No heels to bear him from the op'ning dun No nerves olfact'ry, Mammon's trusty cur, In naked feeling, and in aching pride, He bears the' unbroken blast from ev'ry side: Critics-appall'd I venture on the name, Those cut-throat bandits in the paths of fame : Bloody dissectors, worse than ten Monroes; He hacks to teach, they mangle to expose. His heart by causeless wanton malice wrung, Till fled each hope that once his bosom fir'd, So, by some hedge, the generous steed deceas'd, For half-starv'd snarling curs a dainty feast; By toil and famine wore to skin and bone, Lies senseless of each tugging bitch's son. O dulness! portion of the truly blest! Calm shelter'd haven of eternal rest! Thy sons ne'er madden in the fierce extremes Not so the idle muses' mad-cap train, Not such the workings of their moon-struck brain; In equanimity they never dwell, By turns in soaring heav'n, or vaulted hell. I dread thee, fate, relentless and severe, With all a poet's, husband's, father's fear! Already one strong hold of hope is lost, Glencairn, the truly noble, lies in dust; (Fled, like the sun eclips'd as noon appears, And left us darkling in a world of tears :) O! hear my ardent, grateful, selfish pray'r! Fintra, my other stay, long bless and spare! Thro' a long life his hopes and wishes crown; And bright in cloudless skies his sun go down! May bliss domestic smooth his private path; Give energy to life; and sooth his latest breath, With many a filial tear circling the bed of death!, LAMENT FOR JAMES, EARL OF THE wind blew hollow frae the hills, That way'd o'er Lugar's winding stream: Laden with years and meikle pain, In loud lament bewail'd his lord, Whom death had all untimely ta'en. He lean'd him to an ancient aik, Whose trunk was mould'ring down with years; His locks were bleached white wi' time! His hoary cheek was wet wi' tears! And as he touch'd his trembling harp, And as he tun'd his doleful sang, The winds, lamenting thro' their caves, To echo bore the notes alang. 'Ye scatter'd birds that faintly sing, 'But nocht in all revolving time 'Can gladness bring again to me. "I am a bending aged tree, That long has stood the wind and rain; 'But now has come a cruel blast, And my last hald of earth is gane: Nae leaf o' mine shall greet the spring, Nae simmer sun exalt my bloom; But I maun lie before the storm, And ithers plant them in my room. 'I've seen sae mony change of years, 'I bear alane my lade o' care, 'Lie a' that would my sorrows share. And last (the sun of a' my griefs!) " My noble master lies in clay; "The flow'r amang our barons bold, 'His country's pride, his country's stay : In weary being now I pine, For a' the life of life is dead, 'And hope has left my aged ken, 'On forward wing for ever fled. 'Awake thy last sad voice, my harp! Then sleep in silence evermair! 'Thou brought from fortune's mirkest gloom. 'In poverty's low barren vale, Thick mists, obscure, involv'd me round; 'Though oft I turn'd the wistful eye, 'Nae ray of fame was to be found: Thou found'st me, like the morning sun "That melts the fogs in limpid air, "The friendless bard and rustic song, 'Became alike thy fostering care. O! why has worth so short a date? While villains ripen grey with time! 'Must thou, the noble, gen'rous, great, Fall in bold manhood's hardy prime ! Why did I live to see that day? 6 A day to me so full of woe! 'O! had I met the mortal shaft 'Which laid my benefactor low! 'The bridegroom may forget the bride That smiles sae sweetly on her knee; 'But I'll remember thee, Glencairn, 'And a' that thou hast done for me!' |