How faucy Phoebus' scorching beams, And drink my crystal tide. The lightly-jumping, glowrin trouts, If, in their random, wanton fpouts, If, hapless chance! they linger lang, In gasping death to wallow. Laft day I grat wi' fpite and teen, As Poet B**** came by, That, to a Bard, I should be seen But, But had I in my glory been, He, kneeling, wad ador'd me. Here, foaming down the skelvy rocks, There, high my boiling torrent fmokes, As Nature gave them me, I am, altho' I fay't mysel, Would then my noble mafter please He'll fhade my banks wi' tow'ring trees, Delighted doubly then, my Lord, And liften mony a grateful bird Return you tuneful thanks. The fober laverock, warbl ng wild, Shall to the skies afpire; The gowdfpink, Mufic's gayeft child, Shall fweetly join the choir: The blackbird ftrong, the lintwhite clear, This too, a covert fhall enfure, To fhield them from the ftorm; Here shall the shepherd make his feat, And And here, by fweet endearing ftealth, Defpifing worlds with all their wealth The flow'rs fhall vie in all their charms And birks extend their fragrant arms Here haply too, at vernal dawn, Let Let lofty firs, and afhes cool, My lowly banks o'erspread, And view, deep-bending in the pool, Let fragrant birks in woodbines dreft And, for the little fongfter's neft, So may, Old Scotia's darling hope, Spring, like their father's, up to prop So may thro' Albion's fartheft ken, The grace be" Athole's honeft men, "And Athole's bonnie laffes !" On |