English

Heroic virtue deigns for to engross
My muse, to keep the good in memory:
Then it shall be of famous L OCKHART R OSS ,
When his name gilds, my strains can never die.

H OWARD and Drake did bless E LIZA'S reign.
And R ALEIGH pour'd destruction on our foes.
R USSEL and R OOKE were both the scourge of Spain.
Yet none more so than our immortal Ross.

He with his little Tartar did more good

Thy true Nobility, of antient bloud,
How it draws most men to thee that love good!
Oh that is true Nobility, which well
Most lively shines, in actions that excell;
Admired vertues evermore affecting,
Shewing indeed that they are worth selecting.

HA! such an one your Noble self I see:
Oh that's the reason most draw then to thee,
Well viewing of thy vertues, seldom seen
Attain'd in age, in thee had though but green.
Rightly indeed they may with admiration
Draw most to thee, and joy thy exultation.

Here rest the great and good. Here they repose
After their generous toil. A sacred band,
They take their sleep together, while the year
Comes with its early flowers to deck their graves,
And gathers them again, as Winter frowns.
Theirs is no vulgar sepulchre, — green sods
Are all their monument, and yet it tells
A nobler history than pillared piles,
Or the eternal pyramids. They need
No statue nor inscription to reveal
Their greatness. It is round them; and the joy
With which their children tread the hallowed ground

Memoir of Parliament for the Burgh of Stirling, &c.

All haill thoubranch of fam'd D UNDONALD'S house,
Great C OCHRAN , now our burrows they have chuse,
The thought of which each loyal burgher cheers,
When thus allied in friendship with our peers.
Long may you shine among th' illustrious few,
For Scotia she relies on men like you.

Now, while my Muse sings on triumphant wing,
To Hopeton house a tribute due I'll bring.
Propitious Hopeton ne'er withheld his aid
From those who wish'd to rear up Scotia's head.

I sat beside the pillow of a child, —
His dying pillow, — and I watched the ebb
Of his last fluttering breath. All tranquilly
He passed away, and not a murmur came
From his white lips. A film crept o'er his eye,
But did not all conceal it, and at times
The darkness stole away, and he looked out
Serenely, with an innocent smile, as if
Pleased with an infant's toy; and there was then
A very delicate flush upon his cheek,
Like the new edging of a damask-rose,
When first the bud uncloses. As I watched,

It is the noon of night, — the stars look faint
With their long watching, and the slumbering earth
Heaves not a breath, — the very air is still, —
The waters hush their voices, and the leaf
Hangs silent in the woods. No living thing
Looks on the sleep of nature; — I alone
Sit like a sentinel, and feel how calm
And beautiful is night.

I have thus often sat, and deep in thought
Outwatched the stars; have seen their fires grow dim,
Till the young morning stood upon the hills
Wreathed with her dewy roses. I the while

My spirit was o'er-wearied with the toil
At which the heart revolts; and dark and chill
The world was hushed around me, and all life
Lay in a deathlike slumber. I alone
Was wakeful, and I looked upon the night
Beautiful in its cloudless firmament,
And in its canopy of myriad stars,
With such a sense of sorrow, as when one
Deeply enamored gazes on a form
Shaped to celestial beauty, with the keen
And bitter thought that he can only gaze,
And love and worship, but can never be
Loved with an equal passion. It was dark,

O cou'd I sing as R AMSAY sung,
And far-fam'd F ERGUSSON ,
Or if my lyre it were but strung
Like R AB 's the Mauchline clown:
But as I can, I'll try to sing,
What happ's ilk year in Lunnon,
Whare laddies meet to dance a spring
Wi' lasses, to raise fun on
St A NDREW'S Day .

There was a time, when the o'erhanging sky
And the fair earth with its variety,
Mountain and valley, continent and sea,
Were not alone the unmoving things that lie
Slumbering beneath the sun's unclouded eye;
But every fountain had its spirit then,
That held communion oft with holy men,
And frequent from the heavenward mountain came
Bright creatures, hovering round on wings of flame,
And some mysterious sibyl darkly gave
Responses from the dim and hidden cave:
Voices were heard waking the silent air,

I.

Wide to the wind the canvas throw;
The moment calls, — away, away!
And let the full libation flow
To the bright sentinel of day;
Fill high the beaker to its brim,
And freely pour it in the sparkling sea,
That the blue-cinctured galley swim
Light as a bird who feels its liberty,
And, gladdening in the sun's reviving smile,
Floats o'er the water to its osier isle.