SHIRE, WITH BAYS.

WHILE Virgin Spring, by Eden's flood,
Unfolds her tender mantle green,
Or pranks the sod in frolic mood,

Or tunes Eolian strains between : While Summer, with a matron grace, Retreats to Dryburgh's cooling shade, Yet oft, delighted, stops to trace

The progress of the spiky blade:

While Autumn, benefactor kind,
By Tweed erects his aged head,
And sees, with self-approving mind,
Each creature on his bounty fed:

While maniac Winter rages o'er

The hills whence classic Yarrow flows,

Rousing the turbid torrent's roar,

Or sweeping, wild, a waste of snows:

So long, sweet Poet of the year,

Draw near with pious rev'rence and attend! Here lie the loving husband's dear remains, The tender father and the gen'rous friend.

The pitying heart that felt for human woe; The dauntless heart that fear'd no human pride;

The friend of man, to vice alone a foe; "For ev'n his failings leaned to virtue's side. *"

FOR R. A. Esq.

KNOW thou, O stranger to the fame Of this much lov'd, much honour'd name! (For none that knew him need be told) A warmer heart death ne'er made cold.

FOR G. H. Esq.

While Scotia, with exulting tear,

Proclaims that THOMSON was her son.

Whom canting wretches blam'd: But with such as he, where'er he be, May I be saved or d――d!

This was written in the same measure as the Birks

LEAVE ME?

Tune-" An Gille dubh ciar dhubh."

STAY, my charmer, can you leave me?
Cruel, cruel to deceive me!
Well you know how much you grieve me;
Cruel charmer, can you go?
Cruel charmer, can you go?

By my love so ill-requited;
By the faith you fondly plighted;
By the pangs of lovers slighted;

Do not, do not leave me so!
Do not, do not leave me so!

STRATHALLAN'S LAMENT.
THICKEST night o'erhangs my dwelling!
Howling tempests o'er me rave!
Turbid torrents, wintry swelling,
Still surround my lonely cave!

Chrystal streamlets gently flowing,
Busy haunts of base mankind,
Western breezes, softly blowing,
Suit not my distracted mind.
In the cause of right engaged,

Wrongs injurious to redress,
Honour's war we strongly waged,

But the heavens deny'd success.

Ruin's wheel has driven o'er us,

Not a hope that dare attend, The wide world is all before usBut a world without a friend !*

THE YOUNG HIGHLAND ROVER.

Tune-" Morag,"

LOUD blaw the frosty breezes,

The snaws the mountains cover; Like winter on me seizes,

Since my young highland rover Far wanders nations over. Where'er he go, where'er he stray, May heaven be his warden : Return him safe to fair Strathspey, And bonnie Castle-Gordon "

The trees now naked groaning,
Shall soon wi' leaves be hinging,
The birdies dowie moaning,
Shall a' be blythely singing,

is borrowed but the chorus.

*Strathallan, it is presumed, was one of the followers of the young Chevalier, and is supposed to be lying con. cealed in some cave of the Highlands, after the battle of Culloden. This song was written before the year

Till some ev'ning, sober, calm,
Dropping dews, and breathing balm,
While all around the woodland rings,
And ev'ry bird thy requiem sings;
Thou, amid the dirgeful sound,
Shed thy dying honours round,
And resign to parent earth

The loveliest form she e'er gave birth.

SONG.

ANNA, thy charms my bosom fire,
And waste my soul with care;
But, ah! how bootless to admire,
When fated to despair!

Yet in thy presence, lovely Fair,
To hope may be forgiv'n;
For sure 'twere impious to despair,
So much in sight of Heav'n."

ON READING, IN A NEWSPAPER,

THE DEATH OF JOHN M'LEOD, Esq.

BROTHER TO A YOUNG LADY A PARTICULAR FRIEND OF THE AUTHOR'S.

SAD thy tale, thou idle page,

And rueful thy alarms:

Death tears the brother of her love

From Isabella's arms.

Sweetly deck'd with pearl dew

The morning rose may blow;

But cold successive noontide blasts May lay its beauties low.

Fair on Isabella's morn

The sun propitious smil'd;

But long ere noon, succeeding clouds
Succeeding hopes beguil'd.

Fate oft tears the bosom chords
That nature finest strung:
So Isabella's heart was form'd,
And so that heart was rung.

Dread Omnipotence, alone,

Can heal the wound he gave; Can point the brimful grief-worn eyes To scenes beyond the grave.

Virtuous blossoms there shall blow, And fear no withering blast; There Isabella's spotless worth Shall happy be at last.

HUMBLE PETITION OF BRUAR WATER.

TO THE NOBLE Duke of Athole.

MY LORD, I know your noble ear
Woe ne'er assails in vain ;
Embolden'd thus, I beg you'll hear
Your humble slave complain,
How saucy Phoebus' scorching beams,
In flaming summer-pride,
Dry-withering, waste my foaming streams,
And drink my crystal tide.

The lightly jumping glowrin trouts,
That thro' my waters play,

If, in their random, wanton spouts,
They near the margin stray;
If, hapless chance! they linger lang,
I'm scorching up so shallow,
They're left the whitening stanes amang,
In gasping death to wallow.

Last day I grat, wi' spite and teen,
As poet B-came by,
That, to a bard I should be seen,
Wi' half my channel dry;
A panegyric rhyme, I ween,
Even as I was he shor'd me:
But had I in my glory been,

He, kneeling, wad ador'd me.

Here, foaming down the shelvy rocks,
In twisting strength I rin;
There, high my boiling torrent smokes,
Wild-roaring o'er a linn:
Enjoying large each spring and well
As nature gave them me,

I am, although I say't mysel,
Worth gaun a mile to see.

Would then my noble master please
To grant my highest wishes,

He'll shade my banks wi' tow'ring trees,
And bonnie spreading bushes;
Delighted doubly then, my Lord,
You'll wander on my banks,
And listen mony a grateful bird
Return you tuneful thanks.

The sober laverock warbling wild,
Shall to the skies aspire;

The gowdspink, music's gayest child,
Shall sweetly join the choir:

The blackbird strong, the lintwhite clear,
The mavis wild and mellow;
The robin pensive autumn cheer,
In all her locks of yellow :

This too, a covert shall insure,

To shield them from the storm;

*Bruar Falls, in Athole, are exceedingly picturesque and beautiful, but their effect is much impaired by the want of trees and shrubs.