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Here fhall the fhepherd make his feat,
To wave his crown of flowers;
Or find a sheltering, safe retreat,
From prone defcending showers.

And here, by fweet endearing ftealth,
Shall meet the loving pair,
Defpifing worlds with all their wealth
As empty idle care:

The flowers fhall vie in all their charms
The hour of heaven to grace,
And birks extend their fragrant arms
To fcreen the dear embrace.

Here haply too, at vernal dawn,
Some mufing bard may ftray,
And eye the fmoking, dewy lawn,
And misty mountain grey;
Or, by the reaper's nightly beam,
Mild-chequering thro' the trees,
Rave to my darkly dafhing ftream,
Hoarfe fwelling on the breeze.

Let lofty firs, and ashes cool,
My lowly banks o erfpread,
And view, deep-bending in the pool,
Their fhadows' wat`ry bed:

Let fragrant birks in woodbines dreft,

My craggy cliffs adorn;

And, for the little fongfter's neft,

The clofe embowering thorn.

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So may, Old Scotia's darling hope,
Your little angel band

Spring, like their fathers, up to prop

Their honour'd native land!

So may, thro' Albion's farthest kin,”
To focial-flowing glaffes

The grace be——“ Athole's honeft men,
"And Athole's bonnie laffies!”

On fearing fome WATER-FOWL in LOUGH-TURIT, a wild scene among the HILLS of OUGHTERTYRE.

WHY, ye tenants of the lake,

For me your watry haunt forsake?
Tell me, fellow-creatures, why
At my prefence thus you fly?
Why disturb your focial joys,
Parent, filial, kindred ties?—
Common friend to you and me,
Nature's gifts to all are free:
Peaceful keep your dimpling wave,
Bufy feed, or wanton lave;
Or, beneath the fheltering rock,
Bide the furging billows shock.

Confcious, blufhing for our race, Soon, too foon, your fears I trace:

Man, your proud ufurping foe,
Would be lord of all below:

Plumes himself in Freedom's pride,
Tyrant ftern to all befide.

The eagle, from the cliffy brow,
Marking you his prey below,
In his breaft no pity dwells,
Strong Neceffity compels.

But man, to whom alone is given
A ray direct from pitying Heaven,
Glories in his heart humane.
In creatures for his pleasure flain.

In thefe favage, liquid plains,
Only known to wandering (wains,
Where the moffy riv❜let rays,
Far from human haunts and ways;
All on Nature you depend,

And life's poor season peaceful spend.

Or, if man's fuperior might

Dare invade your native right,
On the lofty ether borne,

Man with all his powers you fcorn;
Swiftly feek, on clanging wings,
Other lakes and other fprings;
And the foe you cannot brave,
Scorn at least to be his flave.

3

Written with a PENCIL Over the CHIMNEY-PIECES in the Parlour of the INN at K EN MORE

TAYMOUTH.

ADMIRING

DMIRING Nature in her wildeft grace,
These northern scenes with weary feet I trace;
O'er many a winding dale and painful fteep,
Th' abodes of coveyed groufe and timid fheep,
My favage journey, curious, I pursue,

;

Till fam'd Breadalbaine opens to my view.-
The meeting cliffs each deep-funk glen divides,
The woods, wild-fcattered, clothe their ample fides;
Th' outstretching lake, imbofomed 'mong the hills,
The
eye
with wonder and amazement fills
The lay meandering sweet in infant pride,
The palace rifing on his verdant fide;
The lawns wood-fringed in Nature's native tafte;
The hillocks dropt in Nature's careless hafte ;
The arches ftriding o'er the new-born stream;
The village glittering in the noontide beam-

* * *

Poetic ardours in my bofom fwell,

Lone wandring by the hermit's moffy cell:
The fweeping theatre of hanging woods;
The inceffant roar of headlong tumbling floods-

Here Poefy might wake her Heaven taught lyre, And look through Nature with creative fire;

Here, to the wrongs of Fate half reconcil d,
Misfortune's lightened fteps might wander wild;
And Disappointment, in these lonely bounds,
Find balm to footh her bitter rankling wounds:
Here heart-ftruck Grief might heavenward stretch her
fcan,

And injur'd Worth forget and pardon man.

* * *

*

Written with a PENCIL, ftanding by the FALL of FYERS, near LOCH-NESS.

AMONG

MONG the heathy hills and ragged woods The roaring Fyers pours his mofly Floods;

Till full he dashes on the rocky mounds,

Where, through a fhapeless breach, his ftream refounds,

As high in air the bursting torrents flow,

As deep recoiling furges foam below,

Prone down the rock the whitening sheet defcends,

And viewlefs Echo's ear, aftonished, rends.

Dim feen, through rifing mifts and ceaseless showers,
The hoary cavern, wide-furrounding lowers.
Still thro' the gap the ftruggling river toils,

And ftill, below, the horrid caldron boils

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