1
10
4
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Text
No. 1.
Bon-Accord Rhymes and Ballads.
A BRIG TO TORRY.
Aberdeen:
GEORGE MIDDLETON, SKENE SQUARE.
1876.
��A
B R I G
T O
T O R R Y .
This sad disaster by the boat
Has raised the question often fought:
The cry is up, and so it ought—
We'll hae a Brig to Torry !
And but for party-faction plots,
That cast on man's deeds many blots,
We'd pass'd by brig, and no by boats,
Langsyne across to Torry,
Now, party faction cease for once,
Nor let us lose the present chance,
The money all at once advance,
And build the Brig to Torry.
Think not of plotting, selfish men,
Whose sordid wish is all for gain ;
Whose only care is but their ain.
And no a Brig to Torry.
A Company has offer made—
Four thousand pounds this scheme to aid ;
Some say that they would well be paid
By this new Brig to Torry.
�4
And little doubt they've reckon'd weel,
To by this bargain hae a " feel ";
Fairplay even to the very de'il,
And to the Lairds o' Torry.
If they have spirit thus to stir,
And push their schemes ahead wi' virr,
And round the city make it whir—
Come, gae's a Brig to Torry !
We'r a' affected by this shock,
We feel it keen, nor at it mock,
And say, " Come, let us all now yoke
And build a Brig to Torry."
To Balnagask we look for aid;
On a' the lairds we'll make a raid
Whose tenants o'er this brig will trade
Between our town and Torry.
But if they do not come like men,
To help according to their gain,
We'll treat them aye wi' great disdain,
A t Aberdeen and Torry.
The Baker Lairds had well take heed,
Kincorth we know is their's by deed,
The thousands here who eat their bread,
Say, " mind our Brig to Torry,"
�5
And who is great, so far's we ken,
But generous-hearted, honest men,
To all good things who say, " Amen,"
And great success to Torry.
And what is wealth to laird or king,
If man's respect it does not bring,
So freely give, and that's the thing
To bring respect at Torry.
But greedy, grasping, selfish sots,
Who keep their pennies, pounds, and groats,
They're little better than the stots—
Just drown them a' at Torry.
When river Dee they did divert,
To build the brig they had nae heart,
But for that blunder now we'll smart—
A dearer Brig to Torry.
Had then the piers erected been,
Much cheaper had the work been deen.
Before the river e'er was seen,
In its new course at Torry.
But wha's to blame, I winna say't,
Just build the brig and frankly pay't,
Nor raise again our party hate,
To damn the Brig to Torry.
�And Torry Farm I'll only name,
To state the case would raise a flame
That Dee itself could never tame,
'Twould blaze the Brig to Torry.
So let us quench each party word,
True to the name of Bon-Accord,
To quarrel now we can't afford,
We want a Brig to Torry.
Our present Council offers well,
And what's their duty seem to feel,
Four thousand pounds they out will deal,
To build a Brig to Torry.
Twelve thousand pounds the brig will cost,
Just raise the sum, nor time be lost,
The Council then must do their most
To build the Brig to Torry,
This brig, a handsome brig maun be.
Not to disgrace our bonnie Dee,
A something to let strangers see,
When gaun across to Torry.
When Jamieson, our worthy Pro',
Was Dean of Guild, some years ago,
The Progress Party, then the go,
Tormented him 'bout Torry.
�7
No more he is the worthy Dean,
But Provost now of Aberdeen ;
He'll show them progress wi' a steen,
And build the Brig to Tony.
And when this Brig at last we get,
And that must be no distant date.
Then we will fear no tide nor spate
When gaun across to T o n y .
But, Provost man, that is not all
The projects you have at your call,
So keep your foot now at the ball,
But still remember Tony.
The Carriage Drive from Market Street
To Bridge of Dee you must complete;
Push 0n, and let us shortly see't
And a bonny Brig to Tony.
Next Rosemount district keep in view,
It wants accesses one or two ;
'T would be a boon to not a few,
As well's a Brig to Tony.
But Provost, Sir, I would not dare,
To name what all your projects were,
But, pardon me, I have a care
About a Brig to Tony.
