ON CAPTAIN MATTHEW HENDERSON, A GENTLEMAN WHO HELD THE PATENT FOR HIS HONOURS IMMEDIATELY FROM ALMIGHTY GOD. "Should the poor be flattered?"-SHAKSPEARE. But now his radiant course is run, For Matthew's course was bright; His soul was like the glorious sun, [Captain Matthew Henderson, a gentleman of very agreeable manners and great pro priety of character, usually lived in Edinburgh, dined constantly at Fortune's Tavern, and was a member of the Capillaire Club, which was composed of all who desired to be thought witty or joyous: he died in 1789: Burns, in a note to the Poem, says, "I loved the man much, and have not flattered his memory." Henderson seems indeed to have been universally liked. "In our travelling party," says Sir James Campbell, of Ardkinglass, “was Matthew Henderson, then (1759) and afterwards well known and much esteemed in the town of Edinburgh; at that time an officer in the twenty-fifth regiment of foot, and like myself on his way to join the army; and I may say with truth, that in the course of a long life I have never known a more estimable character, than Matthew Henderson." Memoirs of Campbell, of Ardkinglass, p. 17.] O DEATH! thou tyrant fell and bloody! The meikle devil wi' a woodie Haurl thee hame to his black smiddie, O'er hurcheon hides, And like stock-fish come o'er his studdie He's gane! he's gane! he's frae us torn, By wood and wild, Where, haply, pity strays forlorn, Frae man exil'd! Ye hills! near neebors o' the starns, Where echo slumbers! Come join, ye Nature's sturdiest bairns, Mourn, ilka grove the cushat kens! Ye haz'lly shaws and briery dens! Or foaming strang, wi' hasty stens, Mourn, little harebells o'er the lea; In scented bow'rs; Ye roses on your thorny tree, The first o' flow'rs. At dawn, when ev'ry grassy blade Ye maukins whiddin thro' the glade, Mourn, ye wee songsters o' the wood; Ye whistling plover; An' mourn, ye whirring paitrick brood!He's gane for ever! Mourn, sooty coots, and speckled teals; Ye fisher herons, watching eels: Circling the lake; Ye bitterns, till the quagmire reels, Rair for his sake. Mourn, clam'ring craiks, at close o'day, Tell thae far warlds, wha lies in clay, Ye houlets, frae your ivy bow'r, In some auld tree, or eldritch tow'r, Sets up her horn, Wail thro' the dreary midnight hour O rivers, forests, hills, and plains! But tales of woe? And frae my een the drapping rains Maun ever flow. Mourn, spring, thou darling of the year! Thou, simmer, while each corny spear Thy gay, green, flow'ry tresses shear Thou, autumn, wi' thy yellow hair, The roaring blast, Wide, o'er the naked world declare The worth we've lost! Mourn him, thou sun, great source of light! Mourn, empress of the silent night! And you, ye twinkling starnies bright, My Matthew mourn! For through your orbs he's ta'en his flight, Ne'er to return. O, Henderson! the man-the brother! Go to your sculptur'd tombs, ye great, But by thy honest turf I'll wait, Thou man of worth! And weep the ae best fellow's fate E'er lay in earth. THE EPITAPH. STOP, passenger!-my story's brief, If thou uncommon merit hast, Yet spurn'd at fortune's door, man, A look of pity hither cast For Matthew was a poor man. If thou a noble sodger art, That passest by this grave, man, There moulders here a gallant heartFor Matthew was a brave man. If thou on men, their works and ways, If thou at friendship's sacred ca' If thou art staunch without a stain, If thou hast wit, and fun, and fire, If ony whiggish whingin sot, To blame poor Matthew dare, man, May dool and sorrow be his lot! For Matthew was a rare man. THE FIVE CARLINS. A SCOTS BALLAD. Tune-"Chevy Chase." This is a local and political Poem composed on the contest between Miller, the younger, of Dalswinton, and Johnstone, of Westerhall, for the representation of the Dumfries and Galloway district of Boroughs. Each town or borough speaks and acts in character: Maggy personates Dumfries; Marjory, Lochmaben; Bess of Solwayside, Annan; Whiskey Jan. Kirkcudbright; and Black Joan, Sanquhar. On the part of Miller, all the Whig interest of the Duke of Queensberry was exerted, and all the Tory interest on the side of the Johnstone: the poet's heart was with the latter. Annan and Lochmaben stood staunch by old names and old affections: after a contest, bitterer than anything of the kind remembered, the Whig interest prevailed.] THERE were five carlins in the south, They fell upon a scheme, To send a lad to London town, To bring them tidings hame. Not only bring them tidings hame, There was Maggy by the banks o' Nith, And blinkin' Bess of Annandale, That dwelt near Solway-side; And Whiskey Jean, that took her gill In Galloway sae wide. And black Joan, frae Crichton-peel, O' gipsy kith an' kin;- To send a lad to London town, And mony a knight, and mony a laird, This errand fain wad gae. |