Blair Collection > Celtic monthly > Volume 4, 1896

THE CELTTC MONTHLY.
187
F. MARY COLQUHOUN.
THERE'S NOTHING IN THE GARISH
DAY.
la^lSlSS F. MARY
^Hl) COLQUHOUN is
— '=i a member of one
of the most ancient aucl
distinguished of our High-
land chieftain families —
the Colquhouus of Colqu-
houn and Luss. Her
father was John Colquhoim,
the famous sportsman, best
known perhaps to Scotsmen as the author of
that ever interesting work " The Moor and the
Loch," her mother being the authoress of
"Rhymes and Chimes." Miss Colquhoun
is therefore cousin to Sir- James Colquhoun,
Bai't, the estimable Chief of the Clan. The
subject of our sketch has distinguished
herself in various spheres, but her tastes
ai-e tlistinctly literary, for she has pub-
lished several works, both in prose and
verse, which show that she is gifted with a
HteraiT genius of no common order. Among
her best known works may be mentioned
"Songs of Chi'istiau Warfare," "A Commimion
Afternoon," "The author of 'The Moor and the
Loch,'" "Ridley Herschel," "St. Kessog and
his Home," etc. Recently she published a
most attractive little volume of Highland stories
entitled "A Bit of the Tartan," which met
with a most flattering reception. Naturally,
Miss Colquhoun is intensely Highland in her
sympathies, and to her there is no j)lace so
romantic or beautiful as the coimtry of her
clan, stretching along "The Bonnie Banks o'
Loch Lomon'." She is deeply learned in the
old time traditions of the district, and has
kindly promised to contribute a series of
sketches to the Celtic (the first of which appears
in this issue), which cannot fail to interest all
members of the clan. It may also be mentioned
that she is bardess to the Clan Colquhoun
Society.
It may be also interesting to add that
Mrs. Walford, the popular novelist, is a sister
of JNIiss Colquhoun, while other two sisters are
married to notable Highlanders, Rev. Dr.
Norman IMaeleod of Inverness, and Mr. CViliu
Macrae, of Colinton, Chief of the Clan ilacrae.
Another sister is wife of the accomplished
Vicar of Cobham, Kent. Her brother. Colonel
Alan J. Colquhoun, R.A., late of the gallant
42nd Royal Highlanders, "Black Watch," and
now Culonel of the Edinburgh Artillery Militia,
is well known, and I understand the Editor
intends giving his portrait and a biographical
sketch, in the next number of the Celtic
Monthly,
Glasgow. Neh, Campbell Colquhoun.
Translation of a Gaelic soiig composed by Kob Donn,
the Reay country bard, "as l)y Kirsty
Brodie," Colonel Mackay's sweetheart, after he
had gone off to the West Indies.
There's nothing in the garish day,
Since thou hast gone across the sea,
I fold my heart and lay
As treasure hid my love for thee.
Tho' I should call would'st thoii return
From that far land of which 1 hear ?
What tho' my love Uke fire doth burn,
None sees me shed the silent tear.
None sees me shed the silent tear,
For love and theft are close allies.
And none but thee shall know how dear
The passion burns that purities.
Return, return to me from far.
Lest poison in thy chalice hide,
Lest that the sun thy beauty mar.
Lest other love thy heart divide.
Lest other love thy heart divide,
The very thought is bitter woe.
For life and love go side by side —
How could 1 live if it were so '.
Then go my thoughts across the sea,
I ask of him such love who wakes
To guard and quicken thine for me,
And keep us for our true love's sake.
Late of Durness. RoBINA FiNDLATEU.
DUNSTAFFNAGE CASTLE,
LOCH ETIVE.
In lonely grandeur frowns the ancient keep,
Around its roofless towers the wild wind sings :
Upon the shore the loch's blue waters sleep,
Or lashed bj' winter storms to fiu-y, flings
Its foam aloft, — o'erhead the eagles sweep
Majestic, sailing slow on wide spread wings.
Orim sentinel, spared from the historic past
Unvanquished, faithful through the countless
years,
Through changing dynasties, whose records vast
Were written on its stones in blood and tears.
When might was right, — when war and hate held
fast
In iron grip that knew not ruth or fears.
How many moons have silvered Lora's tide ?
How many sunsets flushed the eternal snows
On mountain heights, since in theu- rugged pride
The massive walls of the great fortress rose /
Since the wild slogan rang, and side by side
The clansmen torrent-like swept down their foes.
Those days of power are gone! — why slupuld we
wail /
Or wake the echoes of this solitude
With vain regrets ! — the Sassenach and Gael
Have buried with the past each bitter feud.
Let dark oblivion drop a softening veil,
Even as the ivy hides time's havoc rude.
Janet A. M'Culloch.