�8
Now Torry men just cock your cap,
We'll
yet bridge o'er the watery gap,
Then back and fore we'll safely stap
Between our town and Torry.
Nae mair on pleasure days we'll see,
And mourn our friends drown'd in the Dee,
Such sad disaster cannot be
When we've a Brig to Torry.
Our lads and lasses then might gang
Wi' safety out the rocks amang,
To gather dulse, or sing a sang,
On beach or braes at Torry.
Oh ! had this brig but biggit been,
This last disaster none had seen,
A sair, sair heart to mony ane—
They'll aye remember Torry.
But what is past we canna mend,
Yet a sad lesson it does send,
To present duty let's attend,
And build the Brig to Torry.
Then strike the iron while 'tis hot,
Delays are dangerous, trust them not,
Or all our plans will come to naught,
As well's a Brig to Torry.
�
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Title
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A brig to Torry
Subject
The topic of the resource
Ballads and songs
Chapbooks - Scotland - Aberdeen
Date
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1876
Language
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English
Type
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ballad
Identifier
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<a href="https://ocul-gue.primo.exlibrisgroup.com/permalink/01OCUL_GUE/mrqn4e/alma9953134483505154">s0255b37</a>
Abstract
A summary of the resource.
This song is a political action piece written to urge the population and politicians of Aberdeen to build a bridge to the district of Torry within the city following a ferry disaster which killed 32 people. Ferries and boats had previously been the only way to access the district after the diversion of the river Dee had cut it off, and, according to the song, dithering between different political parties over the cost of the project had prevented a bridge from being built previously. The ballad names several different districts, politicians, and groups with an interest in building the bridge in an effort to raise the funds for a new bridge to prevent future disasters. This chapbook is part of a collection of chapbooks produced in Aberdeen which have been bound together in this volume.
Extent
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8 pages
Is Referenced By
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National Library of Scotland<a href="National%20Library%20of%20Scotland%20http%3A//www.nls.uk/"> http://www.nls.uk/</a>
Is Part Of
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Chapbook #1 in a bound collection of 17 chapbooks
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Bon-Accord rhymes and ballads ; no.1
Coverage
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Aberdeen, Scotland
Contributor
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Archival and Special Collections, University of Guelph Library, Guelph, Ontario, Canada
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JPEGs and PDF derived from master file, which was scanned from the original book in 24-bit color at 600 dpi in TIFF format using an Epson Expression 10000XL scanner.
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In the public domain; For high quality reproductions, contact Archival & Special Collections, University of Guelph libaspc@uoguelph.ca 519-824-4120 Ext 53413
Publisher
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Aberdeen: George Middleton
Source
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Archival & Special Collections, University of Guelph Library, Guelph, Ontario
# of Woodcuts: 1
Animal: lion(s)
Bib Context: title-page
Chapbook Date: 1871-1880
Chapbook Genre: ballads & songs
Chapbook Publisher - Aberdeen: George Middleton
Heraldry
-
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Text
GROANS
FROM THE
BELIEVERS'
GALLERY
ON THE
RESEATING OF THE "AULD WEST."
Aberdeen:
GEORGE
M I D D L E T O N , SKENE SQUARE.
1874.
��Groans from the Believers' Gallery.
It is a custom, and no doubt you know it,
With every suckling bard and would-be poet,
When brain or heart nears parturition's hour,
T' invoke the aid of Heaven, or some such power,
The Muse or St. John, angel-like or " dowdy,"
To act the part of intellectual " howdy,"
And bring to birth in all the pomp of form,
What in their " num skulls" raised so vast a storm.
Of course I know that in this age of reason,
Such invocation's little short of treason,
Since't has been shown (by reasons rather quizzical),
That such belongs t' th' stage called metaphysical;
And every cobbler that ere swill'd in " swats,"
Has learned from Bradlaugh and their Charles Watts,
That Heaven had never anything to spare,
Of what some folks call providential care.
But as for me, who, born out of season,
Finds faith the basis of all human reason,
I needs must when I'm in poetic plight,
Seek for some guardian soul to keep me right.
