There watching high the least alarms, Thy rough rude fortress gleams afar; Like some bold veteran, gray in arms, And mark'd with many a seamy scar : The pond'rous wall and massy bar, Grim-rising o'er the rugged rock, Have oft withstood assailing war, And oft repell'd th' invader's shock. With awe-struck thought, and pitying tears, Their hapless race wild-wand'ring roam; Wild beats my heart to trace your steps, Edina! Scotia's darling seat, All hail thy palaces and tow'rs, 40 30 бо LAMENT FOR JAMES, EARL OF GLENCAIRN. THE wind blew hollow frae the hills; By fits the sun's departing beam Look'd on the fading yellow woods That waved o'er Lugar's winding stream. Beneath a craigy steep, a bard, Laden with years and meikle pain, In loud lament bewail'd his lord, Whom death had all untimely taen. He lean'd him to an ancient aik, Whose trunk was mould'ring down with years; 10 His locks were bleached white wi' time, His hoary cheek was wet wi' tears; And as he touch'd his trembling harp, And as he tun'd his doleful sang, The winds, lamenting thro' their caves, To echo bore the notes alang. 'Ye scatter'd birds that faintly sing, A few short months, and glad and gay, But nocht in all revolving time 'I am a bending agèd tree, That long has stood the wind and rain; But now has come a cruel blast, And my last hold of earth is gane: Nae leaf o' mine shall greet the spring, And others plant them in my room. 20 30 'I've seen so many changefu' years, On earth I am a stranger grown; I bear alane my lade o' care, And last (the sum of a' my griefs!) His country's pride, his country's stay: For a' the life of life is dead, And hope has left my agèd ken, On forward wing for ever fled. 'Awake thy last sad voice, my harp! The voice of woe and wild despair; Awake, resound thy latest lay, Then sleep in silence evermair! And thou, my last, best, only, friend, That fillest an untimely tomb, Accept this tribute from the bard Thou brought from fortune's mirkest gloom. 40 50 Thick mists obscure involv'd me round Though oft I turn'd the wistful eye, No ray of fame was to be found: Thou found'st me, like the morning sun That melts the fogs in limpid air; The friendless bard and rustic song Became alike thy fostering care. 'O why has worth so short a date While villains ripen grey with time? Must thou, the noble, gen'rous, great. Fall in bold manhood's hardy prime? 60 Why did I live to see that day, A day to me so full of woe? "The bridegroom may forget the bride 70 That smiles sae sweetly on her knee; But I'll remember thee, Glencairn, And a' that thou hast done for me!' 80 LAMENT OF MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS, ON THE APPROACH OF SPRING. Now Nature hangs her mantle green And spreads her sheets o' daisies white Now Phoebus cheers the crystal streams, But nought can glad the weary wight Now laverocks wake the merry morn, The merle, in his noontide bow'r, In love and freedom they rejoice, ΙΟ Now blooms the lily by the bank, The primrose down the brae ; I was the Queen o' bonnie France, Yet here I lie in foreign bands, But as for thee, thou false woman, Grim vengeance yet shall whet a sword The weeping blood in woman's breast Was never known to thee; Nor th' balm that draps on wounds of woe My son my son! may kinder stars And may those pleasures gild thy reign, God keep thee frae thy mother's faes, Or turn their hearts to thee; And where thou meet'st thy mother's friend, Oh! soon to me may summer-suns Nae mair to me the autumn winds 50 40 30 20 |