| “Slide soft, fair Forth, and make a crystal plain; Cut your white locks, and on your foaming face Let not a wrinkle be, when you embrace The boat that earth’s perfections doth contain.” |
The river Ore, on the banks of which he first met his lady-love, became to Drummond the greatest river in the world. In one sonnet he compares the tiny stream with every famous river from the Arno to the Nile; and finds that none of them
“Have ever had so rare a cause of praise.”
Unfortunately, his happiness was of brief duration, for on the very eve of the marriage, the young lady died. Drummond’s grief was intense. One can almost imagine him mournfully gazing down the beautiful glen, which she might have enjoyed with him, and exclaiming—
| “Trees, happier far than I, That have the grace to heave your heads so high, And overlook those plains; Grow till your branches kiss that lofty sky Which her sweet self contains. Then make her know my endless love and pains And how those tears, which from mine eyes do fall Helpt you to rise so tall. Tell her, as once I for her sake loved breath So, for her sake, I now court lingering death.” |
| THE SYCAMORE |
For some years after her death, Euphame was to Drummond what Beatrice was to Dante—the inspirer of all that was good in him. Later in life he married Elizabeth Logan, a lady who was said to resemble Euphame Cunningham, and she became the mother of his five sons and four daughters.
In front of the mansion of Hawthornden is a venerable sycamore, said to be five hundred years old. In the month of January, 1619, according to a favorite and oft-told story, Drummond was sitting beneath this tree, when he saw and recognized the huge form of Ben Jonson, as that rollicking hero sauntered toward him along the private road. Jonson had walked all the way from London to see what could be seen in Scotland, and one of the attractions had been an invitation from Drummond, who was now beginning to be known in England, to spend two or three weeks at his home. As he approached, Drummond arose and greeted him heartily, saying,—
“Welcome, welcome, royal Ben!”