Never, never reptile thief

Riot on thy virgin leaf!

Nor even Sol too fiercely view

Thy bofom blufhing ftill with dew!

Mayft thou long, fweet crimfon gem,
Richly deck thy native ftem;
Till fome ev'ning, fober, calm,
Dropping dews, and breathing balm,
While all around the woodland rings,
And ev'ry bird thy requiem fings;
Thou, amid the dirgeful found,
Shed thy dying honours round,

And refign to Parent Earth

The loveliest form the e'er gave birth.

VOL. II.

P

SONG.

SÒN G.

ANNA, thy charms my bosom fire,

And waste my foul with care;

But ah! how bootlefs to admire,
When fated to despair !

Yet in thy prefence, lovely Fair,
To hope may be forgiv'n;

For fure 'twere impious to despair

So much in fight of Heav'n.

Of

On reading, in a NEWSPAPER, the DEATH of JM'L, 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 Ifabella's arms.

Sweetly deckt with pearly dew

The morning rofe may blow;

But cold fucceffive noontide blasts
May lay its beauties low.

Fair on Ifabella's morn

The fun propitious fmil'd;

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

Fate oft tears the bofom chords
That Nature fineft ftrung:
So Ifabella's heart was form'd,
And fo that heart was wrung.

Dread Omnipotence, alone,

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

Virtue's bloffoms there fhall blow,
And fear no withering blaft;

There Ifabella's spotless worth

Shall happy be at last

THE

My Lord, I know, your noble ear

Woe ne'er affails in vain ; Embolden'd thus, I beg you'll hear

Your humble flave complain,

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