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STROPHE II.

Yet tho' dark Ruin's raven sway

Hath swept thy hour of pomp away,
Tho' Superstition's bleak and cowering wing

Thy shadowy throne with gloomy pride o'erspread,
We yet may ask, if chance our footsteps bring,
To mourn thy triumphs lost, thy glories fíed,

Where Tully's lips thy senates mov'd,

Where Horace tun'd the lyre he lov'd, Or Mantua's Swan, in Cæsar's happier day, Swell’d with unruffled plume its pastral lay,

Where Julius fell, and chaste Lucrétia pour’d Her agonizing sout on Honour's beamy sword!

ANTISTROPHÉ II.

But lo! from Asia's hills afar

Descends a long continued train,
Is it the bickering march of war,

That throngs with troops the tented plain?
No thurders rive the withering air,
Nor helm, nor panoply is there,
With pensive pace, a pilgrim band,

To fair Medina's distant strand,
And Mecca's hallow'd fanes devout they poor,
From Carmel's cliff, from Tartan Caspia's shore

Tyre's golden gates, Sabaea's balmy bloom,
And kiss with holy joy the dark Usurper's tombo

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EPODE II.

Lift high the swelling strain,
And loftier notes prepare,
For see, where Albion quits the westering tide:

So leaves the lord of beasts his lair,
So shakes the terrours of his golden mane :
Queen of the Isles ! fair Honours bloomy bride
I know thee now-~I know each craggy seat,
Faith's firmest throne, and Freedom's best retreat;
I know the heroes of thy patriot line,
I know each raptur'd bard, each sage divine :

Whether thy Shakespeare's thunders roll,
Or Otway charms the subject soul,
Or Newton kens the milky way,

Or Milton drinks the gales of day.
What tho' around thy native mound

The frowns of Danger widely spread,
Tho’ billows scowl, and tempests howl,

And hover o'er thy fearless head :
Still may'st thou urge thine empire o'er the main,
Nor hurl thy vollied fires, nor lift the lance in vain!

SOBRINO.

EPIGRAM.
FROM THE FRENCH OF GOMBAULD.
By showering wealth and titles splendid

On thee! the basest of the bad!
It seems that Fortune sure intended
To drive insulted Virtue mad,

R. A. D.

HYMN,

TO THE 104th PSALM TUNE,

BY T. PARK, ESQ.

My soul praise the Lord, speak good of his name, His mercies record, his bounties proclaim : To God, their Creator, let all creatures raise The song of thanksgiving, the chorus of praise !

Though hid from man's sight, God reigns on his throne,
Yet here by his works their great Author is known:
The world shines a unirror its Maker to show,
And Heaven views its image reflected below.
Those agents of pow'r, fire, water, earth, sky,
Attest the ‘dread might of God the most High :
Who rides on the whirlwind, when clouds veil his form,
Who.smiles in the sun-bcam, or frowns in the storm,

By knowledge supreme, by wisdom divine,
God governs this earth with gracious design:
O'er beast, bird, and insect, his providence reigns,
Whose will first created, whose love still sustains.

And man, his last work, with reason endued,
Who falling through sin, by grace was renew'd :-
To God, his Creator, let man ever raise
The song of thanksgiving, the chorus of praise !

VERSES,

ADDRESSED TO A LADY OF QUALITY

WITH A DRAWING OF LUNCARTY IN PERTHSIIRE, THE SCENE

OF THE WARLIKE ATCHIEVEMENTS OY HER ANCESTORS.

BY R. CARLYLE.

These classic margins of the silver Tay
First saw the prowess of the godlike Hay*;
Here with his gallant stripling sons he stood,
While flow'd around him streams of Danish blood.

• The battle of Luncarty was fought in the tenth century be. tween the Scots and Danes, soon after the latter invaded Scotland, in the reign of Kenneth the third King of Scotland. Tlie Scots waited for the Danes after their landing, on the plains of Luncarty four miles above Perth, when a bloody battle ensued, at which the Scots were giving way on all sides. Hay, a peasant, accompanied by two of his sons, saw what was likely to be the issue of the day, and, armed with only such weapons as his occupation furnished him with, by the force of his valeur, courage, and heroic behaviour, he was not only instrumental in stemming the tide of the battle, but his prowess so animated the retiring troops of the Scots, that they rallied, repulsed, and effectually obliged the Danes to retire in great disorder to their slips, which lay at anchor at the mouth of the Tay. As soon as Kenneth heard of the gallant atchievement of the heroic peasant, be created

HYMN,

TO THE 104th PSALM TUNE,

BY T. PARK, ESQ.

My soul praise the Lord, speak good of his name, His mercies record, his bounties proclaim: To God, their Creator, let all creatures raise The song of thanksgiving, the chorus of praise !

Though hid from man's sight, God reigns on his throne,
Yet here by his works their great Author is known:
The world shines a unirror its Maker to show,
And Heaven views its image reflected below.
Those agents of pow'r, fire, water, earth, sky,
Attest the dread might of God the most High :
Who rides on the whirlwind, when clouds veil his form,
Who.smiles in the sun-beam, or frowns in the storm,

By knowledge supreme, by wisdom divine,
God governs this earth with gracious design:
O'er beast, bird, and insect, his providence reigns,
Whose will first created, whose love still sustains.

And man, his last work, with reason endued,
Who falling through sin, by grace was renew'd :-
To God, his Creator, let man ever raise
The song of thanksgiving, the chorus of praise !

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