ROBERT NICOLL.
Reading edition
One of the most gifted and hopeful of modern Scottish song writers, Robert Nicoll, was born at Little Tulliebeltane, in the parish of Auchtergaven, Perthshire, on the 7th January 1814. Of a family of nine children, he was the second son. His father, who bore the same Christian name, rented a farm at the period of his birth and for five years afterwards, when, involved in an affair of cautionary, he was reduced to the condition of an agricultural labourer. Young Nicoll received the rudiments of his education from his mother, a woman of superior shrewdness and information; subsequently to his seventh year he tended cattle in the summer months, to procure the means of attending the parish school during the other portion of the year. From his childhood fond of reading, books were his constant companions—in the field, on the highway, and during the intervals of leisure in his father's cottage. In his thirteenth year, he wrote verses and became the correspondent of a newspaper. Apprenticed to a grocer and wine-merchant in Perth, and occupied in business from seven o'clock morning till nine o'clock evening, he prosecuted mental culture by abridging the usual hours of rest. At the age of nineteen he communicated a tale to Johnstone's Magazine, an Edinburgh periodical, which was inserted, and attracted towards him the notice of Mr Johnstone, the ingenious proprietor. By this gentleman he was introduced, during a visit he made to the capital, to some men of letters, who subsequently evinced a warm interest in his career.
In 1834, Nicoll opened a small circulating library in Dundee, occupying his spare time in reading and composition, and likewise taking part in public meetings convened for the support of Radical or extreme liberal opinions. To the liberal journals of the town he became a frequent contributor both in prose and verse, and in 1835 appeared as the author of a volume of "Poems and Lyrics." This publication was highly esteemed by his friends, and most favourably received by the press. Abandoning business in Dundee, which had never been prosperous, he meditated proceeding as a literary adventurer to London, but was induced by Mr Tait, his friendly publisher, and some other well-wishers, to remain in Edinburgh till a suitable opening should occur. In the summer of 1836 he was appointed editor of the Leeds Times newspaper, with a salary of £100. The politics of this journal were Radical, and to the exposition and advocacy of these opinions he devoted himself with equal ardour and success. But the unremitting labour of conducting a public journal soon began materially to undermine the energies of a constitution which, never robust, had been already impaired by a course of untiring literary occupation. The excitement of a political contest at Leeds, during a general parliamentary election, completed the physical prostration of the poet; he removed from Leeds to Knaresborough, and from thence to Laverock Bank, near Edinburgh, the residence of his friend Mr Johnstone. His case was hopeless; after lingering a short period in a state of entire prostration, he departed this life in December 1837, in his twenty-fourth year. His remains, attended by a numerous assemblage, were consigned to the churchyard of North Leith.
Possessed of strong poetical genius, Robert Nicoll has attained a conspicuous and honoured niche in the temple of the national minstrelsy. Several of his songs, especially "Bonnie Bessie Lee" and "Ordé Braes," have obtained an equal popularity with the best songs of Burns. Since the period of his death, four different editions of his "Poems" have been called for. The work has latterly been published by the Messrs Blackie of Glasgow in a handsome form, prefaced by an interesting memoir. Nicoll's strain is eminently smooth and simple; and, though many of his lyrics published after his decease had not the benefit of his revision, he never falls into mediocrity. Of extensive sympathies, he portrays the loves, hopes, and fears of the human heart; while he depicts nature only in her loveliness. His sentiments breathe a devoted and simple piety, the index of an unblemished life. In person Nicoll was rather above the middle height, with a slight stoop. His countenance, which was of a sanguine complexion, was thoughtful and pleasing; his eyes were of a deep blue, and his hair dark brown. In society he was modest and unobtrusive, but was firm and uncompromising in the maintenance of his opinions. His political views were founded on the belief that the industrial classes had suffered oppression from the aristocracy. The solace of his hours of leisure were the songs and music of his country. He married shortly prior to his decease, but was not long survived by his widow. A monument to his memory, towards which nearly £100 has lately been subscribed, is about to be erected on the Ordé Braes, in his native parish.
ORDÉ BRAES.
There 's nae hame like the hame o' youth, Nae ither spot sae fair; Nae ither faces look sae kind As the smilin' faces there. An' I ha'e sat by mony streams, Ha'e travell'd mony ways; But the fairest spot on the earth to me Is on bonnie Ordé Braes. An ell-lang wee thing then I ran Wi' the ither neeber bairns, To pu' the hazel's shining nuts, An' to wander 'mang the ferns; An' to feast on the bramble-berries brown, An' gather the glossy slaes, By the burnie's side, an' aye sinsyne I ha'e loved sweet Ordé Braes. The memories o' my father's hame, An' its kindly dwellers a', O' the friends I loved wi' a young heart's love Ere care that heart could thraw, Are twined wi' the stanes o' the silver burn, An' its fairy crooks an' bays, That onward sang 'neath the gowden broom Upon bonnie Ordé Braes. Aince in a day there were happy hames By the bonnie Ordé's side: Nane ken how meikle peace an' love In a straw-roof'd cot can bide. But thae hames are gane, an' the hand o' time The roofless wa's doth raze; Laneness an' sweetness hand in hand Gang ower the Ordé Braes. Oh! an' the sun were shinin' now, An', oh! an' I were there, Wi' twa three friends o' auld langsyne, My wanderin' joy to share. For though on the hearth o' my bairnhood's hame The flock o' the hills doth graze, Some kind hearts live to love me yet Upon bonnie Ordé Braes.
