The Celtic Magazine, Vol. 1, No. 1, November 1875

The bards, as we have ever seen,
Liars and flatterers have been;
Boasting, with little cause to glory,
So empty is their upper storey.
Of Clan Macdonald this is one,
Of Allan Mor of Moy the son;
He brought to me a sonsy vessel
To satiate my thirsty whistle.
The poet proved himself unwise
When him he did not eulogise.
The bards—I own it with regret—
Are a pernicious sorry set,
Whate'er they get is soon forgot,
Unless you always wet their throat.

Mr Macpherson had a dairymaid of the name of Flora, whom he described in abusive language in a poem beginning,:—

Flòiri mhùgach, bhòtach, ghlùn-dubh.

He afterwards made amends for the offence he had given her by commending her in very flattering terms. He represents her as a most useful dairymaid, and as a young woman of surpassing beauty, who had many admirers, and, according to his description of her, such were her good qualities, and her personal attractions, that certain persons whom he names, among others the clergyman of the parish, expressed their desire to engage her in their own service. The poet rejects their solicitations, and informs them how unlikely a thing it is that Flora should engage with them, as she was intended for the King:—

Eulogy on Flora

Flòiri shùgach, bhòidheach, shùil-ghorm,
A pòg mar ùbhlan as a' ghàradh,
'N òg bhean, chliùiteach 's còmhnaird' giùlan,
Dh' òlainn dùbailt a deoch-slàinte,
Ge do shiubhail sibh 'n Roinn Eòrpa,
'S na dùthchan mor' an taobh thall dith,
Cha 'n fhaiceadh sibh leithid Flòiri,
Cùl bachlach, glan, òr-bhuidhe na ban-righ.

Maighdean bheul-dearg, foill cha leir dh' i,
'S geal a deud o 'n ceutaich' gàire,
Caoimhneil, beusach, trod neo-bheumach,
'S ro mhaith leigeadh spréidh air àiridh,
Clach-dhatha na h-Alba 's na h-Eirinn,
Nach saltair air feur a h-àicheadh,
Mar dhealt na maidne 'n a h-éirigh,
'S mar aiteal na gréin a dealradh.

A leadan dualach sìos m' a cluasaibh
Chuir gu buaireadh fir a' bhràighe,
Fleasgaich uaisl' a' srì mu 'n ghruagaich,
'N ti tha 'gruaim ris 's truagh a chàramh,
Ach b' annsa leath' cuman 'us buarach,
'S dol do 'n bhuaile mar chaidh h-àrach,
Langanaich cruidh-laoigh m' an cuairt di,
'S binne sud na uaisle chràiteach.

'S gnìomhach, càirdeil, b' fhearr dhomh ràdhainn,
'S glan a h-àbhaist, 's tearc a leithid,
Muime shàr-mhaith nan laogh àluinn,
Im 'us càise théid sud leatha,
Banarach fhortain ghàbhaidh
Nam miosairean làn 's a' chèithe,
Dheanadh i tuilleadh air càraid
'S a phàidheadh dhomh màl Aonghuis Shaw.

An t-àit' am faic sibh 'm bi gibht àraidh
Sùilean chàich bidh 'n sin 'n an luidhe,
Dòmhnull Bàn o 'm mìne Gailig
Bhuin rium làidir as an athar;
Thuirt e, thoir dhomhs' i gu bealltuinn,
Seall an t-earlas tha thu faighinn
Uam-sa, buannachd nan damh Gallda,
No ma 's fearr leat na sin faidhir.

Thuirt Dòmhnull Mac Bheathain 's e 's an éisdeachd,
Nàile, 's fheudar dhomh-sa labhairt,
'S mise 'n t-amadan thar cheud,
A bheireadh cead dh' i 'n déigh a gabhail,
Ach thoir-se nise dhomh féin i,
'S théid nì 'us feudail a' d' lamhaibh,
Gu 'n ruig a 's na tha tilgeadh réigh dhomh
Ann am Banc Dhun-éidinn fathast.

'N uair chual am Ministeir an t-srì
A bha mu 'n rìomhainn thall an amhainn,
Chuir e pìor-bhuic 'us ad shìod' air,
'S chaidh e dìreach orm a dh' fheitheamh,
'S thuirt e, thoir dhomh-s' an ath thìom dhìth,
'S ni mi trì-fillte cho maith thu,
'S ma shearmonaicheas tu féin do 'n sgìreachd
Gheibh thu 'n stìpean 's bean-an-tighe.

Ge pròiseil sibh le 'r n-òr, 's le 'r nì,
Le 'r mòran stìpein, 's le 'r cuid mhnathaibh,
'S fearr leam Flòiri agam fhéin
Na ge do chìt 'iad leis an amhainn,
Dheanainn an còrdadh cho simplidh
'S i dhol cinnteach feadh nan tighean,
Cia mar tha i coltach ribh-se?
'S gur h-e 'n righ tha dol g' a faighinn.

The Mashie, a tributary of the Spey, in the parish of Laggan, runs close by Strathmashie house. It is a small river, but in harvest time, when in flood, it causes considerable damage. The poet takes occasion to censure the Mashie on this account; but he has his pleasant associations in connection with the charming banks of this mountain stream, as expressed in the following stanzas:—

Mathaisith Censured