| |
(Died July 21, 1796) REAR high thy bleak majestic hills, | |
| Thy sheltered valleys proudly spread, | |
| And, Scotia, pour thy thousand rills, | |
| And wave thy heaths with blossoms red; | |
| But, ah! what poet now shall tread | 5 |
| Thy airy heights, thy woodland reign, | |
| Since he, the sweetest bard is dead, | |
| That ever breathed the soothing strain? | |
| |
| As green thy towering pines may grow, | |
| As clear thy streams may speed along, | 10 |
| As bright thy summer suns may glow, | |
| As gayly charm thy feathery throng; | |
| But now unheeded is the song, | |
| And dull and lifeless all around | |
| For his wild harp lies all unstrung, | 15 |
| And cold the hand that waked its sound. | |
| |
| What though thy vigorous offspring rise | |
| In arts, in arms, thy sons excel; | |
| Though beauty in thy daughters eyes, | |
| And health in every feature dwell; | 20 |
| Yet who shall now their praises tell | |
| In strains impassioned, found, and free, | |
| Since he no more the song shall swell | |
| To love, and liberty, and thee! | |
| |
| With step-dame eye and frown severe | 25 |
| His hapless youth why didst thou view? | |
| For all thy joys to him were dear, | |
| And all his vows to thee were due; | |
| Nor greater bliss his bosom knew, | |
| In opening youths delightful prime, | 30 |
| Than when thy favoring ear he drew | |
| To listen to his chanted rhyme. | |
| |
| Thy lonely wastes and frowning skies | |
| To him were all with rapture fraught; | |
| He heard with joy the tempest rise | 35 |
| That waked him to sublimer thought; | |
| And oft thy winding dells he sought, | |
| Where wild flowers poured their rathe perfume, | |
| And with sincere devotion brought | |
| To thee the summers earliest bloom. | 40 |
| |
| But ah! no fond maternal smile | |
| His unprotected youth enjoyed | |
| His limbs inured to early toil, | |
| His days with early hardships tried! | |
| And more to mark the gloomy void, | 45 |
| And bid him feel his misery, | |
| Before his infant eyes would glide | |
| Day-dreams of immortality. | |
| |
| Yet, not by cold neglect depressed, | |
| With sinewy arm he turned the soil, | 50 |
| Sunk with the evening sun to rest, | |
| And met at morn his earliest smile. | |
| Waked by his rustic pipe meanwhile, | |
| The powers of fancy came along, | |
| And soothed his lengthened hours of toil | 55 |
| With native wit and sprightly song. | |
| |
| Ah! days of bliss too swiftly fled, | |
| When vigorous health from labor springs, | |
| And bland contentment soothes the bed, | |
| And sleep his ready opiate brings; | 60 |
| And hovering round on airy wings | |
| Float the light forms of young desire, | |
| That of unutterable things | |
| The soft and shadowy hope inspire. | |
| |
| Now spells of mightier power prepare | 65 |
| Bid brighter phantoms round him dance; | |
| Let flattery spread her viewless snare, | |
| And fame attract his vagrant glance; | |
| Let sprightly pleasure too advance, | |
| Unveiled her eyes, unclasped her zone | 70 |
| Till, lost in loves delirious trance, | |
| He scorns the joys his youth has known. | |
| |
| Let friendship pour her brightest blaze, | |
| Expanding all the bloom of soul; | |
| And mirth concentre all her rays, | 75 |
| And point them from the sparkling bowl; | |
| And let the careless moments roll | |
| In social pleasures unconfined, | |
| And confidence that spurns control, | |
| Unlock the inmost springs of mind: | 80 |
| |
| And lead his steps those bowers among, | |
| Where elegance with splendor vies, | |
| Or science bids her favored throng | |
| To more refined sensations rise; | |
| Beyond the peasants humbler joys, | 85 |
| And freed from each laborious strife, | |
| There let him learn the bliss to prize | |
| That waits the sons of polished life. | |
| |
| Then, whilst his throbbing veins beat high | |
| With every impulse of delight, | 90 |
| Dash from his lips the cup of joy, | |
| And shroud the scene in shades of night; | |
| And let despair with wizard light | |
| Disclose the yawning gulf below, | |
| And pour incessant on his sight | 95 |
| Her spectred ills and shapes of woe; | |
| |
| And show beneath a cheerless shed, | |
| With sorrowing heart and streaming eyes, | |
| In silent grief where droops her head | |
| The partner of his early joys; | 100 |
| And let his infants tender cries | |
| His fond parental succour claim, | |
| And bid him hear in agonies | |
| A husbands and a fathers name. | |
| |
| Tis donethe powerful charm succeeds; | 105 |
| His high reluctant spirit bends; | |
| In bitterness of soul he bleeds, | |
| Nor longer with his fate contends. | |
| An idiot laugh the welkin rends | |
| As genius thus degraded lies; | 110 |
| Till pitying Heaven the veil extends | |
| That shrouds the poets ardent eyes. | |
| |
| Rear high thy bleak majestic hills, | |
| Thy sheltered valleys proudly spread, | |
| And, Scotia, pour thy thousand rills, | 115 |
| And wave thy heaths with blossoms red; | |
| But never more shall poet tread | |
| Thy airy heights, thy woodland reign | |
| Since he, the sweetest bard, is dead | |
| That ever breathed the soothing strain. | 120 |
| |