�4
Oh shed thy light my darkling page upon,
Thou bard of St. Cecilia, Glorious John !
A spice of wit be pleased to sprinkle on it
(You know there's little 'neath a Scotchman's bonnet),
Of grace and polish add a little share,
My limping lines be thy peculiar care;
For lines will limp when passion is not full,
And the keen edge of wit unused, turns dull:
I ask no guidance into nature's plan,
But rather sing of city life and man.
The big-wigs o' the West in conclave met,
To catch the fore-lock of Time's honour'd pate,
As recent circumstances raised the thought,
That certain alterations might be wrought
Within the Kirk, 0 venerable pile !
To make it more complete and of a style.
Who leads the van but Lawyer " Black-a-vis,"
In truth, I wot, a business man he is,
Straight as a bullet he goes to the mark,
To renovate our old ancestral ark;
Galleries and pulpit, railings, windows too,
Are swept within his comprehensive view
�5
As being out of keeping with the place,
Even tho' the biggin' got a whitewash'd face.
But who is this, of sullen portly mein
?
Big with the fate of Guildry-Fund's I ween,
Pompous as portly, learned—as he looks—
Cramfull of notions garbled from old books ;
In architectural technic, " he's nae blate,"
Echinus, talon, plinth, and stylobate,
He knows a torus from an astragal,
And glibly can give Latin for " brick-wall."
This is the Dean, the Lord Dean, some folks say,
Wha's been at E'nbro' for his F.S.A. !
But where's his Crispin poet, who " sans rogans"
Attempted with him lately to " mix moggans
He'd sing in loftier numbers than I can,
The greatness that belongs to little man ;
MacFlecknoe-like lift up the lauding lays.
And twine around his "stool" the poet's bays.
He is not here, and thus it falls to me
To chronicle the sage buffoonery.
?"
�Who's next, with voice so pleasing, soft, and low,
His nasal feature glorying in a glow
Which sheds a radiance o'er his homely face,
And adds a lustre where it wants a grace ?
" What will it cost?" is all he wants to know—
What will it cost!
Three hundred pounds or so,
To seat the area only of the Church,
And leave the " garret people " i' the lurch.
For't has been said by F.S.A. & Co.,
No vandal hands must to the galleries go,
They're part and parcel of old Gibb's plan—
Perfect! and wont improve by any man.
Quite right, they wont improve—then take them down,
The only frightful boxes in the town :
Dreary and dusty—death to ladies' wares—
Abandon comfort all that sit up stairs !
We all admit they're perfect in their way
If perfect nuisances they mean to say—
Where half the people hear but cannot see,
In very truth " believers''' they must be.
In front the Provost's dismal tester-bed,
Foot thick with dust, holds up its heavy head.
What then ? The same authorities declare
�7
The asthetic glory of the Kirk lies there !
Perchance the father to this flattering thought,
In luring fancy its illusion wrought,
With hopes as thick as midges i' the sun,
Of civic honours that may yet be won,
Hopes that its vacant pillars yet may grace
The stoic stillness of some stupid face.
Full well I know that once outside the kirk,
Into the " press" steps many a stately stirk,
To crush opponents, whom they cannot carry,
By the sheer weight of their vocabulary ;
Some will claim hearing by their strength of cash,
And social status consecrate their trash—
But we plain mortals of the upper-flats
Would reason with you,—Come, pray tell us, what's
Basilica to us, or we to it,
If by perpetuation we're to sit,
Behind the pulpit among dusty timmers,
Where sleep alone relieves us weary sinners ?
We want to hear and see as well as you,
Who sit beneath in easy, cushioned pew,
And all the bunkum you may choose to scrawl,
Of apsis, nave, pilaster, astragal,
Can never justify our seeming doom,
�8
To the perpetual shades of dust and gloom.
Just take a twal-month up 'mang th' believers,
Facts are the chiels that never turn deceivers,
You'd shortly veer your " talkee talkee" round,
Give more of sense, if less of empty sound.
The plan on which we formed our Committee,
Was " I'll claw your back, an' then ye'll claw me" ;
It worked " richt bravely," for the parson smiled,
To see how nicely each his neighbour oiled;
Little was said, but " muckle thocht," that day,
As each moved off, reflecting by the way.
