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A creature of another kind.
. Some coarser substance, unrefined, Placed for her lordly use thus far, thus vile, below.
Where, where is Love's fond, tender throe,
The powers you proudly own?
To bless himself alone ?
To love-pretending snares,
Shunning soft Pity's rising sway,
Perhaps, this hour, in Misery's squalid nest,
She strains your infant to her joyless-breast, And with a mother's fears shrinks at the rocking
O ye! who, sunk in beds of down,
Whom friends and fortune quite disown!
Stretch'd on his straw he lays himself to sleep, While through the ragged roof and chinky wall, Chill o'er his slumbers piles the drifty heap !
Think on the dungeon's grim confine,
A fiction's sons are brothers in distress;
I heard nae mair, for Chanticleer
Shook off the pouthery suaw,
A cottage-rousing craw.
Through all his works abroad,
The most resembles God.
The lazy mist hangs from the brow of the hill,
pain'd! This life's not worth haring, with all it can give, For something beyond it poor man sure must live. DESPONDENCY.
OPPRESS'd with grief, oppress'd with care,
I sit me down and sigh :
To wretches such as I !
What sickening scenes appear !
Must be my bitter doom;
But with the closing tomb !
Happy, ye sons of busy life,
No other view regard !
They bring their own reward :
Unfitted with an aim,
Forget each grief and pain;
Find every prospect vain.
How blest the solitary's lot,
Within his humble cell,
Beside his crystal well!
By unfrequented stream,
His thoughts to heaven on high,
He views the solemn sky.
Than I, no lonely hermit placed
Less fit to play the part;
With self-respecting art :
Which I too keenly taste,
Or human love or hate,
At perfidy ingrate!
0! enviable, early days, When dancing thoughtless pleasure's maze,
To care, to guilt unknown !
How ill-exchanged for riper times,
Of others, or my own!
Like linnets in the bush,
That active man engage !
Of dim declining age !
To thee I turn with swimming eyes.
Beneath that hallow'd turf where Wallace lies' Hear it not, Wallace, in thy bed of death!
Ye babbling winds, in silence sweep;
Disturb not ye the hero's sleep, Nor give the coward secret breath.
Is this the power in freedom's war
That wont to bid the battle rage ?
Crushing the despot's proudest bearing;
Braved usurpation's boldest daring! One quench'd in darkness like the sinking star, And one the palsied arm of tottering, powerless age.