ARCHY O' KILSPINDIE. Wae worth the heart that can be glad, Our nobles they ha'e sworn an aith, That as lang as the crown was on his head He wad speak to nane o' the Douglas name. An' wasna this a wearifou aith; For the crown frae his head had been tint and gane, Gin the Douglas hand hadna held it on, An' the king frae that day grew dowie and wae, But Jamie was banisht an' Archy baith, It chanced he rode wi' hound and horn But nane was wi' him wad ever compare We maun gi'e him grace o' a' his race, For Kilspindie was trusty aye, and leal. But Lindsay spak' in waefou mood,— And Glencairn, that aye was dowre and stern, When Kilspindie took haud o' the king's bridle reins, He louted low doun on his knee; The king a word he durstna speak, But he looked on him wistfullie. He thocht on days that lang were gane, When he saw their looks his proud heart rose, An' he tried to speak richt hauchtillie;"Gae tak' my bridle frae that auld man's grip; What sorrow gars him haud it sae sickerlie?" An' he spurred his horse wi' gallant speed, As they passed he sat down on a stane in the yett, For a' his gray hair there was nae ither biel; It was dawn when the hunters sounded the horn, The king staid the bindmost o' the train, By Stirlin's walls, sae fair to see; But the sun was far gane doun i' the west When they brittled the deer on Torwood-lee. And wi' jovial din they rode hame to the town, Where Snawdon tower stands dark an' hie; Frae least to best they were plyin' the jest, An' the laugh was gaun round richt merrily: When Murray cried loud, Like a "Wha's yon I see? And for a' his sad and weary pace, The king's heart lap, and he shouted wi' glee,- And he aft looked back to his auld Gray Steel. Archy wi' grief was quite foredone, An' his arm fell weak that was ance like airn, And he sought for some cauld water to drink, But they durstna for that dowre Glencairn. When this was tauld to our gracious king, An' fu' sad at the table he sat him down, An' he spak' but ae word at the dine:"O! I wish my warst fae were but a king, Wi' as cruel counsellours as mine." I HEARD THE EVENING LINNET'S VOICE. I heard the evening linnet's voice the woodland tufts among, Yet sweeter were the tender notes of Isabella's song! So soft into the ear they steal, so soft into the soul, The deep'ning pain of love they soothe, and sorrow's pang control. I look'd upon the pure brook that murmur'd And mingled in the melody that Isabella made; I look'd upon the azure of the deep unclouded sky, Than falls from Isabella's eye the pity-melted tear. All this my fancy prompted, ere a sigh of sorrow prov'd How hopelessly, yet faithfully, and tenderly I lov'd! Yet though bereft of hope I love, still will I love the more, As distance binds the exile's heart to his dear native shore. O! COME WITH ME. O! come with me, for the queen of night The opening blue-bell-Scotland's pride- O love, without thee what were life? WILLIAM TENNANT. BORN 1784-DIED 1848. are said to have been written whilst he was in durance. After sustaining unmerited reproach he was set free, when he returned to his father's roof, and devoted himself in earnest to authorship. The result was "Anster Fair," which was issued from the obscure press of an Anstruther publisher in 1812. Another little production deserves to be mentioned, as show WILLIAM TENNANT, LL. D., an accomplished | The introductory stanzas of "Anster Fair" linguist and poet, was born at Anstruther, in Fifeshire, May 15, 1784. Although born without any personal malformation, in infancy the future poet and professor lost the use of both his feet, and was obliged to move upon crutches for the rest of his life. The lame boy was educated at the burgh school of Anstruther, and was sent afterwards to the University of St. Andrews. In his twentieth yearing the cheerfulness with which he bore the he went to Glasgow, where he was employed as clerk to his brother, a corn-factor in that city. His business was afterwards removed to Anstruther, but proving unsuccessful, he suddenly disappeared, leaving William to endure incarceration as if he had been the real debtor. | calamity of his lameness-"The Anster Con- houselee, who wrote to the publisher for the name of the author, which he said could not long remain concealed; and Lord Jeffrey, in a criticism in the Edinburgh Review, declared the poem one of the most talented and remarkable productions of its kind that had yet appeared. cated. of three dramatic compositions. He was also the author of a Syriac and Chaldee grammar, and of a memoir of Allan Ramsay, published with his works, which