ! From the girl he weds shall heroes Worthy war-god’s lineage spring. Know ye not how old enchantment Saw his storm-born sire appear, Armed, upon a peak dark-lifted O’er the snows and glaciers drear ? His the darts divine, whose breaking Thrice hath some disaster sent, Shafts that killed and then returning, Kept his armoury unspent.” “ Give us of these arrows. Bring him!” Cried the maidens. ‘‘ Nay,” they said;
54
THE BLACKFEET.
‘“*Come with us and share our hunting Ere the autumn leaves are shed.”
VII.
Answered they : ‘In painted lodges Berries we have dried and meat ;
Come again ! e’er comes the winter, Let us hear your horses’ feet.”
And they sprang into their saddles,
Swept, white-splashing, through a stream ;
Red and saffron hued, the pageant Crossed the blue translucent gleam. Then unwilling, as they vanished, “Star-Child ” slow to camp returned ; Told the council of the Blackfeet All the marvels he had learned ; Dressed him in his chief’s apparel, Rode to where, within the glen, Lay the trail that led him onward To the town, unknown of mer.
VIII.
From each Moya thronged the dwellers : ‘Hath the chief the arrows sent?”
*““T am Chief; behold me; trust me. Lead me to your ruler’s tent.’
“He hath not the shafts enchanted ; Thus unarmed came never chief!”
Bent a ** Bac
Angry, Lest | He, obe Scorn Went ; : All al Red as 1 Flushe
Grave, in *Neath Round t Holdi Pausing |] Differet All the yo All the But the B Half the Pledge so None hi To the hu Waking Where the And the
am ;
THE BLACKFEET
Bent a thousand bows around him : ‘“‘ Back or die, impostor, thief!” Angry, yet afraid to anger, Lest he lose those “ Laughing-Eyes,” He, obeying, vowed to conquer ; Scorning to make vain replies, Went ; and weary seemed the journey ! All along the yellow plain Red as rose-leaves ip the grasses Flushed his dusky cheeks with pain.
IX.
Grave, in silent circles seated *Neath their Moya’s smoke-tanned cone,
Round the fire his chieftains heard him, Holding each a pipe’s red stone.
Pausing long, they gave their counsel, Different from their wont; for here
All the young men spoke for kindness, All the old men were severe.
But the Braves rode forth at morning, Half the magic darts they bore ;
Pledge so precious of their friendship None had thought to give before !
To the huntress nation welcome, Waking song in every tent,
Where the hours were passed in feasting
And the days to love were lent !
ae EADS aces tan freee
56
THE BLACKFEET.
X.
Thus the maidens were the victors, For to them the warriors came : *‘ Laughing-Eyes ” but loved the “ Star-Child ” When his shafts her own became. Ah! but where is man or woman Who may boast of triumph long ? Nought abides, and mighty nations Cannot ever more be strong. So each huntress found a master, Yielding to her heart’s new birth, And no more along the prairie Beat her steed the sounding earth. Yearly yet the Blackfeet women Meet and dance and sing the day When through love they won, and, winning, Freedom passed with love away !
SAN G
GREY-CO Guide: As their Teachi Speak thy Round Rearing t And th
“Thou, S Why th To no tun There t Why I kee Framed Here wher Until de
Then St. G Told the
SAN GABRIEL, ON THE PACIFIC COAST.
GREY-COWLED monk, whose faith so earnest Guides these Indians’ childlike hearts,
As their hands to toil thou turnest, Teaching them the Builder’s arts,
Speak thy thought ! as now they gather Round the white walls on the plain,
3 Rearing them for God the Father,
ing, 7 And the glory of New Spain.
“Thou, St. Gabriel, knowest only Why thy holy bells I raise, To no turret proud and lonely, q There to sound the hours of praise ;— Why I keep them close beside me, Framed within the church’s walls, Here where heathen lands shall hide ine Until death to judgment calls.”
Then St. Gabriel in high heaven Told the saints this mortal’s lot,
58
SAN GABRIEL.
As the Angelus at even | Thus Rose to day that dieth not ; 4 Th And from out the nightly wonder : Lovir
Of the darkened world would float, ‘ An Mingling with the near sea’s thunder, Yonder belfry’s golden note.
‘Two there were, whose loves were blighted By the Spanish pride abhorred,
And their vows and wealth they plighted To the Missicns of the Lord.
For his church these bells she gave him, When within their glowing mould,
She had cast what were her treasures, —All her ornaments of gold.
“So do these, that to his seeming Were but good as touched by her, Ring to seek for love redeeming All who sorrow, all who err. Yes, though human love be ever Heard upon the throbbing air, This shall make his life’s endeavour Stronger through a woman’s prayer.
“God is not a Lord requiring
Sacrifice of memories dear, And their love in life untiring To His life hath brought then near.
SAN GABRIEL.
Thus his wish to have beside him
That which seems her voice, is good : Lovingly the Lord hath tried him,
And his heart hath understood !”
NIAGARA.
A CEASELESS, awful, falling sea, whose sound Shakes earth and air, and whose resistless stroke Shoots high the volleying foam like cannon smoke !
How dread and beautiful the floods, when, crowned
By moonbeams on their rushing ridge, they bound Into the darkness and the veiling spray ;
Or, jewel-hued and rainbow-dyed, when day
Lights the pale torture of the gulf profound !
So poured the avenging streams upon the world When swung the ark upon the deluge wave,
And, o’er each precipice in grandeur hurled,
The endless torrents gave mankind a grave.
God’s voice is mighty, on the water loud,
Here, as of old, in thunder, glory, cloud !
(
A GREAT
AMONG wl Marks t! Apart its
Too steep |
In other sh When see
God cary An altar to Of old there
And fro Take sands
Where océ
So in our n Love’s golde
l stroke smoke ! -rowned
bound
ON CHIEF MOUNTAIN,
A GREAT ROCK ON THE AMERICAN NORTH-WEST FRONTIER.
AMONG white peaks a rock, hewn altar-wise, Marks the long frontier of our mighty lands. Apart its dark tremendous sculpture stands,
Too steep for snow, and square against the skies.
In other shape its buttressed masses rise When seen from north or south ; but eastward set, God carved it where two sovereignties are met,
An altar to His peace, before men’s eyes.
Of old there Indian mystics, fasting, prayed ;
And from its base to distant shores the streams
Take sands of gold, to be at .«st inlaid Where ocean’s floor in shadowed splendour gleams.
So in our nations’ sundered lives be blent
Love’s golden memories from one proud descent !
ON THE JN
CUBA.
q IN token o
SPAKE one upon our vessel's prow, re For this The sinking sun had kissed the glittering seas: A provin “°Twas here Columbus with his Genoese ; By thy dear Steered his frail barks toward the unknown — a Alberta sha With hope unfaltering, though all hope seemed O’er ; | From alp Calm ’mid the mutineers the prophet mind : Shall vau
Saw the New World to which their eyes were blind, Each little }
. a ? ; Heard on its continents the breakers’ roar, And numbe
Told of the golden promise of the main, : Or the thi 5 z
While cursed his crew, and called a madman’s . Great peopl
dream Still shall |
The land his ashes only hold for S»ain! q Speak the lo
It rose on dim horizon with the gleam Worthy the ¢
Of morn, proclaiming to the kneeling throng : All treasures theirs, because one heart was strong. q * This Province ; 7 Christian names is
ON THE NEW PROVINCE “ALBERTA.’*
In token of the love which thou hast shown gene
For this wide land of freedom, I have named NEL
seas : F A province vast, and for its beauty famed, ; 5 By thy dear name to be hereafter known.
shore, 4 Alberta shali it be! Her fountains thrown | } ‘Co a ed o’er; § From alps unto three oceans, to all men Hal a he ad 4 Shall vaunt her loveliness een now; and when, ot ni reblind, @ = Each little hamlet to a city grown, te
q And numberless as blades of prairie grass,
: Or the thick leaves in distant forest bower, adman’s ‘ Great peoples hear the giant currents pass,
4 Still shall the waters, bringing wealth and power,
> Speak the loved name,—the land of silver springs— ae
4 Worthy the daughter of our English kings. aa | 3
- » @ : strong. | * This Province was called after the Princess, one of whose ©, Christian names is Alberta.
WY) (x) — aa © 4 N CO ea <q ‘aa eg O 4% O w (xy > — (x, e 4a} ad
Ort th Less
Hath w Som
Mark, i: Manl Though Than
Better si Than
Sing gre Is too
Lays whe
Sang o Heard an * Dare,
GAELIC LEGENDS.
Ort the savage Tale in telling Less of Love than Wrath and Hate, Hath within its fierceness dwelling Some pure note compassionate.
Mark, if rude their nature, stronger, Manlier are the minds that keep
Thought on rightful vengeance longer
¢ c
Than on teose who can but weep.
Better sing the horrid battle Than its cause of crime and wrong ; Sing great life-deeds! the death-rattle Is too common for a song.
Lays where man in fight rejoices Sang our Sires, from Sire to Son ; Heard and loved the hero voices, “Dare, and more than life is won!”
COLHORN.
Lo, a castle, tall, lake-mirrored, Ringed around by mountain forms,
Roofless, ruined, sti!l defying Summer’s rains and winter’s storms.
Every shattered lifeless window, Every stone in every wall,
Keep and gable, broken stairway, Woman’s faithful love recall.
Colin, called “ the Swarthy,” famous In the annals of Lochow,
When a child, was gently fostered Near where Orchy’s waters flow.
The Black Knight, his sire, could value
Vassal’s love and hardy fare ; To a gudewife gave him, saying,
“Train him with the sons you bear.”
Tae ert at a
Strong Prai: Came Rule
But afa Rose Blessed Sailec
Leaving Half |
Written Half \
“Tf not Blame Answerer Thoug
Lonely li Riches Save the | Seemec
Voiceless Falsely 7
Flashed o’ Watche
ns.
alue
COLHORN.
Strong he grew, and brave, till armies Praised in him a man of men.
Came a peace—then love ;—a lady Ruled with him the Orchy’s glen.
But afar from over Ocean Rose a cry for Christian aid: Blessed of Pope, ’neath holy banners Sailed he for the great crusade.
Leaving with his weeping lady Half their marriage ring, whereon Written stood his name, and taking Half where hers, engraven, shone.
‘If no tidings reach thee, darling,
Blame my death.” But she through tears Answered : “I'll believe thee living
Though I hear not seven years.”
Lonely lived the lady, lonely : Riches grew, and brought her all
Save the loving words whose echo Seemed to linger in his hall.
Voiceless passed the years ; and Rumour Falsely slew him, whose steel mail Flashed o’er white walls, azure sea girt, Watched, and feared by Moslem sail.
ee Michie meine Ss
COLHORN.
Rhodes’ fair island saw his valour ; ’Mid her gardens he had bled ; Glowing as her sun, his love-words
Homeward to his lady sped.
Ah, they reached her not, to banish Days of care, and nights of woe ; Their warm sunshine never parted
Clouds that darkened o’er Lochow.
Weary is her lot whose favour For her wealth is held a prize ;
Oft she finds no. truthful homage, Sees no love in pleading eyes.
Man gains strength from gold, but woman Worse than dross her wealth may call ;
Avarice is her haunting suitor, Giving naught and seeking all.
Messages from the Crusader. Fell into a Baron’s hands ; Who, with subtle treason working, Coveted dark Colin’s lands:
Spread the base and cruel rumours, Preyed unon the aching heart, Asked her year by year in marriage, Falsely played the lover’s part.
Gaily Na But s Fir
“Whe Wh When Riss
So the Wall
Stone Hers
Shall it Show Shall th Turn
e) 5 > Satin Sea
COLHORN.
And the heartless seasons vanished, Other twain were nearly sped ;
Then at last his suit seemed answered, Silently she bent her head.
Gaily, loudly, laughing o’er her, Named the Baron hour and day. But she said: “ No, for this wedding
First I’ll build a castle gay.
(oe
‘When its halls are built, we'll tarry Where our guests can praise our cheer ;
When the feast-smoke from its chimneys Rises, then the day is near.”
So the building rose, and slowly Walls and stairway, keep and tower,
Stone by stone completed, sadly Heralded the wedding hour.
Shall it come, and never mercy Shown of God avert the doom?
Shall the longing for the absent Turn to feasting o’er his tomb ?
Yes. The Castle’s new possessor Soon shall follow thronging guests :
As the Lake reflects tue turrets
Men shall second his behests.
72 COLHORN.
Mournful, where they laughed so gladly, ’ Fa A poor beggar, haggard, grey, :
Trod with pain the stony roadside, Ca Often halting by the way. (
He too reached the Castle’s portal, Spo Stood within its archway grim, S
Loitering in the path cf cthers ; The Who would step aside for him ?
Pushed a henchman rudely, saying, “Get you hence,” but still he stood : .
Then they gave him bread and water, : “Loiter not, you have your food.” :
Twice came others, in his wallet “Ty Thrusting bread and meat, and said: 4 Wi
“Now away, why stand you troubling, : Twa: Here you cannot make your bed.” 4 7a
“Drink from her own hands iraploring, 4 “ets Tell your Lady here I wait!” - Ok
Wondering went she where the beggar 4 Wher Shadowed stood within the gate. 4 By
Now she pours the crystal water, ‘ “Thor Quickly he the cup returns ; é “oe
Oh! what golden circlet broken 4 Then < Sees she there that gleams and burns? d Spol
, io | awe Se ' aed
COLHORN.
Eagerly she grasped the token, Turning to the light away ;
Came again, and crying “ Colin!” On the beggar’s breast she lay.
Spoke he sadly : “ Hast thou truly Still the heart l loved? I know—
They have told me—that thou takest To thy love my deadly foe.
“Te gudewife, my foster mother, Unto whom I made me known When I reached the Orchy, told me
How the rurnour base had grown:
*““T was dead, or cared not for thee Who received no word of mine ;
*Twas thy lover’s doing, woman, Hungering for my wealth and thine!
“<«Take,’ the gudewife said, ‘a beggar’s Old attire ; and see the mist
Where the wedding smoke is ordered By the lips which thou hast kissed.’
“Thou hast put our ring together Can it be as one again?”
Then she raised her face, and proudly
Spoke unto her serving-men :
COLHORN.
“See you where the Baron’s people Come with him along the road ? Go and tell them quickly, ‘Colin
29)
Rules again his own abode.