�
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Title
A name given to the resource
Groans from the Believers' gallery on the reseating of the "Auld West"
Subject
The topic of the resource
Religion and Morals
Carrickfergus (Northern Ireland) -- History -- Siege, 1760
Chapbooks - Scotland - Aberdeen
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
1874
Language
A language of the resource
English
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
<a href="https://ocul-gue.primo.exlibrisgroup.com/permalink/01OCUL_GUE/mrqn4e/alma9953134483505154">s0255b37</a>
Coverage
The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant
Aberdeen, Scotland
Extent
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8 pages
Abstract
A summary of the resource.
A diatribe against certain recent rulings and individuals who have been in charge of making decision regarding church reforms, construction, and the movement of seats within the ‘Auld West Kirk’. Certain individuals are lampooned, as are the changes in the congregation, in this invective against the upper class and business-like management of the kirk. This chapbook is part of a collection of chapbooks produced in Aberdeen which have been bound together in this volume.
Is Referenced By
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National Library of Scotland <span><a href="http://www.nls.uk/"><span>http://www.nls.uk/</span></a></span>
Is Part Of
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Chapbook #3 in a bound collection of 17 chapbooks
Contributor
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Archival and Special Collections, University of Guelph Library, Guelph, Ontario, Canada
Format
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JPEGs and PDF derived from master file, which was scanned from the original book in 24-bit color at 600 dpi in TIFF format using an Epson Expression 10000XL scanner.
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In the public domain; For high quality reproductions, contact Archival & Special Collections, University of Guelph libaspc@uoguelph.ca 519-824-4120 Ext 53413
Publisher
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Aberdeen: George Middleton
Source
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Archival & Special Collections, University of Guelph Library, Guelph, Ontario
Type
The nature or genre of the resource
poetry
# of Woodcuts: 0
Chapbook Date: 1871-1880
Chapbook Genre: poetry
Chapbook Publisher - Aberdeen: George Middleton
-
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Title
A name given to the resource
Religion not beyond reason: a reply to the remarks of Alexander G. Burnett, Esq., of Kemnay, on broadchurchism, rationalism, and unitarianism
Subject
The topic of the resource
Religion and Morals
Chapbooks - Scotland - Aberdeen
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
1873
Language
A language of the resource
English
Identifier
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<a href="https://ocul-gue.primo.exlibrisgroup.com/permalink/01OCUL_GUE/mrqn4e/alma9953134483505154">s0255b37</a>
Is Part Of
A related resource in which the described resource is physically or logically included.
Chapbook #11 in a bound collection of 17 chapbooks
Extent
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8 pages
Abstract
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The chapbook is a print edition of a letter originally submitted for publication to the editor of the Aberdeen Free Press in response to a piece written by Mr. Burnett in that newspaper on July 29th. An inscription on the opening page indicates that the letter was not published in the paper as the editor wished to bring the current discussion to a close, so the author decided to publicize his letter himself by printing in the current form. The letter addresses Mr. Burnett’s expressed opinion that Unitarianism leads to Aetheism and damnation, defending instead a rational approach to religion and theology. The letter quite thoroughly addresses Burnett’s criticisms at length and turns his own arguments against him as themselves “superstitious.” This chapbook is part of a collection of chapbooks produced in Aberdeen which have been bound together in this volume.
Contributor
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Archival and Special Collection, University of Guelph Library, Guelph, Ontario, Canada
Format
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JPEGs and PDF derived from master file, which was scanned from the original book in 24-bit color at 600 dpi in TIFF format using an Epson Expression 10000XL scanner.
Rights
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In the public domain; For high quality reproductions, contact Archival & Special Collections, University of Guelph libaspc@uoguelph.ca 519-824-4120 Ext 53413
Publisher
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Aberdeen: George Middleton and Bookseller
Source
A related resource from which the described resource is derived
Archival & Special Collections, University of Guelph Library, Guelph, Ontario
# of Woodcuts: 0
Chapbook Date: 1871-1880
Chapbook Genre: religion & morals
Chapbook Publisher - Aberdeen: George Middleton
-
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PDF Text
Text
THE
HERMIT OF POWIS:
A
BALLAD ROMANCE
Of the Olden Times.
