Mary Baldwin College - Bluestocking Yearbook (Staunton, VA)

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18 the; AUGUSTA SEMINARY ANNUAL. Natural Scenery in Scott ' s Poetry. A AMONG AI.I. OUR PICTURES of Scott ' s youth- ful life, there is none more delightful to contem- plate than that of the boy as he lay on the grass-cush- ioned crags of Sandy-Knowe, and, lifting his young eyes with all the light of genius in them, looked abroad over that wonderful landscape, and saw below the windings of the silver Tweed, the gray ruins of Dry burgh, over which the soft light lingered, and nestled among the dark yew trees, and in front the purple summits of Eildon ' s triple height. It is a scene in which all influences of soul and sense mingle, for here is the charm of natural beauty and gran- deur combined with the delicious dreams of a youthful fancy , a heart and brain beating time with the great pulse of Na- ture. Even one of less genius than Scott, thus nutured, might have had Poetic impulse given. By the green hill and clear blue heaven. And these fair first recollections of his dreamy child- hood were, through his life, the most fondly loved of all, and many a time would rise Those crags, that mountain tower Which charmed his fancy ' s wakening hour, And feelings roused in life ' s first day, Glow in the line, and prompt the lay. It is pleasant to think that it was in this loved spot his spirit took its flight, and that the gentle ripple of the Tweed over the pebbles, was almost the last earthly sound that fell upon his dying ear. Keen appreciation of light, colour, and beauty in Na- ture was with Scott always, and many of his descriptions are examples of pure landscape painting. He sees every- thing wih a painter ' s eye, and under his master hand pic- tures, full of grace and of glowing brightness, flash into light and life — pictures so vivid, so wondrous, The whole might seem The scenery of a fairy dream. Invested by the magic of his touch, the exquisite scenery of Lock Katrine has become the Mecca of every traveler ' s pil-

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THK AUGUSTA SEMINARY ANNUAL. 17 If the poet had not had an eye trained by love to know every phase of the outer world we could not have such pic- tures. Even in Burns ' s most passionate poem, Mary iyi Heaven, — he cannot think of the heart-rending parting, without see- ing the Ayr, — O ' er hung with wild woods, thick ' ning green. The flowers that grew by the river bank, and the fra- grance of the hawthorn, are as indelibly impressed upon us as the parting words of his love. It was not in one, but in every poem that Burns showed his love for Nature ; Chaunce loved the Spring, the growing leaves, the flowers and birds; Burns loved all these too, but no more than he did the thunder-storm and the hurricane. The streams that fretted their channels were loved by him; the Wee, modest, crimson-tipped flower, was his pet. His tender heart was moved with compassion for the wounded hare; and at the sight of a field mouse with its nest in ruins, he stops his plow to pity the poor harmless creature exposed to the Winter ' s blast, and grieves that he is unable to help it. The little mouse was no better ofif for his grief, but no doubt that little song protected many another mouse from the same fate, and more than that, it has helped mankind to be better and wiser. There is some- thing very simple and unaffected in the closing verse of this poem where the poet cannot help moralizing, as the mouse ' s fate brings to mind his own, — he says truly and sadly, — Still thou art blessed, compared wi ' me ! The present only toucheth thee; But och ! I backward cast my e ' e, On prospects drear ! And forward though I canna see, I guess and fear. Fannie G. Ogier.

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THK AUGUSTA SEMINARY ANNUAL. 19 grimage. Who docs not desire to stand, as did the Knight of Snowdoun and feast his eyes on the loveliness below, Where j, ' l cam ing with the scltinj sun, One burnished sheet of livinj( } uld, Lock Katrine lay Ixjueath him rolled, In all her lenj h far winding lay With promontory, creek, and bay And islands that, empurpled l)right Floated amid the livelier light, And mountains, that like giants stand To sentinel enchanted land. Or who might not even more love to linger at break of day on the edge of this most picturesque of lakes, and see and feel what Scott has expressed with tender and easy grace : The summer dawns reflected hue, To purple changed Lock Katrine blue. Mildly and soft the western breeze Just kissed the lake, just stirred the trees. And the pleased lake, like maiden coy. Trembled but dimpled not for joy ; The mountain shadows on her breast Were neither broken nor at rest In bright uncertainty they lie. Like future joys to Fancy ' s eye, — The gray mist left the mountain side. The torrent show ' d its glistening pride, — Invisible in flecked sky The lark sent down her revelry. We pause enraptured by the Trossach ' s deepest dell, wrap- ped in the glory of the setting sun, The western waves of ebbing day Rolled o ' er the glen their level way — Each purple peak, each flinty spire Was bathed in flood of living fire, — And creeping shrubs of thousand dyes, Waved in the west- winds summer sighs. ' ' And now ' ' The shades of eve come slowly down , The woods are wrapt in deeper brown. The owl awakens from her dell. The fox is heard upon the fell, and as darkness shrouds the fading scene, we turn silently away, awed by the sight and sounds of the magnificently pictured night.