Fled the traitor, pulses beating, Not with love, but craven fear ; And the beggar found the treasure That to noble hearts is dear.
Found the love no time had altered, Honoured lived, and honoured died ;
And in Rhodes and in Glenorchy Honoured shall his name abide.
Dark, Rise Where Stan
Horns Fron
While f Gath
Hound: From Quiver : Howl
Henchn
At the Start, to To the
LOCH BUY.
PART I.
: Dark, with shrouds of mist surrounded, a: 4 Rise the mountains from the shore, Where the galleys of the Islesmen Stand updrawn, their voyage o’er.
Horns this morn are hoarsely sounding From Loch Buy’s ancient wall,
While for chase the guests and vassals Gather in the court and hall.
Hounds, whose voices could give warning From far moors of stags at bay, | : Quiver in each iron muscle, 5 Howl, impatient of delay.
: Henchmen, waiting for the signal,
) At their chief’s imperious word Start, to drive from hill and corrie |
To the pass the watchful herd.
76
LOCH BUY.
Closed were paths as with a netting, Vain high courage, speed, or scent ; Every mesh, a2 man in ambush Ready with a crossbow bent.
*‘ Bachan, guard that glade and copsewood, At your peril let none by !”
Cries the chief, while in the heather Silently the huntsmen lie.
Shouting by the green morasses Where the fairies dance at night,
Yelling ’mid the oak and birches Come the beaters into sight.
And before them, rushing wildly Speeds the driven herd of deer,
Whose wide antlers toss like branches In the winter of the year.
Useless was the vassal’s effort To arrest the living flow ;
And it passed by Eachan’s passage Spite of hound, and shout, and blow.
* Worse than woman! useless caitiff ! Why allowed you them to pass?
Back, no answer! Hark, men, hither! Take his staff and bind him fast.”
Mc M: With Me
Ah, I Bez That If i
Deem Savi Think: At s
Often ; Whe Surging Over
He, anc Well
Serving Shielc
ood,
Sr nN a a pt es ter ‘ om * gine 2 as
LOCH BUY. 7 He ae
Hearing was with them obeying, And the hunter’s strong limbs lie Bound with thongs from tawny oxen, "Neath the chieftain’s cruel eye.
** More than twoscore stags have passed him, Mark the number on his flesh
With red stripes of this good ashwood, Mend me thus this broken mesh!”
Ah, Loch Buy! faint and sullen Beats the heart, once leal and free, That had yielded life exulting If it bled for thine and thee.
Deem’st thou that no honour liveth Save in haughty breasts like thine?
Think’st thou men, like dogs in spirit, At such blows but wince and whine?
Often in the dangerous tempest, When the winds before the blast Surging charged like crested horsemen Over helm, and plank, and mast,
He, and all his kin before him,
Well have kept the cl-nsman’s faith, Serving thee in every danger, Shielding thee from harm and skaith.
78 LOCH BUY.
’Mid the glens and hills, in combats
; And | Where the blades of swordsmen meet, F Has he fought with thee the Campbells, coeay
ee ; With Mingling glory with defeat. Hid But as waters round Eorsa Deep Darken deep, then blanch in foam, Ran When the winds Ben More has harboured ; On thd Burst in thunder from their home, ‘ Whi NT So the brow fear never clouded Neath Blackens now “neath anger’s pail, Islan And the lips, to speak disdaining, Where 1 Whiten at revenge’s call ! Rose Where t Pointe PART II. ~ Fruitful Waste Late, when many years had passed him, And the Chief’s old age begun, For the ; Seemed his youth again to blossom All the With the birth of his fair son. | Of the ar | Of the Late, when all his days had hardened Bed als Once fror Into flint his nature wild, WW Seemed it softer grown and kinder “ one ; Northwar For the sake of that one child. Somerle
LOCH BUY.
And again a hunting morning
Saw Loch Buy and his men, | } With his boy, his guests, and kinsmen,
Hidden o’er a coppiced glen.
Deep within its oaken thickets 2 Ran its waters to the sea: od a On the hill the Chief lay careless, - While the child watched eagerly.
"Neath them, on the shining Ocean, Island beyond island lay,
Where the peaks of Jura’s bosom Rose o’er holy Oronsay.
Where the greener fields of Islay Pointed to the far Kintyre, Fruitful lands of after-ages, Wasted then with sword and fire.
For the spell that once had gathered All the chiefs beneath the sway Of the ancient Royal sceptre Of the Isles had passed away.
Once from Rathlin to the southward, Westward, to the low Tiree, | , Northward, past the Alps of Coolin, at is Somerled 1uled land and sea. | |
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LOCH BUY.
Colonsay, Lismore, and Scarba, Bute and Cumrae, Mull and Skye,
Arran, Jura, Lew’s and Islay Shouted then one battle-cry.
But those Isles that, still united,
Fought at Harlaw, Scotland’s might,
Broken by their fierce contentions Singly waged disastrous fight.
And the teaching of forgiveness, Grey Iona’s creed, became
Not a sign for men to reverence, But a burning brand of shame.
Still among the names that Ruin Had not numbered in her train, Lived the great Cian, proud as ever Of the race of strong Maclaine.
And his boy, like her he wedded, Though of nature like the dove,
Showed the eagle-spirit flashing Through her heritage cf love.
Heir of all the vassals’ *.. nage Rendered to the grisly sire,
He had grown his people’s treasure, Fostered as their heart’s desire.
rr
Tr
LOCH BUY.
Surely Safety guards his footsteps ; Enmity he hath not sown:
Yet who stealthily glides near him, Whose the arm around him thrown P
It is Eachan, who has wolf-like Seized upon a helpless prey ! Fearlessly and fast he bears him
Where a cliff o’erhangs the bay.
There, while sea-birds scream around them, , Holding by his throat the boy,
Eachan turns, and to the father Shouts in scorn and mocking joy:
“Take the punishment thou gavest, Give before all there a pledge
For my freedom, or thy darling Dying, falls from yonder ledge.
“Take the strokes in even number As thou gavest, blow for blow, Then dishonoured, on thine honour
Swear to let me freely go.”
Silent in his powerless anger
Stood the Chief, with all his folk ; And before them all the ransom Was exacted stroke for stroke.
ee nn Se Rea
———
ee neseenement
* SS ae =
LOCH BUY.
Then again the voice of vengeance
Pealed from Eachan’s lips in hate:
*‘ Childless and dishonoured villain, Expiation comes too late.
“‘ My revenge is not completed !” And they saw in dumb despair How he hurled his victim downward Headlong through the empty air.
Then they heard a yell of laughter As they turned away the eye ;
And they gazed again where nothing Met their sight but cliff and sky ;
For the murderer dared to follow Where the youthful spirit fled,
To the Throne of the Avenger, To the Judge of Quick and Dead.
we
THE
Now of sh When F the And vic the Alone c in
For in cra Got gol gal Great F an A feast fol Upon © sm From |. ch Where he
THE HARD STRAIT OF THE FEINNE.
Now of the hard strait of the Feinne this legend’s verse shall tell :
When Fionn’s men had fought and won, and ail with them was well,
And victory on Erin’s shores had given spoil which they
Alone could win whose swords of old were mightiest in the fray :
For in those days the bravest hand, and not the craftiest brain,
Got gold, and skill in gallant fight was found the surest gain.
Great Fionn’s wont it was to give, when foes had bled and broke,
A feast to nobles and to chiefs and all the humble folk :
Upon the plain they sat, and ate the meat which smoking came
From layers of stone, well laid on pits half filled with charcoal flame,
Where ’neath the covering roof of turf that kept the
heat aglow
=
Hi Be i i fy 2 ; ( | 4 | Me
¥
ii
84 THE HARD STRAIT OF THE FEINNE.
The boar was quickly roasted whole, with many a stag and roe.
And while the feast, with laugh and jest, gave careless time to most,
Two watchers bold kept guard the while, and gazed o’er sea and coast—
Two watchers good, and keenly eyed, sent out by Fionn to mark
If danger rode upon the sea, with Norway’s pirate bark.
Ful) well they watched, although behind they heard the shouted song,
And knew the wine was bathing red the fair beards of the strong,
While chanted verse, and music’s notes, arose upon the air,
And the briny breeze itself half seemed a savoury steam to bear ;
Nor left their post, when from the clouds the hail- stones leaped to ground,
And plaids were wrapt o’er shoulders broad, and o’er deep chests were wound.
But Fionn’s plaid untouched lay yet upon the earth outspread,
And white it grew as lichened rock, or Prophet’s hoary head.
“Oh would it were all ruddy gold, there lying thickly strewn ;
What joy were ours to share alike, and bear away each stone.”
=
And la twa Their c the But whe ca And fo the Sore an
pric They m
and When t faré Runs fr self They sv
aw: And sal her Their fa All To melt les: She flec | lan She troc Great I to
THE HARD STRAIT OF THE FEINNE. 85
And laughingly each filled his hands, forgetful of the twain,
Their comrades good, on guard who stood to watch the moor and main.
But when‘ their lonely vigil o’er, they, Roin and Aildé, came,
And found how little friendship counts, when played the spoiler’s game,
Sore angered that no hand for them had set apart a prize,
They murmured. ‘“ With such men of greed all faith and kindness dies!
When thus they deal with us in peace, how shall we fare when blood
Runs from the wounds to blind the eyes to aught but selfish good ?”
They swore that they forgotten thus were better far away,
And sailed to Lochlin’s distant shore, and served in her array.
Their fame was great in Norway’s realm, and love for Aildé came
To melt the heart of Norway’s queen, a sudden quench- less flame.
She fled with Aildé from the King, and soon on Scot-
_ land’s coast
She trod, a messenger of ill, a danger to the host.
Great Eragon, far Lochlin’s King, was not the man
to know
86 THE HARD STRAIT OF THE FEINNE.
The blood mount hot at insult’s stroke without an answering blow,
His dragon keels were rolled to waves that shouted welcome loud
To glittering helm and painted shield beneath each spar and shroud.
Oh! strong was Eragon in war, in battle victor oft,
From many a rank, from many a mast his banner streamed aloft ;
With forty ships he set to sea, and scores of glancing oars
Streaked white his wake on fiord and loch along the echoing shores.
The Shetland Islands saw them pass, where on the tides, their sails
Shone like a flight of mighty swans, fast borne on wintry gales :
Hoarse as the raven’s note their oath rang over all the seas,
False Fionn’s host should bend and break before the Northern breeze.
And southward, onward still they steered, and up Loch
Leven bore,
As you may know, for one great ship was lost upon the shore :
The sunken rock on which she drove and inlet where she lay
Were called the Galley’s Crag and Port, and bear the name to-day.
Shouk O
Their Ss)
When n
THE HARD STRAIT OF THE FEINNE, 87
n They left her, taking all her crew, and landing near Glencoe,
d On level ground their tents were set, thick planted row on row.
h
To Fionn of the Feinne that day, King Eragon sent
word,
r To yield him homage or abide the hard doom of the sword ; |
z But grievous then was Fionn’s strait, for thrice a thou- sand men,
= His best and bravest, far away were hunting hill and glen.
: The wives, the old and feeble folk alone were left, and these
" He gathered, asking how to blind the strangers of the seas P
l Then gave they counsel: “We are weak. By thee
must peace be sought, E’en though with massy store of gold the boon to-day be bought ; And if all this do not avail,” they said, ““O Fionn, thou Shouidst yield thy daughter as the price, our ransom on her brow!” Their messenger then offered these before the set of sun ; : When flamed the wrath from Norway’s King: ‘I ask not what I’ve won,
88 THE HARD STRAIT OF THE FEINNE.
Your master stands before you now, my vengeance is my own ;
For Aildé’s deed the Feinne as slaves in Norway shall atone.”
Back went the messenger in haste, and sadly Fionn knew
The threat was uttered by the strong, against the old and few.
But homeward from the forest soon he saw each hero’s hound
Come swiftly back, in front of all he saw his Oscar bound ;
And when the foremost hunters came, he told their noble band
How fight was sought with them this day upon the Northern strand.
Then looked they for some ground whose strength would quickly hide and save
Their little force, till gathering might gave fortune to the brave.
They dug four trenches deep, where firs above the birches flung
Red gnarléd limbs that glowed at eve the dark green plumes among ;
There hidden silently they watched, while rugged, scarred, and high,
Just at their rear a peak appeared to move against the sky.
Steep were its rocky ledges, strewn with jagged stones that lay
So loos wa While de Where md Such w we For suc we To the sult Alas, to nar
They he hos His dau to And Fe tha Might c his For Fer col Till ten an Wealth his
THE HARD STRAIT OF THE FEINNE. 89
So loose one hand might send a mass on its resistless way,
While from the neighbouring hills the mount was sun- dered by a glen,
Where lightly crossed the grey cloud mists, but never mortal men.
Such was the chosen fort. The Feinne into the trenches went ;
¥or succour through all Alban’s realm their messengers were sent ;
To the green slopes of deep Glencoe the warriors sunimoned came,
Alas, too few to brave in fight the men of Norway’s name.
They held long counsel, and the chief sent forth that hostage fair
His daughter, with a chosen band, his words of peace to bear ;
And Fergus, his young son, to speak on his behalf, that they
Might change to love the king’s black thought, and all his wrath allay —
For Fergus’ speech, like ivy wreath, o’er heart of rock could wind
Till tender thoughts, like nestling birds, would come and shelter find.
Wealth to awake the Northmen’s greed should weight
his tempting word
ROOTES YEN Ne TN See acer eee sbscatby oe
P et ‘ Sat ia sy sfuains jesse aia iat a " ; arene Se : a “ Seon - 2 in ;
90 THE HARD STRAIT OF THE FEINNE.
For quaichs of gold, and precious belts, and magic stones which stirred
The torpid blood of all disease to vigorous life once more,
And fivescore mares of iron grey, and hunting hawks threescore,
Were gifts to promise, with good herds, and cows with calves at side.
They placed the maid upon a horse, and bade her boldly ride;
With Fergus marching at her rein, his comrades close at hand,
They came to where the fleet and camp thick covered sea and land.
And halting there, young Fergus spake across a space of ground
Unto the king, who foremost stood with mailéd men around;
He offered all the tribute rich, and that fair lady proud.
