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Complete Fictional Works of John Buchan (Illustrated)

Page 811

by John Buchan


  Will steal my saul.

  I kenna if I loe’d the lassie true,

  But this I ken;

  To get a welcome frae her een o’ blue,

  To see again

  Her dimpled cheek, ten ‘ears o’ life I’d spare

  In prison wall.

  The wind that blaws frae yont the mountain muir

  Will steal my saul.

  Ae simmer mom when a’ the lift was clear

  And saft winds sighed,

  Wi’ kilted coats I saw her wanderin’ near

  The bimie’s tide.

  Thinks I, Queen Mary was na half as fair

  In days o’ aul’.

  The wind that blaws frae yont the mountain muir.

  Will steal my saul.

  Sing, lads, and bend the bicker; e’enin’ fa’s —

  My denty doo

  Has sell’t hersel’ for gowd and silken braws

  The weemen loe.

  A feckless laird has bocht her beauty rare,

  Her love, her all.

  The wind that blaws frae yont the mountain muir

  Will steal my saul.

  I watched them as their coach gaed ower the pass

  Wi’blindit een;

  A shilpit carle aside the brawest lass

  That Scotland’s seen.

  Far, far she’s gane, and toom the warld and puir

  Whaur I maun dwal.

  The wind that blaws frae yont the mountain muir

  Will steal my saul.

  A’ day I wander like a restless ghaist

  Ower hill and lea;

  The gun hangs in the spence, the rod’s unused,

  The dowg gangs free.

  At nicht I dream, and O! my dreams are sair,

  My hert’s in thrall.

  The wind that blaws frae yont the mountain muir

  Has stown my saul.

  Loud Gidden spak; “Weel dune! — The convoy’s ower.

  Here we maun pairt, for I’m for Auchenlour.

  Oor forebears, when they set a makkers’ test

  Gied cups and wreaths to him that sang the best.

  Nae drink hae I, thae muirland floo’ers are wauf,

  Sae tak for awms my trustit hazel staff.”

  We cried guid-fairin’ to his massy back,

  And turned intil the road for Haystounslack.

  Aroond the hills and heughs the gloamin’ crap,

  And a braw mune cam ridin’ ower the slap.

  The stirlin’s crooded thick as flees in air,

  An auld blackcock was fly tin’ on the muir.

  Afore the steadin’ cairts were settin’ doun

  Ilk snoddit lassie in her kirk-gaun gown,

  And bauld young lads were swingin’ up the braes,

  Ilk ane wi’ glancin’ een and dancin’taes.

  The fiddles scrapit and atower the din

  The “Floo’ers o’ Embro” soughed oot on the win’.

  Furth frae the ben cam sic a noble reek

  That hungry folk maun snowk but daurna speak; —

  Haggis and tripe, and puddin’s black, and yill,

  And guid saut beef and braxy frae the hill,

  Crisp aiten farles, bannocks and seein’ kail;

  And at the door stood Wat to cry us hail.

  His walie nieves upheld a muckle bowl

  Whase spicy scent was unction to the saul.

  His ladle plowtered in the reamin’ brew,

  And for us three he filled the rummers fou.

  Nae nectar that the auld gods quaffed on hie,

  Nae heather wine wanchancy warlocks prie,

  Nae Well o’ Bethlehem or Siloam’s pule,

  Was ever half as guid as Wattie’s yill.

  Heaven send anither ‘ear that I gang back

  To drink wi’honest folk at Haystounslack!

  The Fishers

  1916

  ‘Tis puirtith sooples heid and hand

  And gars inventions fill the land;

  And dreams come fast to folk that lie

  Wi’ nocht at ween them and the sky.

  Twae collier lads frae near Lasswade,

  Auld skeely fishers, fand their bed

  Ae simmer’s nicht aside the shaw

  Whaur Manor rins by Cademuir Law.

  Dry flowe-moss made them pillows fine,

  And, for a bield to kep the win’,

  A muckle craig owerhung the burn,

  A’ thacked wi’ blaeberry and fern.

  Aside them lay their rods and reels,

  Their flee-books and their auncient creels.

  The pooches o’ their moleskin breeks

  Contained unlawfu’ things like cleeks,

  For folk that fish to fill their wame

  Are no fasteedious at the game.

  The twae aye took their jaunts thegither;

  Geordie was ane and Tam the ither.

  Their chaumer was the mune-bricht sky,

  The siller stream their lullaby.

  When knocks in touns were chappin’ three,

  Tam woke and rubbed a blinkin’ ee.

  It was the ‘oor when troots are boun’

  To gulp the May-flee floatin’ doun,

  Afore the sun is in the glens

  And dim are a’ the heughs and dens.

  Tam

  “Short is the simmer’s daurk, they say,

  But this ane seemed as lang’s the day:

  For siccan dreams as passed my sicht

  I never saw in Januar’ nicht.

  If some auld prophet chiel were here

  I wad hae curious things to speir.”

  Geordie

  “It’s conscience gars the nichtmares rin,

  Sae, Tam my lad, what hae ye dune?”