ABERDEEN:
GEORGE
MIDDLETON,
SKENE
SQUARE,
1873.
�THE HERMIT OF POWIS .
THE HERMIT OF POWIS lived in his cell,
And shunned the converse of man ;
His food was the coarsest, his drink was the brook
That near to the Hermitage ran.
He mumbled his prayers, and counted his beads,
And scourged his flesh wi' twine,
In the hope to atone for the sins of the soul
By the body's doll and pine.
And who was the Hermit, and what were his sins,
That merited penance so drear ?—
List ye to the tale of a soothfast bard,
And both shall quickly appear :
The Hermit had stood a noble Earl
In the presence of his King—
Had gaily hunted the boar and the stag,
And fought in the field and the ring.
The Hermit now so withered and grim,
Was an Earl so fair to see,
That there was no' a lady in a' the land
But had sighed at the blink o' his e'e.
But the Earl gave his heart to the fairest maid
In the bounds of Scotland wide—
To the sweet Mary Hay, the flower o' the Don,
And her father's hope and pride.
But her father was no' a belted knight,
But a man of low degree,
And it grieved his heart his daughter's love
For a noble Earl to see.
" There never cam' good o' a lordling's love
For a maid so lowly born ;
He'll win your heart, and break your heart,
And leave you the scath and the scorn,"
�3
" 0 little d'ye ken, my father dear,
This leal Lord's love for me ;
He's won my heart, and he's sought my hand,
And his bride I have sworn to be."
And the Earl so loved this lowly maid,
That he gave her his lordly hand,
And made her mistress of all his castles,
And lady of all his land.
And time ran on till a year had gone,
But never, by night or day,
Was the gallant Leslie absent from
The side of his Mary Hay.
4
The noblemen round might look askance,
Their ladies might scoff and sneer ;
His Mary was all the world to him,
And he to her was as dear.
Till town and country, high and low,
The truth must needs declare,
That never, in palace, castle, or cot,
Had been witnessed a happier pair.
But it fell on a day, a sweet summer's day,
That there came, with white foam o'er,
A steed with a royal messenger,
And this was the message he bore ;
"
Boot ye ! Spur ye ! noble Earl—
Go saddle your steed and ride !
For the English loons, with fire and sword,
Have crossed the border side.
" And need have we of our bravest knights,
And need of their stoutest men,
And stouter or braver than you, Lord Earl,
There's none in our royal ken."
When Mary heard this message read,
Her cheeks grew pale and wan,
But when she saw her Leslie's steed
The tears in torrents ran.
" O, let me gang, my Leslie dear,
Your perils all to share ?
I'll run a foot page by your side,
The battle field I'll dare.
�4
When dangers flash around your head,
I'll cry to heaven to save ;
And if you're wounded in the fight,
My care will cheat the grave."
" That never could be, my darling wife—
But I'll not tarry long,
For numerous are our Scottish bands,
Their hearts are brave and strong.
And soon we'll drive the English loons
Across the border side,
And I'll bring fouth of Southern spoil
To deck my lovely bride. "
" I care no' for pearls, jewels, nor gold,
Nor robes of silken sheen,
I'd rather have you, my Leslie, safe,
Than the splendours of a queen."
Lord Leslie kissed her lips and cheeks,
As pale as the lily flower ;
Then bade her maidens bear her in,
And tend her well in her bower.
But when he rode from his castle door
At the head of his warlike band,
His Mary Hay was the saddest wife
In all the Scottish land.
Our Scottish king his warlike bands
Led forth in gallant order,
And drove the Southern loons, like sheep,
Over the English border.
Then boldly marched on Southern soil
To pay them ill for ill,
And drove the beeves from off their fields,
And the sheep from off the hill.
And when he'd paid the knavish loons
A penny for their plack,
He led his troops with little loss
And mickle plunder back.
And feasted at the Scottish court
For thirty days and three,
The noble lords who in the war
Had borne him company.