he put forth as the pioneer of an edition of the Scottish poets. As a prose writer he never attained any distinction. burgh Literary Journal, none of which, however, exhibit any peculiar excellence. Tennant usually spent his summer months at his own villa of Devongrove, near Dollar, and here he breathed his last, October 15, 1848, in his sixty-fourth year. He contributed numerous articles to the Edin A memoir of his life and As it was not by literature that Tennant meant to maintain himself, he became a schoolmaster, the occupation for which he was eduHis first school was in the parish of Denino, a few miles from St. Andrews. It speaks not a little for his contented spirit and moderate wishes, that he accepted a situation writings by Matthew Foster Conolly appeared yielding but £40 per annum at a time when he had obtained celebrity as a poet, and was known as one of the ablest linguists of the land. to Mrs. Grant of Laggan, will be read with But, for the time being, he was content with interest, as they refer to a new metrical transhis humble cottage, and access to the library lation of the Psalms, in regard to which Tenof St. Andrews College; and here, without any nant had a spirited correspondence with the other teacher than books, he made himself Ettrick Shepherd, afterwards collected and master of the Arabic, Persian, and Syriac issued in a volume by Constable & Co. : languages. His next situation was the more lucrative one of parish schoolmaster at Lass wade, where he remained until January, 1819, when he was in 1861. The following unpublished letters, addressed "Devongrove, Dollar, 28th Sept. 1831. "My dear Mrs. Grant,-I beg leave to send appointed a teacher of the classi- you herewith, according to promise, the cor cal and oriental languages in the newly estab-rected copy of our Scottish version of the lished and richly endowed institution of Dollar. Psalms, of which I spoke to you while I was Tennant's next publication was a poem called in Edinburgh. I should be happy if you took "Papistry Storm'd, or the Dingin' Doun o' the the trouble to glance into it at your leisure Cathedral," followed in 1822 by an epic under moments. You will find the emendations the title of the "Thane of Fife," having for made only on a few passages, and these, I its theme the invasion of the east coast of Fife think, the most objectionable and indefensible by the Danes in the ninth century. The year as relates either to the bad grammar or the after appeared "Cardinal Beaton, a Tragedy false or double rhymes in the Scotticisms to be in five acts," and in 1825 he published another found in our psalmody. I have not ventured poem entitled "John Baliol." None of these to touch any passage which I deemed not in publications met with success, nor did they some respect blameworthy; and very probably add anything to the author's reputation. In you may mark off some few slight passages 1831 the chair of oriental languages in St. which may admit of some gentle healing, but Mary's College, St. Andrews, became vacant, which by me have not been observed, or have and Tennant offered himself as a candidate, not come within that scope of emendation but Dr. Scott of Corstorphine, a rival candi- which I prescribed to myself. If our present date, was preferred. He remained three years version, which is assuredly the best, is ever to longer at Dollar, when the professorship again be at all purified or emended, it should be becoming vacant by the death of Dr. Scott, he done by gentle means and by making the was appointed to it. In this way, by a series smallest possible alterations, so that its present of steps, he ascended from the lowest to one readers and admirers may read and admire on of the highest grades of Scottish academical without being conscious of any violence com1845, was entitled "Hebrew Dramas, founded tracted, and their time-confirmed respect distinction. Tennant's last work, published in mitted-without having their attention dison Incidents in Bible History," and consisted shocked by any modern botches of superfluous VOL. II-D or glaring emendation. Whether I have done | remarks on the attempted emendations of our according to my own design and conception Imuch-revered old Scottish Psalm-version. . . . do not know; but if correction is to be tried at all, assuredly it should procced in this gentle manner. I should be glad not only to have your written opinion so soon as you have perused my attempted corrections, but that you yourself as an amusement (which I found | a delightful one) should try your hand at correcting