THE MOODY SEER, A BALLAD. Joanna Baillie Alexander Huber Editor Bodleian Libraries, University of Oxford
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Eighteenth-Century Poetry Archive
Taylor Institution Library St Giles' Oxford OX1 3NA UK info@eighteenthcenturypoetry.org https://www.eighteenthcenturypoetry.org/
Oxford This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License. Baillie, Joanna, 1762-1851. Fugitive Verses. By Joanna Baillie, author of “Dramas on the Passions,“ etc. London Edward Moxon, Dover Street. MDCCCXL. 1840 pp. 168-183.

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THE MOODY SEER , A BALLAD . " THE sun shines in a cloudless sky , The lake is blue and still ; Up , Flora ! on thine errand hie , And climb the eyrie hill ; " And tell my ancient kinsman there To leave his lonely tower , And at our yearly feast to share The merry social hour . " " Oh mother ! do not bid me go ; I scarce can draw my breath , When I see his eyes move to and fro , His lowering brows beneath ; " His moving lips , that give no sound My very spirits quell , When he stares upon the harmless ground As 'twere the mouth of hell . " " Fy , foolish child ! — on such a day Aught ill thou need'st not fear , And thy cousin Malcom will the way With tale or ballad cheer . " The maiden blushed and turned her head , And saw young Malcom near , And she thought no more of scathe or dread , Or the looks of the moody Seer . And now , bound for the mountain hold , The youthful pair are seen , He like a stripling frank and bold , She like a fairy queen . With merry songs and merry talk The long way cheated he , And plucked her blue-bells from the stalk , And blossoms from the tree . Time ( how they wist not ) swiftly ran , Till scarcely half a rood From the opening gate of the gifted man With beating hearts they stood . Then issued from that creaking gate A figure bent and spare , In checkered garb of ancient state , With grizzled , shaggy hair . By motion , look and mien , he seemed Of gentle pedigree , Well struck with years , you might have deemed , But more with misery . He raised his face to the youthful pair , Grammercie ! can it be ? There passeth a glance of pleasure there And a smile of courtesy . " My cousin's daughter near my hold ! Some message kind , I trow . But no , fair maid , I am too old To mix in revels now . " And who is this so gay and young ? — No no ! thou need'st not tell ; His mother is from Garelace sprung , His sire from bold Glenfell . " His mother's smile is on his face , His father's form I see , Those well-knit limbs of active grace , Those feet — it cannot be ! Out out ! mine eyes see falsely ! tossed And drifted by the wind , Some beldame's kerchief hath been lost , And round his brogues hath twined . " Thus muttering low , with voice unsweet , He turned his face aside , And hastily snatched at Malcom's feet , But the close-clutched palm was void . When a person , gifted with the second sight , sees a person who is to die within a year , he perceives the shroud covering his feet ; as the time becomes less distant , it appears to cover his body higher , and if the death is close at hand , it covers his shoulders or his head . In short , the shroud rises gradually higher upon the body as the time for death approaches . " Why gropest thou with thy trembling hand ? Think'st thou my feet are bound ? Let loose thy house-guard , famous Brand , And I'll out-run the hound . " " Ah ! swiftest race is soonest o'er , Like stream of the mountain brook : Go home , and con some sober lore , Betake thee to bead and book . " " Yes , I will pray to Mary mild , And my first request shall be , That from all fancies grim and wild , Thou mayst delivered be . " Then anger tinged the maid's round cheek — " Come , Malcom , come away ! When Hallow-e'en blows chill and bleak , Macvorely will join our play . " " When Hallow-e'en blows bleak and chill An old man's seat prepare , For if life and strength be in him still , Macvorely will be there . " The old man sighed , as down the hill They took their homeward way , And he heard afar so loud and shrill Young Malcom's joyous lay . 