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Their name, their years, spell'd by th' unletter'd Muse,
The place of fame and elegy supply;
For who, to dumb forgetfulness a prey,
For thee, who, mindful of th' unhonour'd dead,
If, 'chance, by lonely contemplation led,
Haply, some hoary-headed swain may say,
To meet the sun upon the upland lawn.
"There, at the foot of yonder nodding beech,
1 Here, in his first MS., followed this stanza :-
While o'er the heath we hied, our labour done;
Oft as the woodlark piped her farewell song,
With wisful eyes pursue the setting sun."
"Hard by yon wood, now, smiling as in scorn, Mutt'ring his wayward fancies, he would rove; Now drooping, woful, wan, like one forlorn,
Or crazed with care, or cross'd in hopeless love.
"One morn, I miss'd him on th' accustom'd hill, Along the heath, and near his favourite tree; Another came; nor yet beside the rill,
the lawn, nor at the wood was he;
“The next—with dirges due, in sad array,
Slow through the church-way path we saw him borneApproach, and read—for thou canst read-the lay, Graved on the stone beneath yon aged thorn."
Here rests his head upon the lap of earth,
Heaven did a recompense as largely send:
He gave to Misery all he had,—a tear;
He gained from Heaven-'twas all he wish'd-a friend.
1 In the poem, as originally printed, the following beautiful stanza preceded the epitaph :
"There scattered oft, the earliest of the year,
By hands unseen are showers of violets found:
It was afterwards omitted, because he thought it too long a parenthesis
No farther seek his merits to disclose,
Or draw his frailties from their dread abode(There they alike in trembling hope repose!)-The bosom of his Father and his God!
HYMN TO ADVERSITY.
DAUGHTER of Jove, relentless power,
Thou tamer of the human breast,
Whose iron scourge and torturing hour*
With pangs unfelt before, unpitied and alone.
When first thy Sire to send on earth
What sorrow was, thou bad'st her know,
And from her own she learn'd to melt at others' woe
Scared at thy frown terrific, fly
Self-pleasing Folly's idle brood,
Wild Laughter, Noise, and thoughtless Joy,
And leave us leisure to be good.
Light they disperse, and with them go
The summer Friend, the flattering Foe;
By vain Prosperity received
To her they vow their truth, and are again helieved.
Wisdom in sable garb array'd
Immersed in rapturous thought profound,
And Melancholy, silent maid,
With leaden eye, that loves the ground,
And Pity dropping soft the sadly-pleasing tear.
O, gently on thy suppliant's head
Dread Goddess, lay thy chastening hand!
Not in thy Gorgon terrors clad,
Not circled with the vengeful band
(As by the impious thou art seen)
With thundering voice, and threatening mien,
Thy form benign, O Goddess, wear,
Thy milder influence impart,
Thy philosophic train be there
To soften, not to wound my heart. The
generous spark extinct revive, Teach me to love and to forgive, Exact my own defects to scan,
What others are to feel, and know myself a Man.
LOCHABER NO MORE.
FAREWELL to Lochaber! and farewell, my Jean,
Where heartsome with thee I hae mony day been!
For Lochaber no more, Lochaber no more,
These tears that I shed they are a' for my dear,
And no for the dangers attending on war,
Though borne on rough seas to a far bloody shore,
Though hurricanes rise, and rise every wind,
Then glory, my Jeany, maun plead my excuse;