Were I a Baron proud and high, The sharin't wi' Montgomerie's Peggy. ON A BANK OF FLOWERS. The following song, which occurs in Thomson's Collection, is founded on one by Allan Ramsay. ON a bank of flowers, in a summer day, 'Montgomerie's Peggy,' was my deity for six or eight months. She had been bred (though, as the world says, without any just pretence to it,) in a style of life rather elegant, but, as Vanburgh says in one of his comedies, My d-d star found me out,' there too; for though I began the affair merely in a gaieté de cœur, or to tell the truth, which will scarcely be believed, a vanity of shewing my parts in courtship, particularly my abilities at a billet-doux, which I always piqued myself upon, made me lay siege to her, and as I always do in my foolish gallantries, I had battered myself into a very warm affection for her, she told me one day in a flag of truce that her fortress had been for some time before the rightful property of another; but with the greatest friendship and politeness, she offered me every alliance except actual possession. I found out afterwards that what she told me of a pre-engagement was really true; but it cost me some heart-aches to get rid of the affair. I have even tried to imitate in this extempore thing that irregularity in the rhyme, which, when judiciously done, has When Willie, wand'ring thro' the wood, He gaz'd, he wish'd, he fear'd, he blush'd, Her closed eyes, like weapons sheath'd, Her lips, still as she fragrant breath'd, The springing lilies sweetly prest, He gaz'd, he wish'd, he fear'd, he blush'd, Her robes, light waving in the breeze, Her lovely form, her native ease, such a fine effect on the ear." There can be little doubt that Peggy" was the person alluded to in Burns' autobiographical sketch, which fixes the date of the letters and song to the year 1781, or early in 1782. “ My twenty-third year was to me an important era.-The clouds of misfortune were thick round my father's head; and what was worst of all, he was visibly far gone in a consumption, and to crown my distresses, a belle fille whom I adored, and who had pledged her soul to meet me in the field of matrimony, jilted me with peculiar circumstances of mortification." Burns was scarcely justified in saying she had pledged herself to marry him, or that he was jilted by her. In his last letter to her except one, he earnestly requested her "soon either to put an end to my hopes by a peremptory refusal, or cure me of my fears by a generous consent.' She appears to have complied, by informing him she was engaged to another, and his answer to her refusal was creditable to his feelings : "I ought in good manners to have acknowledged the receipt of your letter before this time, but my heart was so Tumultuous tides his pulses roll, He gaz'd, he wish'd, he fear'd, he blush'd, As flies the partridge from the brake, On fear-inspired wings; So Nelly, starting, half awake, But Willie follow'd-as he should, He vow'd, he pray'd, he found the maid shocked with the contents of it, that I can scarcely yet collect my thoughts so as to write to you on the subject. I will not attempt to describe what I felt on receiving your letter. I read it over and over, again and again; and though it was in the politest language of refusal, still it was peremptory: you were sorry you could not make me a return, but you wish me' what, without you, I never can obtain, you wish me all kind of happiness.' It would be weak and unmanly to say, that without you I never can be happy; but, sure I am that sharing life with you would have given it a relish, that, wanting you, I never can taste. "Your uncommon personal advantages, and your superior good sense, do not so much strike me; these, possibly, in a few instances, may be met with in others; but that amiable goodness, that tender feminine softness, that endearing sweetness of disposition, with all the charming offspring of a warm feeling heart-these I never again expect to meet with in such a degree in this world. All these charming qualities, heightened by an education much beyond anything I have ever met with in any woman I ever dared to approach, have made an impression on my heart that I do not think the world can ever efface. My imagination had fondly flattered itself with a wish, I dare not say it ever reached a O RAGING FORTUNE'S WITHERING BLAST.§ O RAGING fortune's withering blast My stem was fair, my bud was green, hope, that possibly I might one day call you mine. I had formed the most delightful images, and my fancy fondly brooded over them; but now I am wretched for the loss of what I really had no right to expect. I must now think no more of you as a mistress; still I presume to ask to be admitted as a friend. As such I wish to be allowed to wait on you; and as I expect to remove in few days a little farther off, and you, I suppose, will perhaps soon leave this place, I wish to see you or hear from you soon; and if an expression should perhaps escape me rather too warm for friendship, I hope you will pardon it in, my dear Miss (pardon me the dear expression for once)." This song was written towards the end of 1783, when his mind was clouded with melancholy. Under the date of September, 1785, he says, with reference to that gloomy period, 'Twas at the same time I set about composing an air in the old Scotch style. I am not musical scholar enough to point down my tune properly, so it can never see the light, and perhaps 'tis no great matter, but the following were the verses I composed to it. The tune consisted of three parts, so that the above verses just went through the whole air." But luckless fortune's northern storms Laid a' my blossoms low, O But luckless fortune's northern storms EVAN BANKS.* TUNE-SAVOURNA DELISH.' SLOW Spreads the gloom my soul desires, Oh Banks to me for ever dear! And she, in simple beauty drest, Or, where yon grot o'erhangs the tide, *This song occurs in the Musical Museum, p. 516, with Burns' name. A copy of the first verse, in his own hand, with the music, also exists. Burns imagines himself in India. |