Upon a small island not far from the head of Loch Lomond, are some remains of an ancient building, which was for several years the abode of a solitary Individual, one of the last survivors of the clan of Macfarlane, once powerful in that neighbourhood. Passing along the shore opposite this island in the year 1814, the Author learned these particulars, and that this person then living there had acquired the appellation of "The Brownie." See _The Brownie's Cell_ (vol. vi. p. 16), to which the following[718] is a sequel.--W. W. "How disappeared he?" Ask the newt and toad; Ask of his fellow men, and they will tell How he was found, cold as an icicle, Under an arch of that forlorn abode; Where he, unpropp'd, and by the gathering flood 5 Of years hemm'd round, had dwelt, prepared to try Privation's worst extremities, and die With no one near save the omnipresent God. Verily so to live was an awful choice-- A choice that wears the aspect of a doom; 10 But in the mould of mercy all is cast For Souls familiar with the eternal Voice; And this forgotten Taper to the last Drove from itself, we trust, all frightful gloom. FOOTNOTES: [718] 1837. following Sonnet is 1835. XVII TO THE PLANET VENUS, AN EVENING STAR COMPOSED AT LOCH LOMOND Though joy attend Thee orient at the birth Of dawn, it cheers the lofty spirit most To watch thy course when Day-light, fled from earth, In the grey sky hath left his lingering Ghost, Perplexed as if between a splendour lost 5 And splendour slowly mustering. Since the Sun, The absolute, the world-absorbing One, Relinquished half his empire to the host Emboldened by thy guidance, holy Star, Holy as princely, who that looks on thee 10 Touching, as now, in thy humility The mountain borders of this seat of care, Can question that thy countenance is bright, Celestial Power, as much with love as light? XVIII BOTHWELL CASTLE (PASSED UNSEEN, ON ACCOUNT OF STORMY WEATHER) [In my Sister's Journal is an account of Bothwell Castle as it appeared to us at that time.--I.F.]