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How prompt are striplings to believe her! Yet, it could not be Love, for I knew not How throbs the pulse, when first we view

the name; The eye that rolls in glossy blue,

What passion can dwell in the heart of a Or sparkles black, or mildly throws

child? A beam from under hazel brows!

But, still, I perceive an emotion the same How quick we credit every oath, As I felt, when a boy, on the crag-cover'd And hear her plight the willing troth!.

wild: Fondly we hope 'twill last for aye, One image, alone, on my bosom impresh When, lo! she changes in a day.

I loved my bleak regions,nor panted for new; This record will for ever stand,

And few were my wants, for my wishes “Woman! thy vows are traced in sand.”

were blest, And pure were my thoughts, for my soul

was with you. TO M. S. G.

I arose with the dawn; with my dog u

my guide, When I dream that you love me, you'll From mountain to mountain I bounded surely forgive,

along, Extend not your anger to sleep; I breasted the billows of Dee's rushing tide, For in visions alone your affection can live; And heard at a distance the Highlander's I rise, and it leaves me to weep.


At eve, on my heath-cover'd couch of report. Then, Morpheus ! envelope my faculties fast, No dreams, save of Mary, were spread to Shed o'er me your languor benign;

my view, Should the dream of to-night but resemble And warm to the skies my devotions arose,

the last,

For the first of my prayers was a blessing What rapture celestial is mine!

on you. They tell us, that slumber, the sister of I left my bleak home, and my visions are death,

gone, Mortality's emblem is given;

The mountains are vanish’d, my youth is To fate how I long to resign my frail breath,

no more ; If this be a foretaste of heaven!

As the last of my race, I must wither alone,

And delight but in days I have witness d Ah! frown not, sweet Lady, unbend your

before. soft brow, Ah! splendour has raised, but embitter'd Nor deem me too happy in this; If I sin in my dream, I atone for it now, More dear were the scenes which my inThus doom'd but to gaze upon bliss.

fancy knew ;

Though my hopes may have fail'd, yet they Though in visions, sweet Lady, perhaps,

are not forgot, you may smile, Though cold is my heart, still it lingers Oh! think not my penance deficient;

with you. When dreams of your presence my slumbers


When I see some dark hill point its crest To awake will be torture sufficient.

to the sky, I think of the rocks that o'ershadow Cel

bleen ;

When I see the soft blue of a love-speaking SONG.


I think of those eyes that endear'd the rude When I roved, a young Highlander, o'er

scene; the dark heath, When, haply, some light waving locks ! And climb'd thy steep summit, oh! Morven

behold, of Snow,

That faintly resemble my Mary's in hue, To gaze on the torrent that thunder'd I think on the long flowing ringlets of gold


The locks that were sacred to beauty and Or the mist of the tempest that gather'd

you. below, Untutor'd by science, a stranger to fear, Yet the day may arrive, when the mountAnd rude as the rocks where my infancy

ains, once more grew,

Shall rise to my sight, in their manties of No feeling, save one, to my bosom was dear,

snow: Need I say, my swoet Mary, 'twas centred But while these soar above me, unchanged in you?

as before,

my lot,


Will Mary be there to receive me? ah, no! If danger demanded, were wholly your
Adien! then, ye hills, where


was bred,

You knew me unalter'd, by years or by Thou sweet flowing Dee, to thy waters

distance, adieu !

Devoted to love and to friendship alone. No home in the forest shall shelter my head; Ah! Mary, what home could be mine, but You knew, – but away with the vain rewith you ?

trospection, The bond of affection no longer endures; Too late you may droop o'er the fond re

collection, TO ...

And sigh for the friend who was formerly

yours. On! yes, I will own we were dear to each


For the present, we part,- I will hope not The friendships of childhood, though

for ever, fleeting, are true; For time and regret will restore you at last; The love which you felt, was the love of To forget our dissension we both should a brother,

endeavour; Nor less the affection I cherish'd for you. I ask no atonement, but days like the past. But Friendship can vary her gentle dominion, The attachment of years in a moment

Like Love too, she moves on a swift-waving

But glows not, like Love, with unquench-

able fires.

This faint resemblance of thy charms, Full oft have we wander'd through Ida

Though strong as mortal art could give, together,

My constant heart of fear disarms,
And blest were the scenes of our youth,

Revives my hopes, and bids me live.

I allow; . In the spring of our life how serene is the Here, I can trace the locks of gold,


Which round thy snowy forehead wave; But winter's rude tempests are gathering | The cheeks, which sprung from Beauty's


The lips, which made me Beauty's slave. No more with Affection shall Memory Here, I can trace---ah no! that eye,

The wonted delights of our childhood

Whose azure floats in liquid fire,

Must all the painter's art defy,
When Pride steels the bosom, the heart is

And bid him from the task retire.
And what would be Justice appears a

Here I behold its beauteous hue,

But where's the beam so sweetly straying?

