But though enwrapt in noise and smoke, They ne'er can heal his peace when broke; For solitude on rural plain; Even there his wishes all convene To bear him to his noise again. Thus tortur'd, rack'd, and sore opprest, He constant hunts, but never finds his rest. The toiling rustic's chiefest dower; ODE TO DISAPPOINTMENT. THOU joyless fiend, life's constant foe, Her gayest haunts for ever nigh; Stern mistress of the secret sigh, That swells the murm'ring soul. Why haunt'st thou me through deserts drear? Thy visage wan did e'er I woo, Or court thy sullen shade. Even now enchanted scenes abound, Now horrors, hell, and furies reign, The passions, at thy urgent call, And now despair with lurid eye Doth meagre poverty descry, The lover flies the haunts of day, Sad sisters of the sighing grove Yet hope undaunted wears thy chain, And smiles amidst the growing pain, Nor fears thy sad dismay; Unaw'd by power her fancy flies From earth's dim orb to purer skies, Realms of endless day. DIRGE. THE waving yew or cypress wreath Since Strephon's virtue's sunk to rest, The just, the good, more honours share In what the conscious breast bestows, Than vice adorn'd with sculptor's care, In all the venal pomp of woes. A sad-eyed mourner at his tomb, THE AUTHOR'S LIFE. My life is like the flowing stream That glides where summer's beauties teem, That on its watery bosom sail, Through all the haunts that fancy loves. May I, when drooping days decline, And 'gainst those genial streams combine, The winter's sad decay forsake, And centre in my parent lake. SONG. SINCE brightest beauty soon must fade, Ye virgins, seize the fleeting hour, ON THE AUTHOR'S INTENTION OF GOING TO SEA. FORTUNE and Bob, e'er since his birth, Could never yet agree, She fairly kick'd him from the earth To try his fate at sea. ON SEEING A COLLECTION OF PICTURES, PAINTED BY MR. [ALEXANDER] RUNCIMAN. [Runciman's Hall of Ossian' at Penicuik House is referred to in the following Verses. His 'paintings' are well known: and many of them have been engraved. There is a portrait of him in Stark's 'Biographia Scotica,' 1805. He died suddenly in 1785.] O COULD my Muse, like thee, with magic skill, Like thee make each idea stand confest, Like thee could make the awe-struck world admire An Ossian's fancy, and a Fingal's fire, Boldly aspiring at exalted lays, The Poet then should sing the Painter's praise. ON NIGHT. Now murky shades surround the pole; Darkness lords without control: To the notes of buzzing owl, Lions roar and tigers howl, Fright'ning from their azure shrine EPIGRAM, WRITTEN EXTEMPORE, AT THE DESIRE OF A GENTLEMAN WHO WAS RATHER ILL-FAVOURED, BUT WHO HAD A FAMILY OF BEAUTIFUL CHILDREN. SCOTT and his children emblems are Of real good and evil; His children are like cherubims, But Scott is like the devil. |