WILL McN—L’s ELEGY. ____ “He was a man without a clag, His heart was frank without a flaw.” King Jamie the first. RESPONSIVE to the roaring floods, Ye winds howl plaintive thro’
the woods, Thou gloomy sky pour down hale
clouds, His death to wail; For bright as heaven’s
brightest studs, Shin’d Will McN—l. He every selfish thought did
scorn, His warm body in his looks did
burn, Ilk body own’d his kindly turn, An gait
sae leel; A kinder saul
was never born, Than Will McN—l. He ne’er kept up a hidlins
plack To spen’ ahint a comrade’s
back, But on the table gar'd it
whack, Wi’ free guid will. Free as the win’ on
winter-stack, Was Will McN—l. He ne’er could bide a narrow saul, To a’ the social virtues caul’; He wish’d ilk sic a fiery
scaul’, His shins to peel: Nane sic durst herd in fiel’ or
faul’, Wi’ Will McN—l. He ay abhor’d the spaniel art; Ay when he spak’ ’twas
frae the heart. An honest, open, manly part, He ay uphel’, “Guile soud be devel'd i’ the dirt.” Said Will McN—l. He ne’er had greed to gather
gear, Yet rigid kept his credit
clear; He ever was to mis’ry dear, Her
lose she’ll feel: She ay got saxpance, or a tear Frae Will McN—l. In Scotch antiquities he pridet; Auld Hardyknute, he kent wha made it; The Bag-pipe too, he sometimes sey’d it, Pibroch an’ Reel; Our ain auld Language few could read it, Like Will McN—l. In wilyart glens he lik’t to
stray, By fuggie rocks, or castle
grey; Yet ghaist-rid rustics ne’er
did say, “Uncanny chiel’.” They fill’d their horns wi’ usquebae To Will McN—l. He sail’t and trampet mony a
mile, To visit auld I-columb-kill; He clamb the height o’ Jura's isle, Wi’ weary speel, But siccan sights ay pay’t the
toil, Wi’ Will McN—l. He rang’t thro’ Morven’s hills an’ glens, Saw some o’ Ossian’s moss-grown stanes, Whare rest the low-laid heroes’
banes, Deep in the hill; He cruin't a cronach
to their manes, Kind Will McN—l. He was deep read in nature’s
beuk, Explor’d ilk dark misterious
creuk, Kent a’ her laws wi’ antrin leuk, An’ that right weel; But (fate o’ Genius) death soon teuk Aff Will McN—l. O’ ilka rack he kent the ore, He kent the virtues o’ ilk
flow’r, Ilk banefu’ plant he kent it’s
power, An’ warn’t frae ill; A’ nature’s warks few could
explore, Like Will McN—l. He kent a’ creatures clute an’
tail, Down frae the lion to the
snail, Up frae the menon to the whale, An’ kraken eel, Scarce win could tell their
gaits sae weel, As Will McN—l. Nor past he ocht thing slightly
by, But with keen scrutinizing eye, He to its inmaist bore would
pry, Wi
wond’rous skill; An’ teaching ithers ay gae joy To Will McN—l. He kent auld Archimedes gait, What way he burnt the Roman fleet, “ ’Twas by the rays’ reflected heat, Frae speculum steel; “For bare refraction ne’er
could do’t.” Said Will McN—l. Yet fame his praise did never
rair it, For poortith’s weeds obscur’d
his merit, Forby, he had a bashfu’ spirit, That sham’t to tell His worth or wants, let envy
spare it To Will McN—l. O Barra,* thou wast sair to blame! I here record it to thy shame, Thou luit the brightest o’ thy
name Unheaded steal, Thro’ murky life, to his lang hame, Poor Will McN—l! He ne’er did wrang to livin’
creature, For ill, WILL hadna't in his nature, A warm kind heart his leading
feature, His main-spring wheel, Ilk virtue grew to noble
stature In
Will McN—l. There’s no ae yin that ever
kent him, But wi’ their tears will lang lament him, He hasn’ left his match ahint
him, At hame or fiel’, His worth lang on our minds will prent him Kind Will
McN—l. *The Laird of Barra, Chief of the McNiel Clan. But close my sang, my hamert
lays, Are far unfit to speak his
praise; Our happy nights, our happy
days, Fareweel, fareweel! Now dowie mute—tears speak our
waes For Will McN—l! THE CONTRARY Get up my muse an’ sound thy chanter, Nor langer
wi’ our feelings saunter, Ilk true blue Scot get
up an’ canter; He’s hale an’ weel! An’ lang
may fate keep aff mishanter, Frae Will McN—l. |