�5
And formest in the field of light,
And foremost in the sport,
The brave Earl Leslie bore the palm
O'er all the Scottish court.
The Lady Arabella Stewart,
The daughter of a king,
Tho' her mother did not share a throne
Nor wear a wedding ring,
Cast eyes on this same noble lord
In her royal brother's hall,
And saw him, in face and courtly grace,
The fairest of them all.
And she has gotten her to the king,
Fallen low down on her knee—
"O
royal Lord, 0 brother dear,
An asking grant to me !"
" Rise up ! Rise up ! Our sister dear,
Your asking you shall have,
Be it gold or gear, or house or land,
Or title, that ye crave."
" I crave nor title, house, nor land,
I crave nor gold, nor gear,
But it's all for a lord at your royal court
That I plead in your royal ear.
Lord Leslie he has ensnared my heart,
By arts that I cannot divine ;
And I crave your aid, my sovereign liege,
This witchery to untwine."
And if Lord Leslie has stolen your heart,
This choice to him I'll gie,
Either to offer you marriage to-morrow,
Or else to be hanged on a tree."
Lord Leslie sat and laughed and joked,
In the midst of a merry ring,
When word was brought him to repair
To audience with the King.
" There's a nobleman at our court, Lord Earl,
Partaking our royal cheer,
Who by wicked art has trepanned the heart
Of a lady that we hold dear.
�6
The Lady Arabella Stewart,
The fairest of our fair,
Has lost her heart, and to you Lord Earl,
Deny it if you dare.
But you are a true and a warlike lord,
And this is the choice we'll gie—
Either to marry the lady we've named,
Or swing like a rogue on a tree."
"My Liege ! my Sire ! my Sovereign Lord !
I've used no wizardrie,
And if I have won the heart of this maid,
The prize was unsought by me.
And if my choice be to wed or to hang,
My Sire, I must lose my life,
For how can I wed Lady Arabel Stewart,
And leave a better-loved wife ?"
" A n d who may be this wife, Lord Earl,
That you hold so wondrous dear ;
And how does it chance that the lady's name
Should never have reached our ear ?"
" My wife is not sprung from noble sires—
Her kin are of low degree,
But dear as a queen to her royal spouse
Is the choice of my heart to me."
" A peasant can be but a leman, my Lord,
To one that is nobly born,
And, the word of a King, you'll marry our ward,
Or swing ere a second grey morn !"
The brave Lord Leslie left the King,
A doleful man I ween ;
But a change took place in his comely face
That day ere the fall of e'en.
That day was holden a tournament,
The Queen was taken ill—
And who but the Lady Arabel Stewart
Was chosen her place to fill.
Right well she played her Queenly part,
And charmed the hearts of a';
But for every smile she gave the rest
She gave Lord Leslie twa.
�7
When days had come and days had passed,
Lord Leslie had no' swung,
But for him and the Lady Arabel Stewart,
The wedding bells were rung.
And he has gotten a trusty page
His messages all to bear,
And sent him on to Mary Hay
To break the tidings with care.
To offer her gold, to offer her gear,
To offer her houses or land—
To tell her that she was free to love
And marry a lowlier man.
The news were said, the offers were made,
And the salt tears did no' come ;
But she sat like a statue, or corpse of the dead,
As motionless, paly, and dumb.
She never cast blame on her faithless lord,
Nor uttered one word to displease,
But she drooped her head like a frost-nipt rose,
And faded by slow degrees.
And day by day she withered away,
Till the fell destroyer Death
Laid his skeleton hand on her marble lips,
And checked their quivering breath.
Now word's gone on to Edinburgh town,
And reached Lord Leslie's ear,
That the cold earth lay on the Mary Hay
"Whom he once had valued so dear.
" 0 woe's me now !" Lord Leslie cried,
As he tore his raven hair,
"I've killed the fairest, dearest wife,
That ever breathed Northern air.
Love me, Lady Arabel Stewart!
Well may you love me noo,
For I've blighted the fairest flower of the North,
And all for the sake of you !
