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The ways of men are distant brought,
His thoughts to heav'n on high,
Less fit to play the part;
With self-respecting art:
Which I too keenly taste,
Or human love or hate,
At perfidy ingrate!
Oh! enviable, early days,
To care, to guilt unknown!
Of others, or my own!
Like linnets in the bush,
That active man engage!
The dim declining age!
I. ALL hail! inexorable lord! At whose destruction-breathing word,
The mightiest empires fall!
A sullen welcome, all!
I see each aimed dart;
The storm no more I dread;
Oh! hear a wretch's pray'r! No more I shrink appall d, afraid, I court, I beg thy friendly aid,
To close this scene of care!
Resign life's joyless day;
To strain my lifeless face;
Within thy cold embrace!
MARY, QUEEN OF SCOTTS,
ON THE APPROACH OF SPRING.
Now Nature hangs her mantle green
On every blooming tree, And spreads her sheets o' daisies white
Out o'er the grassy lea:
And glads the azure skies;
That fast in durance lies.
Now lav'rocks wake the merry morn,
Aloft on dewy wing;
Makes woodland echoes ring;
Sings drowsy day to rest :
Wi' care nor thrall opprest.
Now blooms the lily by the bank,
The primrose down the brae;
And milk-white is the slae :
The meanest hind in fair Scotland
May rove the sweets amang; But I, the Queen of a' Scotland,
Maun lie in prison strang.
I was the Queen o' bonie France;
Where happy I hae been;
As blithe lay down at e’en:
And monie a traitor there;
And never-ending care.
But as for thee, thou false woman,
My sister and my fae,
That thro' thy soul shall gae:
Was never known to thee;
Frae woman's pitying e'e.
My son! my son! may kinder stars
Upon thy fortune shine;
That ne'er wad blink on mine!
Or turn their hearts to thee: And where thou meet’st thy mother's friend;
Remember him for me!
O! soon, to me, may summer-suns
Nae mair light up the morn! Nae mair, to me, the autumn winds
Wave o'er the yellow corn!
And in the narrow house o' death
Let winter round me rave;
Bloom on my peaceful grave!
OCCASIONED BY THE UNFORTUNATE ISSUE OF A
Alas ! how oft does Goodness wound itself,
While care-untroubled mortals sleep!
And wanders here to wail and weep!
Beneath thy wan unwarming beam ;
The faintly-marked distant hill :
Reflected in the gurgling rill :
Thou busy pow'r, Remembrance, cease!
For ever bar returning peace!