• Of these am I-Coila my name; And this district as mine I claim, • Where once the Campbells, chiefs of fame, Held ruling pow'r: I mark'd thy embryo tuneful flame, • With future hope, I oft would gaze Fond, on thy little early ways, Thy rudely caroll'd, chiming phrase, In uncouth rhymes, Fir'd at the simple, artless lays • Of other times. 'I saw thee seek the sounding shore, Drove thro' the sky, I saw grim Nature's visage hoar • Struck thy young eye. 'Or when the deep-green mantl'd earth • Warm cherish'd ev'ry flow'ret's birth, And joy and music pouring forth • In ev'ry grove, • I saw thee eye the gen'ral mirth • With boundless love. • When • When ripen'd fields, and azure skies, • Call'd forth the reaper's rustling noise, I saw thee leave their ev'ning joys, And lonely stalk, To vent thy bosom's swelling rise In pensive walk. • When youthful love, warm-blushing, strong, • Keen-shivering shot thy nerves along, • Those accents, grateful to thy tongue, Th' adored Name, • I taught thee how to pour in song, To sooth thy flame. I saw thy pulse's maddening play, < Wild send thee Pleasure's devious way, • Misled by Fancy's meteor ray, By Passion driven; But yet the light that led astray • Was light from heaven. I taught thy manners-painting strains, The loves, the ways of simple swains, 'Till now, o'er all my wide domains Thy fame extends; And some, the pride of Coila's plains, Become thy friends. • Thou • Thou canst not learn, nor can I show, To paint with Thomson's landscape glow; 'Or wake the bosom melting throe, • With Shenstone's art; Or pour, with Gray, the moving flow . Warm on the heart. < Yet all beneath th' unrivall'd rose, The lowly daisy sweetly blows: 'Tho' large the forest's monarch throws His army shade, • Yet green the juicy hawthorn grows, • Adown the glade. • Then never murmur or repine; Strive in thy humble sphere to shine; And trust me, not Potosi's mine, • Nor kings' regard, Can give a bliss o'ermatching thine, A rustic Bard. To give my counsels all in one, Thy tuneful flame still careful fan; • Preserve the Dignity of Man, • With soul erect; 'And trust, the Universal Plan • Will all protect. • And And wear thou this' she solemn said, And bound the Holly round my head: The polish'd leaves, and berries red, Did rustling play; And, like a passing thought, she fled 鬼 ADDRESS ADDRESS TO THE UNCO GUID, OR THE RIGIDLY RIGHTEOUS. My son, these maxims make a rule, The cleanest corn that e'er was dight For random fits o' daffin. SOLOMON.-Eccles. ch. vii. ver. 16. I. O YE wha are sae guid yoursel, Sae pious and sae holy, Ye've nought to do but mark and tell Your neebour's faults and folly! VOL. III. I Whase |