The Indiana State sentinel. [volume] (Indianapolis) 1868-1895, 1894-05-16


His description of the evening serv-
ice at the Cotter's is very beautiful and
gives us some idea of the sturdy
ScOtchman's adherence to the religion
of his fathers whom persecution could
not turn aside from their religious be-
lief. Would you not like to join the
C0tuers circle around the ingle nook
Saturday night?
The cheefu' supper done wi serious face
They round the ingle form cirlce wide
The sire turns Ger with patriarchal grace
The big ha-bible ance his fathers pride;
His bonnet rev'rently is laid aside,
His lyart haffets wearing thin an bare;
Those strains that once did sweet in Zion
glide
He walls a portion with judicious care;
And Let US worship GOd!' he says, with
solemn air.
The deeper and richer part Of his
nature was iully awakened when the
Tyre of love was touched by Highland
Mary How eXquisitely and tenderly
he writes of their farwen. Who can read
of their betrothal and their parting with
out tears. How rapidly they must have
fallen as he penned these lines:
Ye banks. and braes and streams around
The castle o. Montgomery,
Green be your woods and fair your flow
crS.
Your waters never drumlie!
There simmer first unfauld her robes,
And there the longest tarry;
For there ! took the last farewell
O my sweet Highland Mary.
But with him her memory is ever
green:
O pale. pale now. those rosy lips
/ aft haze kissed sac f0ndly
And closed for aye the sparkling glance
That dwelt on me sac kindly
And Wondering now in silent dust
The heart that lO'ed me dearly;
But still within my bosom's core
Shall live my Highland Mary.
But it were better, far better, for her
that rest on the star-lit shore" With
the divine gift Of pOesy Burns has for
ever enshrined the river that flows past
her resting place:
How pleasant the banks OF the clear. wind
With green. spreading bushes and flowers
blooming fair
But the bonniest flower on the banks of
Was once a sweet bud on the braes of the
Ayr.
Flow gently sweet Alton! among the
Flow gently. sweet river, the theme of my
lays!
Ny Mary's asleep by thy murmuring
stream.
Flow gently. sweet Alton! disturb not her
dream.
Is there anything more tOUchingly
beautiful than these lines, especially the
last, Flow gently, sweet Alton; dis
turb not her dream" Surely in that
peace DeNOnu Jle grave. where SuICtdSt
and sorrow come not, neither bitter tears
nor anguish of soul, Highland Mary
must be now, with the shining light
of peace upon her brow.
And in that exquisite poem addressed
to Logan Water" while one reads the
lines he can almost imagine that he
sees the tear-stained face Of the bride
as she addresses her plant to the run
ming water.
o. Logan. sweetly didst thou glide
The day / was my whites bride;
And years synsyne haze DER US run,
Like Logan to the simmer sun.
But now thy flOwry banks appear
Like drumlie water, dark and drear,
Far, far frae me and Logan braes.
During the lament for the departed
lover and husband the bride breaks out
in these passionate words of reproach
and calls for revenge upon those in
power. who are the means Of stirring up
strife and warfare:
o woe upon you men o. state
That brethren rouse TO deadly hatei
As We make many a fond heart mourn
Sac may il on your head retuTnl
How can your fiinty hearts enjoy
The widows tear the orphans cry?
But soon may peace bring happy days,
And Willie hame TO Logan braes.
How it must fire every true Scottish
heart when he reads BurnS's Scots,
wha haze wi Wallace Bled." What
martial ardor there is i'm those lines. and
written DN MN VINO was only a member
of the Damfries volunteers
Scots. wha haze wi Wallace bled,
Scots, whom Bruce has often led,
Welcome TO your CORY bed
Or 10 glorious victory.
Wha for. seotla4d's. king and law,
Freedoms sword will strongly draw,
Freeman stand or freeman ia
Caledonia on Wi me-
Lay the proud usurpers lowi
Tyrants fall in every blOwi
Liberty's in every blow
Forward let us do or die
There is one ballad Of good fellow
ship. probably the outcome Of TarbOltOn
and Caledonia club. or Of the Dumfries-
shire and Galloway hunt that is almost
as familiar as Home, Sweet Home"
Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
An never brought TO min?
Should aud acquaintance be forgot,
An days o. lang syne?
For aud lang syne my dear,
For aud lang syne,
Well take a cup o kindness yet
For aud lang syne.
Carlyle, speaking of Burns. says:
His writings were in rustic dialect,
known only to a small province of the
country he lived in. Had he written.
what he did write. in the general
language of England / doubt not ne had
already become universally recognized
as being or capable to be one of our
greatest men. That he should have
tempted so many to penetrate through
the rough husk of that dialect of his,
is proof that there lay something for
from common within it.
He has gained certain recognition.
and is continuing 10 do so over all quar-
tiers of our wide Saxon world; WheresO-
ever a Saxon dialect is spoken it begins
to be understood, by personal inspection
Of this and the other, that one Of the
most considerable Saxon men of the
afp a hxrT-es lnf ire
peasant named Robert Burns. You
would think it strange IL /. called Burns
the most gifted British soul we had in
all that country OF his; and yet / be-
lieve the day is coming when there will
be little danger in saying so. Burns's
gifts expressed in conversation are the
theme of all that ever heard him. jew
eled duchesses in Edinburgh and walters
and ostlers at country inns alike testi-
fy 70 his magical powers. All kinds of
gifts from the gracefulest utterances Of
courtesy to the highest fire of passionate