Then to their happy rest they pass; The child sleeps warmly in his bed. To feel, amid the city's jar, The power to feel with others give! Before I have begun to live. [From "Collected Poeins," 1869.] “RICHES WE WISH TO GET, YET REMAIN SPENDThriftS still. ;-(MATTHEW ARNOLD) WE WOULD HAVE HEALTH, AND YET STILL USE OUR BODIES ILL."-MATTHEW ARNOLD. William E. Aytoun. [WILLIAM EDMONSTOUNE AYTOUN was born in Edinburgh in 1813. Having passed through the usual curriculum of study at the University of Edinburgh, he visited Germany, where he completed his education. He was called to the Scottish bar in 1840. He had already distinguished himself by the vivacity, humour, and genial power of his contributions to Blackwood's Magazine; and in 1845 was appointed Professor of Rhetoric and Belles Lettres in his maternal University. His literary services to the Tory party were rewarded in 1852 by the post of Sheriff of Orkney. In conjunction with Mr. Theodore Martin, he wrote the "Ballads of Bon Gaultier," and translated the "Songs and Lyrics" of Goethe. His larger works were "Lays of the Scottish Cavaliers" (1849): “Firmilian, a Spasmodic Tragedy" (1854); the novel of "Norman Sinclair,” and the narrative poem of "Bothwell" (1856). He died in 1867.1 THE EXECUTION OF MONTROSE. [James Graham, first Marquis of Montrose, was one of the most enthu- FOR GREATEST HAS THEIR LABOUR BEEN."-ARNOLD. "E'EN TO THE DULLEST PEASANT STANDING BY, WHO FASTENED STILL ON HIM 20 FOR, LET THE GODS SO SPEED ME, AS I LOVE WILLIAM E. AYTOUN. vigour. But being betrayed into the hands of his enemies by M'Leod of to admiration.] HE morning dawned full darkly, The rain came flashing down, And the jagged streak of the levin-bolt The thunder crashed across the heaven, The fatal hour was come; Yet aye broke in with muffled beat The 'larm of the drum. There was madness on the earth below, And young and old, and rich and poor, Ah, God! that ghastly gibbet! The great, tall, spectral skeleton, Hark! hark! it is the clash of arms- "He is coming! he is coming!" Like a bridegroom from his room Came the hero from his prison To the scaffold and the doom. A WONDERING EYE, HE SEEMED THE MASTER-SPIRIT OF THE LAND."-JOANNA BAILLIE. 64 "METHINKS THAT WE SHOULD HAIL THEE, CHAMPION BRAVE!"-WILLIAM WORDSWORTH. HONOUR, THAT KNOWS THE PATH, AND WILL NOT SWERVE."-WORDSWORTH. THE EXECUTION OF MONTROSE. 21 There was glory on his forehead, More proudly than to die : Though the cheeks of all were wan; He mounted up the scaffold, And he turned him to the crowd; The eye of God shone through: As though the thunder slept within- The grim Geneva ministers With anxious scowl drew near, He would not deign them word nor sign; And veiled his face for Christ's dear grace Beneath the gallows-tree. Then radiant and serene he rose, And cast his cloak away; Of earth and sun and day. A GARLAND FASHIONED OF THE PURE WHITE ROSE."-WORDSWORTH. "WHO NEVER DID TO FORTUNE BEND THE KNEE; WHO SLIGHTED FEAR."-WORDSWORTH, "WITH A CALM DISDAIN, THAT ROSE TO RECONCILE HIM WITH HIS FATE."-BYRON. THE HAUGHTY SPIRIT OF THAT HUMBLE CLAY."-BYRON. WILLIAM E. AYTOUN. A beam of light fell o'er him, As it were the path to heaven. And a stunning thunder-roll; For fear was on every soul. A hush, and then a groan; The work of death was done! [From "The Execution of Montrose," stanzas xiii. to xvii.] "SPIRITS ARE NOT FINELY TOUCHED, BUT TO FINE ISSUES."-SHAKSPEARE. THE BURIAL-MARCH OF DUNDEE. [John Grahame of Claverhouse, Viscount Dundee, remained faithful to IN the heights of Killiecrankie,* From their lair amidst the broom. * Claverhouse was advancing upon Blair-in-Athol, when he was met by the Royal forces near this romantic defile, which has long been famous for its rugged grandeur. 86 THEY CAUSE HIS FAME TO BE THE FURTHER BLOWN."-WITHER. "IT IS NOT THE MERE PUNISHMENT, BUT CAUSE, THAT MAKES A MARTYR."-BEN JONSON. 6. FOND MAN, THAT LOOKS ON EARTH FOR HAPPINESS, THE BURIAL-MARCH OF DUNDEE. 23 Then we belted on our tartans, And our bonnets down we drew, And we proved them to be true; And we cried the gathering-cry, And we swore to do or die! From the bearded warriors rose By the ruined arch and shrine- * A mountain which rises on the south side of the Tummel vale. AND HERE LONG SEEKS WHAT HERE IS NEVER FOUND!"-FLETCHER. "HIS VALOUR IS THE SALT TO HIS OTHER VIRTUES; THEY ARE ALL UNSEASONED WITHOUT IT.”—JONSON. |