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That, for themsels, nae coft they'll spare

To mak them braw; Than maun ye tell, wi wit and care,

They're bony a';

They'll a' be there, the kintry 'round
Our Eskdale laflies say they're bound.
-Ye'd need to be a wylie loon,

Like ye'r ain lays,
Or, trowth, I dread they will ye drown

Wi' fowth o' praise.

Lang may ye fing, weel may ye phraze,
Ha'e rowth and plenty a' ye'r days ;
And I fall

gar
a' our green braes

Ken weel ye'r name ;
I'm sure ye still fall ha'e the praise

Of

ESKDALE TAM. Laogholm.

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THE

HE wind blew hollow frae the hills, By fits the sun's departing beam Look'd on the fading yellow woods

That wav'd o'er Lugar's winding stream: Beneath a craigy steep, a Barc,

Laden with years and meikle pain,
In loud lament bewail'd his lord,

Whom death had all untimely ta’en.
Vol. II.

с

He lean'd him to an ancient aik,

Whose trunk was mould'ring down with years ; His locks were bleached white with time,

His hoary cheek was wet wi' tears ; And as he touch'd his trembling barp,

And as he tuned his doleful sang, The winds, lamenting thro' their caves,

To echo bore the notes alang.

• Ye scatter'd birds that faintly fing

• The reliques of the vernal quire; • Ye woods that shed on a'the winds

- The honours of the aged year, A few short months, and glad and gay,

Again ye'll charm the ear and e'e; ! But nocht in all-revolving time

6 Can gladness bring again to me.

. I am a bending aged tree,

That long has stood the wind and rain;
• But now has come a cruel blast,
$ And

my
last hald of earth is

gane :
. Nae leaf o' mine shall greet the spring,
• Nae fimmer sun exalt

my

bloom ; But I maun lie before the storm, • And ithers plant them in

my room.

I've seen sae mony changefu' years,

« On earth I am a stranger grown: # I wander in the

ways

of

meng
Akke unknowing and unknown:

Unheard, unpitied, unreliev'd,

" I bear alane my lade o' care, • For filent, low, on beds of dust,

• Lie a' that would my sorrows share.

And last, (the sum of a' my griefs!)
• My noble master lies in clay;
The flower amạng our barons bold,

· His country's pride, his country's stay: . In weary being now I pine,

· For all the life of life is dead, • And hope has left my aged ken,

« On forward wing for ever fled.

« Awake thy last fad voice, my barp;

• The voice of woe and wild despair! - Awake, resound thy latest lay,

· Then sleep in filence evermair! « And thou, my last, best, only friend,

That filleft an untimely tomb, • Accept this tribute from the Bard

• Thou brought from fortune's mirkest gloom.

• In Poverty's low barren vale,

• Thick mists, obscure, involv'd me round; • Though oft I turned the willful eye, « Nae

ray

of fame was to be found : • Thou found'st me, like the morning sun

. That melts the fogs in limpid air, The friendless Bard and rustic song, • Became alike thy foitering care.

O! why hạs worth so short a date !

• While villains ripen grey with time! . Must thou, the noble, generous, great,

« Fall in bold manhood's hardy prime ! Why did I live to fee that day?

6 A day to me so full of woe ! 6 O! had I met the mortal shaft

• Which laid my benefactor low!

• The bridegroom may forget the bride,

6 Was made his wedded wife yeftreen; • The monarch may forget the crown

• That on his head an hour has been ; • The mother may forget the child

“That smiles fae fweetly on her knee ; & But I'll remember thee, Glencairn,

And a' that thou haft done for me!'

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