No. XLIV. To MR. ROBERT CLEGHORN. Mauchline, 31st March, 1788. YESTERDAY, my dear Sir, as I was riding thro' a track of melancholy, joyless muirs, between Galloway and Ayrshire, it being Sunday, I turned my thoughts to psalms, and hymns, and spiritual songs; and your favourite air Captain Okean, coming at length in my head, I tried these words to it. You will see that the first part of the tune must be repeated*. I am tolerably pleased with these verses; but, as I have only a sketch of the tune, I leave *Here the Bard gives the first stanza of the Chevalier's Lament. E.. leave it with you to try if they suit the measure of the music. I am so harrassed with care and anxiety about this farming project of mine, that my muse has degenerated into the veriest prose wench that ever picked cinders or followed a tinker. When I am fairly got into the routine of business, I shall trouble you with a longer epistle; perhaps with some queries respecting farming; at present, the world sits such a load on my mind, that it has effaced almost every trace of the in me. My very best compliments and good wishes to Mrs. Cleghorn. No. No. XLV. From MR. ROBERT CLEGHORN. Saughton Mills, 27th April, 1788. MY DEAR BROTHER FARMER, I WAS favoured with your very kind letter of the 31st ult. and consider myself greatly obliged to you for your attention in sending me the song to my favourite air, Captain Okean. The words delight me much; they fit the tune to a hair. I wish you would send me a verse or two more and if you have no objection, I would have it in the Jacobite style. Suppose it should be sung after the fatal field of Culloden by the unfortunate Charles. Tenducci personates the lovely Mary Stuart in the song Queen Mary's Lamentation. Why may not not I sing in the person of her great-great-greatgrandson ?* Any * Our Poet took this advice. The whole of this beautiful song, as it was afterwards finished, is below: THE CHEVALIER'S LAMENT. THE small birds rejoice in the green leaves returning, But what can give pleasure, or what can seem fair, No flowers gaily springing, nor birds sweetly singing, Can soothe the sad bosom of joyless despair. The deed that I dar'd could it merit their malice, His right are these hills and his right are these vallies, But 'tis not my sufferings thus wretched, forlorn, Your deeds prov'd so loyal in hot bloody trial, Alas! can I make you no sweeter return! E. Any skill I have in country business you may truly command. Situation, soil, customs of countries, may vary from each other, but Farmer Attention is a good farmer in every place. I beg to hear from you soon. Mrs. Cleghorn joins me in best compliments. I am, in the most comprehensive sense of the word, your very sincere friend, ROBERT CLEGHORN. No. |