The Modern Scottish Minstrel, Volume II. | Page 2

from the pen
of Mr William Sinclair.
The Bard, expelled from the dwellings of men by
plunderers
according to one account, by a discontented helpmate according to
another, is placed in a lone
out-house, where he meets an owl which
he supposes
himself to engage in an interchange of sentiment

respecting the olden time:--
HUNTER.
O wailing owl of Strona's vale!
We wonder not thy night's repose
Is
mournful, when with Donegal
In distant years thou first arose:
O
lonely bird! we wonder not,
For time the strongest heart can bow,

That thou should'st heave a mournful note,
Or that thy sp'rit is heavy
now!
OWL.
Thou truly sayest I lone abide,
I lived with yonder ancient oak,

Whose spreading roots strike deep and wide
Amidst the moss beside
the rock;
And long, long years have gone at last,
And thousand
moons have o'er me stole,
And many a race before me past,
Still I
am Strona's lonely owl!
HUNTER.

Now, since old age has come o'er thee,
Confess, as to a priest, thy
ways;
And fearless tell thou unto me
The glorious tales of bygone
days.
OWL.
Rapine and falsehood ne'er I knew,
Nor grave nor temples e'er have
torn,
My youthful mate still found me true--
Guiltless am I although
forlorn!
I 've seen brave Britto's son, the wild,
The powerful
champion, Fergus, too,
Gray-haired Foradden, Strona's child--

These were the heroes great and true!
HUNTER.
Thou hast well began, but tell to me,
And say what further hast thou
known!
E'er Donegal abode with thee,
In the Fersaid these all were
gone!
OWL.
Great Alexander of the spears,
The mightiest chief of Albyn's race,

Oft have I heard his voice in cheers
From the green hill-side speed
the chase;
I saw him after Angus brave--
Nor less a noble warrior
he--
Fersaid his home, his work he gave
Unto the Mill of Altavaich.
HUNTER.
From wild Lochaber, then, the sword
With war's dread inroads swept
apace;
Where, gloomy-brow'd and ancient bird,
Was then thy secret
hiding-place?
OWL.
When the fierce sounds of terror burst,
And plunder'd herds were
passing on,
I turn'd me from the sight accurst
Unto the craig
Gunaoch lone;
Some of my kindred by the lands
Of Inch and

Fersaid sought repose,
Some by Loch Laggan's lonely sands,
Where
their lamenting cries arose!
Here follows a noble burst of poetical fervour in praise of the lonely
rock, and the scenes of the huntsman's youth. The green plains, the wild
harts, the graceful beauty of the brown deer, and the roaring stag, with
the banners, ensigns, and streamers of the race of Cona,--all share in the
poet's admiration. The following constitutes the exordium of the
poem:--
Oh rock of my heart! for ever secure,
The rock where my childhood
was cherish'd in love,
The haunt of the wild birds, the stream flowing
pure,
And the hinds and the stags that in liberty rove;
The rock all
encircled by sounds from the grove,
Oh, how I delighted to linger by
thee,
When arose the wild cry of the hounds as they drove,
The
herds of wild deer from their fastnesses free!
Loud scream'd the
eagles around thee, I ween,
Sweet the cuckoos and the swans in their
pride,
More cheering the kid-spotted fawns that were seen,
With
their bleating, that sweetly arose by thy side,
I love thee, O wild rock
of refuge! of showers,
Of the leaves and the cresses, all glorious to
me,
Of the high grassy heights and the beautiful bowers
Afar from
the smooth shelly brink of the sea!
The termination of the Sub-Ossianic period brings us to another epoch
in the history of Gaelic poetry. The Bard was now the chieftain's
retainer, at home a crofter and pensioner,[11] abroad a follower of the
camp. We find him cheering the rowers of the galley, with his _birlinn_
chant, and stirring on the fight with his _prosnuchadh catha_, or
battle-song. At the noted battle of Harlaw,[12] a piece was sung which
has escaped the wreck of that tremendous slaughter, and of
contemporary poetry. It is undoubtedly genuine; and the critics of
Gaelic verse are unanimous in ascribing to it every excellence which
can belong either to alliterative art, or musical excitement. Of the
battle-hymn some splendid specimens have been handed down; and
these are to be regarded with an amount of confidence, from the
apparent ease with which the very long "Incitement to Battle," in the

"Garioch Battle-Storm," as Harlaw is called, was remembered.
Collections of favourite pieces began to be made in writing about the
period of the revival of letters. The researches of the Highland Society
brought to light a miscellany, embracing the poetical labours of two
contemporaries of rank, Sir Duncan Campbell[13] of Glenurchay, and
Lady Isabel Campbell. From this period the poet's art degenerates into a
sort of family chronicle. There were, however, incidents which
deserved a more affecting style of memorial; and this appears in lays
which still command the interest and draw forth the tears of the
Highlander. The story of the persecuted Clan Gregor supplies many
illustrations, such as the oft-chanted _Macgregor na Ruara_,[14] and
the mournful melodies of Janet Campbell.[15] In