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obliged the Danes to retire in great disorder to their ships, which
While flow'd around him streams of Danish blood.
The battle of Luncarty was fought in the tenth eentury be. in the reign of Kenneth the third King of Scotland. The Scots waited for the Danes after their landing, on the plains of Lunwhich the Scots were giving way on all sides. Hay, a peasant, 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, be was not only instrumental in stemming
VERSES, ADDRESSED TO A LADY OF QUALITY WITH A DRAWING OF LUNCARTY IN PERTHSIIRE, THE SCENE OF THE WARLIKE ATCHIEVEMENTS OF HER ANCESTORS.
BY R. CARLYLE.
Tarse classic margins of the silver Tay
troops of the Scuts, that they callied, repulsed, and effectually of the gallant archievennent of the heroic peasant, he created
Hail land beloved! thy plains produced a man,
himn Earl of Frroll, and gave him as much land as a Falcon flez over before he alighted. The flight of the bird happened to, be over the rich plain of Gowrie, commonly called the garden ut** Scotland.-- From an origin so truly noble are descended the fami. lies of the Earls Erroll and Kinnoul and the Marquis of TweeHale; and if true benevolence, exalted dignity, and personal beauty, any way distinguish the human character, the descend. ants of so noble à progenitor prove themselves not only ennobled by the King of Scotland but by the King of Kings.
Of a Medical Conversation between two Apothecaries, on a
wet Day in October, while their Patient was capiring of a Dropsy.
Pulse doubly felt, and stay protracted
Well, Sir,-I think--but take this seat,
" Why, Sir, (I'm getting somewhat dryer;
th' abdomen well,
They parted, to meet there no more
By disease or a cord would from life be ejected ; " My Lord," quoth the wag," that depends whether I
By your mistress or principles first an infected.”
G. II. D.
BACCHANALIAN ODE. .
TO M. MENARD.
FROM THE FRENCH OF RACAN.
Now that Winter, with gloomy and rigorous sway, Hurls his tempests, his sleet, and his snow all the day,
And keeps us besieg'd by the fire, Let us drown in the glass all our cares as we ought, Nor give taxes, and parties, and statesmen a thought
Nor who fights and who conquers enquire. I know, dear Menard, all the works that you write, Fruits immortal of many a slumberless, night,
Will live till the world meets its doom: But what will it boot you, dear friend, that your name Shall surely be read in the temple of Fame,
feed the worms of the tombs Quit, quit then a toil which in vain you bestow! Of our nectar delicious in torrents shall flow
The ruby-red sparkling stores. More ruddy and bright will our nectar be found, Than that which young Ganymede, passing around,
In the cups of the deities pours. "Tis wine that so swiftly speeds onward the years, That each scarce a day to our fancy appears :
"Tis wine makes us youthful once more: