Trip to Muirdrum'
Alex. M. Soutar
'TIS holiday ! released from toil,
seek the haunts where in life's morn
I roamed with joy, ere yet my heart
felt of care the bitter thorn.
The 'iron horse' conveyed me o'er
speed the barren Buddon Sands,
To where Carnoustie, like a bride
in summer vesture' stands.
Here, springing from the 'mettled steed,'
gaze far o'er the silver sea ;
While gentle billows lave the beach,
break in sweetest melody.
Though balmy zephyrs try to woo
feet along the shore to stray,
A stronger voice within my breast
me to turn the other way.
The voice within my fancy wins :
leave the sandy shore behind,
And o'er Carlogie's braes I stray
scenes more genial to my mind.
Eastward upon the slope I see
heavenly watch-tower of Panbride ;
Where, waiting for the final day,
forbears sleep close by its side.
Now past Carlogie woods, I pause :
Muirdrum meets my eager gaze ;
Each object that mine eyes behold
sweet thoughts of former days.
The dear old homes are getting few,
rolling on great changes brings ;
Yet still, as in the days of yore,
each cot the ivy clings.
There, nestled in their flowery plots,
seem inviting me to stay ;
But strangers linger by the door,
northward still I wend my way.
Beneath the beeches' shady boughs
stands the school, where oft in tears
The seeds of knowledge were instilled
brought me joy in after years.
Forth come the little ones to play,
pent-up mirth now bursts amain :
I see them romping round the trees,
fancy I am young again.
Their voices ringing in mine ears,
the road I slowly roam
To yon green spot, where horses graze :
days gone by there stood my home.
But now the iron hand of Time
quite erased it from the earth ;
There's not a single stone remains
of my place of birth.
Yet in imagination I
rear the dear old walls again ;
And cover o'er with cosy thatch
cottar's humble but and ben ;
And place around the cheery hearth
picture of true happiness
Kind parents, with their offspring round,
them to godliness.
Though o'er the battlefield of life
lot has been to roam afar,
The dear old home that graced this spot
aye to me a guiding star.
Musing upon the days now gone,
reach the black woods' shady side,
Where golden-headed furze
spreading fragrance far and wide.
The feathered choristers above
pouring forth their melody ;
And from the blushing flowers I hear
lively hum of honey-bee.
Here, resting on the ancient wall,
lovely landscape can be seen
The lordly mansion of Panmure,
in wreath of varied green.
Enraptured with such fairy scenes,
willingly I 'd longer stay ;
But, looking on 'the face of Time,'
bids me southward wend my way.
Ye haunts of Youth, with feeling heart
bid you all a fond adieu !
Yet, while life's blood pervades my veins,
ever will remember you.