But when he ceased a silence fell, and then the answer loud
In Eragon’s deep voice rang forth: “ Let Fionn bring me all,
All that he hath on earth, and here let him before me fall,
Him and his wife before me here upon the shore, that I
May see them on their knees to me swear troth and
fealty,
While 4 m To spat pa
Then c yor Hath ho As e’er pra Nor shz She qu sto The sig bra The on: Then g we That A ma With se val And th
Vv
THE HARD STRAIT OF THE FEINNE. 9!
While as they homage make I shall above them rear my blade
To spare, or slay them at my feet, if so their debt be paid.”
Then called in scorn the lady’s voice, ‘“‘ No, Eragon, your might
Hath not across the broad salt seas brought such a host to fight
As e’er shall cause my father’s knees to bend to you in prayer,
Nor shall you ever call me bride, or spoil of Erin wear.”
She quickly turned her horse and went, but Fergus stood and waved
The signal banner for the chief, and for a while he braved
The onset of the foe, and fought until the evening fell.
Then gave the council their advice to Fionn. “It were well
That Aildé should himself defy the king, and man to man
With sevenscore ’gainst sevenscore contend before the
van.”
And thus they fought, and Aildé fell, and Eragon defied
An equal band to equal fight, for great had grown his pride.
Then paused and pondered Fionn long, and doubted
whom to ask
nen withe teeapitennden Beane re emer ettgtteeri® ‘at im aang
hee } a h ae A aii 4 ea i nie & | te i ee
92 THE HARD STRAIT OF THE FEINNE.
To lead in such a venture great, and dare so grave a task.
But Goli, the son of Morna, named at Fionn’s call, went forth
And matched with equal force, back drove the boasters of the North.
And yet again a band as strong was overcome and made
To own our heroes’ swords were best, when man to man arrayed ;
But Eragon in fury cried his men should conquer yet.
For eight days more aye sevenscore ’gainst sevenscore were Set,
And when the blood had flowed in streams, to utter madness urged
Against the trenches of the Feinne their baffled army surged.
Then sparkled swords like gleams of light upon the ocean's spray
When tossed aloft to wind and sun where battling currents play.
In that fierce fray did Eragon the son of Morna greet,
And, striking fast their mighty blades ascend and flash- ing meet ;
Then sank the stranger king in death, and Goll sore wounded fell,
Against the Northmen went the day ; and of their slain
they tell
That fi th
Since t qu
Note.- oral rec! of Islay.
THE HARD STRAIT OF THE FEINNE. 93
That from Glen Fewich to the shore they lay, and of the host
So few escaped that galleys twain alone left Scotland’s coast.
Nay, even they ne’er reached a port, so that in Norway none
Could tell how Eragon revenged the deed by Aildé done.
But sorrow came upon the Feinne ior all their strongest, dead ;
And Fionn found that from that time his fortune waned and fled,
For ne’er again in equal strength the Feinne in arms were seen
Since the dark days of Aildé’s love, and Norway’s evil queen.
Note.—This story was taken down by J. Dewar in prose from oral recitation in Gaelic in 1860. Translated by H. McLean, of Islay. It is rendered here nearly literally.
TOBERMORY BAY. 1588.
In the vapour and haze on the ocean, Where the skies and the waters meet,
There’s a form that drifts, phantom-like, onward As it follows the grey clouds’ feet.
O’er the sea come the winds and the billows, And they howl to the rocks, and they cry, They will bring them a wreck on the morrow,
Ere the joy of the tempest die.
The shade looming dark in the distance Is naught but a galleon proud ;
And the spray has long battered her turrets, And loosened each yard and each shroud ;
But not on the surf-beaten islands, Nor yet upon Morven’s land, Does she drive, for her rudder, unshattered, Is firm in the steersman’s hand,
TOBERMORY BAY. 1588.
No mist wreath, no cloud, was the shadow That moved on the height of the seas ;
Like a castle how steep are her bulwarks, Her spars like a forest of trees!
She is safe from the gales for a season, In the shelter and calm of the sound ; A harbour named after the Virgin, The “ Well of Our Lady” she found.
She may rest in that haven, hill-girdled, Near the shade of the woods on the shore,
Where the hush of the forest is deepened By the waterfail’s song evermore.
How grandly her masts rise to heaven, ‘How glitters the blest Mary’s form, High placed o’er the stern, and upholding The Prince of our Peace through the storm!
Now waters their orisons murmur As they fold her bright robes to their breast, Where they mirror the galleried windows, And the flag and the face of the Blest.
Again with that sign and the banner
Of the gold and the crimson of Spain, Shall this ship front the foes of the Virgin, And the English be chased from the Main.
Oa ea ey aie aoe Le saa .
96 TOBERMORY BAY. 1588.
| Yes, again on the heretic Saxon
Her cannon shall thunder in scorn,
44 Till in triumph through insolent England Shall the Faith and King Philip be borne.
But the rows of dark mouths that have spoken Defiance with sulphurous breath,
Glisten black, stretching forth in the silence, And in vain ask the presence of death.
Yes, repose and surcease of all hazard, A truce to all war for a time!
The cliffs and the pines only echo The laugh of a sunnier clime.
And gaily the dark-visaged seamen Quaff, cursing the mists and the rain ; Ca
Gravely drinking from goblets of silver Sits their chief, Don Fereija of Spain.*
Be But the souls of the men to whose nostrils Had risen the smoke of the fight, Ur * This galleon was said to have been “ The Florida,” com- manded by Don Fereija. A search at Madrid among the archives shows that the only vessel named the “ Florida” in Sw
the Armada, was a small ship which came safely back to Sant- ander Roads after the destruction of the fleet. No commander had the name assigned to the captain of the vessel sunk at Th Tobermory. The identity of this galleon remains, therefore, a
mystery.
TOBERMORY BAY. 1588.
Soon tired of the shore and of slumber, nd Soon yearned for the red battle light. ii| a
And courtesy fled from the weary, From idleness arrogance grew ;
And all they received as a favour They haughtily claimed as their due.
Then answered the Islesmen in anger, ‘The food you demand as your own,
By our people’s free :.vour long given ee i i Shall be bought by your gold now alone.” a
* Now, down with the savage’s envoy, 3 Le | Set sail and away on our track ! Ag
Carthagena’s sweet girls shall deride him, And jeer the red locks on his back.”
bp ts i dagelak eve Fee ; is
Below, in the dark narrow spaces, fi The Islesman gropes, down in the hold ; on
Unnoticed, and one among many ; What harm can his hatred unfold ?
Swarm the men to the rigging, and swiftly Shine clouds of white canvas, and clank The links of the anchor’s great cable,
Creaks, trampled on ck, every plank: G
98 TOBERMORY BAY. 1588.
Swings round the huge bowsprit, and slowly
uh With motion majestic and free,
i The galleon, vast, gilded, and mighty, Passes on, passes forth, to the sea.
Her colours still paint all the ripples, Repeated her banners all seem,
Her sails, and her gold, and her cannon Float on like a gorgeous dream.
Came a flash, and a roar, and a smoke-cloud Rushed up, and spread far o’er the sky ; Sank a wreck, black, and rugged, and blasted, While the sound on the winds swept by.
And the mountains sent back the dull thunder
As though to all time they would tell A The vengeance that pealed to the Heavens From the Harbour of “ Mary’s Well.”
Lie thn Si a SS: ta id wt SIN Wey isle Cap alin ii lacreipapsas aa -
LOCH UISK, ISLE OF MULL.
Yon vale among the mountains, yl 1a, So sheltered from the sea, That lake which lies so lonely, Shall tell their tale to thee.
Here stood a stately convent
Where now the waters sleep, ae : 4 fc Here floated sweeter music a a an Than comes from yonder deep. ae
Above the holy building 3} The summer cloud would rest, ae | .
And listen where to heaven eet Rose hymns to God addressed ; Hap be i 44
For the hills took up the chanting, a | And from their emerald wall
; aes wn ee
The sounds they loved, would, lingering, In fainter accents fall.
Hard by, beside a streamlet | a Fast flowing from a well, 7
A nun, in long past ages,
Had built her sainted cell :
100
LOCH UISK.
To her in dreams ’twas given As sacred task ani charge, To keep unchansed for ever
The bright Spring’s mossy marge.
“ Peace shall with joys attendant For ever here abide,
White reverently and faithfully You guard its taintless tide.”
And when she knew her spirit Was summoned to its rest, To all around her gathered She gave that high behest ; And many followed after To seek the life she chose, Till, like a flower, in glory The cloistered convent rose.
Through Scotland’s times of bloodshed,
Of foray, feud, and raid, Their home became the haven
Where storm and strife were stayed. Men blessed each dark-robed Sister,
And thought an angel trod,
Where walked in love and meekness
A lowly maid of God!
Right happy were they, lighting With love those days of doom ;
LOCH UISK.
For heart need ne’er ve darkened By any garment’s gloom. Yes, often life thereafter Was here with gladness crowned, For, sad as seemed their vesture The peace of God was found, His holiness in beauty Made every trial seem A rock that lies all harmless Deep hidden in a stream. While life was pure there never Was wish in thought to gain The world, where far behind them The black nuns left their pain; And time but flew too quickly O’er that friend-circle small, Where each one loved her neighbour, And God was loved of all.
Still from its beauteous chalice, That well’s unceasing store Poured forth, through whispering channels,
The crystal load it bore. Hope seemed to bring the fountain
To seek the light of day ; Faith made it bright ; Obedience Smoothed, hallowing, its way.
te Re eR inlaid
102
LOCH UISK.
Full many a gorgeous Summer Woke heather into bloom,
And oft cold stars in Winter Looked on a Sister's tomb ;
Before the joy had withered That virtue once had nursed ;
Before their Lord and Master Grew love for things accursed.
Lo! then the stream neglected Forsook its wonted way ;
In stagnant pools, dark-tainted, Its wandering waters lay.
There choxed by moorland ridges, Black with the growth of peat, Beneath the quaking surface The fetid floods would meet ; Till rising, spreading ever Above the chalice green Of that fair Well, they covered The place where it had been. Then, near the careless convent, Within the hill’s deep shade, The Fate which works in silence A lake had slowly made. As evil knows not halting When passions strongly flow, So daily deeper, deeper Would those dark waters grow;
LOCH UISK.
Till on an awful midnight, | When red the windows flamed th And song and jest and revel The Vesper hour had shamed, And wanton sin dishonoured The time Christ’s birth had crowned, They burst their banks in darkness, And with their raging sound The rocks of all the valley ‘ Rung for a few hours’ space ; Then the wide Loch at morning Reflected heaven's face.
Few voices now are heard there, ee Hl Around the wild deer feed ; Pe ae a And winds sigh loud in Autumn Hare a Through copse, and rush, and reed. | a Men say that when in darkness ee They pass the water’s verge, bee 3 f Each hears, mid sounds of revel Hila e eat The “ Miserere’s ” dirge ; | ie t a That faintly, strangely, ever | gee
Upon the Loch’s Cark breast, Beneath, above, around it Shine lights that never rest.
Of all such ghastly phantoms, Bred of the night and fear,
LOCH UISK.
By hope of our salvation
None meets the noontide clear ! The blue sky’s tender beauties
Upon the strong floods shine, As God's eternal mercy
Dwells with His might divine! Pure as their mystic fountain
They sleep and flow unstained, Although the hue of sorrow
Hath in their depths remained.
The swallow, swiftly passing Flies low to kiss the wave When rippling gently over
Some pure saint’s holy grave: The hunter’s eyes discover Beneath those waters still The walls of that proud convent, Where God hath worked His will.
THE LADY’S ROCK.
A BROTHER’s eye had seen the grief Ses ug a de y wv
That Duart’s lady bore ; , a. ie His boat with sail half-raised flies down ts ai ‘ The sound by green Lismore. qa ra 4 Ahaladah, Ahaladah! aie Why speeds your boat so fast ? ; | No scene of joy shall light your track Fda it Adown the spray-strewn blast. ; a ; 4 ae The very trees upon the isle : i be ci Rock to and fro, and wail ; a ioe a The very birds cry sad and shrill, : ee | f Storm driven, where you sail; ee : | i
© when for yon dim mainland shore You launched your keel to start li
You knew not of the load ’twill bear, The heavier load your heart.
See what is that, which yonder gleams, Where skarts alone make home ;
Is that but one oft-breaking sea,
Some frequent fount of foam?
1 aaa et ew nn rst vate eek na! res bs abs (mC MM ln ee eae
106
THE LADY’S ROCK.
The morn is dark and indistinct, Is all through drift and cloud ; Around the rock white waters toss,
As flaps in wind a shroud.
It cannot be a leaping jet, Nor form of rock or wave
There stands some being saved by God In mercy from the grave !
** Down with the sail, out oars! the boat Can reach the leeward side :
Mother of Heaven ! look you, men, Where breaks that roaring tide.”
* A living woman, do I dream Or stands my sister there, Where only at the middle ebb The shelving ledge is bare ?” O white as surf that sweeps her knee, She falls, but not to die; Ahaladah is at her side, He bears her up on high.
Away from Duart now he steers ;
Why curses he its lord ; Why flee to Inveraray’s strength,
As though he feared his sword ? Proud triumph’s notes were often heard Where Aray’s waters sing,
W
Of
THE LADY’S ROCK.
And mourners there have often wept The slain for faith and king.
But never would that lady’s lips There speak her grievous woe, Though in her chamber in the night Her frequent tears would flow. She dreamt of wrong where love was sought, Of crafty cruel eyes, Of one steep stair, of grasping hands That stifled piteous cries ;
Of wind which tore the hissing waves, And howled o’er mountains bare ; Where swollen burns in feathery clouds Were dashed into the air. Of one wet rock, of horror wild, When she was left alone, Till madness seemed to whelm her thought And, with a shuddering moan,
Again she heard the surges rush, And, where she shrinking turned, The seaweed there, like woman’s hair, The murderous billows spurned. Again the night and wind were joined
To mock her hope of aid, Till shrieking, she awoke, where once She slept a happy maid.
PEA IRV ARH ragienpe oyoteesptie Haart naires Sp Mein ssaabeas Yates, Piha roe
108
THE LADY’S ROCK.
But none would she accuse, and dumb Rebuked the vengeance call,
Till one dark eve at supper-time Within the old dim hall,
She heard some whisper, and she saw Her brother leave his place,
Go forth, and entering, beckon out A band, with stern set face.
