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x.x.xIII-THE COUNTRY OF THE CAMISARDS {67}
WE travelled in the print of olden wars, Yet all the land was green, And love we found, and peace, Where fire and war had been.
They pa.s.s and smile, the children of the sword- No more the sword they wield; And O, how deep the corn Along the battlefield!
x.x.xIV-SKERRYVORE
FOR love of lovely words, and for the sake Of those, my kinsmen and my countrymen, Who early and late in the windy ocean toiled To plant a star for seamen, where was then The surfy haunt of seals and cormorants: I, on the lintel of this cot, inscribe The name of a strong tower.
x.x.xV-SKERRYVORE: THE PARALLEL
HERE all is sunny, and when the truant gull Skims the green level of the lawn, his wing Dispetals roses; here the house is framed Of kneaded brick and the plumed mountain pine, Such clay as artists fas.h.i.+on and such wood As the tree-climbing urchin breaks. But there Eternal granite hewn from the living isle And dowelled with brute iron, rears a tower That from its wet foundation to its crown Of glittering gla.s.s, stands, in the sweep of winds, Immovable, immortal, eminent.
x.x.xVI
_My house_, I say. But hark to the sunny doves That make my roof the arena of their loves, That gyre about the gable all day long And fill the chimneys with their murmurous song: _Our house_, they say; and _mine_, the cat declares And spreads his golden fleece upon the chairs; And _mine_ the dog, and rises stiff with wrath If any alien foot profane the path.
So too the buck that trimmed my terraces, Our whilome gardener, called the garden his; Who now, deposed, surveys my plain abode And his late kingdom, only from the road.
x.x.xVII
MY body which my dungeon is, And yet my parks and palaces:- Which is so great that there I go All the day long to and fro, And when the night begins to fall Throw down my bed and sleep, while all The building hums with wakefulness- Even as a child of savages When evening takes her on her way, (She having roamed a summer's day Along the mountain-sides and scalp) Sleeps in an antre of that alp:- Which is so broad and high that there, As in the topless fields of air, My fancy soars like to a kite And faints in the blue infinite:- Which is so strong, my strongest throes And the rough world's besieging blows Not break it, and so weak withal, Death ebbs and flows in its loose wall As the green sea in fishers' nets, And tops its topmost parapets:- Which is so wholly mine that I Can wield its whole artillery, And mine so little, that my soul Dwells in perpetual control, And I but think and speak and do As my dead fathers move me to:- If this born body of my bones The beggared soul so barely owns, What money pa.s.sed from hand to hand, What creeping custom of the land, What deed of author or a.s.sign, Can make a house a thing of mine?
x.x.xVIII
SAY not of me that weakly I declined The labours of my sires, and fled the sea, The towers we founded and the lamps we lit, To play at home with paper like a child.
But rather say: _In the afternoon of time_ _A strenuous family dusted from its hands_ _The sand of granite_, _and beholding far_ _Along the sounding coast its pyramids_ _And tall memorials catch the dying sun_, _Smiled well content_, _and to this childish task_ _Around the fire addressed its evening hours_.
BOOK II.-_In Scots_
TABLE OF COMMON SCOTTISH VOWEL SOUNDS
ae, ai open A as in rare.
a', au, aw AW as in law.
ea open E as in mere, but this with exceptions, as heather = heather, wean = wain, lear = lair.
ee, ei, ie open E as in mere.
oa open O as in more.
ou doubled O as in poor.
ow OW as in bower.
u doubled O as in poor.
ui or u before R (say roughly) open A as in rare.
ui or u before any other (say roughly) close I as in grin.
consonant y open I as in kite.
i pretty nearly what you please, much as in English, Heaven guide the reader through that labyrinth! But in Scots it dodges usually from the short I, as in grin, to the open E, as in mere. Find the blind, I may remark, are p.r.o.nounced to rhyme with the preterite of grin.
I-THE MAKER TO POSTERITY
FAR 'yont amang the years to be When a' we think, an' a' we see, An' a' we luve, 's been dung ajee By time's rouch shouther, An' what was richt and wrang for me Lies mangled throu'ther,
It's possible-it's hardly mair- That some ane, ripin' after lear- Some auld professor or young heir, If still there's either- May find an' read me, an' be sair Perplexed, puir brither!
"_What tongue does your auld bookie speak_?"
He'll spier; an' I, his mou to steik: "_No bein' fit to write in Greek_, _I write in Lallan_, _Dear to my heart as the peat reek_, _Auld as Tantallon_.
"_Few spak it then_, _an' noo there's nane_.
_My puir auld sangs lie a' their lane_, _Their sense_, _that aince was braw an' plain_, _Tint a'thegether_, _Like runes upon a standin' stane_ _Amang the heather_.
"_But think not you the brae to speel_; _You_, _tae_, _maun chow the bitter peel_; _For a' your lear_, _for a' your skeel_, _Ye're nane sae lucky_; _An' things are mebbe waur than weel_ _For you_, _my buckie_.
"_The hale concern_ (_baith hens an' eggs_, _Baith books an' writers_, _stars an' clegs_) _Noo stachers upon lowsent legs_ _An' wears awa'_; _The tack o' mankind_, _near the dregs_, _Rins unco law_.
"_Your book_, _that in some braw new tongue_, _Ye wrote or prent.i.t_, _preached or sung_, _Will still be just a bairn_, _an' young_ _In fame an' years_, _Whan the hale planet's guts are dung_ _About your ears_;
"_An' you_, _sair gruppin' to a spar_ _Or whammled wi' some bleezin' star_, _Cryin' to ken whaur deil ye are_, _Hame_, _France_, _or Flanders_- _Whang sindry like a railway car_ _An' flie in danders_."
II-ILLE TERRARUM
FRAE nirly, nippin', Eas'lan' breeze, Frae Norlan' snaw, an' haar o' seas, Weel happit in your gairden trees, A bonny bit, Atween the muckle Pentland's knees, Secure ye sit.