THE MUIR O' GORSE AND BROOM.
I winna bide in your castle ha's, Nor yet in your lofty towers; My heart is sick o' your gloomy hame, An' sick o' your darksome bowers; An' oh! I wish I were far awa' Frae their grandeur an' their gloom, Where the freeborn lintie sings its sang On the Muir o' Gorse an' Broom. Sae weel as I like the healthfu' gale, That blaws fu' kindly there, An' the heather brown, an' the wild blue-bell That wave on the muirland bare; An' the singing birds, an' the humming bees, An' the little lochs that toom Their gushing burns to the distant sea O'er the Muir o' Gorse an' Broom. Oh! if I had a dwallin' there, Biggit laigh by a burnie's side, Where ae aik tree, in the summer time, Wi' its leaves that hame might hide; Oh! I wad rejoice frae day to day, As blithe as a young bridegroom; For dearer than palaces to me Is the Muir o' Gorse an' Broom! In a lanely cot on a muirland wild, My mither nurtured me; O' the meek wild-flowers I playmates made, An' my hame wi' the wandering bee. An', oh! if I were far awa' Frae your grandeur an' your gloom, Wi' them again, an' the bladden gale, On the Muir o' Gorse an' Broom.
THE BONNIE HIELAND HILLS.
Oh! the bonnie Hieland hills, Oh! the bonnie Hieland hills, The bonnie hills o' Scotland O! The bonnie Hieland hills. There are lands on the earth where the vine ever blooms, Where the air that is breathed the sweet orange perfumes; But mair dear is the blast the lane shepherd that chills As it wantons along o'er our ain Hieland hills. Oh! the bonnie Hieland hills. There are rich garden lands wi' their skies ever fair; But o' riches or beauty we mak na our care; Wherever we wander ae vision aye fills Our hearts to the burstin'—our ain Hieland hills. Oh! the bonnie Hieland hills. In our lone and deep valleys fair maidens there are, Though born in the midst o' the elements' war; O sweet are the damsels that sing by our rills, As they dash to the sea frae our ain Hieland hills. Oh! the bonnie Hieland hills. On the moss-cover'd rock wi' their broadswords in hand, To fight for fair freedom, their sons ever stand; A storm-nursed bold spirit each warm bosom fills, That guards frae a' danger our ain Hieland hills. Oh! the bonnie Hieland hills, Oh! the bonnie Hieland hills; The bonnie hills o' Scotland O! The bonnie Hieland hills.
THE BONNIE ROWAN BUSH.
The bonnie rowan bush In yon lane glen, Where the burnie clear doth gush In yon lane glen; My head is white and auld, An' my bluid is thin an' cauld; But I lo'e the bonnie rowan bush In yon lane glen. My Jeanie first I met In yon lane glen, When the grass wi' dew was wet In yon lane glen; The moon was shining sweet, An' our hearts wi' love did beat, By the bonnie, bonnie rowan bush In yon lane glen. Oh! she promised to be mine, In yon lane glen; Her heart she did resign, In yon lane glen; An' mony a happy day Did o'er us pass away, Beside the bonnie rowan bush In yon lane glen. Sax bonnie bairns had we In yon lane glen— Lads an' lassies young an' spree, In yon lane glen; An' a blither family Than ours there cou'dna be, Beside the bonnie rowan bush In yon lane glen. Now my auld wife's gane awa' Frae yon lane glen, An' though summer sweet doth fa' On yon lane glen— To me its beauty's gane, For, alake! I sit alane Beside the bonnie rowan bush In yon lane glen.
BONNIE BESSIE LEE.
Bonnie Bessie Lee had a face fu' o' smiles, And mirth round her ripe lip was aye dancing slee; And light was the footfa', and winsome the wiles, O' the flower o' the parochin, our ain Bessie Lee! Wi' the bairns she would rin, and the school laddies paik, And o'er the broomy braes like a fairy would flee, Till auld hearts grew young again wi' love for her sake— There was life in the blithe blink o' bonnie Bessie Lee! She grat wi' the waefu', and laughed wi' the glad, And light as the wind 'mang the dancers was she; And a tongue that could jeer, too, the little limmer had, Whilk keepit aye her ain side for bonnie Bessie Lee! She could sing like the lintwhite that sports 'mang the whins, An' sweet was her note as the bloom to the bee— It has aft thrilled my heart whaur our wee burnie rins, Where a' thing grew fairer wi' bonnie Bessie Lee.[27] And she whiles had a sweetheart, and sometimes had twa, A limmer o' a lassie; but atween you and me, Her warm wee bit heartie she ne'er threw awa', Though mony a ane had sought it frae bonnie Bessie Lee. But ten years had gane since I gazed on her last— For ten years had parted my auld hame and me— And I said to mysel', as her mither's door I passed, Will I ever get anither kiss frae bonnie Bessie Lee? But Time changes a' thing—the ill-natured loon! Were it ever sae rightly, he 'll no let it be; And I rubbit at my e'en, and I thought I would swoon, How the carle had come roun' about our ain Bessie Lee! The wee laughing lassie was a gudewife grown auld, Twa weans at her apron, and ane on her knee, She was douce too, and wise-like—and wisdom's sae cauld; I would rather hae the ither ane than this Bessie Lee.