Again he came, and o’er her bent, And whispered “Sister dear,
Let fall your veil about your head, Nor tremble when you hear
That Duart comes in mourner’s guise! Lo, there he takes his seat.
Chief, tell us why your mien is sad, When friends and kinsmen meet ?”
“My woes are great, my wife lies dead, But yester week these hands
Closed her sweet eyes, and now I bring Her body to your lands.”
Then was the arras drawn aside And girt with wake lights drear,
Beneath the archway’s carven vault, Was borne a white-crossed bier.
And Duart rose ; his shifting eye Moved like a marsh-fire pale,
THE LADY’S ROCK.
But circling back, still restless scanned The lady of the veil.
Then through the silence broke a voice, ‘¢ Know you that lady, chief ?
She too, a guest with us, like you, Well knows the pangs of grief.
You come from far, bring wine.” To each The ruddy goblet passed.
The lady raised her hand, and back The heavy veil she cast.
Strong Duart reeled as from a stroke ; He stared as at the dead:
How could her glance o’er that dark face Such deathly palor spread ?
‘Your play is out, ah cursed fiend !” Ahaladah cried loud ;
“Your death shall be no phantom false, No empty mask your shroud:
If hospitality’s high law Here shields your life awhile,
By all the saints you yet shall feel The vengeance of Argyll.”
In Edinburgh Duart’s Lord
Strides down the shadowed town ; The white moon glints on roofs o’erhead, And on St. Giles’s crown.
IIo THE LADY’S ROCK.
Another step is on the street,
The watchmen hear no cry ; But drenched in blood lies Duart, where Ahaladah passed by.
THE POOL OF THE IRON SHIRT.
Coun, Chief of Diarmid’s kin, *
Strode alone to Ederlinn. et FS f : Night, and heath, and deep morass [Le Paes , j : $F fe Hear the chain-mailed warrior pass. oo 4 oe
Ambushed lay the treacherous foe, a praee Ear to earth, and dart on bow. =
Vain their arrows’ ringing hail Fell on pointed helm and mail.
rt
As he backward leaped, there flew | | Moonlight down the sword he drew. ee
aE
In his front the lonely man Saw approach the hostile van :
Near him on the moor a tarn ; On a knoll a wattled barn.
112 THE POOL OF THE IRON SHIRT,
Refuge bad, yet near its door Sank the hot pursuit’s uproar.
For, unsheathed his battle brand, There they saw great Colin stand.
Dauntless cried he: ‘* Here within Rest I, then to Ederlinn !”
Yelled the circling hounds in ire, Set the woven wall on fire.
Sword in hand he stood, the light Gleaming on his limbs of might.
Like a cloud-built column high, Red, in sunset’s flaming sky.
All too hot for mortal frame Glowed his armour, wrapped in flame.
Hidden by the wreaths of smoke, Hewing through the wall, he broke,
a Felling seven, onward sped ; Plunging through the lake’s reed-bed.
Hiss the waters where he springs, Hatred’s yell again forth rings.
THE POOL OF THE IRON SHIRT.
But he throws his mail away, Dives, and darkness hides his way.
Smiling hears their lessening din ; Onward strides to Ederlinn.
Ages since have passed, yet still Tales recount his dauntless will.
** Pool of the Iron shirt,” thy name Keeps, in Erse, the hero’s fame.
Look you, race of ancient Gael, Never let such memories fail !
Set them far o’er gems and gold, For your sons to have and hold.
Steadfast Will its goal shall win. Fairer e’en than Ederlinn!
INVERAWE.
Does death cleanse the stains of the spirit When sundered at last from the clay,
Or keep we thereafter till judgment, Desires that on earth had their way ?
Bereft of the strength which was given To use for our good or our bane,
Shall yearnings vain, impotent, endless, Be ours with their burden of pain?
Though flesh does not clothe them, what anguish Must be known in the world of the dead, If the future lies open before them, And fate has no secret unread. And yet, oh how rarely our vision May know the lost presence is nigh; How seldom its purpose be gathered, Be it comfort, or warning to die!
With mute or half-breathed supplication Permitted to utter their prayer,
TI
INVERAWE.
Demanding earth’s justice, but ever Poor phantoms of mist and of air ;
If in aught our belief may be certain : Where founded on witness of man, ae
They come; and no tomb e’er imprisoned The shade when corruption began.
They come: and oh swiftly they follow The track of the murderer vile ;
He is haunted for ever; his refuge A hell on far ocean or isle! . Be
Though he fly as once fled from Barcaldine ) ye Young Donald’s assassin, to claim
Guest-right, where all mercy a treason To kinship and justice became.
““Inverawe, Inverawe, give me shelter, I have shed a man’s blood in a fray ; Oh swear that you will not betray me,
By your dirk, by the dear light of day!” And the prayer in his kindness he answered, But aghast heard the voices that cried ; “Your cousin lies slain! Can a stranger
Have passed by the steep river side ?”
ish
Then bound by his oath he deceived them ; i ' But night brought a dream full of fear, |
His cousin’s pale image stood o’er him,
Came a voice he had loved to his ear:
116
INVERAWE.,
“‘Inverawe, Inverawe, give no shelter
To the man by whom blood has been shed :”
And he went to his guest, saying, “‘ Leave me, I obey the dear voice of the dead.”
** By your oath, by the light of God’s heaven Your word has been passed for your guest.” “Then sleep in the cave in the mountain, If Donald allow you to rest!” Again shone the vision more awful, Ere the hours of the darkness had fled ; “Inverawe, Inverawe, give no shelter To the man by whom blood has been shed.”
But empty the cave was at morning, When searched for the murderer’s trace,
And the ghost came again in the darkness, The gore on its breast and its face.
‘“Inverawe, Inverawe,” again whispered The shade of the echoless feet,
“My blood has been shed, I await thee, At Ticonderoga we meet.”
And often in wonder repeated That warning to many was known, The strangely named place for the trysting Men said was in dreamland alone ; “Why cherish a dismal illusion ? War summons gay hearts to the strife :
W
And
INVERAWE.
All share in the prizes of glory, The chances of death or of life.”
In camp, on the march, in the battle, Bi | at His thought would repeat evermore, }
*‘ At the place fore-ordained in the vision | ht I shall pass to the Dark River’s shore.” rt i
And often awaiting the summons, | a ah He asked for the wild Indian name,
When curled o’er American hamlets pee | The smoke from the guns’ sudden flame. ated
The forest one evening was silent As though in the calm of a trance Yet within it two armies were resting, The soldiers of Britain and France. Our Highlanders slumbered, march-wearied, Their sentries at watch in the wood: ee | Behind their long lines of entrenchment The French in their bivouacs stood.
‘“‘Inverawe, take your sleep ere the morning, When our praise or our death shall be sung,” A comrade cried ; “soon for Carillon A chime that is new shall be rung !” : : yl s But the air of that night of midsummer Leal Seemed chilly, and sleep fled away ; And he wandered to where, near Carillon, The charge would be sounded at day.
INVERAWE.
To the North a pale ray of Aurora Si Shot white o’er the black forest spars, A lake through the pines sofily gleaming R
Lay calm in the radiance of stars.
It seemed a sweet heaven, whose brightness J Life’s dark prison-bars could not hide :
As he gazed, lo, he thought that a figure
Advanced from that silvery tide. E
Distinct as a luminous shadow, | A It moved in the starlight alone,
Till it came to him close, and he shuddered, Th For the face that he saw was his own!
The cloak of the dread apparition Hi: His own, but bedabbled in blood !
Inverawe stretched his hand, but the spectre Had vanished like mist in the wood.
To the fires of his comrades returning, “ Ah! friends, you deceived me,” he said ; ‘‘Why conceal from my ears that Carillon Has the name that was named by the dead? "Tis Ticonderoga, the fortress We march on the morrow to storm, Where Death and the Phantom stand watching The hour when our column shall form.”
The morn brought the hell of the onset, When bayonet and Highlanders’ blade
INVERAWE. 119
Sank crushed where the trenches were flashing In the roll of the long fusillade.
Repulsed ! O how sadly at night-fall The remnant was gathered and told !
Ig silence they thought of the wounded, And mourned the brave hearts that were cold.
Ere thundered again the dim battle Saluting the deathless in God,
A truce found that Leader ail gory, Yet gasping his breath on the sod.
They bore him to camp, where around him They pressed as he beckoned in pain:
His voice seemed a breath in the forest,
‘“‘T die—I have seen him again.”
AN ISLESMAN’S FAREWELL.
AH! must we part, my darling? O let the days be few, Until your dear returning To one who loves but you ! Where’er your ship be sailing, Think on your own love true ; The back of the wave to you, darling, The back of the wa e to you!
The witch, who oft at midnight Above Ben Caillach flew,
Told me she dreamed no danger Athwart your vessel drew ;
For you she said the breezes Aye strong and fairly blew ;
The back of the wave to you, darling, The back of the wave to you!
Ah! waiting here, and trembling When dark the water’s hue,
AN ISLESMAN’S FAREWELL.
I’ll long for the dear pleasure That in your glance I| knew ;
And pray to Him who never Can lose you from His view.
The back of the wave to you, darling, The back of the wave to you.
at PRS Be ip inton SRR Gn mata HA en ey See y iP a ht ae Nag x BF igs alice pe
PREFACE TO DIARMID’S STORY.
Best beloved of ancient stories Are our Diarmid’s woes to me. Like a mist, by breezes broken, So this tale of olden glories Floats in fragments, as a token Of the song of Ireland’s sea.
Through long centuries repeated Lived the legend told in Erse, But a change comes swift or slowly Fades the language, and defeated Flies the faith, once counted holy,
Old-world ways, and oral erse.
Not from men of note or learning May we gather now these tales, Heard beneath the cotter’s rafter, Or where smithy sparks are burning, Or at sea, when hushed the laughter Of the breeze on hull and sails.
PREFACE TO DIARMID’S STORY.
Then with Ossian’s rhythmic measure Comes upon the fancy’s sight, One with golden locks resplendent, Great and strong with eyes of azure, And, again in the ascendant, Magic reasserts her might.
Nought can wound him, sword or arrow, Only powerless are the spells
Where on the footsole implanted
There is hid a birth-mark narrow,
But this hero’s brow enchanted Every woman’s love compels.
Woe to him, that she whose glances Won the king on Denmark’s shore,
Evil, beautiful, imperious,
Born where wheel the grisly dances
Through the glen of ghosts mysterious, Love’s first passion for him bore.
For she saw his forehead bending O’er the snarling dogs at strife At the wedding-feast of greeting ; And at dusk unto him wending, “Come,” she said, “let this our meeting Pledge my soul to thee for life.”
Spirits ct eh ida cs el PR TTAAT A ANd es aspera Aine: ges - ewe a
z
124
PREFACE TO DIARMID’S STORY.
‘If, O queen, we go together,
Not with friends, nor yet alone Must thou be, nor sheltered eve:, Housed, nor braving wind and weather ; If on horse or foot, then never
Can thy love to me be known!”
Flight were shield and fence far surer ’Gainst a wily woman’s ways
Than the wit of man; for seated
Ere the dawn, his fair allurer
At his open door repeated All his words, with longing gaze.
“Go with me, O Diarmid ; see me Not on horse, or foot ; with friends, Nor alone ; not night or morning Reigns: O come; thou wilt not flee me? Never lived a warrior scorning
Every joy that loving lends!”
Then at last by her caresses Into flight and guilt beguiled, Diarmid loathed his life, abiding In the caves’ or woods’ recesses, Like a thief or coward hiding, To his fate unreconciled.
i
PREFACE TO DIARMID’S STORY.
Thus the mightiest magician Warped the true and loyal heart, And he fled with her, forsaking Friends and kinsfolk, while contrition Gnawed into his life’s days, making Sad his journey, hard his part.
He, a fugitive, whose valiance Made the Feinne fair Erin’s boast ! Where the red cascade descended, Lovely Grinie’s evil dalliance Held him thrall as though were ended Noble warring with the host.
He a slave! whose oaths had ever Bade him “champion the oppressed,”
Pledged him to ‘‘ confound the clever,
Aid the losing man’s endeavour,
Be the first in fight, and never Heedless of the king’s behest.”
Once upon a rock, tree-shrouded, Hungry they had climbed to eat Where the scarlet berries clustered : Suddenly below them crowded Dogs and huntsmen, ’til were mustered All the Feinne beneath their feet.
126
PREFACE TO DIARMID’S STORY.
Fionn, then, their grim commander, Dreaming not his wife was near,
Had a giant chess-board graven
On the sod, and played; and under
The green leaves which gave him haven Diarmid watched the game in fear.
Oscar lost, with Fionn playing,
Until Diarmid, from on high © Dropped the scarlet seeds to guide him, Thus his presence there betraying :
And the friends of Fionn eyed him,
Shouting, “ Thou shalt surely die!”
But all Diarmid’s comrades for him Fought, each venturing his life: And amid the dread commotion Iled the twain, until before him To the peaceful sands of ocean Ran a woodland stream of strife.
Dwelling on its banks he made him There the wooden bowls that none
Fashioned with the dirk so deftly.
But the chattering stream betrayed him:
From the secret forest swi tly
I‘lashed white shavings in the sun.
PREFACE TO DIARMID’S STORY.
Then the king cried, “ Grinie’s lover Near us hath his lurking place !
Sound the hunting horns around him!
See if from the thickets’ cover
By the ancient vows that bound him ca ;
He shall come to join the chase!” b meh | a How the queen bore his upbraiding ; cre How his death in hunting came, ite A
Tell the verses here translated : ; aa Lights are they, in transit fading, | Scattered sparks, oblivion fated,
Memories from a mighty flame!
GRINIE’S FLIGHT WITH DIARMID. (FROM THE GAELIC.) L
THE Hern at early morning cries,
Where at Sleve-gail the meadow lies. L Tl
Say, Duin’s son, whom I love well,
Canst thou thereof the reason tell P Sh TI
O! Gormla’s daughter, thou whose sire
Was named from tireless steeds of fire ; TI Or
Thou evil-working one! thy feet
All Tread treacherous ways of ice and sleet. W: Grinie! of lovelier hue than Spring Bu To flower, or bloom on bough can bring, Ha More fleeting far your love that flies Ye:
Like the cold clouds of dawning skies.