'Tis Hallow-e'en in Flora's home , Bright shines the fir-wood flame ; From distant halls and holds are come Maid , youngster , laird and dame . Their friets Friets , superstitious spells . are tried true-love to prove — Friets taught by warlock lore , And mingled lovers gladly move Upon the crowded floor . And flaming nuts are keenly watched By many a youthful eye , And colworts , from the dark mould snatched , Are borne triumphantly . Then gay strathspeys are featly danced To the pibroch's gallant sound , While the sighted man , like one entranced , In the honoured chair is found . But who comes now so buoyantly , In flaunting kirtle dressed , Who snaps her fingers , capers high , And foots it with the best ? She leaps and crosses , wheels and turns , Like mawkin on the lea , Till every kindred bosom burns Such joyous sight to see . Her dark eyes gleamed , and her ribands streamed , And bells and bracelets rung , And the charmed rout raised a joyous shout As her arms aloft she flung . Out spoke a bachelor , Glenore , Of threescore years and ten , And well respected heretofore By prudent , wary men : " O were I now as I have been ( Vain wish ! alas how vain ! ) I would plight my faith to that winsome queen , And with my freedom twain . " But naught cared she for laugh or shout And cheers from every tongue ; She circled in , and she circled out , Through all the yielding throng , Until before the honoured chair With sliding step she came , And dropped a sober curtsey there To the Seer of eldrich fame . But ah ! how different is his face From those so blithe and boon ! Tears down his cheeks the big tears chase , Like thunder-drops in June . " Nay , weep not , kind though hapless Seer ; Forgive my foolish glee , That , flaunting thus in woman's gear , Thought to deceive even thee . " I've danced before thee , vain and proud , In crimson kirtle drest . " " Thou'st danced before me in a shroud , Raised midway to thy breast . " Dull grew the sound of the crowded hall , Yet Malcom danced again , And did for rousing pibrochs call , But pipers piped in vain . Before the early cock had crowed , Withdrawn was every guest ; Ere on high Ben a sun-beam glowed , All were retired to rest . A goodly ship at anchor rides , With freight of British store , And a little boat from her shadow glides , Swift nearing to the shore . And , on that shore , kind hearts and true , Small groups of kinsfolk stand , To bid a much-loved youth adieu , Who quits his native land . There Flora and her mother dear Heave many a heavy sigh , And by them is the moody Seer , With red and lowering eye . " Weep not , dear aunt ! " says the parting wight , " Weep not , my play-mate sweet ! Hope beckons me to fortune bright , And we again shall meet . " And , good Macvorely , send me hence With thy blessing ; on me pour Some muttered spell of sure defence , When wild waves round me roar . " This band that round my neck is tied , Is the gift of a maiden dear , Fenced with thy potent spell beside , What danger need I fear ? " " I see no band around thy neck , But the white shroud gathered high : Yon breakers rage , and a stranded wreck Doth on the dark rocks lie . " A solemn requiem for the dead Is the gift I will give to thee ; O that , to save thee , in thy stead , The same were sung for me ! " Yet still the youth , with parting cheer , Extends to all his hand ; Embraces those who are most dear , And hastens from the land . His form reflected on the wave , As the lessening boat withdrew , Of that joyous youth , so boon and brave , Was their last heart-moving view . In Flora's home the midnight blast Rose with a wailing moan , And all had to their chambers past , And the maiden sat alone . She thought of the seaman's perilous case As the loud gust went and came , And she gazed on the fire with a woeful face And watched the flickering flame . The flickering flame burnt dull and blue , And the icy chill of fear Passed o'er her head ; then well she knew Some ghastly thing was near . She turned her head the room to scan , To wot if aught was there ; And she saw a figure wet and wan Three paces from her chair . Fixed were the eyes of its pallid face , Like those who walk in sleep , And she started up and prayed for grace With a voice suppressed and deep . Then gazing on that face , at length , She knew the features dear ; She spoke , — affection lent her strength , " Malcom , how cam'st thou here ? " " How spirits travel , dear , dear maid ! No living wight may know , But far from hence my corse is laid , The deep green waves below . " " O Malcom say , in this world of care Is there aught I can do for thee ? " " When thou bendest thy knees in humble prayer , My Flora , pray for me ; " And let my kinsfolk know the fate Of one so young and vain . And now farewell , till time's last date , When we shall meet again . " The figure faded from her sight , And the angry tempest fell , And she heard through the stilly air of night A distant passing bell .