  Tam

  “Nae ill; my saul is free frae blame,

  Nor hae I wrocht ower hard my wame,

  For last I fed, as ye maun awn,

  On a sma’ troot and pease-meal scone.

  But hear my dream, for aiblins you

  May find a way to riddle’t true....

  I thocht that I was castin’ steady

  At the pule’s tail ay ont the smiddy,

  Wi’ finest gut and sma’est flee,

  For the air was clear and the water wee;

  When sudden wi’ a roust and swish

  I rase a maist enormous fish....

  I struck and heuked the monster shure,

  Guidsakes! to see him loup in air!

  It was nae saumon, na, nor troot;

  To the last yaird my line gaed oot,

  As up the stream the warlock ran

  As wild as Job’s Leviathan.

  I got him stopped below the linn,

  Whaur very near I tummled in,

  Aye prayin’ hard my heuk wad haud;

  And syne he turned a dorty jaud,

  Sulkin’ far doun amang the stanes.

  I tapped the but to stir his banes.

  He warsled here and plowtered there,

  But still I held him ticht and fair,

  The water rinnin’ oxter-hie,

  The sweat aye drippin’ in my ee.

  Sae bit by bit I wysed him richt

  And broke his stieve and fashious micht,

  Till sair fordone he cam to book

  And walloped in a shallow crook.

  I had nae gad, sae doun my wand

  I flang and pinned him on the sand.

  I claucht him in baith airms and peched

  Ashore — he was a michty wecht;

  Nor stopped till I had got him shure

  Amang the threshes on the muir.

  Then, Geordie lad, my een aye rowed

  The beast was made o’ solid gowd! —

  Sic ferlie as was never kenned,

  A’ glitterin’ gowd frae end to end!

  I lauched, I grat, my kep I flang,

  I danced a sprig, I sang a sang.

  And syne I wished that I micht dee

  If wark again was touched by me....
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  Wi’ that I woke; nae fish was there —

  Juist the burnside and empty muir.

  Noo tell me honest, Geordie lad,

  Think ye yon daftlike aith will haud?”

  Geordie

  “Tuts, Tam ye fule, the aith ye sware

  Was like your fish, nae less, nae mair.

  For dreams are nocht but simmer rouk,

  And him that trusts them hunts the gowk....

  It’s time we catched some fish o’ flesh

  Or we will baith gang brekfastless.”

  Sweet Argos

  1916

  When the Almichty took His hand

  Frae shapin’ skies and seas and land,

  Some orra bits left ower He fand,

  Riddled them roun’ —

  A clart o’ stane and wud and sand —

  And made this toun.

  A glaury loan, a tumblin’ kirk,

  Twae glandered mears, a dwaibly stirk,

  Hens, ae auld wife, a wauflike birk —

  That’s whaur I dwal,

  While you are fechtin’ like a Turk

  Ayont Thiepval.

  The weet drips through the bauks abune,

  Ootbye the cundies roar and rin,

  There’s comfort naether oot nor in,

  The wind gangs blather; —

  We maun be michty sunk in sin

  To earn sic wather.

  But, Sandy lad, for you it’s waur,

  You on that muckle Zollem scaur,

  Your lintwhite locks a’ fyled wi’ glaur,

  And hungry — my word!

  While Gairmans dae the best they daur

  To send you skyward....

  ‘Twas late yestreen that we cam doun

  The road that leads frae Morval toun;

  We cam like mice, nae sang nor soun’,

  Nae daff nor jest;

  Like ghaists that trail the midnicht roun’

  We crap to rest.

  For sax weeks hunkerin’ in a hole

  We’d kenned the warst a man can thole —

  Nae skirlin’ dash frae goal to goal

  Yellin’ like wud,

  But the lang stell that wechts the soul

  And tooms the bluid.

  Weel, yestreen we limped alang,

  Me and auld Dave frae Cambuslang,

  And Andra, him that had the gang

  In Tamson’s mills,

  And Linton Bob that wrocht amang

  The Pentland Hills.

  And as we socht oor shauchlin’ way

  At ween the runts o’ Bernafay,

  The mune ayont the darkenin’ brae

  Lichted a gap.

  Bob peched. “Ma God,” I heard him say,

  “The Cauldstaneslap!”

  Syne we won ower the hinmost rig

  Amang the dumps, whaur warm and trig

  The braziers lowe and wee trucks jig

  Frae bing to ree.

  Dave gripped my airm. “It’s fair Coatbrig!”

  He stepped oot free....

  This mom I’m sittin’ on a box,

  Reddin’ an unco pair o’ socks,

  Watchin’ the yaird whaur muckle docks

  And nettles blaw,

  And turks’caps, marygolds and phlox

  Stand in a raw.

  The berry busses hing wi’ weet,

  The smiddy clang comes doun the street,

  A coo is routin’, baimies greet,

  A young cock craws. —

  I shut my een; my traivelled feet

  Were back i’ the Shaws.

  Back twenty year. A tautit wean,

  I heard my granny’s voice complain

  O’bursted buits: I saw the rain

  Rin aff the byre;

  The burn wi’ foamin’ yellow mane

  Roared doun the swire.