GRINIE’S FLIGHT WITH DIARMID. 129
Because of thine ill-chosen part os My fortune’s firm set rivets start. ; ae a aq
Yes, thine the deed, brought low to pain, wat My grievous woe thine only gain.
From palaces of kings beguiled, at For ever outcast and exiled : et
Like night-owl mourning, as she strays,. Her joy through dark and distant ways. pia
Like timid hind or hunted deer, Through secret glens I tread in fear.
Shunning the loving friends who hold The house of hosts so loved of old.
Their forms shone glorious as the lights On the deep snows of frosted heights.
All these I left—mine own—whose love Was generous as the Sun above.
But they are now hate-filled as though Emp Hate’s sea would never ebbward flow.
Yes, since beguiled by you I fled, Misfortune follows where I tread.
130
GRINIE’S FLIGHT WITH DIARMID.
Lost now my white sailed fleet’s array, Through you my band is lost for aye.
Gone all my wealth, my gems, my gold, All for the tale of love you told!
To me my friends are lost, to me No more my country mine shall be.
Lost are my men whom none e’er found Weak behind shield on battle ground.
Lost is their kindness evermore The love for me the Feinne once bore.
Lost to mine honour mine own right, Lost music’s joy and lost delight ;
Erin and all I there have known, For your ill-omened love alone.
Return I dare not,—may not,—-never
Know their great friendship, gone for ever.
More than the beast of sharpest beard My deed in hate by Fionn 1s feared.
Yes, fairest Grinie, thou hast done Ill to thyself in love thus won.
Thou, v And kin
O Diarn Than the The sou Than all
More bel Those ey¢ Ay, deare The great
Love’s mz Than hon Ah, when Seemed tl
My heart : Adoring tl And wert Not one d
Oh! white Although i Yet stay, s Vowing ne
ee ee $l eee Z eb a
GRINIE'S FLIGHT WITH DIARMID. 131
ser, eee
Thou, winning hatred, wentst with me, And kingly joys were spurned by thee. Pe
GRINIE.
O Diarmid! O Diarmid! of face far more fair Than the new-fallen snow, or the hill flowret rare, oa The sound of thy voice was more dear to my breast
Than all the bright satin the Fianti possessed. ao oS ‘ , AL
More belovéd to me is the hue of thine eyes, | ras dre
Those eyes like the morning's bright dew of the skies, ee
Ay, dearer to me than all strength or all gold The great hall of the king of the Feinne shall e’er hold.
Love’s mark is more sweet on thy beautiful brow Than honey that drops where the green grasses bow ; Ah, when I beheld it above me, how pale
Seemed the glory and power of the Monarch of Fail.
My heart seemed to fall as I looked at thy face, t Adoring thy might ever blended with grace,
And wert thou not mine, to be gained to my side,
Not one day in this world would my spirit abide.
Oh! white-handed hero, so handsome, so strong, ee Although it is I who have wrought all thy wrong,
Yet stay, stay again with me, wife would I be,
Vowing never on earth to be faithless to thee.
132 GRINIE’S FLIGHT WITH DIARMID.,
DIARMID.
Why love a woman mild in speech, And yet a traitoress to each ?
GRINIE.
’Twas misery sundered my life from the king’s,
I left thee awhile, for love, torturing, stings ;
Never more will I leave thee—my tender love round thee,
Like fresh boughs for thy life, would have sheltered and crowned thee.
DIARMID.
Fulfil then thy word, though so faithless, how fair! Thy love, oh my Grinie, no giant shall share.
/ote.—From Gaelic verse, printed by J. F. Campbell, Esq., in “ Leabhar na Feinne.”
THIS vale Where de Of old sa In the st
List if you Of gentle Of him w. And sorrc
Loved Os But sees u Such strai Though d.
* Taken Written dow
Spa Pa Sag Ee eS ceanaiemerss| — a Seat ae?
THE DEATH OF THE BOAR*
7 = 2 en
und OssIAN. | Tus vale of Peace, this glen close by, ) Fy cred Where deer and elk would ofien cry, oreo ah al
Of old saw the fleet-footed Fianti bound In the strath of the west as they followed the hound.
r! List if you wish to hear a lay meted |e Of gentle folks long passed away, Of him who was Prince ; of Gulban’s blue hill,
And sorrow-cursed Diarmid’s sad legend of ill. Sq.»
AUDIENCE. ee Loved Ossian, sweetest voiced, what dav A But sees us listeners to thy lay? siege neat Such strains from no birds of the shoreland can float, He leg
Though dawn give each leaf in the woodland a note. i
* Taken from “ Leabhar na Feinne,” and a prose version written down from oral recitation by J. Dewar.
134 THE DEATH UF THE BOAR.
OSSIAN. My own good king was hunting gone, They whom no deerlike terror won, His Feinne, through the secret glens followed, and we Descended the slopes that lead down to the sea.
Then saw our own great king, whose word
The Feinne, the brave, obeying heard,
A nine folded shaving of wood brightly curled, Shining white, as to seaward the swift waters swirled.
He grasped it, scanning it, the coil
Hid five feet and a span of soil ;
Then loudly he cried, “ Ah, Diarmid is here,
No swordsman of Cormac, but Diarmid is near !”
In truth, my own gocd king then swore
To break his fast and drink no more,
Until were unearthed the vile face of his foe, If the caves of all Erin should refuge bestow.
Our hounds we sent, and shouting went
Where o’er the vales the branches bent ;
The wild-cat we chased from the glens, that the cheer And cries of our hunting might fall on his ear.
He who was never weak in fight
Heard the loud voices strike the height ; To Grinie he cried, ‘‘ Though the hounds do not bay, I wait not their voice, to the hunt I’ll away.”
O Diar That hu Where g Thou k
Ere hou To ever And sha To lose :
Then do\ To the fa And glad Came aid
Where 0’ Were hau And fine ) Where oft
There Gri "Twas ther Command To watch
THE DEATH OF THE BOAR.
GRINIE.
O Diarmid! wait until they cry,
That hunting shout is but a lie,
Where grieves for his wife Cuall’s son, there for thee Thou know’st thy peril for ever must be.
we
DIARMID Cee
Ere hounds can open on the scent, Tei i To every chase my steps are bent, And shame were it now for the king’s evil will ae? To lose a good hunt as it sweeps o’er the hill. | eee
OSSIAN.
Then down came Diarmid to the vale, To the famed sons of Innisfail, And glad was the king, for his foe in his sight
Came aidless and powerless to baffle his might. atk
BT Suey BS
Where o’er his red straths Gulban soars, Laas ; _| wat
Were haunts well loved by savage boars, ee ae eer And fine were the knolls on the blue mountain’s face,
Where oft for King Fionn resounded the chase,
There Grinie’s love brought her to shame, "Twas there the king, with cheeks of flame, ay, i Commanded the hunt, and ’twas there Diarmid stood ‘To watch for the boar if he broke from the weod,
i § ws ei ck Ht e | ne i + 4 ;
136 THE DEATH OF THE BOAR.
Deceit a grievous evil wrought!
The monster’s ear our tumult caught ;
He moved in the glen, as from east and from west, The shouting grew louder as nearer we pressed.
Envenomed, old, rage-filled, his jaw Foamed as his eyes the heroes saw, And faster he went, his strong bristles and mane Erect, sharp as darts, strong as wood of the plain.
Fligh reeds that fringed a marsh he found,— Turned on the dogs all baying round,
And killed in a moment the bravest, and glared As though to the combat thetr master he dared.
FIONN.
A huge old boar hastes yonder, mark
Of wounding full and bloodstains dark,
Now follow yourself, noble Diarmid, there goes A monster of evil and terrible woes.
OSSIAN.
As quick his way the warrior took,
No trembling hand the javelin shook,
And hurrying fast as he closed with the boar He rushed as in floodtide the wave to the shore.
Shot gl Straight But spl The sha
The sw That vi Then di Unwea
But gloc
For fro1 He saw A conqt
fle saz Deep-rin And hea That vai
But Dia Lo prais That pre Whose
A dart i Among t
And non The poin
* The °
from J. De
THE DEATH OF THE BOAR.
Shot gleaming from white hand the spear, Straight through the flank its path to shear,
But splintering there, left the head buried deep ; The shaft fell in three as it whirred o’er the steep.
The sword, the olden, he unsheathed That victory in each battle breathed, Then died the great beast on its blade’s dripping length ; Unweakened, unharmed rose the youth in his strength.
But gloom the monarch’s heart oppressed,
For from the hillside to the west, un He saw how fair Diarmid, unhurt by the tooth, | aed A conqueror stood in the beauty of youth. eee Fle saw the Feinne’s loud wondering band,*
Deep-ringed around the carcass stand,
And heard as they praised the good courage and might : That vanquished so soon the grim beast in the fight. ? But Diarmid went apart, lest he ch ee
To praise of self should listener be ; That praise was to Conan’s vile envy a sting, Whose eye looked for gain to the hands of the king.
A dart in deadly poison dipped
Among the rough black hair he slipped,
And none could have seen where the bristles derlaid The point firmly set of the venomous blade.
* The verses in italics are from the prose version received from J. Dewar.
138 THE DEATH OF THE BOAR.
Then silent long, the king at last
Spake, all his thought to hatred cast,
“Q Diarmid, now measure the Boar, snout to heel,
What length on the ground may the dark hide conceal ?”
What man among the Feinne e’er saw
The youth from friend or foe withdraw ?
He measured the back barefooted, and passed Unharmed down the rugged spine, rigid and vast.
FIONN.
‘OQ youth, whose weapons wound so sore,
I pray thee prove this yet once more,
Whate’er thou desirest I’ll give thee, but see,
From foot to the snout what the measurement be? ”
OSSIAN.
Again his sandals he unlaced,
And ’gainst the hair he slowly paced,
And bare was the foot where alone mortal harm Could strike his limbs guarded by magic and charm.
There at one spot, life’s crimson well
Was fenced by no enchanted spell.
Ah! tf on that death-spot but one vein were rent, How staunchless the flow of life’s fountain unpent |
And fe A keen For, pid Saw gla
lig
Full soa Ran lik Then s
Whose 1
His blos From so Ah, pite How the
The che Which f Now bla Blue-sha
A drink, One cup My bloo Oft kind
de
99
THE DEATH OF THE BOAR.
And fear was on him: as he stepped,
A keen pang through his senses swept,
For, pierced by the venomous bristle, his sight
Saw gloom shroud the mountain, and darkness the light.
Full soon the poison through his veins Et Ran like a fire with fever’s pains, ey | Then sank the bright locks of the warrior brave, Whose face bore in anguish the hue of the grave.
His blood ran fast, as down a hill ‘ From some high spring a slender rill ;
Ah, piteous it was on the brae to behold
How the guileless youth lay in his torture untold.
The cheek which shared the berry’s hue Which flushes red the hillside’s dew, : Now blanched, was as cold as a cloud when it lies | i Blue-shadowed at noon in the vault of the skies. i
aod
DIARMID.
A drink, one drink, O Fionn, give, One cup to let me drink and live! My blood flows so fast, give me drink from the spring, Oft kind were thy words, the good words of a king!
140 THE DEATH OF THE BOAR.
FIONN.
No! not one cup your lips shall drain,
To quench your thirst, to cool your pain!
What good is your life to me? what has it won,
That the deed of one hour has not more than undone ?
DIARMID.
Not mine the wish to cause you care,
In East or West, not here or there !
But Grinie’s the evil, when, captive, I found Her love but a shadow, her word but a sound!
A drink, one drink, O Fionn, give,
One cup to let me drink and live!
My blood flows so fast, give me drink from the spring, Oft kind were thy words, the good words of a king.
FIONN.
No cup of mine your lips shall drain
To quench your thirst, to cool your pain,
What good is your life, can its fair deeds o’erpower The guilt of one act, and the curse ..f one hour?
DIARMID.
If you could think of Sween’s dread day — No! vain that memory passed away !—
When In the
When Of grat When t yo Came q
And yet In Tar
Not vai I fought
And In From la I killed Hard di
Remem Carbui | To the gaz Ah, Gul
If know How sn; Their m The frie
THE DEATH OF THE BOAR. 141
When fell the eight hundred and three, and my sword Rael In the narrow pass drank of their blood as it poured ! Mice
When prisoned in the Rowan Hold, e? Of gratitude your words once told, When the white teeth were wounding your limbs, and ed your breath ar
Came quick, for the fray brought you near unto death.
And yet again your friend was I
In Tara when the strife waxed high, ig Not vainly you sought in that hour for a friend, |
I fought for thee, king, making Enmity bend:
And Innse’s sons, the three, the brave, ng From lands far hidden by the wave: I killed them for thee, who oppressest me sore ;
Hard died they, O ruthless one, washed in their gore!
Remember Connell! see again eae
Carbui front thee with his men,
To the host of the Feinne see how threatening their gaze :
Ah, Gulban, I burn, as I look on thy braes.
If known to Oigé’s women fair fe ae How snared and trapped I here despair, | [heir mourning would rise, and their men would lament The friend whose sad eyes on Ben Gulban are bent.
4 OP). wees
a
142 THE DEATH OF THE BOAR.
I, Diarmid of Newry named,
Of Connaught, of Béura famed—
Foster son to that Angus of Brod whose stride Revealed the best man on the far mountain side :—
‘““The Eagle of the Red Cascade ”»—
“The blue-eyed Hawk whom no man stayed ”— They called me—‘ the strongest of all who could throw The stone, or the spear, at our game or our foe.”
Then knew he, as his strength grew less
That death would end his sore distress ;
The Feinne stood around, and they pitied the man So weak, once the strongest who fought in thetr van.
They searched for water, and they found
A spring, clear-eyed, tn mossy ground,
But cup had they none, and their hands, as they went, Let fall every drop ere ver Diarmid they bent.
In bitterness of soul he thought,
“ They mock me, now that Iam naught,
Your kind hands all leak! of your deed men shall tell, The ‘ spring of holed palms’ shall they name yonder well.
Yet would Task you, now I aie,
To lay me where the stream flows by
The water of Lunnan, for there in my grave Ll hear, though I see not, tts cold shining wave.
There p My G
And w ’Tis D
Oh woe The vic I faint, With m
Ow
Ul,
ll,
There place a pillar stone, and bear My Grinte some day to me there,
And well to the traveller the words shall be known, "Tis Diarmid who lies neath yon Pillar of Stone.”
