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

wild;

And Disappointment, in these lonely bounds, Find balm to footh her bitter rankling wounds: Here heart-ftruck Grief might heav'nward ftretch her fcan,

And injur'd Worth forget and pardon man,

Written

Written with a PENCIL, ftanding by the FALL

of FYERS near LOCH-NESS.

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 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 fheet de

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Dim-feen, through rifing mifts and ceafelefs

fhow'rs,

The hoary cavern, wide-furrounding, low'rs. Still thro' the gap the ftruggling river toils, And still, below, the horrid caldron boils

On

On the BIRTH of a POSTHUMOUS CHILD, born in peculiar Circumftances of FAMILYDISTRESS,

SWEET flow'ret, pledge o' meïkle love,
And ward o'mony a prayer,

What heart o' ftane wad thou na move,
Sae helpless, fweet, and fair.

November hirples o'er the lea,
Chill, on thy lovely form;

And gane, alas! the fhelt'ring tree,
Should fhield thee frae the storm.

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May He who gives the rain to pour,
And wings the blast to blaw,

Protect thee frae the driving fhow'r,
The bitter froft and fnaw,

May HE, the friend of woe and want,
Who heals life's various ftounds,
Protect and guard the mother plant,
And heal her cruel wounds.

But late fhe flourish'd, rooted fast,
Fair on the fummer morn :
Now, feebly bends fhe, in the blast,
Unfhelter'd and forlorn. F

Bleft be thy bloom, thou lovely gem,
Unfcath'd by ruffian hand!

And from thee many a parent ftem

Arife to deck our land.

THE

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