  A can o’ worms ae pooch concealed,

  The tither scones weel brooned and jeeled;

  Let eld sit cowerin’ in the beild,

  Youth maun be oot;

  The rain may pour, he’s for the field

  To catch a troot....

  And, Sandy lad, a stand o’joy

  Gaed through my breist. A halflin’s ploy,

  An auld wife’s tale, a baimies toy,

  A lassie’s favour,

  Are things nae war can clean destroy

  Nor kill the savour.

  It’s in sma’ things that greatness lies,

  The simple aye confoonds the wise,

  The towers that ettle at the skies

  Crack, coup and tummle,

  The blather, swalled to unco size,

  Bursts wi’ a rummle....

  Straucht to the Deil oor hainin’s fly;

  A spate can droon the best o’kye:

  The day oor heids we cairry high

  And wanton rarely: —

  The mom in some black sheugh dounbye

  We floonder sairly.

  The breist o’ man is fortune-pruif

  He heeds nor jade nor deil nor cuif,

  If twae-three things the Guid Folk give

  His lot to cheer,

  The sma’ things that oor mortal luve

  Maun aye haud dear.

  What gaurs us fecht? It’s no the law,

  Nor poaliticians in a raw,

  Nor hate o’ folk we never saw; —

  Oot in yon hell

  I’ve killed a wheen - the job wad staw

  Auld Homie’s sel’.

  It’s luve, my man, nae less and nae mair,

  Luve o’ auld freends at kirk and fair,

  Auld-farrant sangs that memories bear

  O’ but and ben,

  Some wee cot-hoose far up the muir

  Or doun the glen.

  And Gairmans are nae doot the same:

  The lad ye’ve stickin’ in the wame

  Fechts no for deevilment or fame,

  But juist for pride

  In his bit dacent canty hame

  By some burnside.

  It’s queer that the Almichty’s plan

  Sud set oot man to fecht wi’ man

  For the same luve — their native lan’,

  And wife and weans.

  It’s queer, but threep the best ye can,

  The truith remains.

  The warld’s a fecht. Frae star to stane

  The hale Creation strives in pain.

  Paiks maun be tholed by ilk alane,

  The cup be drainit,

  If man’s to get the bunemost gain

  That God’s ordainit.

  But luve’s the fire that keeps him gaun,

  Ilk puir forjaskit weariet man.

  Hate sparks like pouther in the pan,

  And pride will flicker,

  But luve will burn till skies are faun,

  Mair clear and siccar.

  And a’ we socht o’ honest worth

  We’ll find again in nobler birth,

  For Heaven itsel’ begins on earth,

  And caps the riggin’

  O’ what in pain and toil and dearth

  We’ve aye been biggin’.

  Nae walth o’ gowden streets for me;

  I ask but that my een sud see

  The auld green hopes, the broomy lea,

  The clear bum’s pules,

  And wander whaur the wind blaws free

  Frae heather hills.

  Sae, Sandy, if it’s written true

  That you and me sud warstle through,

  Wi’ whatna joy we’ll haud the ploo

  And delve the yaird!

  Ten thoosandfauld the mair we’ll loe

  Oor Border swaird!

  But if like ither dacent men

  We’ve looked oor last on Etterick glen

  And some day sune we’ll see the en’

  That brings nae shame,

  We’ll face’t, — for in that ‘oor we’ll ken

  We’re hame, we’re hame.

  On Leave

  1916

&n
bsp; I had auchteen months o’ the war,

  Steel and pouther and reek,

  Fitsore, weary and wauf, —

  Syne I got hame for a week.

  Daft-like I entered the toun,

  I scarcely kenned for my ain.

  I sleepit twae days in my bed,

  The third I buried my wean.

  The wife sat greetin’ at hame,

  While I wandered oot to the hill,

  My hert as cauld as a stane,

  But my heid gaun roond like a mill.

  I wasna the man I had been, —

  Juist a gangrel dozin’ in fits; —

  The pin had faun oot o’ the warld,

  And I doddered amang the bits.

  I clamb to the Lammerlaw

  And sat me doun on the cairn; —

  The best o’my freends were deid,

  And noo I had buried my bairn; —

  The stink o’ gas in my nose,

  The colour o’ bluid in my ee,

  And the bidden’ o’ Hell in my lug

  To curse my Maker and dee.

  But up in that gloamin’hour,

  On the heather and thymy sod,

  Wi’ the sun gaun doun in the Wast

  I made my peace wi’ God....

  I saw a thoosand hills,

  Green and gowd i’ the licht,

  Roond and backit like sheep,

  Huddle into the nicht.

  But I kenned they werna hills,

  But the same as mounds ye see

  Doun by the back o’ the line

  Whaur they bury oor lads that dee.

  They were juist the same as at Loos

  Whaur we happit Andra and Dave.

  There was naething in life but death,

  And a’ the warld was a grave.

  A’ the hills were graves,

  The graves o’ the deid langsyne,

  And somewhere oot in the Wast

  Was the grummlin’ battle-line.

  But up frae the howe o’ the glen

  Came the waft o’ the simmer een.

  The stink gaed oot o’ my nose,

  And I sniffed it, caller and clean.

  The smell o’ the simmer hills,

 

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