Oh woe is me! a foul swine’s prey, The victor lord of battle’s day !
I faint, done to death, let me turn, let me lie
With my face to Ben Gulban, to see it, and die.”—
OSSIAN.
In tears, and mourning sore, Then to his grave we bore That brave and hardy one; On a green knoll alone, Beneath a mighty stone
That sees the western sun.
When Grinie coming there, At last of all aware,
Beheld his narrow bed ;
As though her life took flight, Bereft of sense and sight, She fell, above the dead !
Then from her swoon awoke, Her voice in cries outbroke, And in this song of woe,
THE DEATH OF THE BOAR.
144 THE DEATH OF THE BOAR.
Wherein his praise was heard In every mournful word, Above the river’s flow.
GRINIE.
Two in a fastness of rock were concealed,
Oft we lay there for a year unrevealed,
Though hidden from Fionn by the stream as it leapt, Where it wet not the head of my love as he slept.
In the hunt’s contest the keenest to share,
Yard was that bed for thy thick golden hair!
Never thought he of fear as he sprang to the cry, When the chase was afoot, and he joined it, to die!
Hour of my torture, ochone, how the pain,
Sore, and sharp, as at first, smites again and again, Sightless dear eyes, voiceless lips, and the breath Sweet as honey, now lost in the chambers of death !
Sister’s son of a king, a monarch high-placed, Victor and friend, once with courtesy graced ! Ah what a generous heart to have nursed Vengeance so causeless, a plot so accursed !
Diarmid, O Love, the best sword of them all, Victory flew to the field at thy call ;
Strongest arm in the games, thou wast ever the best, Whether called to the fight, or to aid the distressed.
Blue
Ont Gent] The u
White Dance Never As the
Like t Were 1
Pure a Who v
Sad is Restle: Oh, the But in
Now st In the
yo: Overbo Surceas
Dark is Narrow Never n When a
THE DEATH OF THE BOAR. 145
Bluer your eye than the blaeberry kissed On the high mountain’s shoulder by sun and by mist ; REN Gentler your eyelids’ soft motion, than where iE The upland grass waves to the breezes of air.
Whiter your teeth than the blossoming spray ) Danced in the winds ’mid the brightness of day ; | nn Never harp was so sweet, never bird-song above, | pt, As the voice that is hushed on the lips of my love.
Like to the sun-nurtured sparkles of air Were the fair yellow waves of the locks of thy hair,, « Pure as foam the soft skin of the one of our race, be Who was mighty in mind as majestic in grace.
Sad is my heart, to no joy-shout replying,
Restless, lamenting in grief never-dying ;
Oh, the mavis calls sweetly in drear deserts lone,
But in vain I must yearn for the notes I have known.
Now shall my soul find its calm nevermore ; ’ In the depths—the blue depths—of your eyes as of Se ea ye
as
yore, Overborne by a perilous flood I shall know Surcease of no sorrow, no lightening of woe.
Dark is your dwelling-place under the mould, Narrow your frozen bed, songless and cold ; st, Never morn shalt thou see, till the day of God’s doom,
d. When awakened, O hero, thou'lt rise from the tomb. K
05 ren aah ge Be eR age
146 THE DEATH OF THE BOAR.
Dead in the earth, and there hidden away, Who shall not yearn for thee, fairer than day? Be my blessing now thine, be it thine evermore, Let it rest on the beauty ‘twas mine to adore.
OSSIAN.
Each bard prepared his harp for singing That calm and lofty hero’s praise ;
Deep sorrow through the long notes ringing, How wild their dirge, how sad their gaze !
THE BaRDs.
Mayest thou be blessed, O thou our fairest Beloved, once to fortune dear,
If still for Ireland’s Feinne thou carest, See how they wail thine absence here.
O strength, like flood on foemen pouring, Or swoop of eagle from the sky,
Or as the rush through ocean roaring When myriads from leviathan fly!
Béura’s lord! thy fair locks, waving
Hath ceased, pressed down beneath the soil:
Thou’rt seen no more the billows braving, No more thou'lt know the hunter’s toil.
When
Sha O mar Whi
For th No Our sc The
Yes, fe A le Old oa The
Yet th Arot Changs Was
THE DEATH OF THE BOAR.
When blows are rained thy blade no longer Shall strike where clear thy war cry rose, eepiasy
O man, whose love than man’s seemed stronger, Hes Whose voice no more high Tara knows. ‘i
For thee our eyes are red with weeping, No beauty like to thine have we ; Our solace gone, our best are keeping The death watch, bravest soul, with thee.
OssIAN. |
Yes, fallen all, to leave me living, | Ae A leafless tree decayed and grey, Aas | Old oaks and young, their green life giving ; The strong must fall, the weak must stay !
Yet though to-day so frail, what glory Around my youth once shone of old! :
Changed world! this poor man, weak and hoary, Has Was great in war and rich in gold. ¢
i r ¥ a
Patan a a gh tan
ne eek
KIN
KING ARTHUR AND THE CAPTIVE MAIDEN.
(TRANSLATED FROM THE GAELIC.*)
Kino Arthur on a journey went, His men and he on hunting bent.
] Came to the hill for victories known ; : He, and Sir Balva, armed alone.
] The King of Britain dreamed at night Of fairest maid ’neath Heaven’s light. Her face’s beauteous hues so clear More than all gold to him were dear. i Yet all unknown where dwelt the maid, I His doubt and awe the search delayed. : For better were a battle stern I Than, blindly wandering, still to yearn. :
* Taken down in Gaelic by Dewar. I
\“s
KING ARTHUR AND THE CAPTIVE MAIDEN.
Then spoke Sir Balva, kindly, meek, “Tt is my wish this maid to seek.
Let me now take my Squire and hound, And search until the maid be found.”
Then seven weeks, with toil and pain, We travelled wearily the main.
No harbour gave our ship a home, No land kept off the drifting foam.
But high above the rough sea wave, We saw a smooth-walled castle brave.
Its gables shone with glass. We laughed, “Ah many a drink-horn there is quaffed.”
Then sailing to its base there fell A chain that lashed the ocean swell.
I seized it, fearless, hand o’er hand I climbed upon the frowning land,
And seated on a golden chair, I found a maiden wondrous fair,
Holding a mirror on her knee, Her vesture beautiful to see.
149
150 KING ARTHUR AND THE CAPTIVE MAIDEN,
I blest her, whose sad voice replied, ‘Grief here thy blessing doth betide.
O comer from the sea, thou'lt feel The heart of stone, the blade of steel.”
Though merciless he be, yet know, His sword can deal my heart no blow.
His love or hatred I despise If gained the favour of thine eyes.
“The giant’s star-white sword alone,” Said she, ‘can wring from him a groan.
O hide thee in some place secure, Or, gallant knight, thy death is sure.”
Sir Balva heard the giant roar, ‘‘ What wave-thrown stranger climbed our shore ?”
Her voice replied, ‘‘ Now come, nor wait, My soul, for thee my love is great.
Put thou thy head upon my knee, I'll sweetly play the harp to thee.”
He rested, and a laugh displayed The white teeth of the blue-eyed maid.
KIN
( &
EN.
KING ARTHUR AND THE CAPTIVE MAIDEN. I5I
The wild harp-music sweetly rung, And sweeter still her tuneful tongue.
And on his eyes, by sea winds fanned, Sleep laid full soon his tranquil hand.
Then took they off his star-white sword And slew the Castle’s Giant Lord.
Thus how the captive maid was found, Ofit heard they of The Table Round.
PA pw cy &
SEANN ORAN GAILIC*
Do reir beulaithris ann an linn Righ Artair bhi ann an Dun- eidean, bha Triath urramach Eirinneach, a chuir tigh didean air ,
a chraig ris an abairte Aill-séid-chuan, agus ghoid e na braighde r riomhfhinne uasal, agus thuge i do’n Dun a thoge air Aill-séid- chuan, s bha e ga gleidh an sin na braighde. Bha Righ Artair I
latha anns a bheinn a sealg, luidh e a’ leigeadh a sgitheas dheth, chaidil e agus bhruadair eair an rimhfhinne a bha ann am braigh- ( deanas, agus ghabh e toil a cuir saor, ach cha robh fios aige c’aite an robh i. Ghabh sir Bhalbha os laimh dol g’a h iarraidh na’m i faigheadh e longo’n Righ. Thugan Righ long dh’a. agus sheol sir Bhalbha gus gun d’fhuair e air thuileamus i, agus thug e dh’ionnsaidh Righ Airteir i, agus b’ann do’n chuis chaidh an t
éran a leasas a dheanamh.
A AB~ bee FP
TurRus a chaidh Righ Arstair s a shluagh Gu tullach na’m buadh, a shealg ; ( Gun duine mar-ris an Righ
Ach Sir Bhalbha, fo a lion arm. Gun duine, &c.
Chunnaic Righ Bhreatun s e na shuain An aon bhean a b’aillidh snuadh fo’n ghrein
’S b fhearr leis ro na bh’aige a dh’or
An 6g-bhean bhi aige fein. ’S b fhearr leis, &c.
* The Gaelic spelt as by Dewa:.
Jun- 1 air hde éid- rtair eth, igh- ‘aite a’ m heol ig e
ant
SEANN ORAN GAILIC. 153
Ach b’fhearr leis tuiteam ann an sin
Le comhrag fir, mar bha e fein.
No dol a dh’iarraidh na mna
S gun fhios aige cia an t’aite fo n ghréin. No dol a dh’iarraidh, &c.
Thubairt Sir Bhalbha suairce cuin.
*S e morun dol a dh‘iarraidh na mna,
Theid mi fein mo ghille s mo chu
Nar triuir ’g a sireadh gun dail. Theid mi fein, &c.
Seachd seachdainnean le stri
Bha sinn sgith a sinbhal cuain
Gun chala gun talamh gun fhonn
Gun ionad amis an gabhadh an long tamh. Gun chala gun, &c.
Chuannacas an iomall a chuain Ghairbh
Caisteal mor min-gheal ghuirm,
Uinneagan gloine air a stuagh
S bu lion-mhor ann cuaich coirn. Uninneagan gioine, &c.
Air duuinn bhi seoladh stigh ri bhun, Chaidh slabhraidh a chuir a nuas ; S roimh an t slabhraidh cha do ghabh-ar crith Ach chaidhearurra na m’ruith suas. © roimh an t slabhraidh, &c.
154
SEANN ORAN GAILIC,
Cuanna’cas an ighean eididh og
Air cathair oir na suidhe a steach
Sgathan gloine air a glin,
S bheannaich-eam do a gnuis gheal. Sgathan gloine, &c.
Fhir a thainig oirun o’n chuan S truagh brigh do bheannachadh ann.
Ged thigeadh am fear mor na m dhail Gun iochd gun bhaigh le a chlaidheamh cruaidh, Air do ghuidh-se a bhean bhlath. S coingeis leam a ghradh seach fhuath. Air do ghuidh-se, &c.:
Arm cha deargadh air an thear,
Ach a chlaidheamh run-geal fein.
Agus is fhearr dhuit dol fo-chleith
Do aite air leith tearruinnt’ o’n eug. Agus is fhearr, &c.
Chaidh Sir Bhalbha fa-chleith
Agus a steach thainig am fear mor
Tha boladh an fhar-bhalaich a steach
Oirrinn iar teachd o thuinn na traigh. Tha boladh an, &c.
Anamain, a sheircein, s a ruin Is mor an gaol a thug mi dhuitt,
dh,
SEANN ORAN GAILIC. 155
Cuir thusa do cheann air mo ghluin, Agus seinnidh mi citin duit a chruit. Cuir thusa do, &c.
Chuir e a cheann air uchd an ighinn uur,
Bu ghuirme suil, s bu ghile deud,
S ge bu bhinn a sheinneadh 1 a chruit,
Bu bhinneadh an guth bha teachd wo a beul. S ge bu bhinn, &c.
Air dhuinn bhi cuairteachadh na’n cuan
Chaidil e suain, na thruim sheamh fann,
S thug 1ad an claidheamh a chrios
S ghearr iad gun fhios d’dheth an ceann. S thug iad an, &c.
Ghoid iad a bhraighdeach s gu leir S bha a bhean fein fo chumha thruim Siod agaibh aithris mo sgeul
S mar a leugh iad am bord-cruinn. Siod agaibh, &c.
Latha do Righ Arstair s a shluagh Bhi air Tullach na’m buadh, a shealg. Gun duine mar-ris an Righ
Ach Bhalbha, fo lion arm.
DUNOLLY’S DAUGATER.
Ou, dear to old Dunolly’s heart His darling daughter seemed, Yet when she fled, how pitiless His bitter curse was deemed.
To death he doomed her lover true,
And swore his lowly blood Should stain the land, whose soil would blush N At wanton womanhood.
ée
But leaves were thick, and woods were green, Where summer saw their love,
And none could tell Dunolly where Was nesting his wild dove.
Two years had sped, and all unchanged Dunolly’s mood remained ; ‘ When tired with hunting, late at eve A forest hut he gained.
DUNOLLY’S DAUGHTER.
A cheerful scene! for hung on trees On either side the door
A stag and roe, and salmon there Lay strewn the hut before.
ead
So Aa i Ni gut
There pausing silently he heard Light laughter, O well known ; And, locking through the wattled wall Stood motionless as stone.
He saw a happy woman lie sae Her true man’s form beside ;
And laugh as on the bed they tossed A smiling child in pride.
No word Dunolly spoke, but went,
An altered man, and said ; ‘Go bring them home, for rich are they, Love shows them nobly wed.”
THE ARMADA GUN.*
AN ancient cannon, finely cast Of bronze, all smooth and green with age, A by-gone actor on the stage,
Yet fit to take, as in the past
A role in war, and be the last Dread argument of kings !
The daisies grew around, and brought The homage of young spring to praise This stately relic of old days, When France with Spain for mastery fought ; And Philip over England sought To spread the Papal wings.
Initialed with King Francis’ name, With Gallic lilies sculptured o’er, Above the vent the metal bore
A Salamander crowned, in flame ;
The massive breech could even claim A sheath of lotos bloom.
