Obrazy na stronie
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'Nor yet, O Bruce*! the morn that shone

Bright, bright! whan (Edward's host ow'rthrown)

High, on yon proud hill's Standard Stone,†

Thy banners flew;

While Freedom, loud, in raptur'd tone

Her clarion blew!

-Enchanting morn! whase magic reign

Brak forging thraldom's galling chain;

Led Ceres, wi' her laughing train

And gowden store

Round Bannockburn's ensanguin'd plain,

* King Robert the Bruce.

And Carron's shore.

+ The stone where Bruce's standard was fixed during the memorable battle of Bannockburn. It may still be seen on an eminence near the village of St. Ninians, with a hole in the centre where the end of the standard was fixed, and thence named the bore stone.'

Round Carun's stream,' o' classic name,

Whar Fingal fought, and ay ow'rcame; *

Whar Ossian wak'd, wi' kindling flame,

His heav'n-taught lays,

And sang his Oscar's deathless fame

At Dunipáce! *

-Names, gratefu' to the patriot's ear!

Which Scotia's sons delight to hear !

Names, that the brave will lang revere

Wi' valour's sigh!

-Dear to the Muse!-but doubly dear

To Liberty!'

* Vide the war of Caros, and the beautiful poem Comala.

Thus, (blind to prudence' warning light)

Aft sigh'd and sang the pensive wight!

Reckless, alas! o' fortune's blight,

Or warldly blame

He'd muse, and dream, till dark midnight,

Then daunder hame!

Ye flowering plains and winding stream!

Ye stately towers! whar morn's first beam

Mild glittering glints wi' gowden gleam!

Yours was the crime:

Ye first entic'd his youth to dream

In thriftless rhime!

Ye first unlock'd the secret door

That led to nature's varied store;

And taught him early to adore

Her tempting smile,

Whether on India's pictur'd shore

Or Britain's ifle.

Ye classic fields, whar valour bled!

Whar patriots strave, but never fled!

Ye plains, wi' smiling plenty clad,

A lang adieu!

A dark'ning cloud wi' ills ow'rspread

Obscures the view!

A warning voice, sad owre the main

Cries, Haste ye!-haste!-break aff the strain:STREVLINA'S towers and peerless plain

Ye'll ne'er review!

Dear haunts o' youth, and luve's saft pain,

A last adieu!

VOL. II.

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