Which gave a lustre to its blue, However, dear S--, for I still must

Like Luna o'er the ocean playing.

esteem you, The few whom I love I can never upbraid, Sweet copy! far more dear to me, The chance, which has lost, may in future

Lifeless, unfeeling as thou art,
redeem you,

Than all the living forms could be,
Repentance will cancel the vow you have

Save her who placed thee next my heart. made.

She placed it, sad, with needless fear, I will not complain, and though chill'd is

Lest time might shake my wavering soul, affection,

Unconscious, that her image, there,
With me no corroding resentment shall

Held every sense in fast controul.

live; My bosom is calm’d by the simple reflection, Thro' hours, thro' years, thro' time, 'twill

That both may be wrong, and that both
should forgive.

My hope, in gloomy moments, raise;

In life's last conflict 'twill appear, - You knew that my soul, that my heart,

And meet my fond expiring gaze. my existence,


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To those who think remonstrance leazing, In law an infant, and in years a boy,

At once I'll tell thee our opinion, In mind a slave to every vicious joy,

Concerning woman's soft dominion : From every sense of shame and virtue Howe'er we gaze with admiration,


On eyes of blue, or lips carnation; In lies an adept, in deceit a fiend;

Howe'er the flowing locks attract us, Versed in hypocrisy, while yet a child,

Howe'er those beauties may distract us; Fickle as wind, of inclinations wild;

Still fickle, we are prone to rove, Woman his dupe, his heedless friend a tool, These cannot fix our souls to love; Old in the world, tho' scarcely broke from It is not too severe a stricture,


To say they form a pretty picture. Damætas ran through all the maze of sin, But wouldst thou see the secret chain, And found the goal, when others just begin; Which binds us in your humble train, Even still conflicting passions shake his soul, To hail you queens of all creation, And bid him drain the dregs of pleasures Know, in a word, 'tis ANIMATION.

bowl: But, pallid with vice, he breaks his former chain,

OSCAR OF ALVA. And, what was once his bliss, appears

his bane.

How sweetly shines, through azure skies,

The lamp of Heaven on Lora's shore; TO MARION.

Where Alva's hoary turrets rise,
MARION ! why that pensive brow ?

And hear the din of arms no more.
What disgust to life hast thou 3
Change that discontented air;

But often has yon rolling moon
Frowns become not one so fair.

On Alva's casques of silver play'd, 'Tis not love disturbs thy rest,

And view'd, at midnight's silent noon, Love's a stranger to thy breast;

Her chiefs in gleaming mail array d. He in dimpling smiles appears, Or mourns in sweetly timid tears ; And, on the crimson'd rocks beneath, Or bends the languid eyelid down,

Which scowl o'er ocean's sullen flow, But shuns the cold forbidding frown. Pale in the scatter'd ranks of death, Then resume thy former fire,

She saw the gasping warrior low.
Some will love, and all admire ;
While that icy aspect chills us,

While many an eye, which ne'er again Nought but cool indifference thrills us. Could mark the rising orb of day, Wouldst thou wandering hearts beguile, Turn'd feebly from the gory plain, Smile, at least, or seem to smile;

Beheld in death her fading ray.
Eyes like thine were never meant
To hide their orbs, in dark restraint; Once, to those eyes the lamp of Love,
Spite of all, thou fain wouldst say,

They blest her dear propitious light: Still in truant beams they play.

But, now, she glimmer'd from above,
Thy lips,– but here my modest Muse A sad funereal torch of night.
Her impulse chaste must needs refuse.
She blushes, curtsies, frowns,-in short she Faded is Alva's noble race,
Dreads, lest the subject should transport me, And gray her towers are seen afar;
And flying off, in search of reason, No more her heroes urge the chase,
Brings prudence back in proper season. Or roll the crimson tide of war.
All I shall therefore say (whate'er
I think is neither here nor there), But, who was last of Alva's clan?
Is that such lips, of looks endearing, Why grows the moss on Alva's stone!
Were form’d for better things, than sneering. Her towers resound no steps of man,
Of soothing compliments divested,

They echo to the gale alone.
Advice at least's disinterested;
Such is my artless song to thee,

And, when that gale is fierce and high, From all the flow of flattery free;

A sound is heard in yonder hall, Counsel, like mine, is as a brother's, It rises hoarsely through the sky, My heart is given to some others;

And vibrates o'er the mouldering wall That is to say, unskill'd to cozen, It shares itself amongst a dozen.

Yes, when the eddying tempest sighs, Marion ! adieu! oh! prithee slight not It shakes the shield of Oscar brave; This warning, though it may delight not; But there no nrore his banners rise, And, Icst iny precepts be displeasing No more his plumes of sable wave.

