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Written with a PENCIL over the CHIMNEYPIECE, in the Parlour of the Inn at KENMORE, TAYMOUTH.

ADMIRING Nature in her wildest grace,
These northern scenes with weary feet I trace;
O'er many a winding dale and painful steep,
Th’abodes of covey'd grouse and timid sheep,
My favage journey, curious, I pursue,
Till fam'd Breadalbane opens to my view.-
The meeting cliffs each deep-funk glen di-

vides, The woods, wild-scatter'd, clothe their ample

fides;

Th'

Th' outstretching lake, imbosomed 'mong the

hills,

The eye

with wonder and amazement fills ; The Tay meand'ring sweet in infant pride, The palace rising on his verdant fide; The lawns wood-fring'd in Nature's native

taste;

The hillocks dropt in Nature's careless hafte ; The arches ftriding o'er the new-born stream ; The village glittering in the noontide beam

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Poetic ardors in my bosom swell,
Lone wand'ring by the hermit's moffy cell:
The sweeping theatre of hanging woods;
Th’inceffant roar of headlong tumbling

floods

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Here Poesy might wake her heav'n-taught

lyre, And look through Nature with creative fire;

Here,

Here, to the wrongs of Fate half reconcil'd, Misfortune's lighten'd steps might wander

wild ; And Disappointment, in these lonely bounds, Find balm to sooth her bitter rankling wounds: Here heart-struck Grief might heav'nward stretch her scan,

. And injur'd Worth forget and pardon man.

*

Written

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Written with a Pencil, ftanding by the FALL

of FYERS near Loch-Ness.

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AMONG the heathy hills and ragged woods
The roaring Fyers pours his moffy floods;
Till full he dashes on the rocky mounds,
Where, thro' a shapeless breach, his stream

resounds.
As high in air the bursting torrents flow,
As deep recoiling surges foam below,
Prone down the rock the whitening sheet de-

scends,
And viewless Echo's ear, astonished, rends.

Vol. II.

Dim-feen,

Dim-feen, through rifing mists and ceaseless

show'rs,

The hoary cayern, wide-surrounding, low'rs. Still thro’ the gap the struggling river toils, And Itill, below, the horrid caldron boils

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