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My heart did glowing transport feel, To see a race* heroic wheel,

And brandish round the deep-dy'd steel

In sturdy blows;

While back-recoiling seem'd to reel

Their suthorn foes.

His Country' Saviour,† mark him well! Bold Richardton's heroic swell;

The chief on Sarks who glorious fell,

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In high command;

And he whom ruthless fates expel

His native land.

There, where a scepter'd Pictish shade|| Stalk'd round his ashes lowly laid,

I mark'd a martial race portray'd

In colours strong;

Bold, soldier-featur'd, undismay'd

They strode along.

Thro' many a wild, romantic grove, Near many a hermit-fancy'd cove,

The Wallaces.

+ William Wallace.

Adam Wallace, of Richardton, cousin to the immortal preserver of Scottish independence.

§ Wallace, Laird of Craigie, who was second in command, under Douglas Earl of Ormond, at the famous battle on the banks of Sark, fought anno 1448. That glorious victory was principally owing to the judicious conduct and intrepid valour of the gallant Laird of Craigie, who died of his wounds after the action.

Coilus, king of the Picts, from whom the district of Kyle is said to take its name, lies buried, as tradition says, near the family sent of the Montgomeries of Coil's-field, where his burialplace is still shown.

¶ Barskimming, the seat of the late Lord Justice Clerk.

(Fit haunts for friendship or for love)

In musing mood,

An aged judge, I saw him rove,

Dispensing good.

With deep-struck reverential awe*
The learned sire and son I saw,
To Nature's God and Nature's law

They gave their lore,

This, all its source and end to draw,

That, to adore.

Brydone's brave wardt I well could spy, Beneath old Scotia's smiling eye;

Who call'd on fame, low standing by,

To hand him on,

Where many a patriot name on high,

And hero shone.

DUAN SECOND.

WITH musing-deep, astonish'd stare,
I view'd the heav'nly-seeming fair;
A whispering throb did witness bear,

Of kindred sweet,

When with an elder sister's air

She did me greet.

All hail my own inspired bard!

In me thy native muse regard!

* Catrine, the seat of the late doctor, and present professor Stewart.

+ Colonel Fullarton.

'Nor longer mourn thy fate is hard,

'Thus poorly low!

'I come to give thee such reward

'As we bestow.

'Know, the great genius of this land 'Has many a light, aërial band,

'Who, all beneath his high command,

'Harmoniously,

'As arts or arms they understand,

'Their labours ply.

"They Scotia's race among them share; 'Some fire the soldier on to dare;

'Some rouse the patriot up to bare

Corruption's heart:

'Some teach the bard, a darling care,

"The tuneful art.

"Mong swelling floods of reeking gore, They, ardent, kindling spirits pour;

'Or, 'mid the venal senate's roar,

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"They, slightless, stand,

To mend the honest patriot-lore,

And grace the hand.

'And when the bard, or hoary sage, Charm or instruct the future age, They bind the wild poetic rage

'In energy,

'Or point the inconclusive page

'Full on the eye.

'Hence Fullarton, the brave and young; "Hence Dempster's zeal-inspired tongue; 'Hence sweet harmonious Beattie sung

"His "Minstrel lays ;"

'Or tore, with noble ardour stung,

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"The Sceptic's bays.

To lower orders are assign'd

The humbler ranks of human-kind,
The rustic Bard, the lab'ring Hind,

'The Artisan;

All chuse, as various they're inclin'd,

The various man.

"When yellow waves the heavy grain, The threat'ning storm some strongly rein; 'Some teach to meliorate the plain

With tillage-skill;

'And some instruct the shepherd-train,

'Blythe o'er the hill.

'Some hint the lover's harmless wile; 'Some grace the maiden's artless smile; 'Some sooth the lab'rer's weary toil,

·

'For humble gains,

And make his cottage-scenes beguile

'His cares and pains.

Some, bounded to a district-space, 'Explore at large man's infant race, To mark the embryotic trace

Of rustic Bard;

And careful note each op'ning grace,

A guide and guard.

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"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,

'Thy natal hour.

With future hope, I oft would gaze 'Fond, on thy hittle 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, 'Delighted with the dashing roar; 'Or when the north his fieecy store

'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

6 With boundless love.

'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.

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