* This cannon was recovered in 1740 from the wreck of a
vessel of the Spanish Armada sunk in Tobermory Bay, and is at Inveraray.
fa i is
THE ARMADA GUN. 159
This goodly weapon, forged where Seine By Fontainebleau and Paris flows, And many a painted Palace shows
These emblems of the Valois’ reign,
For centuries unseen has lain Within the seas dark tomb.
How came it there? A Spanish keel One of the Great Armada gay, Was biasted in Our Lady’s Bay ;
One of the Fleet the floods conceal,
Though o’er the waves was wont to peal The thunder of their pride.
But how came France’s lilies there Beneath the flag of red and gold ? And o’er the ancient gun we told
The story which the legends bear,
How in defeat it bore its share And stemmed the Victory’s tide.
We thought the winds of hollow sound Spoke from its mouth in solemn tone, Of great events its life had known, That thronged, as with the nearly drowned, To recollection, ere it found Beneath the sea a grave.
160
THE ARMADA GUN.
‘“**Tn flame I live, I quench its glow ;’ This motto at the foundry fire Was given me by his desire,
The king, whose crest and lilies show
How love and valour could bestow Their favour on the brave.
‘* My form was fashioned in each part By him who wrought in gems and gold, Whose glory, trumpet-tongued, is told In fearful wars, in peaceful Art, Cellini of the ardent heart, And Benvenuto named !
“The silver-voiced and laughing crowd Of ladies praised his fair design And asked if on the German Rhine,
Or English coasts of fog and cloud,
Would soon be heard my challenge loud For rights our country claimed ?
“To conquer fair Milan I threw My shot against the Swiss array On Marignano’s dreadful day :
On sledges hardy soldiers drew
My weight through snows, where eagles knew Alone the Alpine way.
Ti
Fc Ce
ah
THE ARMADA GUN. 161
“And warring for the emperor’s crown, I saw around me fall and die The noblest of our chivalry : When peerless Bayard’s high renown Quenched not his blood, that streaming down Fell on me where I lay.
** Pavia felt my iron hail, When traitor Bourbon won the fight, Yet glad was I no foreign knight
Alone had made our siege to fail,
When wrote our king the dismal tale, ‘Save honour all is lost!’
“The impious victor hurled my fire Against the wails of holy Rome, But there the devil took him home! For at the storm my artist sire, Cellini. felled him, for the ire Of God his path had crossed.
*To nobler masters still a slave, I felt the fame of Doria mine ; Saw Venice o’er her channels shine ; Pursued the Moslem on the wave, And shattered them, when victory gave Her palm to Malta’s isle.
162
THE ARMADA GUN.
‘“When Naples sent her ships to swell The swarming armaments that bore ’Gainst England from each southern shore In fleets whose numbers none could tell ; I saw how Drake upon us fell, How fortune ceased to smile.
‘‘ For tempests gathered o’er our track, The little English hornets stung, My heavy shot against them flung
Passed o’er their barks, so swift to tack,
And every ball they gave us back Upon our galleons told.
“Soon drifting o’er the Northern main Grey shores unknown were quickly vast ; Our consorts on the rocks were cast,
It was our fate alone to gain
The peaceful haven where MacLaine Set fire unto our hold.
I sank: a hundred years past by, And diving bells with searchers keen For treasure in the wreck were seen. ‘They took the gold, but let me lie To sleep another century, Then raised and brought me here.
ie
ore
THE ARMADA GUN. 163
“Valois is dead, and Bourbon’s Line No longer fills my country’s throne . But death dear France shall never own!
Once more of late her joy was mine,
Once more for her my flames could shine, My thunder echo clear.
“For when the tide of battle rolled
Against the far Crimean shore,
And France and Britain downward bore The Russian in his chosen hold, My last salute of victory told For France, as oft of yore!”
CAVALRY CHARGE—KONIGGRATZ.
if WE stood, as the helmeted horsemen
| Formed up in the light of the sun ;
We knelt, stretching bayonets towards them I As they charged, ere the battle was won.
L I marked their young leader apparelled As daintily as for parade, I re 1 A cigarette smoking, advancing “| He laughed, as he pointed his blade. A } aes “ He played with his yellow moustaches, And looked on our ranks with a scorn E Such as mantles ’gainst mist and night-vapour i On the brow of the Son of the morn. T He led a bright host where the glitter Of armour illumined the vale 5 A As a flood rises slowly, so, comiig, C
They rode with the sun on their mail.
Our
A CAVALRY CH4ARGF—XONIGGRATZ. 165
Thus he steadied his men, and none wavered As the steeds settled down to their stride, And we heard the first rush of the squadrons,
Like the gathering roar of the tide.
Their order was perfect and splendid, And his voice, that at first held them in, Had rung down their ranks for the onset, As though it were fate they should win.
I felt I half liked him as onward The lines of his cuirassiers came, Like breakers wind-driven from seaward, Dark tossed in a whirlwind of flame.
I hated the shot that must enter That steel-girt and confident breast, And quench that brave spirit for ever, That light on the cataract’s crest.
But I gave forth the word, and our volley Rang clear o’er the thunder of feet
That rolled not to us, for Destruction Rejoiced their proud splendour to greet.
And the leader who laughed at our columns, At the ranks that bid gaiety die,
On his red bed of honour at even
Lay smiling his scorn at the sky.
THE IRISH EMIGRANT. : i i 1880.
Look not for me at eventide,
I cannot come when work is done ; I go to wander far and wide,
For ’tis not here that gold is won. Perchance where’er I go, these hands au May find me what I need to live ; nt Whate’er they win, if house, or lands, s I’d yield for what they cannot give.
For who can turn away his face From home and kin and be at rest ?
What country e’er can take the place That Ireland fills within my breast f¢
More kindly smile the distant skies, They say, beyond von angry sea ;
I know not what they mean, mine eyes
Have never seen these frown on me.
THE IRISH EMIGRANT.
To me these hills beside the wave With every year have dearer grown ; Is it so great a thing to crave
To call my native iand, mine own? But why these useless plaints renew ? Farewell! ‘That word, it seems a knell ! If still I’: dear, kind hearts, to you,
mp: it
is all I ask, Farewell, Farewell !
THE IRISH EMIGRANT.
( 1883. *‘ THEY sow In tears who reap in joy,” H Was truly said of old ; he We wandered far, but round us still Stretched God Almighty’s fold. i
’Twas He who led us forth; our grief u Discerned His chastening hand, And saw not, though before our eyes Shone bright His promised land.
O bless Him for the love that made The parting greeting sore,
But for the bold heart that He gave
We bless our God yet more!
He gave us hope, He gave us strength ; For us His prairies smile,
The new world’s untouched soils for us
Spread boundless, mile on mile.
THE IRISH EMIGRANT, 16g
The richest heritage on earth For us His mercy saved ;
For ages Nature’s harvests here Unknown, ungathered, waved.
Ours now the grain which decks the plains, Ours all their wondrous yield ; aay Our children, and our kin possess " Their own, in house and field.
What wonder then if many laugh, ' And wonder joy was dumb!
To friends in older lands with less
Our happy hearts say “‘ Come.”
SONG.
OSBORNE, 1882.
HERE Rose and Magnolia Our dearest enshrine, The prayer of the south wind
Is thine and is mine, For Child and for Mother Here sweetly twice isled, Brave Seamen are praying For Mother and Child.
Where State must surround them: Beneath the Great Keep, And green oaks of Windsor Shade River and Steep, For Child and Queen-Mother The choristers aisled, With armed men are chanting For Mother and Child.
SONG. 17!
Away where the Heather Blooms far o’er the Pine, eal The Highlander’s blessing ee et
Is mine and is thine, For Child and for Mother .
Beloved and mild ;
What heart does not bless them, Dear Mother and Child.
SONNET.
i LORD F. DOUGLAS KILLED ON THE MATTERHORN, WET, SWITZERLAND, 1865. 3 Of fig
Not home to land and kindred wast thou brought, That
Nor iaid ’mid trampled dead of battle won, — Had ; Nor after long life filled with duty done Was thine such death as thou thyself had’st sought! At le au No, sadder far, with horror overwrought Was 1 That end that gave to thee thy cruel grave | Deep in blue chasms of some glacier cave, But t
When Cervins perils thou, the first, had’st fought They And conquered, Douglas! for in thee uprose In boyhood e’en a nature noble, free,— iow So gently brave with courtesy, that those | Old Douglas knights, the ce Howers of Chivalry,” The of Had joyed to see that in our times again
A link of gold had graced their ancient chain!
SADOWA.
JULY 1866.
PRN, WET, cheerless was our bivouac last eve, but still we
spoke Of fighting and of winning, to-morrow, when day broke: That day the thundering echoes of cannon in our front H{ad louder grown until around had raged the battle’s brunt. At last the carnage ended, and our regiment’s retreat Was marked by many wounded, who shrieked beneath our feet !
cht!
But here in closer order rides past a Lancer Troop—
They had but late been charging like falcons when they Swoop.
How few there are remaining ! Now the river’s bank is gained ;
The Trumpeter’s white charger with blood on neck is stained.
His snowy flanks are heaving; he shudders on the brink,
Then, gently urged, he halts again, and stoops his head to drink.
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174 SADOWA.
He cannot ford the river, for lost are strength and speed :
The Trumpeter, dismounted, now swims beside his steed.
Together they have struggled ; he will not let him die,
And soon he stands beside him though the balls are rushing by.
He takes him by the bridle ;—would lead him to the town, —
Too late,—for life is ebbing, —the gallant steed isdown !
Ah! long I saw that horseman kneel by his charger’s head,
And when at last he left him, I knew the horse was dead.
How fiercely as he passes that comrade on the plain,
Remounted on the morrow, shall sound the “ charge”
again !
ON
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lead. lain,
rge ”
ON A FOREIGN WAR SHIP’S SALUTE TO THE
QUEEN’S STANDARD AT OSBORNE.
WITH their deep voice, monotonous and slow, The cannon’s thunders roll along the sea ; But ’tis in reverence, and to work no woe Those sounds here reach the shore and onward flee Past the oak woods that climb the grassy lea, To strike thy terraces, and palace fair With stately salutation offered thee Who of these potent realms the crown dost wear. So to the fabric of our future fame, Set in the green oak of our Empire’s might : Shall history’s voice, with measured praise, proclaim Thy life-long love of justice and of right, And the good era that thy reign hath been. To hail thee, reverently, Victoria, Queen.
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Some of the Speeches,and a few of the answers to Addresses, delivered during Lord Lorne’s term of office in the Dominion, are printed in the Sollowing pages.
On taking leave of his constituents in 1878, in a speech delivered at Inveraray, Lord Lorne said :—
Judge of the wishes of our colonies, not from your own point of view only, but from that of their interests also, and from that of the well-being of the whole Empire, whose glory and power is at once the best result and the surest guarantee of the freedom which is yours, and which the colonies inherit from you. Many of you know well, because many of your relations are settled there, the great British Colonies of North America. The Dominion now stretches from ocean to ocean across that vast continent, em- bracing lands of every nature—some valuable for corn, some for pasture, for timber or for other treasures which will in future centuries make the country one of the richest on the earth—for coal and other minerals. As your former member is about to join the number
180 INVERARAY, 1878.
of your friends who are already there, you will allow him to say a good word for those provinces of the Dominion, the threshold of which civilisation has already passed, and whose fair vacant chambers tempt the settler from the Old World to enter further and to occupy.
Some years ago, at a public meeting in Glasgow, I took the opportunity to describe the temptations offered by the Canadian Government to men employed in agri- culture here to settle in Manitoba, and since that day, as before it, hundreds of happy homesteads have risen, and the energies of the Dominion have been directed towards the completion of that railway which will make Manitoba as accessible as is Inveraray. Now, let me again invite attention to this great Province and the vast territories beyond. In Argyleshire we have too few men, and we want more to settle with us, but Canada is a formidable competitor even to this fair country ; and in other places, in the towns of this land, there are plenty of men who would do well, if they can hold the plough, to follow the gallant example of their countrymen who have added glory to Britain by form- ing another great British nation. Instead of leading an unhealthy city life, it were well that many of our townsmen should take to the life-giving work of a settler in the agricultural regions of Western Canada, where they are likely to live longer and to be happier than is the lot of the great majority of mankind.
allow yf the 1 has
tempt r and
ow, I ffered n agri- t day, risen, rected make et me 1e vast 0 few ‘anada untry ; , there n hold f their 7 form- eading of our k of a anada, appier
LIVERPOOL, 1878. 181
On embarking at Liverpool in 1878 for Canada, Lord Lorne spoke as follows in reply to an address presented by the Mayor of that city :-—
We shall not forget the attention we have received, nor the great demonstration made by the people of Liverpool, of the interest entertained by them in the good of Canada, and of the love borne by the whole country for her children across the Atlantic. You who dwell at this great port, and see so many leave their native land for distant climes, will not misunder- stand me when I say that we do not lightly leave you. The heart is often sad at leaving home when the ship is about to start and the anchor is being weighed, however cheery the voices of those who raise it, and hearty the farewell greetings of friends on shore. It is, however, the duty of those who go, to look forward and not back, and it is pleasant to think that across the water we shall find ourselves among our own countrymen and in our own country, among the same institutions as those we know here and under the same flag. We shall find the same laws and the same determination to uphold and abide by them, the same love of liberty as we have here, and the same ability to guard it in honour and order, the same loyalty to the Throne for the same cause, because it is the creation of free- men, the bond of strength, and the symbol of the unity and dignity of the British people. Where in the British North American provinces we do not find men of our own stock, we are fortunate in finding those who descend from the noble French race—that
ee ee eens —
eee ee — ~~ - -
ge . -
182 LIVERPOOL, 1878.
race whose gallantry we have for ages learnt to respect and to admire—the friendship of whose sons to the Empire and their co-operation in the public life of Canada, which is adorned by their presence, are justly held to be essential. Nowhere is loyalty more true and more firmly rooted than among the French Canadians, enjoying, as all do, the free- dom of equal laws and the justice of constitutional rule. In conclusion, I will only say that nothing has struck me more than the enthusiasm mani- fested towards Canada among all classes of the community in England and Scotland, wherever I have of late had an opportunity of hearing any ex- pression of the public mind. Crowds at any public gathering have always given cheers for Canada. The great gathering of to-day is a renewed symptom of the same favourable augury, for a good augury I hold it to be, that men in the old country are ready to call * Hurrah for Canada!” On the other side of the ocean they are as ready to call “ Hurrah for the old country !” and these cries are no mere words of the lips, but come from the heart of great peoples. So long as the feelings which prompt these sayings endure —and endure, I believe they will—we may look for- ward with confidence to the future, and know that those bonds of affection which have been knit by God through the means of kinship and justice will not be sundered by disaster or weakened by time. (Great cheering.)