Well may ye sigh, Lady Arabel Stewart,
And well may your tears be shed ;
But ye canna bring peace to this perjured heart,
Unless ye bring back the dead !"
�8
Lord Leslie fled away from his home,
And none knew whither he went;
His lands fell in to his next of kin,
And his gold by his lady was spent.
But when years had sped, and his lady was dead,
And his name forgotten 'mongst men,
A Hermit appeared in Powis's grounds,
And made him a sort of a den.
He prayed, and starved, and scourged himself,
Till his lean frame leaner grew,
But at last the curtain dropt on the scene,
And then the truth we knew.
For a scroll was found by the side of the corpse,
And these were the words it bore :
" This is the clay of Leslie the Earl,
Who sinned and suffered so sore."
I've told this tale of the days of old
In a simple, homely strain,
But if it create one thought like this,
It has not been told in vain :
An honest, truthful, rightful course
Is the best for death or time,
For present anguish and future woe
Are the offspring of vice and crime.
Davidson & Smith, Printers, Aberdeen.
�
https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/7c4a4d1a39189bf49f7b28829148ed54.jpg
f4897801388f064dba3d11056cbc35a7
Omeka Image File
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Bit Depth
8
Channels
3
Height
3101
Width
1959
Document
A resource containing textual data. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre text.
Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
A name given to the resource
The hermit of Powis: a ballad romance of the olden times
Subject
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Religion and Morals
Religion and Morals
Chapbooks - Scotland - Aberdeen
Leslie, Alexander, 1582-1661
War
Date
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1873
Format
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JPEGs and PDF derived from master file, which was scanned from the original book in 24-bit color at 600 dpi in TIFF format using an Epson Expression 10000XL scanner.
Language
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English
Identifier
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<a href="https://ocul-gue.primo.exlibrisgroup.com/permalink/01OCUL_GUE/mrqn4e/alma9953134483505154">s0255b37</a>
Coverage
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Edinburgh, Scotland
Powis, Scotland
Extent
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8 pages
Abstract
A summary of the resource.
This chapbook includes a tragic ballad of the Earl of Leslie, who falls in love and marries a young woman of lowly birth. When the King goes to war against the English who are raiding across the border, Leslie attends him and wins honour on the battlefield. But when the king brings back his lords to feast in Edinburgh, the Lady Annabelle Stewart, bastard sister to the king, falls in love with the handsome young lord and begs the king to marry them. Although Leslie insists he cannot marry because he already has a well-loved wife, the king gives him the choice of setting aside his low-born wife in favor of his sister, or hang. Leslie acquiesces and sends word to his wife, who dies of grief. When he hears of her fate, he rages against his wife and disappears. Years later, after his lands and wealth were gone and he had been forgotten, he returns as a hermit to Powis and endures a life of self-imposed penance and asceticism until his death reveals his true story. This chapbook is part of a collection of chapbooks produced in Aberdeen which have been bound together in this volume.
Wikipedia entry on Alexander Leslie: Alexander Leslie, 1st Earl of Leven (1582 – 4 April 1661) was a Scottish soldier in Dutch, Swedish and Scottish service. Born illegitimate and raised as a foster child, he subsequently advanced to the rank of a Dutch captain, a Swedish Field Marshal, and in Scotland became lord general in command of the Covenanters, privy councillor, captain of Edinburgh Castle, Lord Balgonie and Earl of Leven. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alexander_Leslie,_1st_Earl_of_Leven
Is Referenced By
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National Library of Scotland
Is Part Of
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Chapbook #14 in a bound collection of 17 chapbooks
Contributor
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Archival and Special Collections, University of Guelph Library, Guelph, Ontario, Canada
Rights
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In the public domain; For high quality reproductions, contact Archival & Special Collections, University of Guelph libaspc@uoguelph.ca 519-824-4120 Ext 53413
Publisher
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Aberdeen: George Middleton
Source
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Archival & Special Collections, University of Guelph Library, Guelph, Ontario
Type
The nature or genre of the resource
ballads & songs
# of Woodcuts: 0
Chapbook Date: 1871-1880
Chapbook Genre: ballads & songs
Chapbook Publisher - Aberdeen: George Middleton