The Scots still undismay'd by fear
March'd on in firm array;

With ample targe and lengthen'd spear
They boldy urg'd their way.

Soon on the English ranks they close,
In vain their arrows flew;

They cast away their useless bows,

Now dreadful o'er the purpled plain
The fiends of Discord strod;
Fell Carnage gives her steeds the rein,
And dyes the dewy sod.

Fierce through the bleeding paths of war
With heart by vengeance fraught,

Each chieftain with unweary'd care
His hated rival sought.

They meet-they fight with equal skill 1;
With equal force they strive;
While each at each, with furious will,
Their fiery coursers drive.

O'er their bright arms in copious course
Fast flows the crimson flood;
Till, wearied with exhausted force,
Awhile they breathless stood.

Now from an English bow there came

Unseen a random dart;

Dire was the effect, though loose the aim;

It pierc'd Lord Douglas' heart.

A Scottish

A Scottish knight, with anger warm,
Beheld his chieftain bleed,

And through the battle's fiercest storm
He urg'd his barbed steed,

Through groves of pikes, in swift career,
And show'rs of darts he press'd;
Then bury'd deep his vengeful spear
In gallant Percy's breast.

"Revenge-revenge!" brave Edward cries, "Sound loud the dire alarm :

"He dies! our valiant leader dies! "By yon false traitor's arm."

He grasp'd his bow with sinews strong,
And bent the stubborn yew;

Then fix'd the arrow keen and long,
And firm the nerve he drew.

Home to his hand the steel-head came,
Home to his ear the wing;

With steady eye he took his aim,

Then loos'd the sounding string.

With force so fell against the knight
The fatal shaft was sped,

That the swan-plume that wing'd its flight
Was in his heart's blood red.

Brave Edward threw aside his bow,

And drew his shining brand;

But

But rushing on the prostrate foe,
His sword forsook his hand.

His manly sinews lost their force,
Pale horror shook his frame,
And falling on the breathless corse
He sigh'd Montgomery's name.

Intranc'd in death-like swoon he lay,
While rag'd the battle round;
Till, as more near approach'd the fray,
He started from the ground.

Yet listless mid the storm of fight
In dire despair he stood :
"How shall I meet Matilda's sight,

"Stain'd with her brother's blood?

"No more this hand the sword shall wield,
"This arm the targe oppose—”
Then threw away his sword and shield,
And rush'd amid the foes.

Soon gave the war's o'erwhelming tide

That fate his grief desir'd, And falling by Montgomery's side The ill-starr'd youth expir'd.

They fought from morn till even tide
Started th' ensanguin'd fray:
When scarce, alas ! from either side

March'd sixscore youths away.

When

When morn her dewy lustre spread,

The maids and matrons round,
For parents, brothers, husbands, dead,
Rang'd o'er the crimson ground.

Frantic with fear Matilda flies,

She sees her brother slain;
And lo! her much-lov'd Edward lies
Beside him on the plain.

Speechless she wrings her snowy hands,
Her tears refuse to flow;

But o'er the lifeless friends she stands
In monumental woe:

Till lab'ring with convulsive sighs
Fast ebbs her struggling breath;

She lifts to Heaven her fading eyes,

Then closes both in death.

ON

THE DEATH OF SIR JOSEPH ANDREWS,

DECEMBER 29, 1800.

As Heaven's ambrosial gales and genial showers
Deck Nature's smiling face with vernal flowers;
So shall, lamented Andrews! o'er thy tomb

The flowers arise of amaranthine bloom:

By those blest gales and showers matur'd, that blow
The sighs of virtue, and the tears of woe.

3

SONG.

SONG.

THE dark arch'd brow, the radiant eye,
Where thousand ambush'd Cupids lie;
The glowing cheek, the vermeil lip,
Where Jove himself might nectar sip,―
Without emotion who can see?
Or who can gaze and yet be free?

But when that brow is Candour's throne,
When through that eye is virtue shown,
When feeling glows upon that cheek,
When from those lips the Graces speak,-
Pallas herself fans Cupid's fire,
And Reason justifies Desire.

PARODY

ON ALONZO THE BRAVE,

A PLOUGHMAN So stout, and a damsel so fair,
Convers'd as they sat in the hay;

They ogled each other with simpering stare.
Pretty Peggy the gay was the name of the fair;
And the ploughman's the bold Roger Gray.

"And