nt to hose
mn the their here is mong p free- tional othing mani- rf the pver I ny ex- public The of the hold it to call of the the old -of the 25, SO endure ok for- »w that by God not be (Great
LIVERPOOL, 1878. 183
In reply to an address from the Liveipool Chamber of Commerce, which was read by Mr. W. B. Forwood, President of the Chamber, the Marquis said :—
You may well believe how highly I value the senti- ments which have prompted you to come forward to- day with the address to which we have all just listened with interest, for Liverpool represents not only much of the trade of England, but much of the commerce of the world. It is perhaps the port more intimately connected than any in Europe with the American continent. It is between your quays and those of New York, that a steam service is conducted with the cer- tainty and regularity which tells of the ablest seaman- ship, and it is by your river that the fine Canadian vessels of the Allan Line come, the magnificent repre- sentatives of the prospering mercantile marine of the Dominion, and proud may that country be of such a fleet. Your address shows how highly you value the friendship of the Canadian people, in what regard you hold their esteem, and with what interest and sympathy you watch the progress they are making. It seems to me but a short while ago since I last visited Canada ; but in twelve years there is a great change to be seen. Twelve years ago the British North American provinces were only isolated colonies, bound together by no Fede- ral union, and lacking in the strength and deprived of the advantages of unity. Now the decrees of the Cen- tral Parliament at Ottawa are passed by the representa- tives of peoples whose mandates are obeyed through all that broad zone of productive land which crosses the
ee, a a ena R em
184 LIVERPOOL, 12878.
mighty continent, and the name of our Sovereign is hailed with the same affection as before, but by no mere collection of colonies, for we see a great Federal people. It is for their welfare that you, on behalf of the merchants of Liverpool, express your just and con- fident hope; and the feelings of sympathy you have shown will, I know, find a response on the other side of the Atlantic. I consider it of the highest value that such a true expression of the affection entertained by the great commercial centres of England should be heard and known. The sentiments which make the hearts of the natives of these isles beat fast with the just pride of nationality, when they see in far distant countries the flag of St. George, St. Andrew, and St. Patrick, is felt to the full by your colonists, who uphold the flag as speaking to them of the great days of old of which they, with us, are the heirs. This common loyalty to the Queen and pride in her ensign is a sure guarantee for the continued greatness of our country. You, gentlemen, have at heart the interests of commerce,
and, as merchants, the peace and prosperity of the
world. There is no better hope for this than in the unity between these kingdoms and the great depen- dencies of the Crown. You know well how real that unity is, and you will, I believe, join me in the con- fident expectation that the eyes of men may long see, beneath our Western sky, the bright apparition of Peace speeding the beneficent navies of commerce as they bear to all lands the fruits gathered from the great harvest which is earned by industry and wisdom.
eign is by no ederal half of d con- u have er side value rtained buld be ake the ith the distant and St. uphold of old ommon sa sure ‘ountry. nmerce, or the 1 in the depen- eal that he con- ong see, yf Peace as they ie great m.
LONDONDERRY, 7878. 185
On passing Londonderry the representatives of the municipality came on board ‘* The Sarmatian,’’and in reply to the ** God speed ” of the visitors, the Marquis of Lorne said :—
It is most cheering to receive from you the expres- sion of your sympathy with our mission. We shall feel, after seeing and hearing you, that we leave the Irish shore bearing with us a precious message of good- will given on the part of its people to their fellow- subjects in Canada. The Dominion of Canada owes much to Ireland. Who does not recall with gratitude
to the country that gave him birth, the rule of the late
Governor-General of Canada, the Earl of Dufferin ? Canada will never forget him, or fail to remember that it was an Irish noble whose career has given her so bright a page in her history. And from the Governors- General, on through a long list of rulers whose pre- sence was a benefit to the Dominion, we know also that Canada is indebted to Ireland for many a hardy agriculturist and many a clever artisan. It would be difficult to speak of any part of our Empire which is not in a similar case, and which does not point with pride to the services of Irishmen, for on what field of honour has the genius of the Irish race not contributed to our power? on what path of victory has not an Irish hand carried forward among the foremost the banner of our union? It is under that ensign alone, of all in the world, that an Irishman stands beneath the cross of the Royal saint of Ireland, and each patriotic effort made by a son of Erin adds another leaf to the wreath of renown which, for so many centuries, has made the
é rors se Oi te aa ad oth Me tian lpia aka ib” th i a mahi Maks
186 MONTREAL, 1878.
piety and gallantry of the race a household word among the nations. In parting from you we shall not forget your kind words, and our visit to the neighbour- hood of your city will always be a pleasant recollection. We thank you again, and ask you to convey to your fellow-townsmen the expression of our regret that cir- cumstances have prevented us from receiving your address within their walls.
Arriving at Montreal, the Princess and Lord Lorne attended the ‘St. Andrew's Ball,” and replying to Colonel Stevenson, who tendered the welcome of the committee, Lord Lorne said :—
Colonel Stevenson and Gentlemen, the Members of the St. Andrew’s Society,—To me, I need hardly say, it is a great pleasure to find myself to-night among so many of my countrymen who hail from Scot- land, and in saying this I am certain I shall have with me the sympathy of all Canadians of whatever race— English, French, or Irish. For all these nationalities wish you well. As for the English, it is impossible for them to feelanything but good-will, for they have as a people been so grateful for the last two centuries to Scotsmen for giving them a king, that they have ever since been only too happy to see Scotsmen getting their way everywhere. ‘The French population shares in the goodwill felt towards you, for they remember that in the old days it was a Scotch regiment, the King’s Bodyguard, which was the most popular corps at Paris, and that the French troops who guarded Edin- burgh were there as the allies of Scotland. It is im-
d word hall not ghbour- lection.
to your that cir-
g your
attended Stevenson, brd Lorne
embers d hardly to-night om Scot- ave with Yr race— ionalities ssible for lave as a turies to ave ever n getting on shares mber that 1e King’s corps at led Edin- It is im-
MONTREAL, £878. 187
possible for Irishmen to feel anything but the most cordial feeling of love for you, for what is Scotland but an Irish colony? But it is a colony of which Ireland, asa Mother Country, may well be proud. Gentlemen, as one bearing the name of one of the first of those old Irish colonists and civilisers of Scotland, I feel I have a right to be proud of the position taken by Scots- men in Canada. We have had the good fortune since leaving England to be constantly under the guidance or tutelage of Scotsmen. ‘The owner of the great line of steamships, in one of whose vessels we came here, is a distinguished Scotsman, well known to all in this hall. I am happy to say that the captain of our steamer was a Scotsman, the chief engineer was a Scotsman, and, best of all, the stewardess was a Scots- woman. Well, as soon as we landed we were met by a Scotch Commander-in-Chief and by a Scotch Prime Minister, who had succeeded a Prime Minister who is also a Scotsman. What wonder is it that Canada thrives when the only change in her future is that she falls from the hands of one Scotsman into that of another? Our countrymen are fond of metaphysical discussion, and are apt to seek for subtle reasons for the cause of things. Here it is unnecessary for them to do more in inquiring the reasons of the prosperity of the country, than to look around them and to note the number of their countrymen, and the existence of such societies with such chiefs as the St. Andrew’s Society of Montreal. But it is time to put an end to such light discourse, and to proceed to the graver terpsichorean duties of the evening.
MONTREAL, 1878.
At Montreal, where a most cordial and memorable welcome was given, the following reply to the Mayor’s address was made :—
To His WorRSHIP THE MAYOR, AND TO THE CITI- ZENS OF MONTREAL :—Mr. Mayor and Gentlemen,— In the name of our Queen I ask you to accept our thanks for your loyal and eloquent address. I need hardly say with what pleasure the Princess and I have listened to the courteous expressions with which we are now greeted—and for your most hearty and cordial welcome. We consider ourselves fortunate that so soon after our arrival in the Dominion, we have an opportunity of passing this great city; and while halting for a short time within its walls, on our journey to Ottawa, to make the acquaintance, at all events, of some among the community which repre- sents so large and important a centre of population and industry. Your beautiful city sits, like a queen enthroned, by the great river whose water glides past in homage, bringing to her feet with the summer breezes the wealth of the world. It is the city cf this continent perhaps the best known to tie dwellers of the old country; and not only is it famous for the energy, activity, and prosperity of its citizens, but it is here that the gigantic undertaking of the Victoria Bridge has been successfully carried out; and the traveller in crossing the mighty stream feels, as he is bot.i.e high above it through the vast cavern, that such a viaduct is a worthy approach to your great emporium of commerce. Its iron girders and massive frame are
bme was hde :—
CITI-
en,— ppt our I need and I
which ty and prtunate ion, we y; and on our p, at all
repre- pulation 1 queen Jes past summer r of this llers of for the , but it Victoria ind the as he is at such 1porium ame are
MONTREAL, 2878. 180
worthy of the gigantic natural features around, and it stands, spanning the flowing sea, as firm and as strong as the sentiment of loyalty for her whose name it bears—a love which unites in more enduring bonds than any forged with the products of the quarry or the mine, the people of this Empire. It seems but a short time ago since the Prince of Wales struck the last rivet in yonder structure ; and yet what wonderful strides have been made in the progress of this country since that day! Every year strikes a new rivet, and clenches with mighty hand that enduring work—that mighty fabric—the prosperity of the Dominion. Long may your progress in the beautiful arts and industries continue, and far be the day on which you may point to any marks but those which tell of the well-earned results of indomitable energy and determined per- severance. The people of this country may be well assured that the Earl of Dufferin has carried home with him ample proofs of the profound love Canada bears to the Mother Country, and these assurances have been conveyed by him personally to Her Majesty. We wish, in answering your address, to acknowledge the extreme loyalty exhibited by the French-Canadian populations, as well as the populations of the Maritime Provinces, through whose country we have, during the last two days, travelled, and to thank them once again, as we had the opportunity this morning, for the kind- ness shown toward us personallv. This scene, the magnificent reception of your great city, we shall ever remember with pride and gratitude.
mvt eanaaechp io eich dee oases RNa ail ae
OTTAWA, 72878.
On arriving at Ottawa, His Excellency spoke as follows in reply to the greeting of the citizens of the capital of the Dominion :—
It is with the greatest satisfaction that I accept your loyal address, and hear in it those expressions of devotion to Her Majesty the Queen, which indicate the feelings which rise so truly in the hearts of every man, woman, and child in Canada, and which not only prove the natural impulses of all who enjoy the birthright of British citizens, but demonstrate the con- victions of a people who, by the knowledge they have acquired of the political institutions of the world, cling with a tenacity and firmness never to be shaken, to the constitution which their fathers moulded, and under which they experience now the blessings of freedom and the tranquillity of order, beneath the sceptre of a Gracious Ruler, whose Throne is revered as the symbol of constitutional authority, and whose person is honoured as the representative of benignity and virtue. The attachment which binds the pro- vinces of British North America to the British flag has never been more strikingly shown than during the past year; and we know that the readiness displayed to share the dangers and to partake of the triumphs of the Mother Country is no fleeting incident, but a sure sign that the people of this Empire are deter- mined to show that they value, as a common heritage, the strength of union, and that the honour of the Sove- reign will be upheld with equal loyalty by her subjects in every part of the globe. We have now traversed, in
ra
reply to DI > — bt your ons of dicate every h not joy the e con- by have d, cling ken, to d, and ings of ath the revered 1 whose nignity he pro- ish flag ring the splayed ‘lumphs t, but a > deter- eritage, 1e Sove- subjects rsed, in
OTTAWA, 7878. Ig!
coming here, some parts of the important Provinces of the Dominion. In all places we have visited—and I regret it was not in our power, at this season of the year, to visit more—we have met with the same kind- ness and the same hearty cordiality. I can assure you we are deeply sensible of all that is conveyed in such a reception; and it has been, and will be, a pleasant duty to convey to the Sovereign a just de- scription of the manner in which you have received her representative and her daughter. It is with a peculiar feeling of pride in the grandeur of this Do- minion that I accept, on the part of the Queen, the welcome given to us at Ottawa, the capital of the greatest of the colonies of the Crown. It is here that we shall take up our abode among you, and the cordiality of your words makes me feel that which I have known since we landed: that it is to no foreign country that we come, but that we have only crossed the sea to find ourselves among our own people, and to be greeted by friends cn coming to a home. In entering the house which you have assigned to the Governor-General, I shall personally regret the absence of the distinguished nobleman whom I have the honour to call my friend, and whose departure must have raised among you the sad feelings inseparable from the parting with one whose career here was one long triumph in the affection of the people. A thousand memories throughout the length and breadth of the land speak of Lord Dufferin. It needs with you no titular memorials, such as the names of streets and bridges, to commemorate the name of him who not
2 gee
192 OTTAWA, 1878.
only adorned all he touched, but, by his eloquence and his wisdom, proved of what incalculable advantage to the State it was tc have in the representative of the Sovereign, one in whose nature judiciousness and impartiality, kindness, grace, and excellence were so blended that his advice was 1 boon equally to be desired by all, his approbation a prize to be coveted, and the words that came from his silver tongue, which always charmed and never hurt, treasures to be cherished. I am confident that the land he served so well knew how to value his presence, and that you will always look upon his departure with a regret pro- portionate to the pleasure Ottawa experienced from his sojourn among you. Iam confident that we shall find with you a generous and kindly desire to judge well of our effort to fulfil your expectations, and al- though you speak of the recent growth of your city, and contrast it with places which have become famous in the world, I need not remind you that there is a special interest and significance in casting in our lot with those whose fortune it is not to inherit history but to make it. I accept your expression of confidence, and promise that I shall do my best to deserve it.
The following is a report of the speech delivered by His Excellency the Governor-General, after distributing the prizes at the school entertainment in the Opera House, on Friday last, December 23, 1878. His Excellency said :—
Ladies and Gentlemen, and my young friends, the pupils of the Public Schools,—Let me ex- press to you the pleasure I feel in