Specimens with Memoirs of the Less-known British Poets, Volume 3
General
Specimens with Memoirs of the Less-known British Poets, Volume 3
English poetry
2 Upon the green the virgins wait,
In rosy chaplets gay,
Till Morn unbar her golden gate,
And give the promised May.
Methinks I hear the maids declare,
The promised May, when seen,
Not half so fragrant, half so fair,
As Kate of Aberdeen.
3 Strike up the tabor's boldest notes,
We'll rouse the nodding grove;
The nested birds shall raise their throats,
And hail the maid I love:
And see--the matin lark mistakes,
He quits the tufted green:
Fond bird! 'tis not the morning breaks,
'Tis Kate of Aberdeen.
4 Now lightsome o'er the level mead,
Where midnight fairies rove,
Like them the jocund dance we'll lead,
Or tune the reed to love:
For see the rosy May draws nigh;
She claims a virgin queen!
And hark, the happy shepherds cry,
'Tis Kate of Aberdeen.
ROBERT FERGUSSON.
This unfortunate Scottish bard was born in Edinburgh on the 17th (some
say the 5th) of October 1751. His father, who had been an accountant to
the British Linen Company's Bank, died early, leaving a widow and four
children. Robert spent six years at the grammar schools of Edinburgh and
Dundee, went for a short period to Edinburgh College, and then, having
obtained a bursary, to St Andrews, where he continued till his seven-
teenth year. He was at first designed for the ministry of the Scottish
Church. He distinguished himself at college for his mathematical
knowledge, and became a favourite of Dr Wilkie, Professor of Natural
Philosophy, on whose death he wrote an elegy. He early discovered a
passion for poetry, and collected materials for a tragedy on the subject
of Sir William Wallace, which he never finished. He once thought of
studying medicine, but had neither patience nor funds for the needful
preliminary studies. He went away to reside with a rich uncle, named
John Forbes, in the north, near Aberdeen. This person, however, and poor
Fergusson unfortunately quarrelled; and, after residing some months in
his house, he left it in disgust, and with a few shillings in his pocket
proceeded southwards. He travelled on foot, and such was the effect of
his vexation and fatigue, that when he reached his mother's house he fell
into a severe fit of illness.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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