For Thou, upon a hundred streams, At parent Nature's grateful call, A gracious welcome shall be thine, Dreams treasured up from early days, And what, for this frail world, were all Yea, what were mighty Nature's self? Unhelped by the poetic voice That hourly speaks within us? Nor deem that localised Romance Ah, no! the visions of the past Bear witness, Ye, whose thoughts that day By the last Minstrel,' (not the last!) Flow on for ever, Yarrow Stream! Fulfil thy pensive duty, Well pleased that future Bards should chant Dear to the common sunshine, And dearer still, as now I feel, To memory's shadowy moonshine! II. ON THE DEPARTURE OF SIR WALTER SCOTT FROM ABBOTSFORD, A TROUBLE, not of clouds, or weeping rain, VOL. IV. H For kindred Power departing from their sight; Lift up your hearts, ye Mourners! for the might Than sceptered king or laurelled conqueror knows, III. A PLACE OF BURIAL IN THE SOUTH OF SCOTLAND. [SIMILAR places for burial are not unfrequent in Scotland. The one that suggested this Sonnet lies on the banks of a small stream called the Wauchope that flows into the Esk near Langholme. Mickle, who, as it appears from his poem on Sir Martin, was not without genuine poetic feelings, was born and passed his boyhood, in this neighbourhood, under his father who was a minister of the Scotch Kirk. The Esk, both above and below Langholme, flows through a beautiful country, and the two streams of the Wauchope and the Ewes, which join it near that place, are such as a pastoral poet would delight in.] PART fenced by man, part by a rugged steep Proud tomb is none; but rudely-sculptured knights, IV. ON THE SIGHT OF A MANSE IN THE SOUTH OF SCOTLAND. [THE manses in Scotland and the gardens and grounds about them have seldom that attractive appearance which is common about our English parsonages, even when the clergyman's income falls below the average of the Scotch minister's. This is not merely owing to the one country being poor in comparison with the other, but arises rather out of the equality of their benefices, so that no one has enough to spare for decorations that might serve as an example for others; whereas, with us, the taste of the richer incumbent extends its influence more or less to the poorest. After all, in these observations the surface only of the matter is touched. I once heard a conversation in which the Roman Catholic Religion was decried on account of its abuses. "You cannot deny, however," said a lady of the party, repeating an expression used by Charles 2nd, "that it is the religion of a gentleman." It may be left to the Scotch themselves to determine how far this observation applies to their Kirk, while it cannot be denied, if it is wanting in that characteristic quality, the aspect of common life, so far as concerns its beauty, must suffer. Sincere christian piety may be thought not to stand in need of refinement or studied ornament; but assuredly it is ever ready to adopt them, when they fall within its notice, as means allow; and this observation applies not only to manners, but to everything a christian (truly so in spirit) cultivates and gathers round him, however humble his social condition.] SAY, ye far-travelled clouds, far-seeing hills- Scattered all Britain over, through deep glen, On airy upland, and by forest rills, And o'er wide plains cheered by the lark that trills His sky-born warblings-does aught meet your ken More fit to animate the Poet's pen, Aught that more surely by its aspect fills Pure minds with sinless envy, than the Abode V. COMPOSED IN ROSLIN CHAPEL, DURING A STORM. [WE were detained by incessant rain and storm at the small inn near Roslin Chapel, and I passed a great part of the day pacing to and fro in this beautiful structure, which, though not used for public service, is not allowed to go to ruin. Here, this Sonnet was composed. If it has at all done justice to the feeling which the place and the storm raging without inspired, I was as a prisoner. A painter delineating the interior of the chapel and its minute features under such circumstances would have, no doubt, found his time agreeably shortened. But the movements of the mind must be more free while dealing with words than with lines and colours; such at least was then and has been on many other occasions my belief, and, as it is allotted to few to follow both arts with success, I am grateful to my own calling for this and a thousand other recommendations which are denied to that of the painter.] THE wind is now thy organist;—a clank |