The First False Step," which was also well received. In 1859 another continuous poem from his pen appeared entitled "Wedded Love." A large volume of miscellaneous poems, entitled "My Lost Love, &c.," was published by him in 1865; followed in 1867 by "Summer Flowers." The last of his poetical works is "Rowena; or the Poet's Daughter," a poem in blank verse, which appeared in 1871. the same cause in 1681. He was educated first at the neighbouring parish school of Kinnettles, and was afterwards sent to Montrose Academy, where he successfully studied for some years. Being intended by his parents for the Church, he then attended the necessary classes in Edinburgh University; but circumThe versatility of our author's genius stances intervened which completely changed showed itself by his publication in 1875 of his destination, and instead of the Church he The Vale of Strathmore: its Scenes and Lewas consigned to the counting-house. This dis-gends, a large and exhaustive prose work, full appointment in the choice of a profession seems of historical and legendary lore. He is also to have tinged with a kind of unrest the whole the author of several popular songs, amongst of his future life, and to have struck that which may be noticed "The Bonnie Braes o' tender chord which has given a tone of pensive Airlie" and "The Flower of Strathmore," sadness to all his writings. which have taken a high place amongst standard Scotch songs. In 1829, when a mere youth, he aided materially in establishing and conducting the Christian Reporter, the first cheap religious periodical published in Scotland. In this magazine, besides several able Guthrie wrote verses from his earliest years; yet, although assiduously cultivating his poeti cal gifts, and occasionally contributing to magazines and reviews, he did not publish until 1851, and even then his Village Scenes papers in prose, appeared for the first time | torily to discharge until the whole library had many of the earlier effusions of his muse. In 1868 Mr. Guthrie was chosen from amongst a number of candidates to fill the position of principal librarian in the Dundee Public Library, then newly established. The duties of this office he continued satisfac been put into complete and thorough working order, when he retired from its management, receiving from the library committee, as representing the town-council and ratepayers, a handsome recognition of his valuable services. THE UNSEEN. 'Twas on a wild and gusty night, in winter's dreary gloom, I sat in meditation rapt, within my lonesome room, While like a panorama passed the days of love's sweet joy, And all youth's blissful visions bright which cheered me when a boy. The winds let loose, mad shrieking howled, among the leafless trees, Sad from the distance hollow came the murmur of the seas, While on the trembling window-panes wild dashed the sobbing rain, Like a maiden by her lover left in sorrow and in pain. Clear high above the blast arose, like an ancient melody, The silver tones of a well-known voice-"I come, my love, to thee; My broken vows forgive, fain I would come to thee for rest, And pillow soft my weary head upon thy faithful breast." Like summer cloud across the blue, a shadow on my soul Fell dark and heavily, but quick it vanished like a scroll: Yes, freely I forgave, forgot the change she'd wrought in me, And seizing quick the lamp, I cried, "I come, my love, to thee!" The door I opened wide, and blushed to welcome to my hearth, Her to my heart the dearest jewel, most precious gem of earth: Alas! the flickering taper frail, it went out like a spark, And lo! all weeping, left me lone, faint crying in the dark I took the rose-bud from my breast, Then hand clasp'd hand, and lip met lip; O, hazel glades, sweet hazel glades, Oh, cruel fate! why thus our hearts Woes me! I mourn like wounded dove, For ever and for ever! Where'er you be, sweet early love, My blessing with you carry, Oft-times I muse on love's first jɔys, Bowers, glades, and streams, now fain Among you ever tarry, The trysting hour now comes no more THE MINSTREL'S LAY. The winds were whistling loud and shrill, My thoughts were melted into tears, Thus hopeless, weeping like a child, I heard no sound of opening door, Yet there my own loved brother sat, I wonder'd what his words might be! "With hope, dear brother, have I come To guide you 'cross the stormy sea, No longer mourn, weep, weep no more, But come, my brother, come with me. All that you loved on earth have gone, "The world unheeds, nay, mocks your grief; Night's gone; 'tis near the break of day; The voyage is short, the shore soon reachedCome, come, my brother, come away!" I rose, enraptured, to embrace, My all in that bright sunny land. But he was gone! remembrance came; The ghostly warning well I know, I'll welcome glad the break of day: Hush!-listen-full the chorus swells"Come, come, my brother, come away!" FORGET HER! Forget her? mock me not; behold Slow moulder, though unseen; But love, celestial sacred flower, Is ever fresh and green. Forget her? gaze on that bright stream, In storms and summer suns. Forget her! hast thou ever loved? "Twill ripen in the sky. O yes! sad, drench'd in tears on earth, WILLS' BONNIE BRAES. We love but once; in after life, 'Midst sorrows, hopes, and waes, How fondly turns my yearning heart To Wills' bonnie braes! |