GEORGE DONALD.
George Donald was born at Glasgow on the 19th January 1800. His parents being in circumstances of indigence, he was sent to labour in a factory so early as his eighth year. A limited attendance at school he supplemented by devoting his intervals of toil to self-instruction. He began to contribute verses to the public journals in his eighteenth year, and soon after composed a series of poems, entitled "Lays of the Covenanters," which appeared in one of the Glasgow newspapers. Of extreme political opinions, he upheld his peculiar views in a series of satirical compositions both in prose and verse, which, by leading dissolute persons to seek his society, proved the commencement of a most unfortunate career. Habits of irregularity were contracted; he ceased to engage in the duties of his calling: and leaving his wife and family of young children without any means of support, he became a reckless wanderer. He afterwards emigrated to the United States, but at the expiry of sixteen months re-appeared in Glasgow. He now became steady; and joining the Total Abstinence Society, advocated the cause of sobriety in a number of temperance songs. Renouncing his pledge, he soon returned to his former habits. He proceeded to Ireland, where he supported himself as a public reciter of popular Scottish ballads. He contributed to the Banner of Ulster a narrative of his experiences in America; and published at Belfast, in a separate volume, his "Lays of the Covenanters," two abridged editions of which were subsequently printed and circulated in Glasgow. Returning to his native city, he was fortunate in receiving the kindly patronage of Dr John Smith of the Examiner newspaper, who paid him a stipulated salary as a contributor. After a period of illness, his death took place at the village of Thornliebank, near Glasgow, on the 7th December 1851. In "The Songs for the Nursery," an interesting little work published by Mr David Robertson of Glasgow in 1846, ten pieces are from his pen. A poem which he composed in his latter years entitled "The Progress of Society, in five books," is still in MS. Amidst all his failings Donald maintained a sense of religion. Evincing a sincere regret for the errors of his life, he died in Christian hope.
THE SPRING TIME O' LIFE.
Air—"O wat ye wha I met yestreen?"
The summer comes wi' rosy wreaths,
And spreads the mead wi' fragrant flowers,
While furthy autumn plenty breathes,
And blessings in abundance showers.
E'en winter, wi' its frost and snaw,
Brings meikle still the heart to cheer,
But there's a season worth them a',
And that's the spring-time o' the year.
In spring the farmer ploughs the field
That yet will wave wi' yellow corn,
In spring the birdie bigs its bield
In foggy bank or budding thorn;
The burn and brae, the hill and dell,
A song of hope are heard to sing,
And summer, autumn, winter, tell,
Wi' joy or grief, the work o' spring.
Now, youth 's the spring-time o' your life,
When seed is sown wi' care and toil,
And hopes are high, and fears are rife,
Lest weeds should rise the braird to spoil.
I 've sown the seed, my bairnies dear,
By precept and example baith,
And may the hand that guides us here
Preserve it frae the spoiler's skaith!
But soon the time may come when you
Shall miss a mother's tender care,
A sinfu' world to wander through,
Wi' a' its stormy strife to share;
Then mind my words, whare'er ye gang,
Let fortune smile or thrawart be,
Ne'er let the tempter lead ye wrang—
If sae ye live, ye'll happy dee.