All hail! my own inspired bard! In me thy native muse regard! Nor longer mourn thy fate is hard, Thus poorly low! I come to give thee such reward As we bestow. 'Know, the great genius of this land Harmoniously, As arts or arms they understand, Their labours ply. "They Scotia's race among them share; Some fire the soldier on to dare; Some rouse the patriot up to bare Corruption's heart: Some teach the bard, a darling care, 'Mong swelling floods of reeking gore, They, ardent, kindling spirits pour; Or, 'mid the venal senate's roar, They, sightless, stand, To mend the honest patriot lore, And grace the land. And when the bard, or hoary sage, Charm or instruct the future age, They bind the wild poetic rage In energy, Or point the inconclusive page Full on the eye. Hence Fullarton, the brave and young; Hence Dempster's zeal-inspired tongue; Hence sweet harmonious Beattie sung His "Minstrel lays;" Or tore, with noble ardour stung, The sceptic's bays. To lower orders are assign'd The humbler ranks of human kind, The Artisan; All chuse, as various they're inclin'd, 'When yellow waves the heavy grain, The threat'ning storm some strongly rein; Some teach to meliorate the plain With tillage-skill; And some instruct the shepherd-train, Blythe o'er the hill. 'Some hint the lover's harmless wile; Some grace the maiden's artless smile; Some sooth the lab'rer's weary toil, For humble gains, And make his cottage-scenes beguile His cares and pains. 'Some, bounded to a district-space, Explore at large man's infant race, To mark the embryotic trace Of rustic Bard; And careful note each op'ning grace, A guide and guard. 'Of these am I-Coila my name; And this district as mine I claim, Where once the Campbells, chiefs of fame, Held ruling pow'r : I mark'd thy embryo tuneful flame, Thy natal hour. With future hope, I oft would gaze Thy rudely caroll'd, chiming phrase, Fir'd at the simple, artless lays Of other times. I saw thee seek the sounding shore, Drove thro' the sky, I saw grim nature's visage hoar, Struck thy young eye. 'Or when the deep green-mantl'd earth Warm-cherish'd ev'ry flow'ret's birth, And joy and music pouring forth In ev'ry grove, I saw thee eye the gen'ral mirth With boundless love. 'When ripen'd fields and azure skies, Call'd forth the reaper's rustling noise, I saw thee leave their ev'ning joys, And lonely stalk, To vent thy bosom's swelling rise VOL. I. In pensive walk. I • When youthful love, warm-blushing, strong, I taught thee how to pour in song, To soothe thy flame. 'I saw thy pulse's maddening play, Wild send thee pleasure's devious way, Misled by fancy's meteor ray, By passion driven; But yet the light that led astray Was light from heaven. I taught thy manners-painting strains, The loves, the ways of simple swains, Till now, o'er all my wide domains Thy fame extends; And some, the pride of Coila's plains, 'Thou canst not learn, nor can I show, To paint with Thomson's landscape-glow; Or wake the bosom-melting throe, With Shenstone's art: Or pour, with Gray, the moving flow Warm on the heart. 'Yet all beneath th' unrivall'd rose, The lowly daisy sweetly blows; Tho' large the forest's monarch throws Yet green His army shade, the juicy hawthorn grows, ‹ Then never murmur nor repine; Strive in thy humble sphere to shine; And trust me, not Potosi's mine, Nor kings' regard, Can give a bliss o'ermatching thine, A rustic Bard. 'To give my counsels all in one, Thy tuneful flame still careful fan; Preserve the Dignity of Man, With soul erect; And trust, the Universal Plan Will all protect. And wear thou this'-she solemn said, And bound the Holly round my head: The polish'd leaves, and berries red, Did rustling play; And, like a passing thought, she fled In light away. ADDRESS TO THE UNCO GUID; My son, these maxims make a rule, The Rigid Righteous is a fool, The Rigid Wise anither: The cleanest corn that e'er was dight Solomon.-Eccles. vii. 16. O YE wha are sae guid yoursel, Sae pious and sae holy, Ye've nought to do but mark and tell Your neebour's faults and folly! |