Dr Couper was born in the parish of Sorbie, in Wigtonshire, on the 22d of September 1750. His father rented the farm of Balsier in that parish. With a view towards the ministry in the Scottish Church, he proceeded to the University of Glasgow in 1769; but being deprived of both his parents by death before the completion of the ordinary period of academical study, and his pecuniary means being limited, he quitted the country for America, where he became tutor to a family in Virginia. He now contemplated taking orders in the Episcopal Church, but on the outbreak of the War of Independence in 1776 he returned to Britain without fulfilling this intention. He resumed his studies at Glasgow preparatory to his seeking a surgeon's diploma; and he afterwards established himself as a medical practitioner in Newton-Stewart, a considerable village in his native county. From this place he removed to Fochabers, about the year 1788, on being recommended, by his friend Dr Hamilton, Professor of Anatomy at Glasgow, as physician to the Duke of Gordon. Before entering on this new sphere of practice, he took the degree of M.D. At Fochabers he remained till the year 1806, when he again returned to the south. He died at Wigton on the 18th January 1818. From a MS. Life of Dr Couper, in the possession of a gentleman in Wigton, and communicated to Dr Murray, author of "The Literary History of Galloway," these leading events of Dr Couper's life were first published by Mr Laing, in his "Additional Illustrations to the Scots Musical Museum," vol. iv. p. 513.
Dr Couper published "Poetry, chiefly in the Scottish Language" (Inverness, 1804), 2 vols. 12mo. Among some rubbish, and much tawdry versification, there is occasional power, which, however, is insufficient to compensate for the general inferiority. There are only a few songs, but these are superior to the poems; and those following are not unworthy of a place among the modern national minstrelsy.
KINRARA.
Tune—"Neil Gow."
Red gleams the sun on yon hill-tap,
The dew sits on the gowan;
Deep murmurs through her glens the Spey,
Around Kinrara rowan.
Where art thou, fairest, kindest lass?
Alas! wert thou but near me,
Thy gentle soul, thy melting eye,
Would ever, ever cheer me.
The lav'rock sings among the clouds,
The lambs they sport so cheerie,
And I sit weeping by the birk:
O where art thou, my dearie?
Aft may I meet the morning dew,
Lang greet till I be weary;
Thou canna, winna, gentle maid!
Thou canna be my dearie.
THE SHEELING.
Tune—"The Mucking o' Geordie's Byre."
Oh, grand bounds the deer o'er the mountain,
And smooth skims the hare o'er the plain;
At noon, the cool shade by the fountain
Is sweet to the lass and her swain.
The ev'ning sits down dark and dreary;
Oh, yon 's the loud joys of the ha';
The laird sings his dogs and his dearie—
Oh, he kens na his singin' ava.
But oh, my dear lassie, when wi' thee,
What 's the deer and the maukin to me?
The storm soughin' wild drives me to thee,
And the plaid shelters baith me and thee.
The wild warld then may be reeling,
Pride and riches may lift up their e'e;
My plaid haps us baith in the sheeling—
That 's a' to my lassie and me.
THE EWE-BUGHTS, MARION.[6]
Oh, mind ye the ewe-bughts, my Marion?
It was ther I forgather'd wi' thee;
The sun smiled sweet ower the mountain,
And saft sough'd the leaf on the tree.
Thou wast fair, thou wast bonnie, my Marion,
And lovesome thy rising breast-bane;
The dew sat in gems ower thy ringlets,
By the thorn when we were alane.
There we loved, there thou promised, my Marion,
Thy soul—a' thy beauties were mine;
Crouse we skipt to the ha' i' the gloamin',
But few were my slumbers and thine.
Fell war tore me lang frae thee, Marion,
Lang wat'ry and red was my e'e;
The pride o' the field but inflamed me
To return mair worthy o' thee.
Oh, aye art thou lovely, my Marion,
Thy heart bounds in kindness to me;
And here, oh, here is my bosom,
That languish'd, my Marion, for thee.
