FIRST LINES.

Ah! who beneath this lonely heap,

A beam of tranquillity smil'd in the west,
A cloud lay cradled near the setting sun,
Ah me! how mournful, wan, and slow,
Ah, that funereal toll! loud tongue of Time!
Ah, think of June's delicious rays,

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Alas! I am an Orphan Boy,

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All thoughts, all passions, all delights,

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And thou hast walk'd about, (how strange a story

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And where is he? not by the side,

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Arise, arise, thou Queen of love!

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Art thou a thing of mortal birth,

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Ask me no more where Jove bestows,
Ask not the cause why sullen Spring,

A scene like this can seldom fail to please,

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A slender tree upon a height in lonely beauty towers,

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At the silence of twilight's contemplative hour,

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Autumn, I hail thy steps!

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A Warrior so bold, and a Virgin so bright,

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Behold, forth issuing from his azure domes,
Beneath a Weeping Willow,

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Beneath the beech whose branches bare,

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Beneath the tall turrets that nod o'er the dell,

Bring me a garland, bring me a wreath,

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Clos'd is the book, the tale is o'er,
Come live with me, and be my love,
Come to my bower in Summer's vale,
Culloden, on thy swarthy brow,

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