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'Tis said, that Berenice's hair
In stars adorns the vault of heaven; But they would ne'er permit thee there,
Thou wouldst so far outshine the seven. For did those eyes as planets roll,
Thy sister-lights would scarce appear : E'en suns, which systems now control,
Would twinkle dimly through their sphere.
WOMAN! experience might have told me
that rolls in glossy blue;
* The last line is almost a literal translation from a Spanish proverb.
TO M. S. G.
I rise, and it leaves me to weep.
Shed o'er me your languor benign;
What rapture celestial is mine!
Mortality's emblem is given;
If this be a foretaste of Heaven.
Nor deem me too happy in this;
Thus doom'd but to gaze upon bliss.
smile, Oh! think not my penance deficient; When dreams of your presence my slumbers beguile, .
To awake will be torture sufficient.
snow;* To gaze on the torrent that thunder'd beneath,
Or the mist of the tempest that gather'd below,t * Morven, a lofty mountain in Aberdeenshire: 'Gormal of snow,' is an expression frequently to be found in Ossian.
† This will not appear extraordinary to those who have been
Untutor'd by science, a stranger to fear,
And rude as the rocks where my infancy grew, No feeling, save one, to my bosom was dear,
Need I say, my sweet Mary, 'twas center'd in
Yet, it could not be love, for I knew not the name,
What passion can dwell in the heart of a child ? But still I perceive an emotion the same
As I felt, when a boy, on the crag-cover'd wild: One image alone on my bosom impress’d,
I loved my bleak regions, nor panted for new; And few were my wants, for my wishes were bless'd,
And pure were my thoughts, for my soul was
I arose with the dawn, with my dog as my guide,
From mountain to mountain I bounded along; I breasted* the billows of Dee'st rushing tide,
And heard at a distance the Highlander's song : At eve, on my heath-cover'd couch of repose, No dreams, save of Mary, were spread to my
view, And warm to the skies my devotions arose,
For the first of my prayers was a blessing on you. I left my bleak home, and my visions are gone, The mountains are vanish'd, my youth is no
more; As the last of my race, I must wither alone,
And delight but in days I have witness'd before :
accustomed to the mountains; it is by no means uncommon on attaining the top of Ben-e-vis, Ben-y-bourd, &c. to perceive between the summit and the valley clouds pouring down rain, and occasiovally accompanied by lightning, while the spectator literally looks down upon the storm, perfectly secure from its effects.
* Breasting the lofty mountain.-Shakspeare.
+ The Dee is a beautiful river, which rises near Mar Lodge and falls into the sea at New Aberdeen.
Ah! splendour has raised, but embitter'd my lot, More dear were the scenes which my infancy
knew; Though my hopes may have fail'd, yet they are not
forgot, Though cold is my heart, still it lingers with you. When I see some dark hill point its crest to the sky,
I think of the rocks that o'ershadow Colbleen ;* When I see the soft blue of a love-speaking eye, I think of those eyes that endear'd the rude
scene, When, haply, some light-waving locks 1 behold,
That faintly resemble my Mary's in hue, J think on the long flowing ringlets of gold,
The locks that were sacred to beauty and you. Yet the day may arrive, when the mountains once
Shall rise to my sight, in their mantles of snow: But while these soar above me, unchanged as be
fore, Will Mary be there to receive me? ah no! Adieu! then, ye hills, where my childhood was
bred, Thou sweet flowing Dee, to thy waters adieu ! No home in the forest shall shelter my head,
Ah! Mary, what home could be mine but with
Colhleen is a mountain near the verge of the Highlands, not far from the ruins of Dee Castle.
TO Oh! yes, I will own we were dear to each other, The friendships of childhood, though fleeting, are
true; The love which you felt, was the love of a brother,
Nor less the affection I cherish'd for you. Bat friendship can vary her gentle dominion,
The attachment of years in a moment expires ; Like love, too, she moves on a swift waving pinion,
But glows not, like love, with unquenchable fires. Full oft have we wander'd through Ida together,
And blest were the scenes of our youth I allow; In the spring of our life, how serene is the weather;
But winter's rude tempests are gathering now. No more with affection shall memory, blending
The wonted delights of our childhood, retrace; When pride steels the bosom, the heart is unbend
ing, And what would be justice appears a disgrace. However, dear S- for I still must esteem you
The few whom I love I can never upbraid, The chance which has lost, may in future redeem
you, Repentance will cancel the vow you have made. I will not complain, and though chill’d is affection,
With me no corrodiny resentment shall live: My bosom is calm’d by the simple reflection, That both may be wrong, and that both should
forgive. You knew that my soul, that my heart, my existence,
If danger demanded, were wholly your own; You knew me unalter'd
years by stance, Devoted to love and to friendship alone.