John Nevay, the bard of Forfar, was born in that town on the 28th of January 1792. He was educated at the schools of his native place, and considerably improved himself in classical learning, at an early age, under the tuition of Mr James Clarke, sometime master of the Burgh School, and the friend and correspondent of Burns. Fond of solitary rambles in the country, he began, while a mere youth, to portray in verse his impressions of the scenery which he was in the habit of surveying. He celebrated the green fields, the lochs and mountains near the scene of his nativity, and was rewarded with the approving smiles of the family circle. Acquiring facility in the production of verses, he was at length induced to venture on a publication. In 1818 he gave to the world a "Pamphlet of Rhymes," which, obtaining a ready sale, induced him to publish a second small collection of verses in 1821. After an interval devoted to mental improvement, he appeared, in 1834, as the author of "The Peasant, a Poem in Nine Cantos, with other Poems," in one volume, 12mo. In the following year he published "The Child of Nature, and other Poems," in a thin duodecimo volume. In 1853 he printed, by subscription, a third volume, entitled "Rosaline's Dream, in Four Duans, and other Poems," which was accompanied with an introductory essay by the Rev. George Gilfillan. His latest production—"The Fountain of the Rock, a Poem"—appeared in a pamphlet form, in 1855. He has repeatedly written prose tales for the periodicals, and has contributed verses to Blackwood's Magazine and the Edinburgh Literary Journal.
From the labour of a long career of honourable industry, John Nevay is now enjoying the pleasures of retirement. He continues to compose verses with undiminished ardour, and has several MS. poems ready for the press. He has also prepared a lengthened autobiography. As a poet, his prevailing themes are the picturesque objects of nature. His lyrical pieces somewhat lack simplicity. His best production—"The Emigrant's Love-letter"—will maintain a place in the national minstrelsy. It was composed during the same week with Motherwell's "Jeanie Morrison," which it so peculiarly resembles both in expression and sentiment.
THE EMIGRANT'S LOVE-LETTER.
My young heart's luve! twal' years ha'e been
A century to me;
I ha'e na seen thy smile, nor heard
Thy voice's melodie.
The mony hardships I ha'e tholed
Sin' I left Larocklea,
I maun na tell, for it would bring
The saut tear in thine e'e.
But I ha'e news, an' happy news,
To tell unto my love—
What I ha'e won, to me mair dear
That it my heart can prove.
Its thochts unchanged, still it is true,
An' surely sae is thine;
Thou never, never canst forget
That twa waur ane langsyne.
The simmer sun blinks on the tarn,
An' on the primrose brae,
Where we, in days o' innocence,
Waur wont to daff an' play;
An' I amang the mossy springs
Wade for the hinny blooms—
To thee the rush tiara wove,
Bedeck'd wi' lily plumes.
When on the ferny knowe we sat,
A happy, happy pair—
Thy comely cheek laid on my knee,
I plaited thy gowden hair.
Oh! then I felt the holiest thocht
That e'er enter'd my mind—
It, Mary, was to be to thee
For ever true an' kind.
Though fair the flowers that bloom around
My dwallin' owre the sea—
Though bricht the streams, an' green the bowers,
They are na sae to me.
I hear the bulbul's mellow leed
Upo' the gorgeous paum—
The sweet cheep o' the feather'd bee
Amang the fields o' baum.
But there are nae auld Scotland's burds,
Sae dear to childhood's days—
The laverock, lintie, shulf, an' yyoite,
That taught us luve's sweet lays.
Gin' thou e'er wauk'st alane to think
On him that's owre the sea,
Their cheerfu' saft luve-lilts will tell
My heart's luve-thochts to thee.
Lat joy be in thy leal, true heart,
An' bricht smile in thine e'e—
The bonnie bark is in the bay,
I 'm coming hame to thee;
I 'm coming hame to thee, Mary,
Wi' mony a pearl fine,
An' I will lay them in thy lap,
For the kiss o' sweet langsyne.