Fair shone the sun on Oscar's birth, See, how the heroes' blood-red plumes

When Angus hail'd his eldest-born ; Assembled wave in Alva's hall;
The vassals round their chieftain's hearth Each youth his varied plaid assumes,

Crowd to applaud the happy morn. Attending on their chieftain's call.
They feast upon the mountain-deer, It is not war their aid demands,

The pibroch raised its piercing note, The pibroch plays the song of peace;
To gladden more their Highland cheer, To Oscar's nuptials throng the bands,

The strains in martial numbers float, Nor yet the sounds of pleasure cease. Ind they who heard the war-notes wild, But where is Oscar? sure 'tis late :

Hoped that, one day, the pibroch's strain Is this a bridegroom's ardent flame? hould play before the hero's child, While thronging guests and ladies wait,

While he should lead the Tartan train. Nor Oscar nor his brother came.
Another year is quickly past,

At length young Allan join'd the bride : And Angus hails another son,

“Why comes not Oscar ?" Angus said; lis natal day is like the last,

“Is he not here?” the Youth replied, Nor soon the jocund feast was done. “With me he roved not o'er the glade. Caught by their sire to bend the bow, Perchance, forgetful of the day, On Alva's dusky hills of wind,

'Tis his to chase the bounding roe; Che boys in childhood chased the roe, Or Ocean's waves prolong his stay,

And left their hounds in speed behind. Yet Oscar's bark is seldom slow."
But, ere their years of youth are o'er, “Oh! no!” the anguish'd Sire rejoin'd,

They mingle in the ranks of war; "Nor chase, nor wave my Boy delay :
Chey lightly wield the bright claymore, Would he to Mora scem unkind?

And send the whistling arrow far. Would aught to her impede his way? Dark was the flow of Oxear's hair, Oh! search, ye Chiefs! oh! search around!

Wildly it streamed along the gale; Allan, with these, through Alva fly, But Allan's locks were bright and fair, Till Oscar, till my son is found;

And pensive seem'd his cheek, and pale. Haste, haste, nor dare attempt reply." But Oscar ownd a hero's soul,

All is confusion,-through the vale, His dark eye shone through beams of truth; The name of Oscar hoarsely rings, Ilan had early learn'd controul,

It rises on the murmuring gale, And smooth his words had been from Till Night expands her dusky wings.


It breaks the stillness of the night, Both, both were brave; the Saxon spear But echoes through her shades in vain;

Was shiver'd oft beneath their steel; It sounds through morning's misty light, Ind Oscar's bosom scorn'd to fear,

But Oscar comes not o'er the plain. But Oscar's bosom knew to feel.

Three days, three sleepless nights, the While Allan's soul belied his form,

Chief Unworthy with such charms to dwell; For Oscar search'd each mountain-cave; ieen as the lightning of the storm, Then hope is lost in boundless grief,

On foes his deadly vengeance fell. His locks in gray torn ringlets wave. from high Southannon's distant tower “Oscar! my Son!- Thou God of Heaven! Arrived a young and noble dame;

Restore the prop of sinking age ; With Kenneth's land to form her dower, Or, if that hope no more is given, Glenalvon's blue-eyed daughter came:

Yield his assassin to my rage. Ind Oscar claim'd the beauteous bride, Yes, on some desert rocky shore, And Angus on his Oscar smiled;

My Oscar’s whitend bones must lie ; t soothed the father's feudal pride, Then grant, thou God! I ask no more, Thus to obtain Glenalvon's child.

With him bis frantic Sire may die.

Jark! to the pibroch's pleasing note,

Hark! to the swelling nuptial song ; in joyous strains the voices float, And still the choral peal prolong.

Yet, he may live,-away despair;

Be calm, my soul! he yet may live: T' arraign my fate. my voice forbear; O God! my impious prayer forgive.

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Hark to the pibroch's pleasing note ! “With all my soul,” old Angus said, Hark to the swelling nuptial song!

And fillid his goblet to the brim; In joyous strains the voices float,

“Here's to my boy! alive or dead, And still the choral eal prolong.

I ne'er shall find a son like him." Again the clan, in festive crowd, “Bravely old man, this health has sped.

Throng through the gate of Alva's hall; But why does Allan trembling stand! The sounds of mirth re-echo loud, Come, drink remembrance of the dead, And all their former joy recal.

And raise thy cup with firmer hand." But, who is he, whose darken'd brow The crimson glow of Allan's face

Glooms in the midst of general mirth? Was turn'd at once to ghastly hne; Before his eye's far fiercer glow

The drops of death each other chase, The blue flames curdle o'er the hearth. Adown in agonizing dew. Dark is the robe which wraps his form, Thrice did he raise the goblet high, And tall his plame of gory red ;

And thrice his lips refused to taste; His voice is like the rising storm,

For thrice he caught the stranger's eye, But light and trackless is his tread. On his with deadly fury placed. 'Tis noon of night, the pledge goes round, "And is it thus a brother hails

The bridegroom's health is deeply quaft; A brother's fond remembrance here? With shouts the vaulted roofs resound, If thus affection's strength prevails,

And all combine to hail the draught. What might we not expect from fear ?"

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