When heaven born Liberty on Gallic skies Open'd the dawn of Freedom's golden day, "Twas thine to sing the "day-star's" glorious rise: The Patriot's warmth inspir'd the Poet's lay. Though now, beneath stern despotism's sway, That star be sunk in deepest shades of night; Some future hour shall feel its cheering ray, Some future Bard shall hail the joyful sight, And many a "vine-clad hill" shall hear him with delight. No more shall CoWPER, on the banks of Ouse, No more, by sweeping Nith, shall Scotia's Muse Yet on fair Mersey's side the tuneful choir Amid their RosCOE's groves shall prompt the strain: Oh may they never from those shades retire, But every grace and every virtue reign, And shed their brightest beams on Allerton's domain. THE CALEDONIAN ADIEU. FAREWELL, Caledonia! adieu to thy bowers! Gay scenes of my childhood, once lovely and fair! When Hope sweetly smiling beguiled the light hours, As I thoughtlessly rov'd on the banks of the Ayr. Farewell, Caledonia! the darling of nature! Thy bold craggy mountains confronting the sky, In sweet retrospection shall rise to the eye, And Fancy my visions romantic shall aid, Though the star of my destiny o'er the wide ocean, On the banks of the Ganges, or Plata's proud stream, Though I wander unconscious their beauties among; My own dear native Ayr, still my favorite theme, Shall partake of my praise and enliven my song. Sweet stream! on whose banks, in my infancy roaming, I hail'd the first dreams of my fanciful mind; When the music of morning, the silence of gloamin, My soul to the witchery of Nature resign'd. O blythe were the moments, and jocund the hours, But I ne'er shall revisit those hallowed bowers, Where I felt the warm glow of an innocent heart. Yet still, Caledonia! my fervent devotion, The prayer of my heart shall for ever be thine! Though between us there roll the wild waves of the ocean, They but heighten the flood of affection like mine. THE SMILE OF HER I LOVE. I could endure with steadfast mind Relentless Fortune's frown severe; If gentle Love were left behind, My drooping anxious heart to cheer. For ne'er should Fortune's stern decree With doubts my tranquil bosom move, If pitying heaven would leave to me The soothing smile of Her I love. |