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Home is sometimes employed to denote our na
tive country, but I have, in general, used it in its
more restricted meaning.
The division of a long poem into parts is fre
quently convenient; but in the following performance it was necessary, because each part relates
to a separate period of time.
Beloved Clydesdale ! Thy green woods are sweet,
When, wreathed with May-flowers, Spring and Sum
mer meet :
Sweet are thy swelling hills in light array'd,
Thy glens, the haunts of solitude and shade,
Thy streamlets gently murmuring, and the bloom (a)
Showered on their winding banks ;—but sweeter HOME.
There are, the woodland melodies who scorn
Charmed with the drum’s hoarse note, th' obstreperous The trumpet's blast, th' artillery pealing far,
And all the dreadful dissonance of war :
False fame let them pursue, by land and flood,
Disdaining glories un-achieved by blood,
Plunge in the trench, the steel-crowned rampart scale,
But place me, Heaven, in Lothian's peaceful vale.
Once I beheld,-how dear to memory's eye
Nature's wild scenes improved by novelty !
The vernal Tempest Arran's summits hide,
Move, sternly-lowering, o'er the troubled Clyde,
Deepen the gloom of Cowal's hills of heath,
And wave his terrors over green Roseneath,
From Leven's laughing vale each charm exile,
And pour his wrath on many a trembling Isle.