any false rhyme or return stanza, for instance in Psalms xviii. and xix., or any other you may deem deserving of it. ... "Since I had the pleasure of seeing you I have been bereaved of my good old mother, who died at my house about four weeks ago. She lived with me after my father's death for the space of about three and a half years. She had enjoyed for several years very good health, and we were all happy together. What a blank has been created in our happy household by her departure! It will be a long time ere I become reconciled to it. "The volume of corrected Psalms you will "Attached to this, I beg leave to send you please retain till I revisit Edinburgh, which | a few lines written after her decease,—To her perhaps, if weather be favourable, may be at Spinning-wheel-an exercise in which she Christmas.—I have the honour to be, my dear | took great delight. I was much affected by Mrs. Grant, your very faithful servant, 66 "WM. TENNANT." "Devongrove, Dollar, 15th Dec. 1831. My dear Mrs. Grant,-It was with the utmost pleasure I received your esteemed letter of 28th ult., which I perused with much delight. I am glad indeed to find that you enjoy the same good health in which I left you in September. I shall be now fain to see your the circumstance of her leaving the 'task of flax' unspun. I should be glad if you were pleased with the few stanzas written upon this familiar household subject. "Should I be in Edinburgh at the Christmas holidays, I shall avail myself of that oppor tunity again to enjoy the pleasure of your conversation. And believe me to be at all times, my dear Mrs. Grant, very sincerely your faithful servant, WM. TENNANT." CANTO I. ANSTER FAIR.1 While some of Troy and pettish heroes sing, What time from east, from west, from south, From every hamlet, town, and smoky city, Laird, clown, and beau to Anster Fair came forth The young, the gay, the handsome, and the To try in various sport and game their worth, 1 Allan Cunningham says of this charming poem, written in the ottava rima of the Italians:-" William Tennant, in his very original poem of 'Anster Fair,' gave Frere and Byron more than a hint for 'Whistle And after many a feat, and joke, and banter, Muse, that from top of thine old Greekish hill, view, And on his lips bid bees their sweets distil, And gav'st the chariot that the white swans drew O let me scoop, from thine ethereal rill, Some little palmfuls of the blessed dew, Our themes are like; for he the games extoll'd Craft' and 'Beppo;' nor is it unjust to say that the imitators have not at all equalled the life, the narreté, the ludicrous dashed with the solemn, and the witty with both, which characterize the poet of Dollar."-ED. I see the Ranter with bagpipe on back, As to the fair he rides jocundly on; I sing of sports more worthy to be told, bladder, Along each road that leads to Anster Loan; Compared with marriage-bed of bonnie Maggie I see the suitors, that, deep-sheathed in sack, Lauder? Till the bright gold, bowl'd forth along the grass, Hobble and tumble, bawl and swear, and groan; I see-but fie, thou brainish Muse! what mean These vapourings, and brags of what by thee is seen? Go to!-be cooler, and in order tell To all my good co-townsmen list'ning round, How every merry incident befel, Whereby our loan shall ever be renown'd; Betray'd her to a spouse, and stopp'd the bound- Say first, what elf or fairy could impel ing lass. I hear them buzzing deep within my noddle, Fair Mag, with wit, and wealth, and beauty crown'd, To put her suitors to such waggish test, "Twas on a keen December night; John Frost Drove through mid air his chariot, icy-wheel'd, And from the sky's crisp ceiling star-embost, Whiff'd off the clouds that the pure blue conceal'd; The hornless moon amid her brilliant host Shone, and with silver-sheeted lake and field. "Twas cutting cold; I'm sure each trav'ler's nose Was pinch'd right red that night, and numb'd were all his toes. Not so were Maggie Lauder's toes, as she A young fair lady, wishful of a mate; Like bees that in their hives confus'dly hum and Yet with her teeth held now and then a pick'ng, huddle. How now?-what's this?-my very eyes, I trow, breeze, Her stomach to refresh, the breast-bone of a chicken. She thought upon her suitors, that with love With courtship's every troublesome essay; And other nicknames in love's friv'lous way; While she, though their addresses still she heard, Aud fairies swarming thick as mites in rotten Held back from all her heart, and still no beau cheese. preferr❜d. What, what! quo' Mag, must thus it be my doom |