We really cannot think of inserting such verses as the following: THE CHAMPION'S FAREWELL. Otium cum Dignitate. Here! bring me my breeches, my armour is over; Good luck to broad cloth for a score or two moons! Take my head in a saucepan to Westminster-hall. To back through the dishes, with me and my cup. My horse's own tail 'twixt Duke, Marquis, and Co. They feather'd my scull-but I'll feather my oar. So Thomas take Cato, and put on his halter, And give him some beans, since I now am at peace; If a champion is wanted, pray go to Sir Walter, And he'll let you out Marmions at sovereigns a-piece. The ladies admired the pyebald nag vastly, And clapp'd his old sober-sides into the street: N. of Margate, says he means to send us "A Marine Subject." We hope it will be a Mermaid. "Summer Holidays" are very pretty, and might be relished by those who are young enough to enjoy them in reality-but the world is not so young as it was. Philogenes' "Verses to the Matchless Orinda," are defective in the title, as our legal adviser informs us; Mrs. Katherine Phillips was once married. We thought we saw some other flaws not less fatal to his pretensions. The article on H is written with too much asperity. If piquant means personal, we decline the other Communications offered by Aliquis. Henry has some good stuff in him, but it is as much as our place is worth to oblige him. "Sweet Quarter of the Year" tickled our kidneys. We suspect H. L. is a relation of his; the same answer will apply to both. On Modes of Sepulture, by M. should have been addressed (like a funeral society's hand bill)" To those who wish to be buried.” Many other Signatures are waiting for answers, but, to be brief, they must guess at the reasons of our refusal. JUDITH MACRONE THE PROPHETESS. But I am haunted by a fearful shape- Old Play. THE whole course of Annan-wa- and wild plum, remains of militer, in Dumfries-shire, is beautiful; tary or feudal greatness, dismantled from where it arises among the up- keeps or peels, and repeated vestiges of broad Roman roads and land pastures, in the vicinity of the sources of the Clyde and the Tweed, ample camps, with many of those and winding its way by old church- massive and squat structures, vaultyard, decayed castle, Roman en- ed, and secured with double iron campment, and battle-field-through doors, for the protection of catThe river itself has fine natural groves, and well-culti- tle, in former times, from reavers vated grounds, finally unites its wa- and forayers. ters with the sea of Solway, after attractions of its own: its inconsiconferring its name on the pretty derable waters are pure; and the little borough of Annan. The in- pebbles may be numbered in the terior of the district, it is true, pre- deepest pools, save when the stream sents a singular mixture of desolate is augmented by rains; and for the nature and rich cultivation; but the net, the liester, and the fly-hook, it immediate banks of the river itself produces abundance of salmon, grilare of a varied and romantic charac-ses, herlings, and trouts. The peater. At every turn we take, we come to nooks of secluded and fairy beauty-groves of fine ancient trees, coeval with the ruined towers they embosom-clumps of the most beautiful holly, skirted with rones, or irregular rows of hazel, wild cherry, VOL. IV. santry are as varied in their character as the district they inhabit. Agriculture and pasturage claim an equal share in the pursuits of almost every individual; and they are distinguished from the people of many other lowland districts by superior T 238 Traditional Literature. strength, agility, and courage: the One fine September morning, for the combined purpose of angling, gathering nuts, and exploring the strongholds of the ancient heroes of Annandale-the Hallidays, the Jardines, the Carlyles, the Bells, and the Irvings, I proceeded up the river bank, and employed my fish-rod with a success which drove me in despair to nut-gathering. It was past midday when I arrived at a fine bold sweep of the stream, where the shade of the bordering groves was invitingly cool, and the green-sward fresh, soft, and untrodden. The straight stems of the trees, escaped sarcasms lips were made for nought save there was Jeany Bell, and Kate dern allegory. A Tartan night-cap endeavoured in vain to restrain her matted and withered hair, which the comb had not for a long while sought to shed, or the scissars to abridge; her cheeks were channeled; and a pair of spectacles perched on a nose something of the colour and shape of a lobster's claw, assisted her in drawing conclusions from the appearance of a stranger. I heard the tittering and whispering of the maidens; but the voice of the old woman aspired to something more elevated than a whisper, and mingled counsel and scolding in equal quantities. "A fisher, indeed!" responded the sybil to the queries of one of her greener companions-" and what's he come to fish? -a snowwhite web from the bottom of our cauldron—Aye, aye, cause he has ae handsome leg, and something of a merry ee-mind ye, I say na twaye christen his calling honest. He's a long black fallow with a tinker look, and I'll warrant there's no his marrow from Longtown to Lochmaben, for robbing hen-roosts; and yet I shouldna wonder, Mysie Dinwoodie, if ye held tryst with that strange lad for a whole night, with no witness save the blessed moon." "Hout now, Prudence Caird," said the fairhaired girl," ye are thinking on the mistake ye made with Pate Johnstone, of Dargavel-and how ye 1. failed to mend it with Dick Bell o' the Cowfloshan." The secret history of the old woman's unhappy loves was interrupted by the appearance of a very handsome girl, who, bearing refreshments for her menials, glided through the grove, with a foot so light and white-a look so sweet-a high white forehead, shaded with locks clustering over the temples--and with eyes so large, so bright, and blue, that she seemed a personification of the shepherd maidens of Scottish song. Two fine moorland dogs accompanied her: they sat as she sat, stood as she stood, and moved as she moved. She withdrew from her companions, and approached where I stood, with a look at once so sweet and demure, that, trespasser as I imagined myself to be, I was emboldened to abide a rebuke, which I hoped would come softened from such sweet lips. Though apparently examining the progress of her linen towards perfect whiteness, and approaching me rather by a sidelong than a direct step, I observed, by a quick glance of her eye, that I was included in her calculations. I was saved the confusion which a bashful person feels in addressing a stranger, by a voice from the river-bank, which, ascending from a small knoll of green willows, sang with singular wildness some snatches of an old ballad. O Annan runs smoothly atween its green banks; Ye may see 'tween the ranks of the lofty green trees And hear the horn wound-see the husbandman's bands 2. I have seen by thy deep and romantic stream I have seen through thy deep and thy crystal stream There grows not a green tree-there stands not a stone, When the song ceased, I observed two hands shedding apart the thick willows, while an eye glanced for a moment through the aperture on the young maiden and me. A song of a gentler nature instantly followed and I could not help imagining, that my companion felt a particular interest in the minstrel's story. The time and the place contributed to the charm of the sweet voice and the rustic poetry. |