At different periods Buchan resided in Aberdeen, Edinburgh, and Glasgow. For a short period he owned the small property of Buchanstone, near Dennyloanhead, Stirlingshire, which being sold, he proceeded to Ireland in 1852, where he resided for some time at Strandhill, county of Leitrim. In the early part of 1854, he went to London, with the view of effecting arrangements for the publication of another volume of "Ancient Scottish Ballads;" he was there seized with illness, of which he died on the 19th September of the same year. His remains were interred in the beautiful cemetery of Norwood, near London.
Mr Buchan was justly esteemed as a zealous and industrious collector of the elder Scottish minstrelsy. His labours received the special commendation of Sir Walter Scott, and he was a frequent guest at Abbotsford. He was also honoured with diplomas of membership from some of the leading literary societies of Scotland and England. Two unpublished volumes of his "Ballad Collections" are now in the possession of Dr Charles Mackay of London, and may at a future period be submitted to the public. His son, the Rev. Dr Charles Forbes Buchan, minister of Fordoun, is the author of several theological publications.
THOU GLOOMY FEBERWAR.[41]
Thou cauld gloomy Feberwar,
Oh! gin thou wert awa'!
I 'm wae to hear thy soughin' winds,
I 'm wae to see thy snaw;
For my bonnie, braw, young Hielandman,
The lad I lo'e sae dear,
Has vow'd to come and see me
In the spring o' the year.
A silken ban' he gae me,
To bin' my gowden hair;
A siller brooch and tartan plaid,
A' for his sake to wear;
And oh! my heart was like to break,
(For partin' sorrow 's sair)
As he vow'd to come and see me
In the spring o' the year.
Aft, aft as gloamin' dims the sky,
I wander out alane,
Whare bud the bonnie yellow whins,
Around the trystin' stane;
'Twas there he press'd me to his heart,
And kiss'd awa' the tear,
As he vow'd to come and see me
In the spring o' the year.
Ye gentle breezes, saftly blaw,
And cleed anew the wuds;
Ye laverocks lilt your cheerie sangs,
Amang the fleecy cluds;
Till Feberwar and a' his train,
Affrighted disappear,
I 'll hail wi' you the blithesome change,
The spring-time o' the year.